Chapter 4

The following morning was a terrible one for the squires. Everyone had slept poorly, and Gavin looked like death. They lined up in the courtyard, most having barely touched their breakfast, and sluggishly began their exercises. It felt like Dunstan was pushing them especially hard as punishment for last night's behaviour. After running a few laps of the courtyard, Wolfram had to help drag Gavin out of a puddle of his own vomit. They were exhausted before they even began their spear drill. Wolfram struggled through it with aching muscles until the merciful relief of the midday break came.

That afternoon there was plenty of cleaning to do. Robin and Wolfram were set to work outside the stable block. The hunting gear from yesterday was still filthy, and some of the guests wanted theirs cleaned before they left. The two boys ended up polishing a half-suit of plate armour that belonged to one of Erik's cousins. To scour the dirt off, they had to use a gritty paste that made Wolfram's fingertips tender and stung his sinuses with its smell. Robin held the breastplate up to the light, searching for any spots he'd missed.

"This probably cost a gold crown to have made. You could buy a whole village with a suit of armour like this."

"No you couldn't," Wolfram said. "It's just metal."

Robin tapped the breastplate with his knuckle. "They do something special to it. If you shoot an arrow at this, it'll bounce straight off. It's like magic."

"It must be heavy to wear."

"Especially if you're hunting all day. Think about it, though. You could wrestle a boar in this and it wouldn't be able to hurt you."

"I don't believe half the things you say," Wolfram said, squinting at one of the knee plates as he tried to scrub something black out of a crease in the metal.

"You should," Dunstan's voice called. The wiry man-at-arms was taking a break from helping with the horses, learning against the stable door with a steaming cup of herbal tea in his hand. "Robin knows more than you about being a little lordling."

Wolfram looked at the piece of armour he was cleaning and held it up to Dunstan. "Do arrows really bounce off this?"

"Aye, most types. That's why it costs so much. Not many smiths in the kingdom know how to make it right. No one used to wear it a few years back. Too hot and expensive. You know anything about the last war?" Robin opened his mouth to speak, but Dunstan kept talking without waiting for an answer. "There was a big battle right at the start. One small army of a few hundred rebels against thousands of the king's men. Well, the little army won. Why? Because they had the deadliest archers in the land and the terrain to make use of them. Never think less of the bow because it's a peasant's weapon. That battle proved that bows can win wars. These days, every lord who can afford it wants armour that can turn aside an arrow." Dunstan slurped loudly from his tea, scowling at its hotness. "It's the fashion."

Wolfram felt a tapping on his shoulder. He turned and saw Cat the mute kitchen girl standing over him. She made a beckoning motion and pointed toward the kitchen.

"You want me in the kitchen?"

She nodded.

"Who wants him?" Dunstan asked.

Cat mouthed the word: "Meg."

"Go on, then. You hurry back as soon as she's done with you."

Wolfram was glad for an excuse to wipe his hands and get away from the gritty cleaning paste. Cat led him across the courtyard and in through the kitchen door. The building wasn't as hot as it had been yesterday, but everyone was still just as busy. They found Meg elbows-deep in a bowl of half-washed carrots.

"Good girl–take the rest of that tea through for the folks in the hall," she told Cat before addressing Wolfram. "Lady Julia wants a word with you."

Wolfram blinked in surprise. "Lady Julia?"

"That's what I said. She told me to send you up this afternoon. You're to wait for her in the solar."

"Where's the solar?"

"Upstairs from the hall," Meg said impatiently. "Make sure your boots are clean, and don't be a bother to the family while you're up there. You let Dunstan know it was the lady who sent for you and he won't mind you missing a few chores."

Wolfram had no idea why Lady Julia would want to speak with him. They'd barely exchanged a dozen words since his arrival. Of the three noble family members, she was the one he knew the least about. He wondered whether he was in trouble, but if that were the case surely it would be Dunstan or Lord Erik summoning him. Meg was busy with her carrots again, so Wolfram squeezed past her and made his way down the passageway to the keep. He scrubbed his boots with a handful of straw in the parlour before heading into the great hall. The door leading upstairs waited for him at the far end of the high table. He glanced around nervously as he approached it. He felt like he was about to go somewhere forbidden. When no one moved to stop him, he pushed the door open and went upstairs.

The stairwell took him to a small landing at the back of the keep that led into what must have been the solar. It was a big room, not as wide as the great hall, but still long and spacious. A fine table stood beside a stone hearth that had a chimney to carry out the smoke. It didn't seem to be all that useful, for Wolfram could still smell the smoke from downstairs seeping up through the floorboards. Bundles of herbs hung from the lower beams of the vaulted roof, adding their fragrance to the air so that the smoky smell didn't dominate the room. Wolfram took a few hesitant steps forward, careful to avoid a colourful woollen rug that lay opposite the hearth. He didn't trust that his boots were clean enough to set foot on something so fine.

The silence of the room was what struck him most. The great hall was rarely ever quiet, but up here he could hear every pop and crackle of the hearth. A floorboard creaked under his weight as he stepped forward. The air became clearer at the other end of the room where an open door let in a breeze from the keep roof. Lady Ingrid sat beside the door with a wooden board game in her lap. Wolfram recognised the game; he'd spent hours playing it with his sisters when he was younger. The goal was to move all the coloured pegs on your side of the board into the holes on your opponent's before they managed to do the same.

Wolfram approached Ingrid with a smile. "Are you playing by yourself, milady?"

She looked up as if noticing his presence for the first time. "What are you doing up here?"

"I was told Lady Julia wanted to see me."

"What for?"

"I don't know. I'm supposed to wait for her here."

"Well, she's in her room." Ingrid gestured vaguely at a row of heavy doors behind the nice rug.

"I'd better wait."

Ingrid sighed. "If you must."

Wolfram stood there awkwardly as she returned her attention to the board game. His momentary pleasure at seeing Ingrid had given way to apprehension. He wasn't sure how to talk with a lady like her. It wasn't at all like talking to his sisters. He remembered Dunstan's conversation with Lord Erik the night before, about being offered a kiss from Lady Ingrid, and his stomach writhed.

"Would you like to play that game with me while I wait?" Wolfram asked, unable to bear the silence any longer.

Ingrid looked surprised. "You know how to play?"

"I used to play it with my sisters. I usually lost."

A hint of a smile touched the corner of Ingrid's mouth. "Very well, then." She stood up and went to the table, drawing back one of the cushioned chairs for Wolfram and setting the board down between them. "You play blue, I'll play rose."

"Yes, milady."

They played the game in silence for several minutes. Ingrid didn't seem to be particularly experienced with it, but Wolfram was nervous and he kept making mistakes. It was probably wise, he thought, not to try too hard to beat his noble mistress.

"So, merchant families play games like this too, do they?" Ingrid asked.

"Ours isn't really a merchant family. My mother's a merchant, but she hires other people to do most of the work for her. She's got an inn she runs the rest of the time."

"Oh." Ingrid sounded vaguely disappointed. She reached out a gloved hand and plucked one of her rose-coloured pegs from its hole, then used it to move one of Wolfram's over a space.

"Milady," Wolfram said, mustering the nerve to ask something that had been on his mind since Meg spoke to him. "What's Lady Julia like?"

"She's not my mother, if that's what you're thinking."

"No. She's your father's ward?"

"Correct." Ingrid moved another of her pegs, skipping Wolfram's turn. "One of his second cousins, I think. He has plenty. She couldn't manage her own estate, so she gave it up to live here. I don't think anyone else was willing to take her in."

Wolfram didn't mind missing his turn. He was more interested in hearing about Julia. "What happened with her?"

"Her husband died in the war. She might've had a child that died, too. I can't remember. Anyway, she tried to carry on running their estate by herself, but she couldn't cope. After a few years, she gave it up to her late husband's brother and came to live here. It was shortly after my mother passed away, as I recall."

"I'm sorry."

Ingrid looked up at him. "What for?"

"For your mother's passing."

She scowled, her beautiful features sharpening with a look of bitter hurt. "Don't say that. You didn't know her. What's the point in saying the decent thing if you don't mean it?"

Wolfram was tongue-tied. He hadn't meant to insult her.

Ingrid glared at him for a moment before her expression softened and she made another move.

"Well, Cousin Julia will enjoy your good manners. She has a soft heart and a soft head."

Still not knowing what to say, Wolfram moved one of his pegs along the board. Ingrid didn't seem to like Julia, which only made him more nervous about why he'd been summoned. If there was some animosity between them, he felt like he should be on Ingrid's side.

They went back to playing in silence. Wolfram could hear the faint sound of voices coming from behind one of the big solar doors. He turned to look at it during one of Ingrid's turns.

"Do you want to peek?" she asked.

Wolfram turned back quickly, shaking his head. "No, milady."

Ingrid grinned. "Go on. Have a look. I won't tell."

Wolfram knew he shouldn't, but there was something exciting about being goaded on by Ingrid.

"Is that Lady Julia's room?"

"Yes. There's a gap by the door handle. Have a look and tell me what you see."

Being careful not to make the floorboards creak, Wolfram took off his boots and crept over to the door. The woollen rug was soft and thick beneath his toes. He looked back at Ingrid, and she nodded at him. This was fun despite his nervousness, and it had been a long time since he got into any real mischief. Leaning forward, he aligned his eye with the space between the door and its frame. Just as Ingrid had said, there was a gap where the wood had warped. It was big enough for him to see a clear sliver of the room beyond. Moving his head back and forth allowed him to take in more details: a stone hearth like the one in the solar, a canopied bed, a small table, and two figures standing next to it. Lady Julia was one of them, and the other was Lord Erik. He had his arms around her and was resting his head on her shoulder. She rocked him gently like a mother comforting a child. Her voice was very soft when she spoke, but Wolfram was close enough now that he could make out the words.

"They'll all be gone the day after tomorrow."

"Until the next time we have to empty the treasury putting on another feast," Erik's deep voice rumbled in response.

"Don't mope. Think about all the things you have to look forward to."

"What are those? It's wearing me down. I'm too old to keep pretending."

"You are not pretending," Julia said firmly. "You are a strong man and a fine lord. In time, everything will be well again."

"I don't deserve your kindness." Erik drew in a heavy breath and straightened up, breaking the embrace. "Don't mind me. I think the boy's out there waiting for you."

Lady Julia's eyes moved to the door, and for a second it looked like she was staring directly at Wolfram. He pulled back, banging the wall with his elbow in his haste. His heart pounded in his chest. Ingrid was smiling at him from across the room. He felt stupid for having listened to her. The door to Julia's room creaked open and Lord Erik stepped out. He looked Wolfram up and down when he saw him standing there.

"Have you been waiting long, boy?"

Wolfram shook his head. "Not long, milord."

"The lady Julia wants to see you."

Wolfram nodded.

"Well, go in, then. Ingrid, come downstairs. Our guests need entertaining."

"Yes, Father."

The solar fell quiet again as Wolfram was left alone with the crackling hearth. Taking a deep breath, he turned and stepped into Lady Julia's room. She was waiting for him at the table.

"Good afternoon, Wolfram. I hope you weren't spying on us."

For the second time that day, he was tongue-tied. He turned back toward the solar and began making a vague gesture to where Ingrid had been sitting.

"Let me guess," Julia pre-empted him. Her voice reminded Wolfram of steam rising from a warm bath. "Ingrid put you up to it? It's a habit of hers. I trust you know better than to repeat what you hear listening at doors. And I hope you'll learn not to do everything a pretty girl tells you."

"Are you angry with me, milady?"

Julia shook her head. "I am rather tired of being angry at the small things in life. Come in. You may sit with me."

Wolfram was still tense, but the noblewoman's calm manner took the edge off his unease. She wasn't addressing him the way he was used to being addressed by women of status. Now that he thought about it, he'd never heard her speak harshly to anyone in the castle. She reminded him more of a gentle nun than the lady of a great house. He took a seat with her at the table.

"Is something on your mind, Wolfram?"

"No, milady."

"Are you certain? You look troubled. I spoke with Meg earlier today. She said you were fighting with the other squires last night."

"No, milady," Wolfram repeated quickly. "That is to say–it wasn't much of a fight. They were all drunk."

"I see. It was a very rambunctious evening for everyone. But I don't want you fighting, not you or any of our boys. It breaks my heart to think you might be having difficulties here."

Wolfram finally began to relax. He wasn't here to be scolded or punished. Lady Julia was just worried about how he was settling in. He felt touched by her kindness.

"Thank you, milady. I'm not having any trouble."

"Are you sure? You must tell me if you are."

A response hovered on Wolfram's tongue. He wanted to answer simply, to get it over with and leave, but Lady Julia's concern seemed earnest. She wouldn't ignore him like Lord Erik or slap him upside the head like Dunstan if he spoke his mind.

"Are we really going to become knights?"

Julia raised her eyebrows. "What makes you think you are not?"

"It's just something I noticed when I arrived. And I heard the baron talking about it yesterday. There aren't any knights here at the castle. Aren't squires supposed to serve knights?"

Julia looked over at the window, resting her temple against a thumb as she shook her head. "Dunstan is quite right about you. You're a man with your heart set on something."

Hearing the lady refer to him as a man made Wolfram's chest swell with pride.

Julia continued: "May I ask you something? Do you know what a noble household is? Do you understand what we do, and how you are part of it?"

"I think so." Wolfram took his time answering, speaking slowly so that he could think before the words came out. His mother and father had explained the feudal hierarchy to him many times. "You collect rent from the people who live on your land. They give you money, or part of their harvest, and you protect them and uphold the law."

Lady Julia looked pleased with his answer. "And why is that, Wolfram? Why is it that we collect the money and others have to serve us?"

"Because... that's how it is."

"Do you think it is our right through birth? Or because God has ordained it so? Or because we have lived virtuous lives and thus earned our positions in this castle?"

Wolfram didn't want to contradict her. It would have been a grave insult to imply that any one of those things were untrue. But that wasn't what his parents had taught him.

"I think a noble family works hard to keep what they have," he answered diplomatically.

Lady Julia let out a long sigh. "Yes, we do. And sometimes even that is not enough. People think things are the way they are because the world is set in stone; that nobles are nobles and serfs are serfs and it has all been ordered just so–by God, or the king, or by whichever power they believe in. I do not expect you to understand this at your age, but I think you will come to realise it on your own sooner or later. The world is a terrible mess, Wolfram. It is a tangled, unfair, chaotic thing, but we try our hardest to put it into some pattern of sensibility. Nobles are merely the custodians of the tenuous order imposed on this land. Erik is always upset with me when I speak like this, but I believe in the precept of honesty."

Wolfram wasn't sure he understood, but he listened on obediently.

"Elkinshire is not a prosperous place. Perhaps I am a bad luck charm, for it was not always this way. Erik does not receive the rent he is due. His knights are all old or incompetent. Trust me when I say that you are better off here with Dunstan than you would be with any of them. There is outlawry and crime in the villages, and rarely is it dealt with by the locals. They look to us for help, yet we have little help to give. Would you be eager to pay rent to your lord if he was unable to protect you, Wolfram?"

"Can't the baron force them to pay?"

Lady Julia shook her head. "Erik could not intimidate them into paying even if he wanted to. He barely has the men to staff this castle, and his knights are the ones keeping most of the money back. If he appeals to the sheriff of Tannersfield, the whole county will think him an incompetent old fool, and Erik's pride is as precious to him as his land."

Wolfram's heart sank. So his worries had been founded all along; Elkinshire was poor, Lord Erik's knights were not the sort of men any squire would want to serve, and there was little hope of him being granted an estate of his own–not a prosperous one, at least.

"So, I would be better off serving another household?" he asked. It probably wasn't that simple. A squire couldn't leave without good reason any more than an apprentice could turn his back on his master without suffering the consequences.

"You might," Julia said. "Or you could work hard to change the fortunes of our estate. Elkinshire can prosper. I have toured the villages myself. It is not blighted crops or rampaging outlaws that are the source of our problems, it is a lack of authority. With a dozen extra brave, strong young men like you, that will change. You could be a hero to us, Wolfram."

She'd said the right thing. Wolfram was too young to appreciate the nuances of everything he'd just heard, but it was easy enough for him to understand that Elkinshire was in trouble. Lord Erik, Ingrid, and Lady Julia needed his help. Perhaps he couldn't be a rich and glamorous knight here, but he could still be a champion to his lord and ladies. He could protect these lands and deliver justice to the people. He could learn to fight and ride and restore order to the estate. And one day, when Elkinshire prospered again, he could look back and say: I had a hand in it . It wasn't everything he'd wanted, but it was a challenge he could either rise to, or back down from.

And Wolfram never liked to back down.