"I can do it," Zared said, and she walked to Colbrand, her eyes big as she gazed up at him.
Colbrand smiled at her. He was used to young boys hero-worshipping him and this boy was no exception, he thought. He was always kind to the boys, for who knew if in a year or two he might not meet one in a joust. But then Colbrand was kind to most people because it was his nature.
"I would be pleased if you would show my squire," Colbrand said.
Zared took a step forward, but a big hand clamped on her shoulder. "He has to attend his brother."
"Oh, then you must go."
Zared turned and narrowed her eyes at Tearle. "My brother can take care of himself. All the Peregrines can take care of themselves, including this one." She jerked her shoulder from his grip, then turned and smiled back at Colbrand. She was still looking at him as she took the sword from Jamie.
"I'll get you for this," Jamie whispered as he relinquished Colbrand's sword.
Zared ignored him as she sat on the stool before the whetstone. When she'd been growing up her brothers had despaired of making her as strong as a boy might have been, so they gave her many peripheral tasks, such as sharpening swords and banging dents from armor. She was good at putting an edge on a blade, and she used all her knowledge to put a perfect, sharp edge on Colbrand's sword.
When she was finished she held it up to him, looking at him as a puppy might when it hoped for praise from its master.
Colbrand took the big sword and ran his thumb along the edge. "Excellent," he said, and he smiled so warmly at Zared that she was sure she was going to faint again.
At that moment a vendor came by, a big tray on a ribbon about his neck.
"Work such as this must be rewarded," Colbrand said. "Are you boys hungry? No," he said, laughing, "boys of your age are always hungry." He gave the vendor a coin and told Zared and Jamie to choose the tarts they wanted.
Zared chose a cherry tart, and for a moment she just stared at it. It was from Colbrand, and she had an urge to save the tart, to keep it forever. But hunger won out, and she ate it, but slowly.
"Have you fought yet?" she asked Colbrand.
"Once," he answered, smiling fondly at the boy who looked up at him with such naked worship. The boy had no doubt heard of his reputation, of the many prizes he had won over the years.
"And he won," Jamie said belligerently to Zared. "He scored four times. Colbrand has never been knocked from his horse."
"Now, Jamie," Colbrand said. "We should not tempt fate. Perhaps at this tournament I shall be downed. There are some new men here, such as your brother. He is good with a lance?"
Zared bit down on a cherry pit, and instead of spitting it on the ground she sucked it dry, then slipped it into the top of her hose. "He is very good," she said. "But perhaps with your skills and practice you will show yourself well against him."
"Show himself well!" Jamie said, coming to his feet. "Colbrand will knock your brother to the ground." Jamie didn't like the way his beloved master was paying attention to the too-pretty boy. He was angry that the boy could sharpen a sword better than he could. He didn't like the way people were saying that for all their dirt, the Peregrines were brilliant fighters. He knew Colbrand expected him to display good manners at all times, but the bragging of the Peregrine brat was too much for him. He leaped on Zared.
Tearle's first instinct was to let the two of them fight it out. Zared had been making a fool of herself over Colbrand, and he didn't like it one bit. How could she be so starry-eyed over a man who was too stupid to see that she was a girl? How could she be so dumb as to fall for a pretty face on top of some shiny armor?
Neither Colbrand nor Tearle had time to interrupt the brawl because Severn, wearing armor, his hair plastered to his head with sweat, came storming up to them and grabbed both Jamie and Zared by the necks of their tunics and pulled them apart. He didn't so much as look at Jamie but flung him aside as though he were a used rag. Zared he held on to, and he pulled her with him as he hauled her through the tents, past the watching eyes of the many people on the grounds, and led her to their tent. He shoved her inside, shoved her so hard she nearly went through the other side.
She knew Severn was angry, and when one of her brothers was like that she knew better than to open her mouth.
"You are my squire," he said in a low voice that Zared knew meant he was really, truly, deeply angry. "Your duties are to bring me fresh lances, to care for my horses, to give me drink when I need it. Yet you sleep the day away, and when you wake, do you come to help me? No, you make an ass of yourself over that puffed-up, strutting—"
"Colbrand isn't—" Zared stopped herself. It was not the time to argue with her brother.
He advanced on her, and she stepped back in fear. While her brothers often pummeled each other, they'd never hit her in the same way, but she didn't trust him to hold his temper. "I am most sorry, Severn," she whispered.
"I've a mind to return you to Liana."
"Oh, no, please don't," she whispered. "I will help you. I swear it."
"How? By playing the fool to that Colbrand? Don't you realize that he also tried for the Lady Anne's hand? At dinner it was said that sh
e favors the man, as does her father."
"I didn't mean any harm. His squire is stupid. He doesn't even know how to sharpen a sword. I had to show him all that you have taught me, and—"