Читать онлайн «The Rose and the Thorn»

Michael J. Sullivan

The Rose and the Thorn

CHAPTER 1

THE BATTLE OF GATEWAY BRIDGE

Reuben should have run the moment the squires came out of the castle keep. He could have easily reached the sanctuary of the stable, limiting their harassment to throwing apples and insults, but their smiles confused him. They looked friendly-almost reasonable.

“Reuben! Hey, Reuben!”

Reuben? Not Muckraker? Not Troll-Boy?

The squires all had nicknames for him. None were flattering, but then he had names for them too-at least in his head. “The Song of Man,” one of Reuben’s favorite poems, mentioned age, disease, and hunger as the Three Cruelties of Humanity. Fat Horace was clearly hunger. Pasty-faced, pockmarked Willard was disease, and age was given to Dills, who at seventeen was the oldest.

Spotting Reuben, the trio had whirled his way like a small flock of predatory geese. Dills had a dented knight’s helmet in his hands, the visor slapping up and down as it swung with his arm. Willard carried combat padding. Horace was eating an apple-big surprise.

He could still make it to the stable ahead of them. Only Dills had any chance of winning in a footrace. Reuben shifted his weight but hesitated.

“This is my old trainer,” Dills said pleasantly, as if the last three years had never happened, as if he were a fox who’d forgotten what to do with a rabbit. “My father sent a whole new set for my trials. We’ve been having fun with this. ”

They closed in-too late to run now. They circled around, but still the smiles remained.

Dills held out the helmet, which caught and reflected the autumn sun, leather straps dangling. “Ever worn one? Try it. ”

Reuben stared at the helm, baffled. This is so odd. Why are they being nice?

“I don’t think he knows what to do with it,” Horace said.

“Go ahead. ” Dills pushed the helmet at him. “You join the castle guards soon, right?”

They’re talking to me? Since when?

Reuben didn’t answer right away.

Dills’s smile widened. “Thought so. You don’t get much combat practice, do you?”

“Who would spar with the stableboy?” Horace slurred while chewing.

“Exactly,” Dills said, and glanced up at the clear sky. “Beautiful fall day. Stupid to be inside. Thought you’d like to learn a few maneuvers. ”

Each of them wore wooden practice swords and Horace had an extra.

Is this real? Reuben studied their faces for signs of deceit. Dills appeared hurt by his lack of faith, and Willard rolled his eyes. “We thought you’d like to try on a knight’s helmet, seeing as how you never get to wear one. Thought you’d appreciate it. ”

Beyond them, Reuben saw Squire Prefect Ellison coming from the castle and taking a seat on the edge of the well to watch.

“It’s fun. We’ve all taken turns. ” Dills shoved the helm against Reuben’s chest again. “With the pads and helm you can’t get hurt. ”

Willard scowled. “Look, we’re trying to be nice here-don’t be a git. ”

As bizarre as it all was, Reuben didn’t see any malice in their eyes. They all smiled like he’d seen them look at one another-sloppy, unguarded grins. The whole thing made a kind of sense in Reuben’s head. After three years the novelty of bullying him had finally worn off. Being the only one their age who wasn’t noble had made him a natural target, but times had changed and everyone grew up. This was a peace offering, and given that Reuben hadn’t made a single friend since his arrival, he couldn’t afford to be picky.