Second Guard (5 page)

Telendor paused then, and Tali felt herself stand taller under his sweeping gaze, her body stiffening with resolve. She had never been prouder to be a Tequendian than this very moment.

“Those of you who pledge to protect this realm will spend the next year training with the best of my centurios,” continued Telendor, gesturing to the four warriors behind him, who
bowed in unison. “They will train you in weaponry, horsemanship, hand combat, and endurance. I expect complete obedience to their methods. Your life and honor depend on it. First, I introduce
your instructor of weaponry, Centurio Jessa.”

The slightest of the centurios stepped forward, and Tali was shocked to see a female face with short gray hair appear as Jessa removed her helmet. She must be older than Father, Tali thought, as
several pledges murmured their own surprise. Jessa’s fierce blue eyes blazed, as if daring them to even
think
her too old for service. In one fluid movement she unsheathed a large
dagger from her belt and flung it across the hall. The weapon somersaulted through the air in a perfect arc, landing with a
thunk
in the mouth of a growling puma, whose stuffed head had
been mounted on a beam over the double doors. The crowd of pledges gasped. Centurio Jessa nodded curtly and stepped back without a word.

Next, Centurio Abelino spoke a few brief moments about proper horsemanship, then Centurio Saraky gave a clipped speech about hand combat. Though Tali tried to focus on their words, her eyes kept
drifting back to the puma, wondering if she would ever learn to throw a dagger that fast. The commander’s authoritative voice brought Tali’s attention back to the stage as he introduced
the last centurio.

“Your instructor of endurance will be my own son, Centurio Jaden,” he said, turning his stern gaze upon the man who stepped up beside him. Jaden removed his helmet, and Tali could
see that he was by far the youngest person on the platform. As father and son stood shoulder to shoulder, the resemblance between them was remarkable: the square jaw, the deep-set eyes, the jagged
sweep of black hair that fell upon broad shoulders. The only clues giving away the commander’s older age were the grooves that lined his brow and a few gray streaks striping his mane. But
both men wore the face of power, the face of men who believed themselves invincible.

Tali shivered. What must it be like to look upon an opponent so full of confidence, so sure of his own greatness? She could not imagine battling such a man. Maybe Brindl had made the right
decision. The odds were against her and the other girls, that much was clear. They would be competing against male pledges who were mostly bigger and stronger than they, like Zarif and Chey. Even
if Chey couldn’t wield a sword, he would have a year to learn, a year to surpass her. For a brief moment, she understood the temptation to concede now before she made a fool of herself.

Jaden stepped in front of his father to address the crowd. His eyes scanned the hundreds of pledges, but his gaze finally rested upon Tali, as if reading her thoughts.
Hide your fear,
she told herself.
You are Tali, daughter of Alondro Sanchez and Cora Kalloryn. You will be a warrior, not a servant.
Her heart beat furiously in her chest, but she dared not look away from
him. Even as he spoke to all, his eyes remained locked on hers. “Your new life begins today, young pledges. Do not disappoint your Queen.”

Tali’s mouth went dry as she struggled to keep her face neutral.

Telendor stepped forward again and pulled the Blade of Tequende from his sheath. “Leave now, those who would be servants.”

Tali swallowed a gasp as almost a third of the crowd filed out to the edges of the room to join the gray-clad servants who stood in a stance of humiliation, arms crossed, heads bowed. Zarif had
been right: those who left were mostly girls and Earth Guilders. Quietly, they exited the room to take the Pledge of Service elsewhere. Probably the kitchens, thought Tali with a twinge of guilt as
she caught sight of Brindl among them.

“Those who remain will bend their knees and repeat after me,” said Telendor.

Tali dropped to the cold stone floor along with the remaining pledges.

“Tonight I pledge my life to the service of my Queen.”

The voices around Tali echoed in unison, sounding both young and old.

“I will uphold the Oath of Guilds but foreswear my own for the greater good.”

Telendor signaled them to rise. “Stand now and serve your realm with honor, pledges of Alcazar. From this day forward your allegiance belongs not to your guilds, but to me. May the Gods
protect you.”

As Tali stood, she instinctively raised her fist in response to the blessing—a raised fist, symbolizing the sun, the sign of the guild she’d just sworn to forsake.
Stupid,
she said to herself, though she wasn’t the only one to make the mistake. All around her, Moon Guilders touched fingers to forehead; Earth Guilders, hand to heart. Apparently, shedding the
habits of their guilds would require more than bended knee.

T
he servants in gray returned just as quickly as they had left, and now bustled throughout the Great Hall, arranging the long wooden tables and
benches that had been stacked along the walls. Commander Telendor and his four centurios were already seated at a table on the platform, joined by various officers and guards of the Alcazar.

“Shall we sit together for supper?” Tali asked Chey and Zarif.

Chey gave Tali a quizzical look, then shook his head. “No, thank you. May Machué bless your meal.” He nodded politely to her and Zarif before turning toward the table behind
him and seating himself among a group of fellow Earth Guilders.

Tali looked at Zarif, who shrugged and gestured to a table next to them, where pledges from their own guilds sat in a mix of white and colorful costumes. The discussion at the table had already
turned loud and animated, and Tali found herself thinking of Nel, and how impossible it would be to read so many lips at once. For a time she allowed herself to shut out the sounds, as if she were
inside Nel’s silent world, and focus on the corncakes and potato stew placed in front of her. Though the food was plain, it was filling, and Tali spooned it into her mouth until every last
bit was gone, only vaguely aware of the introductions and conversations taking place around her.

“And what do you think, Tali?” Zarif asked, lightly placing his hand on hers to get her attention.

“Think of what?” Tali asked, suddenly pulled back to the present.

“She thinks of a man, and a handsome one, I’ll wager,” replied a male pledge, a Sun Guilder from the merchant class judging by his finely tailored orange vest and royal blue
scarf.

Those around him laughed good-naturedly, but Tali felt her face grow hot from the implication.

“I asked,” Zarif said quickly, trying to save her more embarrassment, “which part of training do you think will be the most difficult?”

Tali swallowed her discomfort and forced herself to give him a halfhearted grin. “You should know the answer to that. You saw me ride a horse this morning.”

Zarif laughed and reached for another corncake. “So I did. But I’ve a feeling you’re a quick study.”

“I’ll need to be if I hope to make the Guard,” Tali answered.

“Now that the dreck has gone off to serve in the kitchens and stables where they belong, we can assess the real competition,” the Sun Guilder said, motioning to an approaching
servant to refill a platter of corncakes. “Though I doubt any here can best me.”

Spoiled rotten son of a money merchant, Tali thought, clenching her teeth to keep from spewing the words aloud. Probably trained by his own personal maestro and raised with servants to
accommodate his every wish.

“My mother says that Centurio Abelino is a patient instructor,” said a young woman from the Moon Guild, passing the large tureen of stew across to Tali.

“I hope that is true,” Tali answered, grateful for the change in subject, and helped herself to another small portion.

“Even you girls should be able to outdo the remaining Earth Guilders,” said the Sun Guilder with a snort, trying to steer the conversation back to his own biting remarks. “Do
you suppose they plan to train with pitchforks and hacksaws? I doubt they know the first thing about swordsmanship.”

“Through no fault of their own, of course,” Zarif responded smoothly, then turned to his fellow Moon Guild pledge. “Varah, please tell us more of Centurio Abelino. Does he tend
to favor speed or jumping in his horsemanship training?”

Tali noticed the subtle look exchanged by Zarif and Varah and appreciated its significance. The Moon Guilders, known for their civilized and polite behavior, now worked together to keep the
conversation lively and nonconfrontational. Tali rubbed her palms on her thighs, willing herself to calm down. She had none of the diplomacy or grace of the Moon Guilders; rather, she wanted to
punch the cocky Sun Guilder…hard.

“I’ve heard that Jaden’s endurance training is by far the most brutal. He isn’t satisfied until he smells blood,” the Sun Guilder said now, still trying to
monopolize the discussion.

“I’m sure that’s just a rumor, Drayvon,” replied the Sun Guild girl next to him, glancing toward the platform where Jaden sat. “Perhaps he’s stricter than the
others in order to earn our respect. After all, he’s not much older than we are.”

“How old is he?” Tali asked the girl.

“Eighteen. The Queen named him centurio a year ago.”

Zarif nodded. “He’s the youngest centurio in Second Guard history. But it’s the Final Tournament I fear will be the biggest challenge, not Jaden’s training.”

“If last year is any indication, you may be right,” Varah said.

Tali had heard the story. An Earth Guild pledge had fallen to his death while crossing the Batenza Falls. Apparently he had slipped off the makeshift bridge, though no one had seen it happen.
His body had been found broken in the river below.

“That wasn’t an accident,” Drayvon said, leaning in to take a loud slurp of his stew. “The dirt killed himself.”

An uneasiness descended upon the table. Tali glanced at Zarif, who frowned into his stew. She had heard the Earth Guilders called “dirts” before, but her father forbade the term on
their tradeboat.

“And we’ve all heard about the two dirty wenches dismissed in disgrace,” Drayvon continued, smirking.

Tali stiffened and exchanged a worried glance with Zarif. Drayvon had spoken loudly; certainly the quiet Earth Guilders behind them had heard every word. Tali’s sweaty palms tightened
around her legs under the table. No wonder Chey hadn’t wanted to sit with us, she thought. Would this idiot never hush?

“With child,” the Sun Guild girl next to Drayvon whispered, “despite the hellbane root provided to female pledges.”

“It was the first time in a century that has happened,” Zarif said quietly, his friendly voice now cold and formal. “Very unfortunate.”

“Well, what do you expect from dirts?” Drayvon answered. “They aren’t exactly known for their great intellects.”

“And what’s
your
excuse?” Tali answered, raising her voice. She knew her face burned, but she could no longer tame her anger. She did not want to be associated with
this arrogant ass of a boy for one more moment. Zarif laid a warning hand on her arm, but she refused to take the hint. “It’s a wonder you can eat with all the filth in your
mouth,” Tali added.