Castle of Deception - Chapter Three

[kalinara]

So last time, Kevin decided to be an annoying teenager and strike out on his own. He immediately ends up embarrassing himself and courting disaster. I'm sure things will be fine now though.



So anyway, Kevin's getting closer to the castle, marveling at how impressive it seems. And then things get even more exciting as two knights in gleaming mail plunge down the hill on "powerful destriers" trailed by some squires.

“Get out of the way, boy!” they shouted.

Kevin hastily kneed his mule aside. With a shout of “Peasant fool!” the riders were past him, showering him with dirt and pebbles, and gone.

Kevin, being a kid, is offended by this. He's wearing his best clothes and while they're not noble quality, they're pretty suitable and beyond what a peasant would wear.

Probably true, kid, but you're at a castle now. And indeed, when he gets to the gates, they're shut in his face. He's told that servants use the postern gate instead.

Kevin, in a rare moment of prudence, decides not to shout out his business for everyone to hear and heads to the postern gate instead. He tells himself that this is just a mistake and will be corrected inside.

I'd mock the kid, but to be fair, he is the student of a guy who supposedly saved the entire kingdom a few years back. So I do get why he's expecting a warmer welcome.

And I have to admit, while I ate this up as a kid, I kind of feel like this is a bit much. Ms. Lackey is definitely indulging in her anti-romantic fantasy side - something we didn't see too much in the Valdemar books that she was publishing at this time, but eventually becomes more of an overt thing in her writing. She doesn't tend to have a lot of sympathy for characters who decide to prioritize wild fantasies over practicality. And I definitely think that's what's happening here.

But at the same time, I kind of wish she'd cut this kid a break. Maybe it's just because we only just finished with a far more obnoxious character that never got taken down the pegs that she needed to, but this feels a bit much for harmless ego.

Oh, and I was wrong, it seems. Kevin actually does still have the sealed parchment that his master gave him. I was thinking he'd end up losing it for even more humiliation.

Anyway, he makes it inside and is very impressed by the size and the amount of people. We get a description!

He’d never seen so many crowded into so small a space, not even on market day. Here was the blacksmith’s forge, the smith hard at work shoeing a restless gray destrier, calmly avoiding the war horse’s attempts to bite; there, the carpenter’s workshop echoed with hammering; and next to that, the armorer sat in the sunlight before his shop, mending the links in a mail shirt. A tangled crowd of castle folk chattered away as they did their tasks, while their children ran squealing and laughing all around the ward. Maybe the whole place did smell a hit too strongly of horse and dung and humanity, but it was still such a lively place that it took Kevin’s breath away. He drank it all in, only to come back to himself with a shock when someone asked shortly:

“Name and business?”

I may have spoke too soon though, as a guard (the guy who asked name and business), immediately seizes the message from him. Kevin, described as a "bardling" is ordered to the squires' quarters. The guard is scornful at the idea of a "mere bardling" being allowed to bother a count. Which, fair enough.

Kevin's not a complete idiot though. He does realize that trying to make a scene or posture will just humiliate him and get him tossed out. But alas, this pretty much shoots his fantasy of getting to hang out with nobility in the foot.

That said, I'm pretty sure that squires, historically, tend to be of noble or "gentle birth". It's kind of like ladies in waiting. We think of them as servants and peasants, but they're usually from pretty powerful families. It's an honor to serve royalty or knights after all, and that kind of thing doesn't go to some dude off the street.

So really, being put in the squires quarters would actually not be as big of an insult as the book seems to be telling us it is. And while it's possible that Kevin is just an unreliable viewpoint character who doesn't appreciate what he has, I feel like as a denizen of this world, particularly a bard in training, he would know that.

So poor Kevin is led to a room with nothing more than cots and clothes chests. There's no one here, so he's stuck waiting. Eventually, the squires - a crowd of boys in their late teens - show up. Kevin's uneasy about this, because his upbringing actually hasn't given him much opportunity to spend time with kids his own age.

Aw, no wonder he's a bit of a snot. He hasn't had anyone to lightly bully that shit out of him.

One squire, a blond boy, starts making conversation. He actually seems to be a little impressed at the idea that Kevin might be a Bard, but Kevin, truthfully, admits he's only an apprentice. The squires lose interest pretty quickly after that and start ignoring him.

And this is a nice bit here:

He pounced on the other boy and they wrestled, laughing. Watching them, totally excluded, Kevin ached with a loneliness more painful even than what he’d felt in the forest. As the horseplay broke off, he heard the squires argue over which of them was most skilled with sword or lance, or who would be the first to be knighted. A great surge of resentment swelled up within him. Listen to them boast! I bet there isn’t one of them who knows anything but weaponry and fighting, the empty-headed idiots.

And yeah, as an adult, I've got a lot more sympathy for Kevin than I did as a kid. Because here, he didn't really do anything wrong. He wasn't even a snot for once. He was just honest and then dismissed as unimportant, which provokes him to resentfulness and ego.

And that passes pretty quickly as he listens to the squires boast about the knights they served, and Kevin realizes they all have a lot more experience than he does and have gotten to share in mighty deeds themselves.

Kevin is summoned away by a servant (Arn, some kid who'd led him here, no idea if he'll be important later), to meet with the seneschel "D'Krikas". Kevin thinks it's an odd name, and soon we see why:

Within was a cozy room, hung with thick hangings of deep red velvet and furnished with a scroll-filled bookcase and a massive desk, behind which sat a truly bizarre figure. Although it sat upright and had the right number of arms and head, it most definitely was not human. Kevin stared at the shiny, chitinous green skin, set off by a glittering golden gorget, and the large, segmented eyes and gasped out:

“You’re an Arachnia!”

“The boy is a marvel of cleverness,” the insectoid being chittered. “If he has satisfied his curiosity?”

Kevin quickly apologizes for staring, but the dude seems to be a pretty good sport about it, acknowledging that Kevin's clearly never seen an Arachnia before. As he speaks, the Arachnia snacks on cubes in a very insect-way. Kevin's clearly a bit freaked out by it, which D'Krikas notices, but tries to stay diplomatic.

So anyway, D'Krikas lays out the arrangements for him. He's going to be housed and fed with the squires, and from dawn to dusk, he gets to copy the manuscript in the library. He isn't allowed to go to the count's private quarters, bother the knights, interfere with castle personnel, handle weapons, enter into the tithing ground...

There are a LOT of rules. Kevin's deciding that he really doesn't like it here and would prefer to finish the job as soon as possible. Which, fair. When the list of rules ends, he asks if there's a reason he can't continue copying after dark as it would save time.

And indeed, D'Krikas has a good reason: candles are expensive and no one wants to trust a kid with an open flame near manuscripts. Fair enough, again.

Unfortunately, that means it's too late in the day to start copying, and there are too many prohibitions for Kevin to feel comfortable exploring, so he's stuck returning to the squires' quarters.

Dinner is pretty miserable too: the squires are cold and unwelcoming. And later, the empty hall is very chilly. There isn't even a fireplace anywhere. Kevin tries to convince himself that a "true hero" doesn't mind discomfort or loneliness. Aw.

He ends up practicing his lute, alone, then decides to go to sleep. When the squires return, he hears whispers and muffled laughter and is sure they're laughing at him. The chapter ends here.