CHAPTER 3

Rosefall

It only took a minute to trot over to Rosefall Hill-they were already by the footbridge. Grady wanted them to run, but Gialyn was having none of it; competing in the hill climb would be embarrassing enough, he didn't have to add apparent eagerness to his shame. They came upon a large group of people gathered together on a flat stretch of land at the bottom of the hill path. The crowd was much bigger than Gialyn had expected. They couldn't Rosefall Hill-they were already by the footbridge. Grady wanted them to run, but Gialyn was having none of it; competing in the hill climb would be embarrassing enough, he didn't have to add apparent eagerness to his shame. They came upon a large group of people gathered together on a flat stretch of land at the bottom of the hill path. The crowd was much bigger than Gialyn had expected. They couldn't all be here to watch the race, to watch him. Gods! He made his way through the throng and raised his hand when Seth Garriner called on all those who had come to take part in the climb.

Fool, all you had to do was keep your hand down.

Ealian was there with his father, Theo Tanner.

The emissary's son was a few months younger than Gialyn-he was also Elspeth's twin, although you would not have guessed, they looked nothing alike. Ealian was running on the spot while his father rubbed his shoulders and whispered into his ear, doubles giving his son instructions on how to win the race. Ealian would nod and make fists each time Theo slapped him on the back. They seemed to take it all very seriously.

Gialyn lined up on Ealian's left.

The emissary's son shot him a haughty glance. "I didn't think you would bother, Re'adh, not after last year."

A heckling chorus rang out from the group standing behind Theo Tanner. Astin Barrair and four of Ealian's "friends" were pointing fingers and laughing. Gialyn had long believed the four only pretended to like Ealian because he brought them things. The spoilt fool always had money to spend.

Seth Garriner, the lanky assistant from the Lesgar Inn, gave a loud whistle, then began to explain the rules, "No kicking, pushing, pulling, or tripping. You start at the last of three whistles. The first to raise the Red Flag on the hilltop wins. Three silver for the winner, two for second place, and one for third. Any questions?"

Gialyn heard shouts of encouragement from Grady, Meric, and a few others he didn't recognise, but nobody asked any questions. He wished someone would, just to put the whole thing off for a few moments longer.

What am I doing?I could be watching the fiddlers.

Maybe he could skulk into the background while everyone focused on Seth.

Too late.

Whistle...

Gialyn felt nerves biting at his stomach as he looked down the line. Ealian gave him a contemptuous snigger.

Whistle...

He stamped the floor to make sure his boots were-

Whistle...

Gialyn started at a hop, almost tripping over his own feet. He was dead last by the time they hit the base of the hill. Leaning forward, he cast a wide stance. Kicking his heels into the hard ground, he pulled at the long grass while thrusting down with his legs. The first half minute passed quickly. Looking around, he was surprised to find himself in fourth place. Steady breaths shortened into hard panting. Despite the hot sun, the air felt cold in his throat. One after the other, and in a steady rhythm, he planted a foot and pushed off... planted a foot and pushed off... planted a foot... "Balance first, speed second," is what Grady had told him, on the way to Rosefall. It seemed to be working: three-quarters of the way and he was solidly in second place.

That'll do, second place is good enough. Now, don't go acting the fool and trip over, again.

Gialyn flinched as a rock hit his shoulder. He looked up. Another rock was heading towards his head. He ducked, but the rock hit his hip instead.

What is the fool doing? The cheating twolloc! Curse you, Ealian Tanner, kicking rocks at me.

Gialyn dug in. Head down, he barrelled up the hill, focusing on his next handhold, heedless of the pain in his legs. He had doubled his pace by the fourth stride, going faster now than at the start. He eyed Ealian and overtook him. A quick look up the hill-he still had a good thirty paces to go. Wheezing heavily, his lungs began to burn. But there was no quitting, not now, and no slowing down, either. His legs felt fat from the blood coursing through his veins. And yet numb, the same as when he sat on his foot for too long. He gripped so hard at the tufts of grass that he struggled to open his hand to take the next hold. Finally, he pulled himself onto the hilltop.

Legs shaking, he stood, turned, and raised his arms in the air. Ealian was still a good ten paces down. Gods, I won. I have won! Waving, he shouted to those down below. Grady, Meric, and a few others he didn't recognise from this distance shouted back. They were pointing south.

"Get the... the fla..."

What are they all shouting about?

Then more people joined in with the shouting.

He stopped waving and tried to listen.

"Get the Flag! Get the Flag!"

The Flag. Gods!

Gialyn turned on his heels. He kicked off so hard he slipped. Ealian had reached the summit. Gialyn darted towards the red flag. A hand grabbed his elbow. He pulled free, almost falling. Another hand, Ealian was pulling at his waist now. He swiped it away, almost falling again. Ealian's growling cry was too close. No, you don't, Tanner, not now. The last few yards were steep. Gialyn wrenched at the grass in front of him as he scrambled to the peak. Finally, with his left hand outstretched, he yanked the red flag out of the ground and raised it in the air.

Ealian fell at his feet, rolled over on his back, and covered his face with his hands.

Gialyn could clearly hear the cheers from below, maybe a few laughs as well-and booing, likely from Ealian's cronies.

He raised the flag high and shouted, "I won!" in a half-celebratory, half-disbelieving voice.

"You were lucky," Ealian grunted.

Gialyn looked down at him. "Why did you try to cheat? Why do you always do that?"

"What are you moaning about? You won, didn't you?" Ealian scoffed as though that were all that mattered.

Gialyn ignored him. He revelled for a moment in the cheering of his supporters, before starting back down the hill.

It took considerably longer to get down the hill than it had taken to climb it. Gialyn had to sit three times while he waited for his legs to stop shaking. Once on flat ground, he found himself surrounded by folk patting him on the back, congratulating him. Grady put an arm around his shoulder and shook him so hard Gialyn thought his legs would give way. Meric just gave him a hearty pat on the back. "Well done, my friend!" he said.

The crowd parted, and Theo Tanner pushed his shuffling frame to the fore.

Ealian followed his father, head bowed, gazing at the ground. It appeared the emissary was none too pleased by his son's failure. I wonder if Theo told him to cheat.

"That was well done, Master Re'adh, a very determined performance."

Theo said the words, but the fat man wouldn't look him in the eye. Instead, the emissary gazed over Gialyn's head.

"Thank you, sir." Gialyn bowed respectfully. At the same time, Grady said, "You're lucky that boy of yours didn't get a thump on the ear, kicking rocks at Gialyn like that."

Theo shot Grady a dark look. He made no reply to the accusation but fixed his eye of Gialyn. "Be on the stage in half an hour to receive your prize, Master Re'adh." The fat man gave another quick, sideways glance at Grady before walking off.

Grady laughed at Theo's back and then took Gialyn by the elbow. "Come on, I want to see your father's face when you tell him you beat the Tanner Boy," he said loud enough so Theo would hear.

Grady continued, "Don't let people like that get the better of you, my lad, or you'll be bowing for the rest of your days. They are no better than we are. Most are a lot worse."

Gialyn nodded as they turned towards the path and crossed the footbridge into the town green.

Grady opened his mouth to say something more, but what was happening on the small stage drew his attention. The messenger Theo had spoken of was reading from a long scroll....

"...of the population can apply. The tax holiday on transported wheat will continue until midsummer's eve." A muffled cheer rose from the crowd. "Thereafter, it will return to its previous rate of one bushel in twelve.

"And the final order of business, a note from his Royal Highness, King Vierdan, Sovereign of the Most Exalted Order of the Empire of Moyathair, Leader of the House of Eidred, High Seat of Bailryn and Aleras'moya.

"His Majesty sends greeting to all, and a warm invitation to attend the capital on this midsummer's eve. Upon which time, the Master at Arms shall choose candidates for the position of Palace Guard. Any citizens wishing to apply for the post, who meet the criteria, should appear in person before the Master at Arms no later than Mia'tirdis-Monday at noon-the week of midsummer's eve. Gods save the king!" The messenger rolled up the scroll and bowed to those gathered.

"Gods save the king!" the crowd replied, albeit somewhat muffled by other chatter.

The crowd began to thin, many making their way back to their stalls. Many more huddled in groups and talked in varying degrees of interest in what they had heard from the messenger. Some seemed pleased at the tax cuts while others complained that there shouldn't be a tax at all. However, no one made much fuss over the palace guard recruitments. The position was open to any Surabhan between the age of eighteen and twenty-one. In the case of the Geddy Vale, that meant no more than five or six people at most.

"Strange he would bother coming all this way for that," Grady muttered. "Why not just send a scroll? Forty leagues on a barge for a couple of tax announcements and guard recruitment... it makes no sense!"

Gialyn heard Grady's mutterings but made no comment. He was still too excited over his victory to give a thought to such things as taxes and guard recruitments.

"I hear congratulations are in order," a girl's voice said.

Gialyn's heart leaped. He couldn't have been more surprised if Elspeth had jumped out from behind a tent. His tired legs very nearly gave way at the sight of her.

The girl was everything Gialyn had ever imagined that beauty should be. Half a hand shorter-though she held herself in such a way that made her appear taller-she stood square in front of him. She was clad in her hunter garb as if back from tracking a pack of wild boar, rather than competing in a town fair. The curve of her hip made him want to put his hands in his pockets, but he settled for straightening up his shirt and folding his arms.

Elspeth was holding a slip of paper with the words Archery, First Place written in fine script. At least one of the Tanner children had done Theo proud.

Gialyn rarely, if ever, had been so close, and definitely not while he had been the subject of her gaze. His first few words fared no better than his feet. He coughed and started again. "Thank you, Elspeth, and congratulations to you, too." He bowed. Although it wasn't necessary, nobody bows in Albergeddy. Honestly, he didn't know what else to do.

Elspeth mimed a curtsey-she wore no skirts to flare-and gave him a haughty grin. "Why thank you, sir, you are most kind," she said, showing off the slip of paper.

Gialyn slouched nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, gazing between the ground and Elspeth's knees. Say something, you fool! Don't just stand there like a lemon. "Did you win by much?" he asked. Yes, that's a good question. Well done!

"It was closer than I thought it would be." Elspeth stood up straighter and raised her chin even higher. "Mr. Calande took me to a three arrow shoot-off. Of course, I was sure of the outcome. I could hear by his breathing that the man was getting tired and likely the worse for ale, too. I'm sure he had three jugs while on the range! Men... they think they can do everything at once."

"I thought you would win. I watched you... uh... I mean, I've seen you practicing, when I walk past the field... sometimes."

Meric coughed and grinned widely in Gialyn's direction.

"Yes, you have to work hard if you want to be the best," Elspeth said, fiddling with her bow. "You will learn that, when we get to Bailryn." A cheeky grin creased Elspeth lips.

Gialyn lowered his arms and felt his jaw drop. "When we get to.... Who...? Who is going to Bailryn?" What is she talking about? I'm not going anywhere.

A faint glimmer of realisation itched the back of Gialyn's mind. He felt a surge of anxiety rising in his chest. Oh no, father, what have you done?

"Oh, hasn't your father told you yet?" She waved off her own question. "Silly me, of course not, you wouldn't have had time to speak with him. Yes, my father has asked Mr. Re'adh to escort Ealian and me to Bailryn for the palace guard recruitments. Of course, Ealian isn't applying; he's just coming because he cannot bear to miss anything. Your father has agreed. He said it would be 'good for you to see a bit of the world.' I think that's how he put it 'Maybe Gialyn will apply for the post, too?' or something like that. I didn't hear the conversation. Can you use a bow or sword?"

"Can I what? Is this...? Are you sure? When was this decided?" Gialyn knew he was blank-faced and gawking at Elspeth-of all people-but at that moment, he didn't care.

"Forgive me. I should not have spoken until you have talked with your father."-Gialyn knew she wasn't sorry at all, or at least she didn't look it-"I'm sure he will explain when you see him."

"I'm sure he will," Gialyn whispered. He looked to Meric and Grady. They both hunched their shoulders. They looked as surprised as he was. "Excuse me. I...."

Gialyn walked off without another word.

"Oh dear, seems I've put my foot in it." Gialyn heard Elspeth say.

He looked over his shoulder. Grady and Meric exchanged puzzled looks, and then followed Elspeth towards the stage, where Theo had begun handing out prizes.

Gialyn was late for his.