Splinter & Ash, page 10
A fist struck out and caught Splinter on the chin. Her head snapped back, and stars danced across her vision. A knee slammed into her side, leaving her breathless. Fingernails dug deep into the soft tissue of her wrist.
She tried to give as much as she got. She pulled at hair. She punched wildly. She didn’t even—really—care about who was on the other side anymore. Not a single squire had helped her. No one had stood up for her.
She was trying to lash out again when strong fingers clamped around her arm.
She struggled, but the fray around her was letting up. Burly guards in leather armor waded in, professionally avoiding the wild kicks and punches, and pulled one squire after another from the tangle.
“You will cease this disgraceful behavior, or the guards have my permission to throw you in the horses’ troughs to cool you down,” Lord Brenet said, regarding the chaos. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. He was quietly furious, and the courtyard was eerily quiet.
“This is the most shameful display I have seen in all my years here,” the master of squires continued.
Some of the squires tried to straighten. Others scuffed their feet. Two had bloody noses. Tym, Splinter saw to her horror, held his obviously broken arm cradled to his chest, and he had tears in his eyes.
Only Lucen was remarkably unscathed, and that made Splinter feel worse. He’d deserved her anger.
“I will have to think about how to respond to this flagrant disregard for your position, for your duty, and for yourselves. I expect I will have a long conversation with each of you. The squires responsible will be punished.” Lord Brenet stared at the squires in turn.
Splinter couldn’t meet his eye.
“For now I simply want to know who threw the first punch.” Lord Brenet kept his voice light, like it was a reasonable request. Deep in her heart, Splinter knew that it had been any of the boys, none of them would have tattled.
Those rules didn’t apply to her.
She glanced up through her lashes, and found every single squire staring at her.
Lucen schooled his expression to one of regret. “Splinter, my lord. It was Splinter who attacked me. The others came to my aid.”
The two guards who’d flanked Lord Brenet stood watch outside his office door, and Splinter had never before felt so much like a prisoner. She’d waited in Lord Brenet’s office while the master of squires ensured that the squires who needed aid were seen by the physicians. The others were told to gather on the indoor practice courts. All but Splinter.
She hadn’t dared to move. She was all too aware of the mud dripping onto the rug beneath her feet.
When Lord Brenet returned to his office, Splinter folded her hands behind her back and forced herself to meet his gaze.
“Squire Splinter.” Lord Brenet’s voice was frosty and his expression thunderous. “When you reported to me, I told you that I would not let you tarnish the reputation of the squires in this palace or dishonor the royal family. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
Splinter did. That it wasn’t fair. If she was a blemish on the good name of the palace squires, then so was the crown prince. So were all the squires who’d fought her, bullied her, stood back and done nothing.
She could still hear their voices in the back of her head. Stain. Stain. Stain.
She didn’t even know what was in the message from Ash. Splinter needed to get to her.
“Nothing, my lord,” she managed.
Lord Brenet frowned. “Was there a reason why you initiated the fight? I heard there were inappropriate comments during practice. If any of the squires acted dishonorably, I will hear of it.”
He offered her an opening. It would be so easy to take it.
She wouldn’t be the one to snitch.
They outnumbered her. It didn’t matter what she wanted, or what Ash wanted. With Lucen leading the other squires, she didn’t stand a chance. But she wouldn’t become someone she wasn’t. Splinter fought her own battles. She didn’t tell on people. Not even on Lucen.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” she said. “I made a mistake. I got angry. I . . .” She swallowed. “I’m trying to be a good squire.”
Lord Brenet ran a hand through his hair. “I appreciate that Princess Adelisa needs a friend at court, but this is not the way. I will speak to the queen about your future here. We will find another means of companionship, but I cannot in good conscience let you keep your position as a squire if this is how you abuse it. Until we decide what to do with you, you shall confine yourself to your quarters. You’re dismissed.”
Splinter fought hard to keep her shoulders straight and her head held high, when all she wanted to do was curl up and cry.
As she closed the door behind her, she could just make out Lord Brenet’s soft voice. “It’s a shame. Elnor believed you had the makings of a fine and uniquely talented squire.”
Splinter ran.
Chapter Thirteen
Ash
Ash waited. Her note should have gotten Splinter out of her lessons. But her squire hadn’t shown up yet.
Restless, Ash slipped out of her comfortable dress and changed into a wide, flowing tunic and a long woolen skirt. She picked a long leather belt that circled around her hips twice, and she tightened the straps of her braces. Tension made her hands ache. After some hesitation, she clasped a small purse with some coins and a spare star amulet onto her belt, and she pulled her hair back in a ponytail.
She reread the letter from Mist that lay on her desk.
Change of plans. We have to postpone tomorrow’s ride because Mama is being called away for business. Please join us for dinner tonight instead? A carriage will be sent to pick you up.
Ash tapped out an anxious rhythm against the desk. Queen Aveline and Lord Lambelin had given Ash their blessing to go. Uncle Lam had assured Ash that no one would blame a princess for a missing letter. Besides, so far, the letter appeared to be relatively innocent correspondence between scholars discussing history.
Worry still churned her stomach.
Lord Maronne had looked scattered and harmless. She had a hard time imagining he was the type of person who’d betray the queen, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t.
Ash wanted Splinter by her side at dinner tonight, and she didn’t have a clue why it was taking the squire so long. The teachers had to obey a royal command too. Even from her.
Ash grabbed her cane and left her room.
The royal wing was empty at this time of day. The queen held court, and Lucen was busy with his studies. Two guards who stood watch at the entrance to the royal apartments saluted when Ash passed.
She never knew whether to acknowledge them. That hadn’t been part of Aunt Jonet’s lessons. So far, she had erred on the side of politeness. “I’m going to find Splinter,” she said. “I’ll be back before the carriage driver sends for me.”
The guard on the left didn’t move a muscle. He was a young man with short cropped hair and pimples on his nose, who seemed permanently on the edge of nervousness. He always blushed fiery red when a member of the royal family was near. The guard on the right—a middle-aged man with long black hair, dark brown skin, and scars along his chin—suppressed a smile. “Of course, your highness.”
The royal wing was situated on the fourth floor of the palace, high above other rooms and residential areas. When a younger Ash had complained about the many staircases, Queen Aveline had explained that their rooms were the highest because that made them easily defensible. And, the queen reminded her daughter, they provided the royal family with a good view of the city and the lands around it, and of all the people they served. “All we need to do is look out the windows to be reminded.”
Ash held on to that thought. She was doing her duty. She still hated the stairs.
She climbed down to the third floor, where several of the palace nobles—including Lord Lambelin—had their rooms, and then to the second, where the scribes and the royal physicians worked.
She paused. She didn’t like the physicians’ wing. When she was still small and the physicians were learning how to care for a princess whose joints easily snapped apart and then grew back crooked, she’d come to associate this place with pain, and with being the royal physicians’ object of study and curiosity. When she’d returned from Aunt Jonet’s estate, Brother Nivanil had spent a full afternoon prodding and testing every bone, as if she was a warhorse being measured for armor, before pronouncing the silver braces she wore “sufficient.”
But the physicians’ wing was the quickest route to the squires’ practice courts. And there was no sign of Splinter—or of the page she’d sent to deliver her message. If for some strange reason he couldn’t locate Splinter, he was supposed to report back to her.
She gathered herself and walked into the winding hallway with its many offices, sticking to the shadows of the statues that stood on either side. Perhaps if she could keep her head down—
“Princess Adelisa?” A slender woman in physician’s garb appeared at her elbow. She carried a leather satchel with fresh herbs from the royal star temple’s gardens, and mud clung to the hem of her dress. “Do you need assistance? Should I find Brother Nivanil?”
Ash startled. “No, thank you.” She lifted her chin and channeled every bit of princess despite the erratic pounding of her heart as she met the woman’s curious brown eyes. “I’m on my way to the practice courts.”
“Oh.” The woman seemed almost disappointed at the lack of an emergency, but then she brightened. “Oh. For the squires?”
Ash nodded. “I’m looking for Splinter.”
“Of course, your new friend. Marvelous.” The woman patted Ash’s arm. She began to set out glass jars with pastes and dried herbs, and Ash took the opportunity and dashed.
She passed a secretary desk filled with colorful bottles and jars with animal skeletons in greenish liquid. The desk concealed a passage that wound down to the first floor and provided easy access to the physicians in times of need. A guard lingered nearby, whispering to an apprentice girl. He kept his helmet on despite being inside. Dark brown curls escaped around his ears. He saluted Ash smartly. “Princess.”
The apprentice, with a wimple over her hair, dipped into a curtsy.
Ash nodded a greeting and continued on down the hallway toward an impossibly narrow door, which opened up to a dark corridor that led to the battlements overlooking the practice courts. It was one of the few passages that, instead of being swallowed by redesigns, had appeared as a result of them, at a point where old and new buildings intersected.
Ash looked back toward the main staircase to make sure Splinter wasn’t on her way up before she ducked into the passage. She used her cane as support, and to make sure she didn’t bump into anything. She knew from experience that the stone walls were sharp and they cut.
Something creaked or squeaked behind her, and she picked up the pace.
Quickly, through the darkness. Carefully, across the uneven stones.
She pushed the outer door open, crisp winter air streaming in and sunlight momentarily blinding her. Ash stepped out onto the battlements that ran along the whole perimeter of the castle.
Guards patrolled these battlements, but it was an endless expanse of walkways. No guards were within sight at the moment. Ash was alone.
And the practice courts below were empty.
Ash grimaced. She followed the wall walk to get a better look, but Splinter and the other squires were nowhere to be seen. Only two stable hands, who were repairing a practice dummy.
Then Brother Nivanil walked out onto the courts, supporting a squire with a broken arm, and Ash hissed. Training accidents happened. Lucen had broken his wrist once, falling off his horse. What if something had happened to Splinter?
The door behind her opened, and the curly-haired guard came out, hand in hand with the apprentice. They were whispering and laughing, and stopped abruptly when they saw her.
The guard straightened. “Princess.”
This time the girl didn’t curtsy. She stared intently at Ash, with slate-gray eyes that were uncomfortably familiar.
Ash blushed and tried to push around them. “Carry on. I was just on my way again.” She needed to get down to the squires’ practice courts.
But the girl grabbed her arm. “It’s dangerous to be out here alone.”
Ash froze. “What are you doing? Let me go!”
Curls had escaped from the girl’s wimple, and Ash startled in recognition. This was the girl who’d watched Ash outside the theater. Who had no reason to be here, in the palace. The girl shook her head. “I thought this was impossible.”
“Hush, Merewen.” The guard’s voice came from right next to Ash’s ear.
Ash drew breath to scream, but before she could, a rough hand wrapped around her mouth. “Quiet now, your highness. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”
Ash struggled. She slammed her cane back, as hard as she could. The guard grunted, but instead of letting go, he pulled her arm to the side of her body, immobilizing Ash. His fingers dug painfully deep.
She kicked out. She wrestled. She screamed again, to no avail.
“So fierce. Nanna would love it.” The girl sounded happy.
Ash frantically tried to see if any real guards were near, but the girl pulled Ash’s arms back and bound them firmly together. She used a piece of cloth and fashioned a gag, weaving it beneath the strong hands of the guard, who kept a tight grip on Ash.
“Don’t worry, princess,” he whispered gently when the girl stepped back. “We’ll take good care of you.”
The guard let her go, and for a moment—a heartbeat—Ash thought someone might have spotted them. The guards. Perhaps one of the physicians had smelled trouble.
But then a heavy blunt object slammed against the back of her head.
And darkness took over.
Chapter Fourteen
Splinter
The connecting door between their rooms was closed. Splinter raised her hand to knock—and paused.
Her hands shook. She still had mud stains all over her arms, though she’d toweled most of the dirt off. Her knuckles were starting to bruise from the punches—the other squires’ and her own.
Splinter looked like a mess, and she felt worse. Nothing she did lessened the lump in her throat or the ache in her chest.
Ash’s words to Hazel, Mist, and Fenna echoed inside Splinter’s head. Painful and sharp, like a headache. No squire works harder than Splinter.
Ash had stared down court for Splinter. She’d fought for Splinter’s dreams as fiercely as her own.
And Splinter had failed her.
She’d let her anger get the better of her. She’d proven to everyone that she wasn’t worthy of being a squire.
Her uncle’s words came back to her with a vengeance too. “You’ll come to see sense.”
Uncle Elias used to tell Splinter it was unseemly to cry. Once she discovered she would get in trouble for it, she learned to cry quietly. And then not at all.
But Splinter wished she could, because maybe it would relieve the pain.
She rested her head against the door.
She could explain herself. Maybe Ash would understand. She disliked bullies too. Besides, Lord Brenet had suggested they would find another place for Splinter by Ash’s side, and maybe that would be enough.
She pushed the door. “Ash?”
Silence.
“Ash? Something happened . . .” Splinter’s voice trembled as she pushed the door open wider. “I didn’t get your message. . . . Lucen . . .”
She stuck her head in. The room was empty. Dresses were strewn across the bed and the floor. A pale blue gown lay propped up against one of the bedposts, while a daffodil-yellow skirt hung over Ash’s desk chair. A silver jewelry box, the lid open, balanced precariously on a small stack of books, and one of Ash’s braces rested against a set of drawers.
Ash was nowhere to be seen.
Splinter slipped into the room. “Ash?” She peeked around the dressing screen and knocked on the door to the washing room. Splinter didn’t want to face Ash and desperately wanted to see her, both at the same time.
An open note on the desk caught her eye. Picking it up, Splinter recognized Mist’s scrawly handwriting, and her heart sank.
Please join us for dinner tonight?
This was why Ash had sent her a message. And instead of being by her side, Splinter had left her to face the Maronnes on her own, and who knew how dangerous that could be?
Splinter sank down on Ash’s bed and hid her face in her hands. Stars, she was an utter disappointment.
But a small voice in the back of her mind, one that sounded remarkably like Anders, told her she’d only be a disappointment if she gave up now. Although it was late afternoon, perhaps the carriage hadn’t left yet. And even if it had, perhaps she could follow it and keep an eye on Ash from a distance. Or perhaps she could go through all the information Lord Lambelin had gathered and find clues that everyone else had missed. Splinter’s mother had once told her that when she worked on translating documents for the palace, she always searched for the patterns between the lines. Perhaps Splinter could do the same. Perhaps she could still make herself useful—
A soft scratching sound came from near Ash’s door, and Splinter raised her head from her hands. “Ash?” Please, she wanted to add. Please still be here.
A piece of paper had been pushed under the door. Folded in two, the corners crumpled, and spidery ink stained the page. Splinter crouched down to collect it.
With some hesitation, she opened it, and a lock of brown hair fell out. Splinter snatched it up, recognizing the color. The world began to twist and spin around her as she read.
Her heart hammered. Her hands grew cold. She dropped the note and yanked open the door. The wide hallway outside the princess’s room was deserted. The doors that gave access to the royal wing were well guarded.
