Common (The Lora Fletcher Chronicles Book 1) Read online

Prince Regan rolled his eyes. Or at least she thought he did, as they were obscured again by his hair. He grabbed her and tugged her toward the dining hall. Once they were inside, he quickly deposited her at a table next to a couple of girls and rushed off to join his friends. A blonde girl, whom she could only assume was Princess Sylvane, opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again when Lord Everett stood up from the table where he was sitting.

  “Let us bow our heads and give thanks to the gods,” he said quietly once everyone was seated. A tardy student rushed in and Lord Everett’s eyes narrowed. “Lucas of Green Meadows,” he said, his voice even. “This is your third tardy this month. In addition to helping the kitchen staff with clean-up tonight, you will also help set up the practice yard for the swordsplayers every morning for a sevenday.” When Lucas nodded glumly, Lord Everett continued, “Let us give thanks.” He bowed his head in prayer.

  Lorana quickly bowed her head so as not to attract notice. Her eyes flitted back and forth between Lucas and Lord Everett. She was thankful she wasn’t washing dishes, but she hadn’t decided if she was thankful for anything else. She was too out of her element to even consider her current situation.

  Lord Everett raised his head and looked around the room. He seemed satisfied. “You may eat,” he said. He sat down, turned to his left, and began a discussion with the man next to him.

  “New girl,” the blonde said as she served herself what appeared to be a meat pie. “Who are you? What program are you in?” She spooned some potatoes on her plate. “Wielder? Swordsplayer?” The brown haired girl on her left and the girl with curly black hair on her right leaned in to hear as they piled food on their plates.

  “I’m Lorana of Haven Dale,” she replied as she reached for a meat pie. The lie of her name was getting easier every time she said it. “I’m called Lora though.” She paused, unsure how to describe her role at the Academy. “I came here as a wielder. I, um, keep setting things on fire.”

  “You’ll be with me then,” the girl with the curly black hair said with a smile. “I’m Genea—“

  “Genea is my cousin,” the blonde girl interrupted. “It’s too bad you won’t be in swordsplay with Catty and me. I’m Sylvane.”

  “Oh, but I will!” Lora replied, her mouth full of meat pie. She could not believe she was talking to the princess! “They say I’m a swordwielder. I found out when I got here. The armorer handed me a dagger and I took it like it was nothing. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to be able to do that.”

  Sylvane dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “What hole did you crawl out of that you didn’t know what a swordwielder was? Probably the same hole where it’s acceptable to talk with your mouth full and spatter food all over everyone?” She rolled her eyes, cut a small piece of pie, and daintily placed it in her mouth with her fork.

  Lora’s cheeks burned. She hadn’t bothered with her fork, which seemed to be made of some unusual material. It made sense, considering only about half of the people in the dining hall would be able to use a steel one. “I’m only distantly related to Lord Allistair,” she said in a small voice. “Where I’m from, we don’t…” She looked down at her plate.

  “I don’t see why everyone thinks country manners are so charming,” Sylvane added.

  Catty, the brown haired girl on the princess’s left, frowned. “Leave her alone, Sylvane. She’s new, and I bet she’s tired.”

  “Fatigue doesn’t excuse ignorance or ill manners,” Sylvane said. She stared at Catty for a moment and shook her head. Genea sat by looking uncomfortable.

  “I’m sorry if I offended you, your highness,” Lora said as she stared at her plate. She didn’t touch any of her food after that and was glad when a bell rang signaling the end of dinner.

  Sylvane and Genea left quickly, but Catty lingered. “The princess puts on a lot of airs, but she’s mostly alright. I was her prime target before now. I’m sorry you’ve become that.” She held out her hand and shook Lora’s. “I’m Catherine of Arbor Cove. My father’s barony is small, unimportant, and remote. At least that’s what Sylvane tells me. But then again, she’s never been to my home.” She winked. “Please call me Catty.”

  “Thank you.” Lora stood up and smiled at the girl who would be her friend.

  Catty smiled back. “Come on,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve forgotten where the dorms are by now. I’ll help you learn your way around. Did Bobby give you the tour?” When Lora nodded, Catty said, “Good. He’s the best.”

  Lora followed Catty to the swordplayer’s dormitory. She was glad to see her things were next to Catty’s. There was a large stack of books on her bed with a folded sheet of parchment on top. She picked it up and it appeared to be her schedule.

  Catty peered over Lora’s shoulder and whistled. “That’s a rough schedule,” she said. “I take back anything I ever prayed about wanting to be a swordwielder. If that’s what it takes to be one, count me out!” She stopped laughing when she saw Lora’s stricken expression. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. Tired, but fine. Dain and Louis can help you. Well, more Dain than Louis. Louis’ wielding ability is so small that he doesn’t take classes in that anymore. Dain’s nice.” She leaned in and whispered, “And handsome.”

  Lora’s schedule included history, mathematics, literature, diplomacy, theory of war, weapons, horsemanship, unarmed combat, theory of wielding, and independent study wielding. “Independent study?” she wondered aloud.

  “It’s probably trying to figure out what your aptitudes are and then figuring out how strong you are. Then it’s probably fine tuning your best skills,” Catty put in with a shrug.

  “What does aptitude mean?” Lora asked. Her mouth was turned down in a frown. Her previous schooling had only been a few mornings a sevenday. This schedule had her busy from sunup to sundown and sometimes after, depending on the day, six days a sevenday.

  Catty gave Lora an incredulous look. “Your strengths. What you’re good at.” She paused. “Did you say you lived in the keep with your cousin or were you somewhere else because—“

  “Let’s see your things, Lora,” Sylvane said as she strode over. “I’m curious to see what the latest fashions from Haven Dale are.” She pushed Lora out of the way and opened her trunk. She pulled out one of her everyday dresses and began shrieking with laughter. “Ready-made!”

  Lora blushed bright red. She wasn’t sure why it was such a big deal. The ready-made things were far nicer than her usual clothes, but the princess’s reaction told her that the garments were something to be ashamed of. She felt terrible because Lord Allistair and Lady Tiana had been so generous.

  Sylvane tossed the offending dress onto Lora’s bed and continued laughing as she took the remaining items out of the trunk. “Only four gowns in here? How tragic.” She walked over to Lora and looked her right in the eyes. “And your hair. Such an ugly brown. It matches your eyes.” She grabbed Lora’s hand and held it up. “And your nails!” She laughed some more and dropped Lora’s hand. “Are you sure you’re related to the Haven Dale family? I can’t imagine why Tiana would claim you as a relation. I sure wouldn’t!” She shook her head and chuckled all the way to her bed.

  Hanging her head in shame, Lora began to gently fold her things and place them back in the trunk. She got out her nightclothes and quickly put them on. Mistress Tabitha came in and extinguished the lamps, and Lora lay down to sleep. Only once it was dark and the sounds of quiet, even breathing were the only audible sounds did Lora let the tears fall.

  CHAPTER 5

  The day started off terribly. In literature, Mistress Flora had Lora read aloud from the book of poetry her age group had been studying. By the time she finished struggling through the poem, the entire room was laughing, with the exception of Mistress Flora, who looked stricken. Lora sat down and stared at her desk for the remainder of the hour. After class, Mistress Flora assigned her an easier book. When Lora looked up from the book of fairy tales, her teacher managed a small smile.

  “Interpret them beyond the
words on the page,” she said. “It’s as good as any place to start. I assume you’ve only had the basic schooling given to the commoners in your village?” When Lora nodded, Mistress Flora shook her head. “That’s a shame. You will have to work harder in all of your classes than the others if you want to keep up. You can do it though. In spite of your lack of skill, you never gave up with that poem. Remember that.” She patted her on the cheek and shooed her off to her next class.

  Lora’s next class was history. Fortunately, Mistress Diane, her teacher, did not have her read aloud. It was hard enough to follow along with the lecture. History was a neglected subject for commoners, so most of what was discussed was new to her. Commoners were usually just sent off to war without any explanation as to why their lords were sending them. They had vague knowledge as to who the king was and who was to follow him to the throne, but never they why’s or how’s. Lora thought it might be interesting… once she could figure out the more difficult words in the text.

  Mathematics was marginally better. Lora had a decent grasp of arithmetic because she managed her father’s bookkeeping. It seemed many of the nobles had as rudimentary a knowledge of sums as she did, especially Princess Sylvane. This brought Lora a perverse kind of happiness, for which she immediately felt ashamed. No matter what she did to her, Lora knew she shouldn’t have any disrespect toward the princess. That was the sort of thing that brought you the sign against evil from the villagers she grew up with. Master Charles seemed a decent sort though. He was young and spoke with a lisp, but no one seemed to mind.

  Theory of war was taught by Lord Cedric of Horn Peak in a huge lecture hall. He was the uncle of the current lord of Horn Peak, and evidently had a brilliant mind for strategy. He was singlehandedly responsible for keeping the Korlisseans out of Ydris and was always brainstorming ways to bring the Ydrisans on the offensive and get rid of the Shaadi threat once and for all… Whatever that meant.

  Lord Cedric was charismatic, and Lora liked the fact that he did not believe in textbooks. He spoke from experience and told better stories of history than Mistress Diane did. She felt like the two classes would complement each other—at least she hoped they would. She needed all the help she could get! The worst thing about the class was the sheer amount of people in it. It was intimidating.

  Master Franklin taught diplomacy. It was good thing it was just before lunch when everyone’s empty stomachs kept them awake, because he was dull as unsweetened porridge. His voice droned on and on. He also made references to historical events and theory of war, but his presentation made the connections between the three very vague and uncertain. He had two texts full of required readings. It was instantly Lora’s least favorite class of the day.

  Her morning classes repeated daily, so she had a certain idea of what to expect each morning. It was her afternoon and evening classes that worried her. She had never done anything like any of them and just knew she’d be an even bigger failure there than she was with her book learning. She was pondering this as she wandered into the dining hall.

  “Are you Lorana?” a tall boy asked her. When she nodded, he smiled. “I’m Dain. I’m the other swordwielder. I’m glad to meet you. It’ll be nice to commiserate with someone else in my situation. Everyone in my age group whines about their classes, but they have no idea.” He brushed his curly auburn hair back with his fingers. “It’s too bad you’re so young. What are you, thirteen?”

  Lora knew her mouth was hanging open, but she didn’t care. Dain was nice, handsome, and he was talking to her. He mustn’t have heard about her morning then. “Twelve,” she said shyly.

  He shook his head. “Brutal,” he sighed. “I was thirteen when I came. I never realized I’d been wielding. I came to be trained in swordsplay. No one could get any sword thrusts past me even though it was obvious I was not very good at it. Turns out, I was manipulating the air like a shield.” He shrugged. “It’s too bad, well, not really bad for me, but I’ll be going off on assignment next year. I’ll be out of the books and into the real world. You’ll be alone. It’s not so bad. Maybe they’ll get another swordwielder before you leave. Louis takes theory, but his wielding ability is weak, so he doesn’t specialize or practice really.” He took a deep breath. “I talk a lot.”

  “That’s alright,” Lora said. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to. Haven Dale is small, and I feel very out of place here.” And you don’t know the half of it, she finished silently.

  Dain nodded. “Everyone feels out of place at first,” he agreed. “Come on, you can sit with my group and get to know some more people.” He led her into the dining hall toward a noisy table across the room from where Catty, Genea, and Sylvane were sitting.

  “You survived your first morning, I see,” a familiar face said in between bites of stew. Prince Regan smiled and actually seemed genuinely happy to see her again. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t made the connection as to who he was. He seemed a little more down to earth than his sister, so she hoped he wasn’t too offended by any slight she might have given him.

  She smiled back as she took her seat next to Dain. “Barely,” she replied. “I don’t read as well as most people, I’m a poor historian, and I might fall asleep in diplomacy in spite of being so hungry. Mathematics is fine, and I think Lord Cedric is just amazing. So it could’ve been worse.”

  Regan and Dain nodded, and Regan said, “Lord Cedric is the best teacher here. Even if strategy isn’t their thing, everyone loves his class.”

  “So what do you wield?” Dain asked. “Water? Earth? Healing?”

  “Let her answer, Dain!” Regan teased the older boy.

  “Fire,” Lora giggled. “I kept setting our house and the village on fire. My father and Lord Allistair agreed I should come. If nothing else, to learn some control so I didn’t burn everything to the ground.”

  “Probably a good idea,” Regan told her. He stuck his tongue at out at someone behind her. “Why is my sister glaring daggers at you?”

  Lora looked down at her hands. “My manners are not… They’re not to her liking. My upbringing was not as formal as most.”

  Dain rolled his eyes. “Her highness is always preoccupied with status, and she is acutely aware that no one, except Regan here, outranks her. She likes to rub it in. If she’s been unkind to you, don’t take it to heart. She doesn’t like being out of the spotlight, so she torments anyone who’s new and anyone who might take away her attention for any other reason.”

  “Like a swordwielder,” Regan put in when Lora’s gaze remained fixed on her hands. “So buck up. She’s jealous. Of you.” He speared a potato wedge with his fork and put the whole thing in his mouth. “Well, you’d better eat up. You’ll have to change before the afternoon classes begin. Can’t learn to swing a sword very well in a dress.”

  CHAPTER 6

  There were three sets of tunics and pants on Lora’s bed when she hurried there after eating. She placed two of them in her trunk and quickly donned the third set. They were all a dull brown, but she figured that was to hide dirt and sweat. And blood.

  Weapons was Lora’s first class of the afternoon. Lords Leonard, Nestor, and Sebastian were her instructors. She thought they seemed stern, but she figured they’d have to be since they were teaching students to defend their lives. And to kill.

  Lord Leonard taught bladed weapons, including the sword, axe, spear, and knife. Lord Nestor taught blunt weapons, including the mace, morning star, flail, and quarterstaff. Lord Sebastian taught projectile weapons, including the bow, crossbow, throwing blades, and atlatl. Lora had a short one-on-one with each of them to assess her strengths and weaknesses, and then she was sent to the practice yard to learn with her age group. Lord Nestor’s assistant, Master Oliver, was discussing the finer points of a quarterstaff.

  Lora was vaguely familiar with the quarterstaff. It was a commoner’s weapon, but Master Oliver explained that you needed to be able to use whatever was on hand to defend yourself and press on the offensive. Many infantry carr
ied quarterstaffs and if a swordsplayer was able to disarm someone carrying one, he or she should be able to use it if needed. Being a girl, Lora hadn’t been trained to use one in her village, but she knew how to hold one properly. And how to quickly duck out of the way of an inexperienced user. There was no sparring learned, as this was the first day they were using this weapon. Lord Nestor and Master Oliver drilled them on proper hand placement and stances until Lora felt like her arms were going to fall off.

  Her weapons class went surprisingly fast, and before she knew it, Lora was walking to unarmed combat with the boy who had practiced next to her. He had nearly whacked her in the head several times when he lost his grip on his quarterstaff. He seemed a decent sort though. His name was Peter.

  The unarmed combat instructor was called Master Karl. He was a tall lean man who appeared to be made entirely of muscle. He had sharp angular features and lanky brown hair, similar to Lora’s own. His severe features made him look mean and angry, but he had a light, pleasant voice and was quick to smile and encourage.

  Master Karl separated the girls and boys for the first half of the lesson. He explained to Lora that because women will never have the upper body strength of men, they need to be taught differently. Breaking a hold or throwing a punch with the same force a man would requires different techniques and if they learned both or the opposite technique right away, it would cause confusion. Other techniques were saved for more advanced lessons. Lora was paired with Catty for the first half of class and Peter for the second. She was drenched in sweat by the end.

  Catty laughed at Lora and dragged her to horsemanship. Lord Ian explained that she would be learning basic riding techniques, advanced riding, jousting, and care and basic first aid for her horse. She was disappointed to be paired up with a very slow, older horse, but did not feel so badly when she realized all of her classmates had similar mounts. Lora quickly learned that like in mathematics, not all of her peers had the same experience with riding. She was pleased to be in the middle of the pack and to not draw any more attention to herself.