The Secret of the Swords (2 page)

Tommy pushed her mop of hair out of her eyes and looked at the boy again. This time she noticed that he was holding one of the wooden practice swords. He was jabbing the tip of the sword at a black and white cat he'd trapped in a corner, and it was the cat who was yowling.

‘Hey!' Tommy called. ‘You leave that cat alone.'

The red-haired boy turned around. ‘Who's going to make me?' he sneered. ‘You?' He jabbed the cat again.

This time the cat mewed pitifully and Tommy, who loved animals, ran towards the pair.

‘Stop!' she cried. ‘You're hurting it.'

The boy spun around and pointed the sword at Tommy. ‘Who are you?' he demanded.

‘I'm – I'm Tommy. I work in the kitchen.'

‘A kitchen girl?' said the boy. He laughed rudely. ‘Well I don't take orders from kitchen girls – I'm Keeper of the Bows. I'm in charge of all the castle's crossbows and longbows. What are you in charge of?' His gaze fell on the broom Tommy was still holding in one hand. ‘Ha! I know – you're Keeper of the Brooms!' He snorted with laughter at his own joke, then said, ‘Go away, kitchen girl, I'm practising my sword fighting.'

He turned and lunged towards the cat. Tommy sprang forward and with her free hand grabbed the hem of his tunic.

With an angry shout the boy pushed Tommy away roughly. ‘Would you rather I practise on you?' he said.

‘At least it would be a fair fight,' Tommy snapped.

‘A fair fight?' scoffed the boy. ‘How dare you presume to be my equal! Get lost, kitchen girl.' And then he lifted his sword above his head and spun on his heel.

As the wooden blade tore through the air towards the cat cowering against the stones, Tommy leaped forward. Flinging herself between the boy and the cat, she halted the sword's arc with the broomstick.

‘I warned you!' he snarled, before swinging his arm back and driving his blade straight at Tommy.

CHAPTER 2

T
OMMY'S
H
EART
was pounding as she dodged to her left. The point of the wooden sword snagged on the thin fabric of her dress, tearing it.

The boy lunged at her again, and again Tommy dodged.

‘Don't you know how to do anything but dodge?' the boy jeered. ‘You might have a boy's name, but you fight like a girl!'

Tommy's fear turned to outrage. How dare he? First he was rude to her because she worked in the kitchen, now he thought he was better than her just because he was a boy!

He swung the sword again, and suddenly a voice in Tommy's head said, ‘Parry!' She lifted her broom to block him.

Taken by surprise, the boy nearly lost his balance. He glared at Tommy and began to lash out wildly with the wooden sword, slashing the air this way and that.

Tommy, without even thinking, parried every blow. It was as if her arm was remembering all the times she had watched the knights with their swords, and knew exactly what to do.

By now the boy was panting and his face was as red as his hair. His movements were growing slow and clumsy, but Tommy, who was smaller and lighter, felt full of energy.

‘Come on,' she said, holding the broomstick in both hands and waving it back and forth. ‘You can beat a kitchen girl with a broom, can't you?'

The boy's grip tightened on his sword.‘I'll show you …' he began, but before he could show her anything a shout rang across the courtyard.

‘Reynard! Get in here at once!'

The boy let his sword fall to his side. ‘Coming, Smith!' he called over his shoulder. Looking at Tommy, he narrowed his eyes and said, ‘You're in big trouble, kitchen girl.' Then he turned and hurried towards the armoury.

Tommy sighed. The boy – Reynard – was right. What had she been thinking? She, a mere kitchen girl, fighting the Keeper of the Bows! ‘I
am
in big trouble,' she said aloud.

‘I wouldn't be so sure,' said a voice.

Tommy jumped. ‘Who said that?' She looked around the courtyard. It was deserted. Perhaps a guard …? But when she looked up to the tops of the towers, shading her eyes against the sun, the guards all had their backs to her.

She turned to look at the cat, which was now calmly licking its paw. The cat paused in its licking to meet Tommy's gaze, then returned to its bath.

Tommy shrugged. She must have imagined the voice. Just as she had imagined her broom was a wooden sword, like Reynard's. She looked at the broom, which she still grasped in both hands. Reynard could practise with his wooden sword and one day become a squire. Tommy could practise with her broom as much as she liked, but she would still only be a kitchen girl. It was time she gave up her impossible dreams of becoming a knight, of fighting battles and winning tournaments. She should be dreaming proper kitchen-girl dreams, of growing up and becoming … a cook. Lowering the broom to the ground, she began to sweep.

Behind her, the cat finished its bath, stretched, and walked away.

The sun had sunk below the battlements when Tommy returned to the kitchen. Her arms ached from the constant motion of sweeping, and even when she closed her eyes from weariness she could still see the endless rows of f lagstones. All she wanted was a bowl of soup then to fall into bed, but Mrs Moon had other ideas. She wanted to scold Tommy some more.

‘Now I hope you've learned your lesson, Thomasina,' the cook began. ‘And there'll be no more of this nonsense about—'

‘Ah, excuse me.' In the doorway stood a man so tall his dark hair nearly brushed the top of the doorframe.

‘Sir Benedict!' Mrs Moon exclaimed. ‘Goodness me, what brings you to the kitchen, sir?'

‘I'm looking for one of your kitchen girls,' said the knight. ‘Her name is Tommy, I believe. I hear she had a bit of bother with one of the boys from the armoury.'

Tommy looked at the floor in dismay. She never should have fought that horrible Reynard!

‘Thomasina!' Mrs Moon's voice was shrill. ‘What have you been up to, girl?'

Sir Benedict turned to Tommy. ‘I've been told you like to watch the knights practise.'

Tommy blushed but didn't say anything. Had someone been watching her while she was watching the knights?

‘And I hear you know how to handle a sword,' Sir Benedict continued. ‘Or a broom, rather.' His blue eyes twinkled.

‘I love swords, sir,' Tommy blurted out. ‘Much more than brooms,' she added.

Mrs Moon said tartly, ‘That's no use to me in the kitchen, girl. I'd rather you knew how to handle a paring knife.'

‘You are quite right,' the knight said. ‘Tommy is no use in the kitchen.'

Oh no! Did Sir Benedict mean to throw her out of the castle? But she had nowhere else to go! No family, no home. Flamant Castle was her only home.

‘That is why,' Sir Benedict continued, ‘I would like to offer Tommy a job in the armoury.'

Tommy's mouth dropped open. ‘In the armoury, sir?' she whispered.

Sir Benedict nodded. ‘That's right. One of the boys, Edward, has become a squire, so I am looking for someone to take his place. Edward looked after all the bladed weapons: the swords and daggers. What do you say, Tommy? Will you be the castle's new Keeper of the Blades?'