Kassia kicked and punched and ducked as her opponent narrowed in on her. Sweat dripped from every pore of her body, even pores she wasn't aware could sweat. She blocked the left side of her face with the strength of two forearms just as her opponent swung a right-hook at her head. The wind was knocked out of her lungs as a fist plunged into her ribs with two consecutive hits to her now vulnerable right side. She grunted in frustration and re-centered, her opponent allowing her a moment to retrieve her breath.
"Straighten up." Jurgen instructed. "Leave that side open again and I'll throw you in the ring with Dieter." A strong second-year Bronze ranking warrior who loved fights he knew he could win and hated the fact that Kassia was allowed to train as a warrior, the first and only female to ever be allowed.
"Dee— is a— dirt mongerer— who lives a life— so low— it is— unfathomable to me." She grunted in between punches and blocks.
"He may very well be, Kassia, but he's a rank above you so mind your tongue." Jurgen stopped the necessary toe-dancing that was accompanied with hand-to-hand combat and planted his feet firmly on the ground. Kassia followed suit, lowering her sore knuckles. "The sun has seen enough of us today." He looked to the horizon where the sun was settling to rest for the night, the last of its rays being sucked from the land. He bent down and picked up two canteens, handing one to her and drinking deeply from his own. "I hear you've been hovering in the kitchens again."
Kassia dipped her chin and looked at the ground, hoping he wouldn't see the guilt swimming on her face.
"A planned meal course." He reprimanded. "You will not rise in ranks if you do not follow the rules. I'll make sure of that." He said, raising his eyebrows at her.
She should have bit her tongue to keep her from retorting. "Better report it to the Baron, then."
A wink of amusement flashed across his face as his lips curled up into a smile he couldn't contain. "He might make excuses for you but I assure you no one else will."
Oh, but they would. When it came to Kassia, exceptions were made. People moved aside for her, bent over backwards to please her. All she had to do was bat her long lashes and share the story of her dead parents and her path was made. That is what she'd done with the Baron and that is what she'd gradually done with Jurgen. Jurgen had been her mentor and her trainer for the better half of three years. When he first started training her, he'd been training in the Silver rank himself and since then had moved to Gold. He was a young general with a sharp jawline and soft green eyes and throughout their training together, Kassia had grown to call him her friend.
She drank from her canteen and poured a generous amount over her sweaty head, her braid of golden hair matting to her skull. Tossing her canteen in the dirt beside Jurgen and wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, she turned and headed toward the castle.
Her boots clicked on the marble floor in a dull symphony as she made her way to the staircase that led to the kitchens, leaving behind muddy footprints. The cacophony of clanging pots and pans, chefs and sous chefs yelling to keep order, and the sweet smell of roasted chicken and vegetables caressed her senses as she made her way down the stairs.
She slipped through the swinging doors to the kitchens and perched herself on her favorite, rarely used counter.
"Evening, Adalbert." She greeted a pudgy little chef with plump, rosy cheeks that was sauteing onions and broccoli.
"Oh, Kass!" He shot a glance up from his work and smiled at her. "Thought you'd gone and forgotten me, I did."
"I could never forget my favorite chef. Say, Adal, what do you have for me today?"
Adalbert tossed the contents of the pan into the air in coordinated circles. "Tell ya, Kass, you go and grab that purple jar right there next to ya." He pointed a stubby finger at the length of counter next to where she sat. She pulled the jar over to her and popped the lid. The warm sweet smell of chocolate wafted to her nose and she reached a hand in and pulled out a small chocolate biscuit still warm from the oven. She popped it into her mouth and chewed slowly, mmming at the way it melted on her tongue. "What d'ya think o' them?" He'd paused his sauteing to shoot curious glances at her as she chewed.
"I don't know if they're good enough to serve." She teased, licking her fingers.
"Oh?"
"You better let me take care of them for you."
The little chef chuckled and continued working on his vegetables, taking a glass bottle of green translucent liquid and pouring a generous amount into the pan. "I s'pose you better take the lot, then!"
"Adalbert!" Another cook yelled as he stomped toward the round chef, this one tall with a crook in his long back. "We needed these vegetables a fortnight ago, make haste!"
Kassia slipped soundlessly off the counter and began tip-toeing out the doors as Adalbert replied in a light voice, "You can't rush art."
The cook paused and Kassia felt eyes on the back of her head. She heard the cook growl in a low voice, "We have orders about feeding the warriors, Adalbert, especially the trainees."
Kassia slipped through the swinging doors and pounded up the stairs grasping the purple jar of treats while the cooks continued to bicker, Adalbert defending himself by saying, "The body needs sugars and the tastebuds need chocolate! You can't withhold necessities!"
She walked briskly down the long hall as she snickered to herself. Finding the main staircase, a large curved path made of polished stone ascending gently to the next floor, she climbed up and headed to the library where she knew she'd find her friend.
The library was the most desirable place in the castle. It had a dark ambiance with candles on every shelf, desk, and windowsill adding a warm glow to the room like balls of faerie light. The bookshelves traveled up to meet the high ceiling and curved around the edges of the walls so that it was a labyrinth of worn leather and wooden panels. In the opening in the heart of the library, desks were scattered along with cozy lapis blue couches. That's where Basia would be; curled up on a couch with her nose in a book.
For all the time she'd known her friend, she had always favored the library. Even throughout their youth, Kassia was used to being dragged down to the library. In fact, Kassia recalled the day the two first met: curiosity had taken over and Kassia had been wandering through the strange new castle when she'd stumbled upon the beautiful library and spotted Basia among the shelves. Since that day– Kassia nor Basia could not have been over ten years of age, then– they had been the best of friends.
Kassia meandered around the towering shelves and made her way to the library's heart. When she entered, as predicted, she spotted Basia in a cream colored satin gown elegantly draped over couch cushions.
She made her way to her and fell into a cushioned chair beside her, swinging her legs over the arm in an unlady-like fashion. "What appeases your hungry mind today?"
Basia turned the page of her thick book and furrowed her brows in concentration. "The language of Talla. Heard of it?" She questioned, sparing a glance at Kassia.
"No, enlighten me." Kassia prompted, tipping her exhausted head back to rest against the chair, her jar of goodies resting in her lap.
"It is a language from centuries and centuries past not used anymore, but very important for the creation of our language we use today." She closed the book and sat up, the wide-fashioned sleeves of her satin gown rolling down her arms as she straightened out her elbows. "It is very fascinating, but my 'hungry mind' is full now."
Kassia huffed an amused laugh at her friend. Her mind would never be full, she was too eager for knowledge. Kassia wondered if Basia's obsession with reading stemmed from the fact that it was one of the few things that women were given access to.
Basia's hair fell over her shoulders like umber silk as she adjusted her posture, her violet eyes falling on Kassia once more. She leaned closer to her and pulled the lid off the jar, plucking a biscuit from inside. "How was training today, my warrior?"
"If I ever learn something new I'll offer you an answer that's worth your while." Kassia sighed.
"I promise your work is far more efficacious than mine." Basia admitted with a downturn in her voice. She bit into the chocolate biscuit and chewed thoroughly.
Kassia cursed at herself for her careless comment. "Apologies, my Basia. I only mean that my father did well with his teachings in my youth. I'm ready to handle a sword if they would just let me."
Basia cast her a warm smile. "I know, Kass. But build your rank first, establish credible accomplishments, and remember me when you become famous." She winked.
"At least you were able to escape at a decent hour tonight."
"I did my chores quickly, the Baroness's maid sent me to rest." They did not discuss the maids by name. They only used titles in order to maintain authority and sever any lines of informality.
"I see," Kassia nodded.
"At the risk of asking too much,"
Kassia, noticing the significant tone, met Basia's eyes.
"Could you ask Jurgen again why I am not allowed to train?"
"I think going straight to the Baron would do us more good on that subject."
Basia bounced in her seat. "Oh, would you? That would be magnificent!"
Before Kassia had time to revoke her piece of sarcasm and refuse Basia, she was being swaddled into a warm hug by her friend who continued to express her gratitude.
Soon they parted ways and Kassia made her way to her sleeping quarters, impending gloom of begging her adopted father to make room for another female warrior battering her thoughts. There was no question of her competency for such a task and even less of a question concerning her opinion on Basia as a warrior. She'd love it if her friend could join her for training, but the issue rested at the Baron's feet. He had endured enough criticism by appointing Kassia to the ranking of a first-year warrior. She didn't want to cause such burdens again.
When she was shut up in her quarters– a tiny stone room with a hay-filled mattress and rickety desk, a step up from what other first years were given– she toed off her muddy boots, clawed off her heavy dress of chainmail that hung to her knees, stripped her gray leggings to the floor, and peeled her thick top from her torso. Her clothing was laced with so much sweat that she would be needing an outfit change for tomorrow which was not always guaranteed. But at the very least, she was given custom made tops: A material made up of sheepskin with built in rounded iron breast cups which acted more as a tool for deceiving men than anything else.
When she became a fully trained, fully qualified warrior, she'd turn in her chainmail dress and leather for real armor. But for now she thought of the Baron. What would she say to him? He had already proved his love to her in so many ways, he'd given her so much and now this? If it weren't for him she would have become a maid just like Basia. They were both orphans, afterall. They'd spent their teenage years chasing each other around the castle and boasting about their lives before they'd known each other. Not much of a boast for either of them, but they relished in the safety of each other.
Kassia often thought about her father, mainly how he brought her up with a sword in her hands instead of exposing her to farmland work. That had been what killed him. She'd been flinging around a sword since she was seven rather than helping him care for the land. All of that work didn't suit just one person and eventually his body gave out on him. But she always wondered why he raised her so differently from others. Most daughters dwelled in the kitchen most of their lives and spent their childhood learning how to care for other children. It was never an occupation that interested her and she sometimes wondered if her father had known that and wanted more for her.
Whether her wonderment was true or not, she admitted she was very blessed. She didn't need her birth parents to be alive for her to find happiness. They were dead and there was no point dwelling on it. She was content enough with the features she'd been given to keep the memory of them strong; her father's blue eyes and her mother's golden hair, although she never saw her mother to confirm their hair matched. Her mother died giving birth to her and the only time her father ever spoke about her was when he mentioned that Kassia's hair shone like honey like her mother's.
At least she had known her father. Both of Basia's parents had ceased shortly after her birth. She counted herself very lucky indeed. She could still recall that familiar smell of lavender and honey that always lingered in her former home. At one point in her life she thought it to be connected to her very being, as if it were her natural scent. However, when she was forcefully relocated to the orphanage within the castle that scent was left behind. She now associated it with her past, her former life.
Kassia fell into bed and realized how tired she was. Her limbs ached with soreness from training sun-up to sundown and it didn't take long for her to drift into a deep sleep.
YOU ARE READING
Of Blood And Royal Bones
FantasyA courageous young female warrior, Kassia, is sent on an assignment with a handsome spy, Ziam, to uncover the mysterious disappearance of a neighboring kingdom's missing prince. Kassia, eager to develop her skills as a warrior, never expected to fin...
