скачать книгу бесплатно
Squire
Tamora Pierce
Being the first is the last thing they expect of you. The adventure continues in book three of the New York Times bestselling series from the fantasy author who is a legend herself: TAMORA PIERCE. A powerful classic that is more timely than ever, the Protector of the Small series is about smashing the ceilings others place above you. WHEN THEY SAY YOU WILL FAIL… FAIL TO LISTEN. Keladry of Mindelan dreams of becoming squire to the legendary female knight Alanna the Lioness, a hero straight out of story. But Kel is chosen instead by Lord Raoul, a leader of men and a strategist – an unexpected honour that shocks her enemies. Kel must hone her skills and discover what it takes to be part of the royal guard. Part of a team. With this change comes another: a new romance, bringing with it the rush of first love and the unexpected challenges of balancing duty and love. All the while, Kel prepares for her biggest challenge: the infamous and terrifying Ordeal – the last challenge standing between her and knighthood. A powerful classic that is more timely than ever, the Protector of the Small series is about smashing the ceilings others place above you. In a landmark quartet published years before it’s time, Kel must prove herself twice as good as her male peers just to be thought equal. A series that touches on questions of courage, friendship, a humane perspective – told against a backdrop of a magical, action-packed fantasy adventure. ‘I take more comfort from and as great pleasure in Tamora Pierce’s Tortall novels as I do from Game of Thrones’Washington Post
SQUIRE
BOOK 3 OF THE PROTECTOR OF THE SMALL QUARTET
Tamora Pierce
Copyright (#u785e545e-4bca-569f-a13f-1e17f4b8b8a5)
HarperVoyager
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019
Copyright © Tamora Pierce 2001
Map copyright © Isidre Mones 2017
Jacket design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Tamora Pierce asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008304256
Ebook Edition © September 2019 ISBN: 9780008304263
Version: 2019-06-25
PRAISE FOR TAMORA PIERCE (#u785e545e-4bca-569f-a13f-1e17f4b8b8a5)
‘Tamora Pierce didn’t just blaze a trail. Her heroines cut a swathe through the fantasy world with wit, strength, and savvy. Pierce is the real lioness, and we’re all just running to keep pace.’
LEIGH BARDUGO, #1 New York Times bestselling author
‘Tamora Pierce creates epic worlds populated by girls and women of bravery, heart, and strength. Her work inspired a generation of writers and continues to inspire us.’
HOLLY BLACK, #1 New York Times bestselling author
‘Tamora Pierce’s books shaped me not only as a young writer but also as a young woman. Her complex, unforgettable heroines and vibrant, intricate worlds blazed a trail for young adult fantasy – and I get to write what I love today because of the path she forged throughout her career. She is a pillar, an icon, and an inspiration.’
SARAH J. MAAS, #1 New York Times bestselling author
‘I take more comfort from and as great pleasure in Tamora Pierce’s Tortall novels as I do from Game of Thrones.’
Washington Post
‘Tamora Pierce and her brilliant heroines didn’t just break down barriers; they smashed them with magical fire.’
KATHERINE ARDEN, author of The Bear and the Nightingale
Dedication (#u785e545e-4bca-569f-a13f-1e17f4b8b8a5)
To Ms. Gloria Barbizan and Miss Dorothy Olding—Strong businesswomen long before the women’s liberation
Contents
Cover (#u0deb1efd-8ea5-5a1b-aba7-cb64a1dd36e0)
Title Page (#ua0b35798-cd65-576d-bd95-dc21c91c2368)
Copyright
Praise for Tamora Pierce
Dedication
Map
Corus, the capital of Tortall; Summer, in the 17th year of the reign of Jonathan IV and Thayet, his Queen, 456 H.E. (Human Era)
Chapter 1: Knight-Master
Chapter 2: The King’s Own
Chapter 3: Centaurs
Chapter 4: Owlshollow
Chapter 5: The Griffin
Chapter 6: Lessons
Chapter 7: Old Friends
December, in the 17th year of the reign of Jonathan IV and Thayet, his Queen, 456
Chapter 8: The Price of a Maid
Chapter 9: Midwinter Luck
Spring, in the 18th year of the reign of Jonathan IV and Thayet, his Queen, 457
Chapter 10: The Great Progress Begins
Chapter 11: Cleon
Fall-Midwinter, in the 18th year of the reign of Jonathan IV and Thayet, his Queen, 457
Chapter 12: Tournament
Chapter 13: The Iron Door
Chapter 14: Friends
In the 19th and 20th years of the reign of Jonathan IV and Thayet, his Queen, Spring 458-Spring 459
Chapter 15: Tilt-Silly
Chapter 16: The North (#litres_trial_promo)
Summer, in the 20th year of the reign of Jonathan IV and Thayet, his Queen, 459
Chapter 17: The Kraken
Winter, in the 20th year of the reign of Jonathan IV and Thayet, his Queen, 459
Chapter 18: Ordeal
Cast of Characters
Glossary
Acknowledgements
Read on for a Preview of Lady Knight
Also by Tamora Pierce
About the Publisher
Map (#u785e545e-4bca-569f-a13f-1e17f4b8b8a5)
Corus, the capital of Tortall; Summer, in the 17th year of the reign of Jonathan IV and Thayet, his Queen, 456 H.E. (Human Era) (#u785e545e-4bca-569f-a13f-1e17f4b8b8a5)
CHAPTER 1 (#ulink_aa2a3f98-6248-5405-86a2-ce62700dd1e2)
KNIGHT-MASTER (#ulink_aa2a3f98-6248-5405-86a2-ce62700dd1e2)
Despite the overflow of humanity present for the congress at the royal palace, the hall where Keladry of Mindelan walked was deserted. There were no servants to be seen. No echo of the footsteps, laughter, or talk that filled the sprawling residence sounded here, only Kel’s steps and the click of her dog’s claws on the stone floor.
They made an interesting pair. The fourteen-year-old girl was big for her age, five feet nine inches tall, and dressed informally in breeches and shirt. Both were a dark green that emphasized the same colour in her green-hazel eyes. Her dark boots were comfortable, not fashionable. On her belt hung a pouch and a black-hilted dagger in a plain black sheath. Her brown hair was cut to earlobe length. It framed a tanned face dusted with freckles across a delicate nose. Her mouth was full and decided.
The dog, known as Jump, was barrel-chested, with slightly bowed forelegs. His small, triangular eyes were set deep in a head shaped like a heavy chisel. He was mostly white, but black splotches covered the end of his nose, his lone whole ear, and his rump; his tail plainly had been broken twice. He looked like a battered foot soldier to Kel’s young squire, and he had proved his combat skills often.
At the end of the hall stood a pair of wooden doors carved with a sun, the symbol of Mithros, god of law and war. They were ancient, the surfaces around the sun curved deep after centuries of polishing. Their handles were crude iron, as coarse as the fittings on a barn door.
Kel stopped. Of the pages who had just passed the great examinations to become squires, she was the only one who had not come here before. Pages never came to this hall. Legend held that pages who visited the Chapel of the Ordeal never became squires: they were disgraced or killed. But once they were squires, the temptation to see the place where they would be tested on their fitness for knighthood was irresistible.
Kel reached for the handle, and opened one door just enough to admit her and Jump. There were benches placed on either side of the room from the door to the altar. Kel slid onto one, glad to give her wobbly knees a rest. Jump sat in the aisle beside her.
After her heart calmed, Kel inspected her surroundings. This chapel, focus of so many longings, was plain. The floor was grey stone flags; the benches were polished wood without ornament. Windows set high in the walls on either side were as stark as the room itself.
Ahead was the altar. Here, at least, was decoration: gold candlesticks and an altar cloth that looked like gold chain mail. The sun disc on the wall behind it was also gold. Against the grey stone, the dark benches, and the wrought-iron cressets on the walls, the gold looked tawdry.
The iron door to the right of the sun disc drew Kel’s eyes. There was the Chamber of the Ordeal. Generations of squires had entered it to experience something. None told what they saw; they were forbidden to speak of it. Whatever it was, it usually let squires return to the chapel to be knighted.
Some who entered the Chamber failed. A year-mate of Kel’s brother Anders had died three weeks after his Ordeal without ever speaking. Two years after that a squire from Fief Yanholm left the Chamber, refused his shield, and fled, never to be seen again. At Midwinter in 453, months before the Immortals War broke out, a squire went mad there. Five months later he escaped his family and drowned himself.
‘The Chamber is like a cutter of gemstones,’ Anders had told Kel once. ‘It looks for your flaws and hammers them, till you crack open. And that’s all I – or anyone – will say about it.’
The iron door seemed almost separate from the wall, more real than its surroundings. Kel got to her feet, hesitated, then went to it. Standing before the door, she felt a cold draught.
Kel wet suddenly dry lips with her tongue. Jump whined. ‘I know what I’m doing,’ she told her dog without conviction, and set her palm on the door.
She sat at a desk, stacks of parchment on either side. Her hands sharpened a goose quill with a penknife. Splotches of ink stained her fingers. Even her sleeves were spotted with ink.
‘There you are, squire.’
Kel looked up. Before her stood Sir Gareth the Younger, King Jonathan’s friend and adviser. Like Kel’s, his hands and sleeves were ink-stained. ‘I need you to find these.’ He passed a slate to Kel, who took it, her throat tight with misery. ‘Before you finish up today, please. They should be in section eighty-eight.’ He pointed to the far end of the room. She saw shelves, all stretching from floor to ceiling, all stuffed with books, scrolls, and documents.
She looked at her tunic. She wore the badge of Fief Naxen, Sir Gareth’s home, with the white ring around it that indicated she served the heir to the fief. Her knight-master was a desk knight, not a warrior.
Work is work, she thought, trying not to cry. She still had her duty to Sir Gareth, even if it meant grubbing through papers. She thrust herself away from her desk—
—and tottered on the chapel’s flagstones. Her hands were numb with cold, her palms bright red where they had touched the Chamber door.
Kel scowled at the iron door. ‘I’ll do my duty,’ she told the thing, shivering.
Jump whined again. He peered up at her, his tail awag in consolation.
‘I’m all right,’ Kel reassured him, but she checked her hands for inkspots. The Chamber had made her live the thing she feared most just now, when no field knight had asked for her service. What if the Chamber knew? What if she was to spend the next four years copying out dry passages from drier records? Would she leave? Would paperwork do what other pages’ hostility had not – drive her back to Mindelan?
Squires were supposed to serve and obey, no matter what. Still, the gap between combat with monsters and research in ancient files was unimaginable. Surely someone would realize Keladry of Mindelan was good for more than scribe work!
