One of her father’s servants found her near midday sculpting sacred spirals made of snow next to a fountain garlanded in roses the color of blood sugared in snow. Jahna’s hands were frozen, and her breath steamed in front of her every time she exhaled, but she ignored the cold, happy to be outside and away from the stifling conditions in the overcrowded palace.
“Lady Uhlfrida, your father is looking for you. He’s asked that you attend him.”
Jahna sighed and followed the servant back to their rooms where her father held court with whomever chose to visit at the moment. Her mood lightened when she spotted Dame Stalt seated across from Marius in the antechamber he used as a receiving room. The dame skipped the usual round of polite greetings and went straight to the subject of their conversation.
“Your father feels it best you remain at home at Hollowfell for now, Jahna.” Jahna’s heart plunged through the floor at the news, a ready plea on her lips in the hopes of convincing her father to change his mind.
Her stricken thoughts must have reflected in her expression because the dame shook her head. “You mistake us, girl. When you’re eighteen, you may join the Archives and apprentice to become a king’s chronicler then.”
The ringing in her ears warned Jahna she was in danger from fainting from the tide of relief that washed over her. She turned to her silent father who nodded.
“Court life has its challenges, Jahna. You’ve had a taste of it. Give yourself three more years. You’ll better know how to cope with the vagaries of palace society. That is if you’re still interested in the position of chronicler by then.” He didn’t mention any of the usual platitudes such as the chance she might want to marry instead.
“I will be, Father,” she assured him in her most adamant tone. She turned to the dame. “My thanks, Dame Stalt. I will work hard at not disappointing you.”
Dame Stalt rose. Marius followed suit and both he and Jahna bowed to her. “I bid you both farewell then. You’ll hear from me periodically.” She swept out of Marius’s receiving chamber, followed by a small entourage of women composed of both servants and lesser dames.
Marius eyed his daughter for a long moment. When he spoke, it wasn’t to question her choice in pursuing such a profession—one populated by women from every level of the social strata. “Accompany her to the bailey, Jahna, so she may know I’ve raised you properly.”
Jahna hurried to do his bidding and caught up with the dame just before she reached the doors that opened up to the royal palace’s outer courtyard and bailey. Across the grounds, the Archives stood between two temples, its portico facing the palace’s northern fa?ade. Dame Stalt waited until Jahna drew abreast of her before speaking.”
“I don’t need a nursemaid to see me home, Jahna, especially one young enough to be my granddaughter.” Her sharp regard was softened a little by the smile that played across her mouth. “I will, however, lay a task on you.”
“Anything, madam,” Jahna said.
The dame frowned. “Be careful you use that answer sparingly in the future, Jahna.” She pulled her heavy cloak more closely around her thin frame. “The Archives store all manner of things concerning Belawat’s history. You have a rare opportunity before you, one any chronicler at the Archives would envy. An Ilinfan swordsman will reside in your father’s house for four years. Talk to him. Learn of Ilinfan and its ways, the philosophy and practices of its teachers. Record it and send to me when you’re finished.”
Excitement sang through Jahna’s veins. The dame laid a monumental task at her feet, but one Jahna wholeheartedly embraced. Ilinfan was ancient, built and abandoned by the Gullperi, inhabited by humans who created a famous school and mastered the art of sword form. All those things made it a jewel to research, the chance of learning more about Ilinfan directly from one of its swordsmen, a gift beyond price.
She bowed. “I will, madam. It will be an honor.”
She waited until the dame and her retinue disappeared in a veil of falling snow before literally skipping back to her father’s suite, eager to start her new assignment right away, eager to hear Radimar Velus recount the mysteries of Ilinfan in that magical voice.
3
The Maiden despairing
“Here again, mushroom? Don’t you have something better to do than bother us?” Sodrin bent an annoyed frown on Jahna as she set up her supplies of parchment and ink on a small table tucked into a corner of her mother’s solar.
Her sunny smile made him frown even harder. “I can’t think of anything better than watching Sir Radimar knock you on your arse several times in an hour.” And fitting revenge for him calling her a fungus.
Three weeks had passed since their return to Hollowfell from the Beladine capital of Timsiora, and the Ilinfan swordmaster hadn’t wasted a moment in putting his new student through his paces. The empty solar, once a place of dust, cobwebs and sad memories for Lord Uhlfrida was transformed into a training room, with a concentric pattern of diminishing circles painted on the floor. Hooks driven at various spot into the walls and ceiling provided anchor points to which lengths of rope were strung, creating an intricate net.
“For exercises to increase agility and flexibility,” the swordmaster explained to the perplexed Uhlfrida family when they saw the contraption.
A servant had set up the workspace where Jahna put down her supplies to record—a small table and a chair that hugged a corner and caught the best light from a high window. It offered her a good view of the entire room while still allowing her to stay out of the way.
Radimar had readily agreed to Jahna’s request to observe the lessons and record how Ilinfan teachers passed on their knowledge to their students. Sodrin had been less than enthusiastic at the idea.
“How can I fight if she’s lurking over there distracting me with all that quill scratching?”
Radimar paused while measuring the floor for his painted circles and gave Sodrin a withering look. “If something as insignificant as a quill stops you from being able to fight, then I need to pack now and return to Ilinfan, as there is nothing I can teach you which will overcome that level of laziness.”
Sodrin flushed pink at the rebuke, but said no more. He avoided Radimar’s eyes in favor of glaring at Jahna who shrugged and returned a triumphant smirk.
Radimar hadn’t made an appearance yet this morning, and the siblings took advantage of that by bickering. Sodrin practiced a few leisurely swings with the wooden waster Radimar insisted he use. “Big talk from you. It isn’t like he hasn’t put you on your arse a few times.”
That was true. Radimar’s willingness to allow her in for the lessons as an observer came with a price. Sometimes she had to participate and those days usually saw her sporting more than a few bruises for the effort.
She shrugged. “But I don’t have anything to prove. Nor do I care if you see me fall. You have too much pride, brother.”
“And you not enough,” he volleyed back. “Radimar is wasting his time teaching you things you’ll never use.”