Jemryn knocked on the door of his parents’ house. The door opened and his mother’s maid answered the door. ‘It’s one o’ them dragin knights, your grace’ she called and winked at Jemryn.
‘Announce him then, if you would’ came his mother’s voice.
‘Page Jemryn Farrenreed to see you, your grace’ said the maid as she opened the door wide to let him in.
‘Jemryn!’ squeaked his mother ‘ Have they sent you away already? Have you eaten? What are you doing here?’
‘No, yes, and I have a message, Mother, in that order. The Preceptor asked if you would call on him, at your leisure, to give him some advice.’ replied Jemryn.
His mother looked baffled. ‘Why would the Preceptor want my advice?’
‘He didn’t tell me that, but I think it’s to do with the lady candidates’ said Jemryn. ‘They were talking to him in the refectory with the door shut before breakfast and he had a very old piece of parchment in his hand when I went in. I know that men can’t go into the ladies barracks. He couldn’t even touch the latch last night.’
‘If he thinks I’m going into some dark smelly barracks to solve a problem for him, then he can think again.’ Duchess Farrenreed scowled at the thought.
‘Is that the answer I should take back to him, mother?’ asked Jemryn.
His mother looked shocked. ‘Certainly not. Please tell him I will call on him early this afternoon.’
‘Yes mother. I shall tell him now’ Jemryn bowed and left.
The Preceptor was still writing when Jemryn got back to the refectory.
‘And your mother’s response was?’ asked the Preceptor without looking up.
‘How did you know it was me?’ said Jemryn, amazed that the Preceptor could tell it was him without looking.
‘Not many people come in here, boy, unless bidden, you came through the rear door, not the door from the Southern Hall and your footsteps were light and quick suggesting a child.’ The Preceptor turned to him ‘and the answer to my question?’
‘My mother will call on you in the early afternoon today, sir’
The Preceptor looked at him. ‘Did you give her any clues as to the matter at hand?’
Jemryn blushed. ‘I told her I thought it was to do with the ladies. The door was shut this morning and when I came in, you were talking to them and you had a very old piece of parchment in your hand that probably came from their barracks. And I said that you couldn’t enter their barracks’
The Preceptor grinned appreciatively ‘Good observation and astute reasoning, boy. Say nought of this to anyone else. The enchantment on the doors is known to any who has studied the history of the palace, but the old parchment could perhaps be a problem should it become known. Do tell me if anything else occurs to that astute mind of yours. Now, I seem to have more missives for you. One for the king – give it to him and him alone. One for the steward but give it to any of his staff and one for the armourer.’
Jemryn took the folded, sealed sheets and turned to go before turning back to the Preceptor.
‘Go-on Jemryn. Tell me! I did ask.’ The Preceptor looked amused.
‘Dragons fly, don’t they?’ Jemryn asked cautiously. ‘If they come back, how will you get them to land so that you can fight them? The outer wall has old ballistae but they are all broken and bows wouldn’t be much use against scales.’
The Preceptor thought for a moment. ‘Dragon wings aren’t scaled and are quite thin. Enough arrows will force them down. To add to that, many dragons don’t breathe fire unless they are on the ground although I’m told that some can. Your observation of the state of the ballistae is well made. Unfortunately, a program of refurbishment might cause some alarm amongst the local. They’ll think that a dragon attack is imminent, an invasion is nigh or that there’s a revolt on its way.’
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Jemryn’s face fell. ‘But if there is a dragon attack, the ballistae will be needed.’
The Preceptor smiled. ‘They are too big and slow. By the time the soldiers have got it aimed, the dragon has moved.’
Jemryn thought for a moment. ‘What about a polybolos? They are small and fast but more powerful than a bow.’
The Preceptor looked stunned ‘A what?’
‘It’s in one of my tactics and warfare books. My Father got it from a trader who said it came from Areetan. It’s like a small ballista but it can fire in any direction and nearly as quickly as an archer. In the book, it was small enough to be mounted in a cart and fired. You could keep them in the guard towers and bring them out when the dragons came. No-one needs know. Well, the guards would, but they’d need to practice anyway.’
The Preceptor looked at Jemryn. ‘Lad I’d like to borrow that book. I take it that it’s in Castle Farrenreed? What’s it called?’
‘Yes, Si … Preceptor. It’s called “Siege, the theory of defence” and it’s in my father’s library. I can get it next time I go home.’
The Preceptor laughed. ‘I think I need it sooner than that. I will speak to your mother. There will be messengers who can bring it within a few weeks. Now please deliver those letters, unless you have any further thunderbolts you care to fling at me.’
‘Yes Preceptor, I mean no Preceptor.’ A bit flustered, Jemryn gathered the letters and hurried back towards the door.
As he went down the corridor, he wondered where he ought to go first. The steward could be anywhere so Jemryn decided to leave him till last. The armourer’s workshop was in the Iron Master’s square and furthest away, but he was almost certain that the armourer would be there so Jemryn crossed the inner courtyard heading for the main gate. The guards watched him as he passed through the barbican but said nothing.
Within a few minutes Jemryn had made it to the baking hot noisy hell that was the armoury. ‘Yes boy?’ bellowed a huge bear of a man in a leather apron. ‘best be here on business. This is no place for lollygagging.’
Jemryn swallowed, more than a little intimidated. ‘I’ve a message from the Preceptor to the armourer, sir.’
‘That would be me’ said the bear. ‘Let’s hear it.’ Wordlessly Jemryn passed over the folded sheet destined for the armourer who turned it over in his hand. ‘Old goat likes to twit me. Can you read boy?’
‘Yes sir’. replied Jemryn. The armourer passed the letter back.
‘Tell me what it says! Never did get the hang of letters.’
Jemryn broke the seal and opened the letter. Inside was a set of sketches of weapons with tallies beside them. As soon as he looked down, his eyes suddenly started itching and watering.
‘Dragon using your eyes, boy? Just keep them shut a minute, it’ll pass.’ The armourer sounded sympathetic. Jemryn did as he was bid and within a minute his eyes had stopped itching.
‘Did a dragon really use my eyes?’ Jemryn wanted to know.
The armourer shrugged. ‘Dunno know, boy. Seen it a few times, heard of it many times and folks here allus called it that. Might be true, might be a slur on dragons.’
Jemryn passed the letter back. ‘There’s just pictures inside with tallies next to them sir’
The armourer looked at the sheet. ‘Be it true that four lasses signed up, boy?’ Jemryn nodded.
‘Cat got your tongue boy? No matter. Now I’m thinking that there’s eleven halberds marked here but they might be heavy for a lass. When you get back, tell your Preceptor, I’ll make him seven and we’ll get our heads together over an ale and see what might suit them better.’
‘Yes sir.’ Jemryn turned back towards the gate but the armourer stopped him. ‘If you have trouble getting back through the gate, come back here and I’ll set them wall props straight.’
‘Wall props?’ said Jemryn thoroughly puzzled.
‘Ah boy! Without them there guards pushing their shoulders against the walls all day, castle would fall over. Well known fact that. Off you go.’ As Jemryn left, the armourer followed him to the door of the workshop and scowled at the guards. The corporal of the squad saw him watching and just waved Jemryn through.
Jemryn, relieved to be back inside the gates, trotted across the square to the main door to the northern hall and promptly had his way blocked by two burly guards. ‘Can’t just skip through here boy. Got to be recognised or have papers.’
Jemryn swallowed nervously. ‘I’m carrying letters from the Preceptor to the king and the steward, sir.’
The older of the two guards looked at him cautiously. ‘You the duke of Farrenreed’s boy what was made a dragon guard page?’
‘Yes sir’ Jemryn replied, still nervous.
‘Well, I never heard of such a thing before. No matter. The king is in the solar and the steward said he was heading to the undercroft to count barrels. Check the contents more like. He’ll be there a while. You know the undercroft?’ Jemryn nodded, revising his plans to find the steward last, and turned back towards the entrance to the Southern Hall. The quickest route was down through the kitchens.
As he crossed the yard, a couple of the older boys who hadn’t made it to the head of the line spotted him and moved to intercept him, cornering him before he could reach the relative safety of the hallway. ‘What you got there, page boy?’ sneered the oldest. ‘Think you can sneak to the front and then parade around like you own the place, do you boy?’
‘Stay calm, help is coming.’ A rainbow thought echoed in his head.