Chapter Thirteen
Jonis was with a group of boys, sitting in a circle on the floor. Their reflection gleamed in the polished silver mirrors flanking the room. He raised an eyebrow. “Gentlemen, what do you do when a lady enters?”
The boys all stood. It was awkward and touching. “Pages, this is our new dame.” Jonis turned toward Hanne. “These are our youngest boys; it’s their first year with us.”
“How long have you been here?” she asked.
“The new class arrives in July every year,” their paladin said, clearly proud of the group. The affection was clearly mutual. “All right, we will end early today.”
A clamor went up. “But, sir.”
“You promised.”
“It’s Bjorn’s turn.” They were all speaking at once.
Jonis held up a hand. “Very well, a knight always keeps his promises.” He dropped onto his back on the mat. “Do your worst, Bjorn.” A lanky boy dropped to his knees beside his teacher and pinned him to the mat. Jonis rolled his eyes. “Is that the best you can do, boy?” He jumped up, slinging the boy over his shoulder and tickled his ribs. He carried him around the perimeter of the room, all the while saying, “Boys, why is Bjorn laughing like a crazy person?” His tickling grew more intense, and Bjorn grew more frenzied, laughing and arching up from Jonis’ shoulder. “Really,” the paladin continued. “I don’t understand it. I always thought he was a sensible boy. Not prone to hysterical laughter for no reason.” The other boys circled the pair, howling with mirth. “Asgar, do you know what’s happened to Bjorn? Mattias, do you? It makes no sense. Why the uncontrollable laughter?” Jonis dropped to a knee with the nine-year-old boy still over his shoulder. Hanne noted that as he swung the boy down, his hand cradled the back of the youngster’s head. No wonder the boys adored him. “All right then, we conclude today’s lesson on grappling. Bjorn, if that crazy laughter returns, you might need to go to the infirmary.” Jonis easily stood and offered Hanne his arm. “This is where we spar.”
“Sparring is what? Play fighting?”
She could have sworn she saw the dragon derisively poke his snout out of the neckline of Jonis’ tunic and roll its eyes.
“Something like that,” he said, flipping the dragon firmly on the eye ridge. The dragon shrugged his shoulders and disappeared under Jonis’ tunic.
“You sent for me?” Hanne asked.
“I thought I would show you around.”
She nodded her approval as he pointed to a wide staircase that only went up. “This is the way to the battlements.”
“Obviously we keep some arms up here.” He gestured to the bows, arrows, and swords that hung on the walls.
“Obviously,” she said, having no idea that it was any such thing. One wall held wooden swords. “How do you keep the boys away from the real weapons?”
“I tell them not to touch them,” he said with quiet firmness. He led her up the stairs. The staircases, which she was fast deciding would henceforth be the bane of her existence, were steep but wide, so they could walk side by side. A long stone hallway with a series of doors led to the roof. “We won’t stay out here long,” he promised. The cold made her eyes water. She was grateful for the cloak. She gazed to the south. As far as she could see, the wall twisted and careened. She noticed a man on horseback riding along on the battlements.
“Where is he going?”
“That’s the blacksmith,” Jonis said as if that explained anything, which it did not.
“Oh,” she responded.
“We can’t have his workshop in the main keep. What if there was a fire?”
“But isn’t the keep mostly stone?”
“It’s all stone, but where would we put the boys if a fire raged through it?”
“Very good point.” She was beginning to shiver. She wasn’t ready to go inside yet, though. The view was too compelling. The wall divided two very different landscapes. To the south was pine forest laden with deep snow. To the north, there were no trees. Drifts of snow had spindly grass poking skyward. The keep backed into the end of the world. The iceberg towered over the fortress. At its base lapped a sea full of smaller floating glaciers. An elaborate wooden arm jutted out over the ocean, a series of platforms and pulleys stepped down into the water.
Jonis pointed. “That’s so we can upload things from ships. Not this time of year, of course.” Another ‘of course’ she did not understand.
A speck in the sky was resolutely moving toward them and soon Hanne could make out a bird.
The sentry called out, “Falcon!” The warbird circled and then dropped onto the paladin’s arm. Jonis unwrapped a leather band from the bird’s leg and withdrew a small scroll.
He handed the bird to the sentry. “Get him fed and rested, I’ll get my response written.” He led his shivering dame back into the keep, shutting the doors behind them. Rubbing her arms possessively, he said, “I let you stay out too long. I will take you somewhere warm.”
“Do you need to read that communication?”
“No, it’s non-urgent. I can tell by the color of leather used to attach it.”
She had so much to learn about her new world.
They descended another wide staircase. He opened a door and led her into a very large bedroom. “This is where the youngest boys sleep.”
“How many are there?”
“Every year there are sixteen new novices. We do our best to make sure they all succeed in their years with us. Once they move on, though, most won’t make it all the way to knight.”
“What happens to them?”
“They go home with a fine education and serve some other way.”
“Is it true that families sell their sons to the Snow Force?” She hesitated to ask the question, since she would well imagine it was not one that a knight of the Snow Force would appreciate.
He gave her a rueful smile. “No, that’s not true. No family should suffer hardship because their son is training here. If the father is a farmer or a fisherman, the family is compensated for the labor they lose when their boys are called to serve here.”
“What did your father do?”
“He was a knight. I was born to this.”
The new dame tried to hide her wince; she had most definitely not been born to this.
Hanne looked around the spacious dorm with a questioning gaze. It was warm, but there was no fireplace.
“Water from the hot springs runs through the floor,” Jonis answered. The room had a long narrow sink and Hanne turned the knob as very hot water gushed out.
Jonis reached out a cautionary hand. He stoppered the sink and poured some cool water from a jug into the basin. “Careful, don’t burn yourself.” She slipped a finger into the warm water and wondered if she would ever get over the miracle of boiling hot water coming straight out of the frozen ground. Cabinet beds lined two walls. Curious, she opened one. It contained bunk beds. Both of the beds were neatly made. In the corner of the room, a large curtained bed was set on an angle.
“Who sleeps there?” Hanne gestured.
“Sir Armund. He is the novice master. He was a knight when I was a boy. He still teaches the history of the Snow Force and military strategy.”
“So he is very old indeed then,” she teased.
“He is getting frail, like an old woman.” Jonis chuckled. “He always wears a cloak, even when it’s summer.” He turned toward her and brushed his knuckles gently across her cheek. “You, however, are a young woman.”
Despite her desire to control herself, she felt a shiver go up her spine. She sent up a fervent prayer that they would continue to become friends. The rest of her life would be so much nicer with a husband who didn’t loathe her. In the center of the room, atop a thick carpet, was a table with benches on either side. At one end sat a large comfortable chair. “Do the boys sometimes eat in here?” she asked. A basket labeled ‘mending’ sat by the door. Hanne took out a sheet and draped it over her arm. She would mend it later while she sat in front of the fire.
“No, they study, and write letters home.”
“Did you sleep in here?”
“When I was a novice? Yes. I got this”—he pointed to a small scar on his temple—“when I was playing hide and seek in here.”
“What did you bang it on?”
He gestured toward Sir Armund’s curtained bed. “There is a valve underneath that controls the heating pipes. I’m lucky I didn’t knock it open. The steam could have burned my face off. The water from the sink is very hot, but under the bed, it’s closer to boiling.”
A thought occurred to her. “Were you happy here?”
“I was. It’s a grand boyhood.”
She caught his arm. “I will do everything I can to make sure that the boys who are novices grow up to say the same thing.” He dropped a kiss on her lips.
She felt her body hungrily respond.
“Hold that thought until we finish the tour,” he whispered. “I’ll show you where the older boys sleep. Follow me.”
They heard an unholy scream. “Help! Help! It’s Bjorn. It’s my fault.”
Jonis sprang toward the stairs and disappeared from view. Hanne followed, carried along by a torrent of people. The throng pushed up the stairs en masse and burst through the doors onto the battlements. There was a collective gasp of horror. Bjorn lay crumpled upon one of the platforms that lay directly beneath the large pulley. Jonis was already climbing down the rope. He reached the boy remarkably fast. One of the other men appeared with a board and some ropes.
“We will need to secure him,” someone said. Hanne used the scissors hanging on her overdress to cut nicks in the sheet and tore it into long strips.
“Well done, my lady,” said the knight that she handed them to. Jonis secured Bjorn, who suddenly looked even younger than he was, and comrades began pulling the boy up.
In a trice, they had the makeshift gurney on the ground, and Hanne insisted the crowds make way. The boy groaned, which made Hanne very thankful. She urged him to open his eyes, while Jonis ran his hands over the boy’s limbs. Bjorn gave a decided wince when his paladin’s hands neared his leg. Miraculously, that seemed to be the only serious injury the boy had received.
“I can set the bone,” she whispered.
“Let’s get you both inside first. No point in risking frostbite,” Jonis answered. As the motley procession began to move toward the stairs, Mattias burst through the crowd.
“Will he live?” he asked mournfully.
“He will, no thanks to you. Am I to understand that you are responsible for this?” There was danger in the paladin’s eyes. “What do you have to say for yourself?” The boy stood staring at his boots as Hanne tried to make sure her patient was not unnecessarily bumped. The entire keep inched toward the infirmary. “I will deal with you shortly, young man,” Jonis said grimly.
Hanne could think of nothing but the large frightening strap. “No! No, I forbid it!” she cried. Everyone started with such suddenness, it was lucky the injured boy wasn’t dropped. Wilma’s mouth was in a decided ‘O.’ Only Armund didn’t seem surprised.
Her husband’s fury was controlled but not concealed. “We will get Bjorn to the infirmary.” His voice filled her with dread. It was obvious that everyone was appalled that she would speak to the paladin in such a way. Jonis had a tightening of the jaw that was plainly visible. She wondered if he would break any of her bones. Fury radiated from him. She could feel the dragon’s glare even through Jonis’ tunic. She considered trying to apologize, but doing so in public did not seem the best way to avoid embarrassing her wrathful husband. She forced herself not to think of what was to come and busied herself caring for her patient.