Read Online TRAVELLER (Book 1 in the Brass Pendant Trilogy) by Amanda May Bell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Amanda May Bell
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father’s arm lightly before they walked together through the open doors.
Cheers rose from the crowded hall and I stepped into the open doorway and watched my parents as they raised their hands in regal salutes. The hall was bathed in the soft light from many tiny metal cylinders. The tiny, pale yellow glows were concentrated just above these cylinders and it was like hundreds of tiny stars shone among the greenery. Giant banners waved slightly in the cool night breeze which flowed through the open Palace doors. Guards stood watchfully around the edges of the palatial room, and more guards patrolled high above me on catwalks built within and around the heavy rafters. The Hall was filled with people and the atmosphere was magical, and I found myself glancing guiltily at the arising Champions who waited to one side of the thrones. This was their night. It was the culmination of seven turns of hard training and physical challenge, and it wasn’t their fault that I’d rather be anywhere else on the time circle, but here.
When my parents were seated, I walked up the ramp onto the platform at the end of the Hall. The crowd cheered and I stood self-consciously beside the shields while my father nodded to the first of the champions. These young men and women were from the Community, not from the Royal House. They were the sons or daughters of herders, or crystal shapers, or bakers, or scholars, or anyone who didn’t reside or work in the Palace. They would have been identified at an early age as having the physical and mental requirements to be champion fighters with weapons, and without, and on horseback, or on the ground. Their intensive training would have commenced when they were fourteen turns of a marker and many gruelling hours would have followed. Some never made it to the end. Injuries in Tournament training could be fatal, such was the intensity of their weapons exercises and final challenges. These young men and women were the best of the best, and at twenty one turns of a marker they would now, officially, become Champions. They would fight against the Denborites in organised Tournaments for the next five years at least. After this, if they were still alive, they’d be assigned to a position as either a Palace or a travelling guard. Palace guards were the retired Champions who were wed to questers.
My father and mother stood up and a hush came over the crowd. The King took a jewel encrusted silver sword from a waiting guard and he held it by his side. The first of the Champions knelt before him.
“Arise Jared and join the Tournament,” my father said clearly, and he touched the flat side of the sword blade to each shoulder of the kneeling young man. Jared stood up and the crowd murmured its respectful approval. The King passed my mother the sword and Jared walked towards me where I handed him a shiny, Aldirite Tournament shield. He nodded and I looked into bright, blue green eyes. He stood to the side and we both waited for the next Champion to arise. This time, it was my mother who touched the sword to a young man’s shoulders, and she spoke to him regally just as my father had done.
And so the ceremony continued until the pile of shields beside me was down to one.
“Arise Thea, and join the Tournament,” said my mother, and soon after, a young woman took the very last shield from my hand.
This was when the ceremony became no longer a ceremony but a celebration, and music of the kind that was very different from the music on Josh’s cartridge began playing. The music was merry and it was a signal that the time to celebrate had officially begun. The noise level in the Great Hall rose as voices almost drowned out the sounds made by the musical players. Vendors roamed amongst the people and they sold tiny bites of salted food, and tankards of fermented ale. Dancing had begun already around the centre of the hall and the Champions standing to the side of me jumped down from the raised area and
Cheers rose from the crowded hall and I stepped into the open doorway and watched my parents as they raised their hands in regal salutes. The hall was bathed in the soft light from many tiny metal cylinders. The tiny, pale yellow glows were concentrated just above these cylinders and it was like hundreds of tiny stars shone among the greenery. Giant banners waved slightly in the cool night breeze which flowed through the open Palace doors. Guards stood watchfully around the edges of the palatial room, and more guards patrolled high above me on catwalks built within and around the heavy rafters. The Hall was filled with people and the atmosphere was magical, and I found myself glancing guiltily at the arising Champions who waited to one side of the thrones. This was their night. It was the culmination of seven turns of hard training and physical challenge, and it wasn’t their fault that I’d rather be anywhere else on the time circle, but here.
When my parents were seated, I walked up the ramp onto the platform at the end of the Hall. The crowd cheered and I stood self-consciously beside the shields while my father nodded to the first of the champions. These young men and women were from the Community, not from the Royal House. They were the sons or daughters of herders, or crystal shapers, or bakers, or scholars, or anyone who didn’t reside or work in the Palace. They would have been identified at an early age as having the physical and mental requirements to be champion fighters with weapons, and without, and on horseback, or on the ground. Their intensive training would have commenced when they were fourteen turns of a marker and many gruelling hours would have followed. Some never made it to the end. Injuries in Tournament training could be fatal, such was the intensity of their weapons exercises and final challenges. These young men and women were the best of the best, and at twenty one turns of a marker they would now, officially, become Champions. They would fight against the Denborites in organised Tournaments for the next five years at least. After this, if they were still alive, they’d be assigned to a position as either a Palace or a travelling guard. Palace guards were the retired Champions who were wed to questers.
My father and mother stood up and a hush came over the crowd. The King took a jewel encrusted silver sword from a waiting guard and he held it by his side. The first of the Champions knelt before him.
“Arise Jared and join the Tournament,” my father said clearly, and he touched the flat side of the sword blade to each shoulder of the kneeling young man. Jared stood up and the crowd murmured its respectful approval. The King passed my mother the sword and Jared walked towards me where I handed him a shiny, Aldirite Tournament shield. He nodded and I looked into bright, blue green eyes. He stood to the side and we both waited for the next Champion to arise. This time, it was my mother who touched the sword to a young man’s shoulders, and she spoke to him regally just as my father had done.
And so the ceremony continued until the pile of shields beside me was down to one.
“Arise Thea, and join the Tournament,” said my mother, and soon after, a young woman took the very last shield from my hand.
This was when the ceremony became no longer a ceremony but a celebration, and music of the kind that was very different from the music on Josh’s cartridge began playing. The music was merry and it was a signal that the time to celebrate had officially begun. The noise level in the Great Hall rose as voices almost drowned out the sounds made by the musical players. Vendors roamed amongst the people and they sold tiny bites of salted food, and tankards of fermented ale. Dancing had begun already around the centre of the hall and the Champions standing to the side of me jumped down from the raised area and
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