Page by Tamora Pierce Read Free Book Online

his paces until the end-of-morning bell. She returned to the stable and groomed her mount, glad the morning had ended.
    Faleron, whose fire chestnut was Peach-blossom’s neighbor, leaned on the rail between the stalls. “Kel, I’m still not sure about that catapult problem,” he confessed, embarrassed. He knew more Tortallan law than any other page, but mathematics came hard for him. “If I fetch it to lunch, would you take a look?”
    Kel nodded. “You didn’t have to ask, you know.”
    Faleron grinned. “Mama raised me polite.”
    In a nearby stall Garvey muttered, “So, Faleron, you’re friends with her now because you can have her whenever you want?”
    Faleron threw down his brush and went for the other boy. Sore shoulder or no, Kel flew out of the stall. She caught Faleron just a foot from the sneering Garvey and hung on to him, putting all of her weight into it.
    The older boy fought her grip. “Gods curse it, Kel, you heard what he said!”
    “I heard a fart,” Kel said grimly. “You know where those come from. Let it go.”
    Faleron relaxed, but she still kept both hands wrapped around his arm. He was easygoing, but everyone had sore spots. At last Faleron made a rude gesture at Garvey and let Kel pull him away.
    They had almost reached their horses when Neal’s unmistakable drawl sounded through the stable: “Joren is so pretty. Say, Garvey, are you two friends because you can have him?”
    Garvey roared and charged, but Joren got to Neal first. Before they landed more than a punch each, Neal’s friends, including Kel, attacked them. More boys entered the brawl, kicking and hitting blindly, striking friend as often as foe. Kel nearly fainted when someone’s boot hit her bruised collarbone.
    Above the din made by boys and frightened horses, Kel heard the sound of breaking wood. Realizing she would never reach Neal, praying he didn’t get his silly head broken, she grabbed Merric and Seaver by the collar and backed up, dragging them with her. The press of bodies behind her let up suddenly; she nearly fell over backward.
    Startled, she looked around and saw Peachblossom. His teeth firmly sunk into Cleon’s jacket, the gelding drew the big youth out of the fray. Prince Roald gripped Owen by both arms to keep him out of the brawl; Roald’s horse, the black gelding Shadow, held Faleron by the arm as he slowly pulled him free. Zahir’s bay shouldered through the mob, stepping on no one, but forcing them to move away from him and each other.
    For a moment a chill ran through Kel. She thought uneasily, The animals here are so strange. Then she shook it off. The harridan who trained the ladies of the Yamani court to defend themselves had always said, “We use the tools at hand.” These animals, uncanny or not, were the right tools for this mess.
    She thrust Merric and Seaver into a ruined stall and grabbed Cleon’s arm. “Peachblossom, can you find Neal?” she asked her horse.
    The big gelding released Cleon’s jacket, blew scornfully, and waded into the fight. Unlike Zahir’s bay, he was not careful of feet or fingers. If they were in the way, Peachblossom stepped on them. Several boys rolled clear to nurse bruises and broken bones.
    “You can let go, Kel,” said Cleon, his voice dry. He watched Cavall’s Heart, Lord Wyldon’s dark dun mare, who had also broken out of her stall. She dragged Garvey out of the pile. “Even I’m not stupid enough to argue with horses. Particularly not these horses.”
    Kel glared up at him. Cleon was a fourth-year, but he was also a friend. “I’m glad you’re smart enough to realize that much,” she told him.
    Cleon slapped her cheerfully on the back. “What’s the matter, dewdrop? Don’t you like men fighting to protect your honor?”
    “I can defend my own honor, thank you,” she replied. “I thought it was Joren s honor at stake. And stop calling me those idiotic nicknames. That joke is dead and rotting.” She watched as Jump grabbed Vinson by