Finally! I've been so busy satisfying my craving for instant gratification KW fluff that I've neglected this a little. My apologies! Things will be picking up soon after this chapter as the Progress gets underway. :) Enjoy, and feel free to tell me what you think! -DR

Training Mistress

Thak's Gate

January, 464

"Keep your staff steady, my lord," Kel reminded him for the umpteenth time. "You're still a beginner. If I wanted to, I could rip you open if you keep flicking it about like that."

Wyldon's mouth twitched slightly as he obeyed. "It's a good thing you don't want to, then."

Shows what you know, Kel thought to herself as she danced forward, testing his blocking skills. He parried neatly, spinning the weapon to keep her blade glancing off the polished wood handle. Lounging against the wall of the practice court, Daine shouted encouragement to Lord Wyldon.

"Come on, sir knight! Strike back at her. See how she let her guard down that time? That was on purpose! Take advantage of it!"

Kel grinned wryly at Daine's observations. "She's right, you know. I've given you at least three chances to finish me off."

Wyldon's face remained impassive, but she saw his eyes darken in concentration as their blades came together in a flurry of movement. Glancing over his shoulder for a brief moment, she noted a small cluster of pages watching from the sidelines. Her attention came back to the older man just in time to feel the flat of his perfectly controlled blade slide harmlessly against her neck. He grinned wickedly.

"Checkmate, Lady Knight."

They stepped back and bowed briefly. She had forgotten how quick he was, thanks to his previous mastery of other weapons. "All right Daine, you're turn!" Kel called over her shoulder. "I want to see that you've been rehearsing your low blocks."

As Daine trotted over, practice glaive in hand, Kel let her eyes roam to the six or so youths lounging at the fence. After speaking with her father, she had retrieved her glaive, intending to test herself with pattern dances. However, she had been waylaid by her two students, and agreed to take up their training again. Now, it seemed, her potential trainees were also interested in watching her at work.

As Kel walked around Daine, cracking out orders as the older woman performed a very basic pattern dance, she watched Wyldon approach the youngsters. Merric was there as well, she realized. Would it be so bad, braving scorn to teach these boys? she wondered. She had already made up her mind to take Yvenne under her tutelage, regardless of helping train the boy pages. But the lads would be different. They would be cocky, and some might rebel against learning from the Girl. Not the Girl any longer, she reminded herself grimly.

"Nicely done," she told Daine, returning her attention to the Wildmage. Daine brought the glaive up in the 'rest' position, panting lightly. "Your hands are moving better now, instead of being so stiff."

"How are my elbows?" Daine asked worriedly. "I've been trying to get my arms to move more smoothly, but they still feel awkward."

"As they should," Kel agreed, feeling Daine's biceps. "Once you build up some muscle, the tendons will learn what they're supposed to do, and it will get easier. Now, I'm going to teach you a more complicated pattern dance. When you've mastered that, I might pit you against Wyldon to see how you do with another learning opponent."

Daine's gray eyes widened. "Oh, no! He's so much better than I am, I couldn't possibly…"

"Tut," Kel interrupted, taking up her own glaive. "He's more accustomed to weaponry is all. Now, hold the glaive in 'the broom sweeps clean' position, right foot forward, toes out. Good. Bring the blade up – make your torso do the work! – and lunge. No, use your left foot. Again. And spin right, bringing your foot around behind and keeping the blade straight out in front of you. That's called 'the branches blow.' Always move with the glaive, not apart from it. Make it an extension of your body. Again."

She drilled Daine in the first five positions of the pattern dance repeatedly, until the Wildmage was damp with perspiration and flushed with exertion. Finally she relented, letting Daine lean on the stave to catch her breath.

"I've missed this," the other woman admitted, leaning down to stretch her calves and thighs. "I've practiced – or tried to, anyway – while you were gone, but it's not the same."

"It helps, having someone push you," Kel agreed, thinking of her fear of heights. "But remember, you are only as good as you make yourself. I know you're no knight in training, but there are dangers here as well as in Tortall. One day your life, and the lives, of others, could depend on how hard to push yourself."

Daine looked up at her, grinning. "Sounds like something Wyldon would say."

"I think he did say it," Kel agreed, glancing to where her old training master was speaking with Merric and the pages. Yvenne had joined the others at the rail; even from this distance, Kel could see the hunger in her eyes. With a sigh, she realized her mind was made up.

"You can be done, for now," Kel said to Daine. "I'll be back, if you want to keep going." With an easy stride she approached the small group at the edge of the ring, thumbs tucked in her belt. They fell silent as she approached; Wyldon and Merric watched her with interest, but she ignored them. Instead her eyes moved over the seven pages – six lads, ranging twelve to thirteen – and one girl. A likely bunch, she thought.

"Well, come on then," she said at last. "If I'm to train you, I need to get your measure. Staves are in the shed on the other side of the ring." She pointed. "Run twice around and meet me in the middle."

With no exceptions, the pages climbed the fence and took off.

Daine, who had walked up behind her with both glaives, laughed. "They'll be jumping to your tune fair quick, Lady Knight," she observed.

"I hope so," Kel murmured, glancing at her new fellow training masters.

Merric grinned cheekily. "I told Lord Wyldon you'd say yes. You were too good with the Haven orphans not to."

"Thank you for your confidence," Kel replied, deadpan. "Are you two going to just laze about, or are you going to come out and help?"

Wyldon's face twitched in the barest hint of a smile. "I think we'll 'just laze about,' if it's all the same to you, Mindelan. Sir Merric has seen you in action, but I have not."

Kel threw up her hands. "Very well! Don't expect me to take charge every time, though." Smothering the grin that tugged at her cheeks, she took her glaive from Daine and walked back to the center of the ring where her new students were waiting for her.

Still a touch short of breath, her muscles pleasantly sore from the afternoon's exercise, Kel sank into the ladies' baths with a sigh. She'd forgotten how good it felt to be clean after a sweaty, dirty day's work. The pages, she was pleased to discover, were quick learners. Under Lord Padraig's tutelage they had learned the basics of staff-fighting. While fighting with a glaive was quite different, it required the same fluidity of motion and sureness of step as staff combat, and most students were picking up the new weapon easily. Yvenne in particular seemed eager to please. Alan of Pirate's Swoop, her unspoken rival in everything, also worked harder than most.

Kel's only concern among the handful of pages she had worked with was that some, one in particular, came from conservative Houses. She had kept a close eye on Braydn of Blue Harbor throughout the afternoon. Not only was he slow to pick up the glaive-strokes – his hands and feet kept moving to staff positions – but he was resentful of her interventions to correct him. He was a third-year, and skilled enough; but it was clear that he thought himself above being taught by a woman, knighted or no.

Sighing, Kel ducked underwater and rinsed her hair roughly, fingers catching in the tangles. Yvenne was right – long hair did get in the way, regardless of what role Kel happened to be playing. I knew this would be difficult when I signed on, she reminded herself. All she could do was draw on her experience as a commander, and hope Wyldon and Merric could cover the rest. Perhaps they could take the troublesome ones in hand.

"I thought I might find you here." Hardly looking as if she needed a bath, Countess Mukta slid into the water beside Kel, reaching up with elegant fingers to undo her hairpins. Kel had been too absorbed with her designs earlier to get a good look at the noblewoman, and she took the chance now. Lady Mukta was tall, only an inch or so below Kel, with a hooked nose and a full mouth that tucked in at the corners. Her eyes were deep brown, sitting like dark jewels beneath arching brows. Her caramel-colored skin was light, for a Carthaki, but her hair was wiry and fell in a cascading mass of tiny curls as it fell from its bonds. She was built, Kel noted with some envy, like a perfect marble statue. Her skin was smooth, defying age, but laugh lines around her eyes and mouth suggested a woman in her mid-thirties. "I heard you were working with your pages from the north," she explained. Her voice was low and mellow, much like Lady Ilane's, and Kel felt herself relax.

"I was, my lady," Kel replied, watching Mukta accept soaps and scented oils from a female bathing attendant dressed only in a loincloth. She spoke carefully, still unsure whether the Countess intended to make herself an ally or an enemy. "I was hesitant to accept the position, but I am hoping my involvement in their training will bring more help than harm."

Mukta's dark eyes twinkled. "I hope so as well, Lady Knight. Perhaps it will allow our more conservative nobles to be more open-minded about our northern cousins' strange customs."

Knowing that she had not the wit or desire to dance around the older woman, Kel decided to be straightforward. "Would you consider yourself to be a conservative, my lady?"

The older woman's face creased with laughter. "I try to remain separate from both camps, though most of Lady Seratari's minions would certainly label me progressive," she explained, naming the group of noblewomen who made it a game to get under Kel's skin. Since her return from Tortall, thankfully, they had been less active in their cruelty. "Perhaps I am, in this regard. I am half Zu'uku, you see – the blood of female warriors runs in my veins, and I followed your training years closely."

"I beg your pardon," Kel interrupted apologetically, "but I have not heard of the Zu'uku."

"Forgive me," Mukta said, rinsing out her mass of wild dark hair. It took three times as long as it had taken Kel. "The Zu'uku are a native people of the far south. They are hunters and rovers, moving with the migrating herds. They have shrunk considerably since Ozorne took the throne, but Kaddar has begun putting laws in place to protect their nomadic ways. They do not conform to borders, you see. My mother was a princess of the Zu'uku, and was the second wife of my father."

Kel nodded. "I understand. Was she a warrior?"

"Yes; unfortunately her marriage to my father, while it ended the strife between his lands and the movement of her tribe, also ended her role as a fighter and hunter. As a noble of Carthak, she was forbidden to take up arms again. But times are changing. You teach a much older man to fight, and he obeys your orders. You teach another woman, the friend of animals, and the youngling girl who is a page." Mukta shook her head, eyes brimming with something Kel hesitantly identified as hope. "You Tortallan women wear men's clothes, and discard veils; you bring a princess who represents all these things. Many will fight the changes she will bring, but it is inevitable – change has already been set in motion."

"Believe it or not, Tortall isn't far ahead of you," Kel observed. "Even after Alanna won her shield and revealed her true sex, it was just as hard – harder – for me to follow in her footsteps. Even now, it isn't easy being a lady knight."

"It is never easy being anything," replied Mukta. "Least of all, I think, a noblewoman."

Kel laughed out loud. "That, my lady, is the truest thing I have heard in a long time."

Kel was in her rooms preparing for the evening meal when a knock came on her door. The Tortallan squire, bowed, holding out a note, and looked up at her, peeking through ash-brown bangs.

"Lachran!" she exclaimed, delighted. "I didn't know you were coming with the delegation!"

Her nephew bowed again, cheekily, and stepped forward to accept an embrace. "My knight-master is coming, so here I am!" he announced. "I would've gotten here sooner – your room, I mean – but these confounded hallways are so… organized."

"They're nothing like the palace in Corus," Kel agreed, struggling not to laugh at his boyish disgust at Carthaki systems. "Who is this from?" she asked, looking at the note for the first time.

"My lord Wyldon," Lachran replied. "He must've known we're related, because he sought me out especially."

Kel raised an eyebrow. "Did he pay you?"

"Yes'm," he said, kicking one foot sullenly.

"How much?"

Reluctant, he pulled a silver noble out of his belt, and Kel gasped.

"Scoundrel! Fancy hanging around in hopes of a few more coins. Get out, you," she laughed, tweaking his nose. "I'm sure we'll be running into one another."

"Yes, milady knight," her nephew said pertly, throwing a hasty salute before jogging back down the corridor.

Shaking her head at her kinsman's antics, Kel closed the door and unfolded the note.

Keladry –

I would like to commend you on your work with the pages this afternoon. Sir Merric was correct – you have a way with the youngsters that adds to your training methods. Yvenne in particular was pleased with the session, and so I thank you on her behalf for agreeing to join with me and Sir Merric in training the pages. She has intimated to me that should you not care to take her under your wing, she is content merely with training alongside the boys under your tutelage. With this in mind, you may give me your answer any time before the Progress beings.

Regards, etc.

Lord Wyldon of Cavall

"My lord, if I may have a word?"

Caught in the act of leaving the supper hall, Lord Wyldon paused and turned towards her with a bow. "Of course, lady knight. What may I do for you?"

"I had a question, regarding Yvenne," she explained, trying to convey without words that she wished to speak in private. Whether the message was successfully conveyed or he simply felt the same way, he offered an arm; when she took it, they strolled from the bustling area into one of the quieter courtyards.

"There's one thing I'm not sure about, in regards to training her privately," Kel began. "Perhaps you are the best person to advise me. When I was training as a page, and later a squire, I had almost no contact with Lady Alanna. People – yourself included – were afraid she might give me an unfair advantage in my training, an advantage the boys did not have. I'm simply concerned that my training her separately will have a similar effect."

"It's a valid concern," he agreed as they wound their way deeper into the twilit garden. "But consider – females are increasingly proving their ability to wield arms and fight as well as any man, whether as a Rider or a knight. There can be no possibility of you 'witching' her since you do not have the Gift, as Alanna does. And finally, the truth is that the boys have an equal chance to seek out extra training. Whether they choose to do so or not is up to them."

Kel looked up at him with a mixture of respect and relief. "Thank you, sir. You've put my mind at ease."

His mouth twitched. "I take it, then, that you've decided to accept my proposal?"

She opened her mouth and closed it again before replying. His words came to close to suggesting another arrangement entirely, one that was far more permanent and confusing. "I have."

"Are you well, Keladry?" he asked, concern etched into the line between his brows. "Please don't feel that you must accept this against your will."

"It's not that, sir." She rushed to add, "I am eager to teach her everything I know. I was only wondering about scheduling, and when I might fit her training in with the training of the other pages within the scope of the Progress."

"The training schedule will be unorthodox," Wyldon admitted. "Duke Gareth, when he is not busy, will take it upon himself to oversee the bookwork aspects of their education – mathematics, philosophy, and so on – along with a handful of Mithran priests. Between that and the Progress, you and I and Sir Merric will see to their physical training. As for Yvenne, she is to be your least concern. Once things are settled, the pages have had their training, and you have completed your additional duties, you may send for her and instruct her as you see fit."

Kel nodded slowly, relieved that she has escaped further questioning. "Then I suppose I ought to give her the news."

She found her new pupil on one of the practice courts, working through a pattern dance with her sword. Kel leaned on the fence, silently admiring the girl's technique. She was well along, for a page, and from what Wyldon had told her, she was similarly quick to grasp other weapons. She had no doubt Yvenne would make an excellent student.

Seeing she had company, the girl stilled and let the sword fall to her side before bowing. "My lady."

"I'm glad to see you're hard at work," Kel told her frankly, hopping the fence. "It takes almost constant practice to keep up with the boys."

"That is does," Yvenne replied politely; but her mask of calm was not as accomplished as Keladry's, and the lady knight could see the anxiety and hope dancing in her variegated green eyes. "To what do I owe the pleasure of my lady's presence?"

Kel laughed outright. "Please, dispense with the pleasantries. It's Kel, or Lady Kel if you must. If I'm to be training you, we can't have you tripping over your bows and deferences all the time."

This time the eagerness was unmistakable, although Yvenne kept herself still by a great force of will. "You've agreed, then? You're to be my tutor?"

"I am," Kel answered, hiding a smile. For the first time since she'd first spoken to the girl as a squire during the Progress, Yvenne was showing her youth. She's far too serious for a girl her age, she thought, conveniently forgetting she had been much the same during her own training years. I'll have to see if I can do anything about that. Deciding to think more on that later, she nodded to Yvenne's sword. "Since you're apparently warmed up, how about we try a few moves. Fetch a staff and let's see what you remember from this afternoon."

Yvenne bowed low before running to fetch a practice stave from the shed. "Right away, Lady Kel!"