The King's Deryni by Katherine Kurtz Read Free Book Online Page A

dumped occasionally. Today I learned that some riders, like my last noble opponent, even manage to land on their feet, and then vault back into the saddle. Uncle, you must learn how that is done—and then begin to teach it!”
    Duke Richard only bowed slightly in agreement, lips tight-pressed.
    â€œIn any case, with practice,
all
of us will improve,” the king went on. “And remember that it is also important to learn
how
to fall off your horse and not injure yourself.” His grey eyes held a twinkle as they swept his listeners. “Happily, all of you seem to have survived
that
lesson, at least for today.”
    He smiled, then turned his attention to the rest of the pages. “Now, any of you who managed to stay on your horse but missed taking any rings, please step forward.”
    Two of the younger boys shuffled clear of the others, looking hangdog.
    â€œWell.” Brion looked askance at the pair. “I suppose that boys who can ride but can’t hit a target might serve as couriers, or perhaps carry banners.” He drew a breath and let it out with a dramatic sigh. “But since you aspire to be knights one day, lads, your use of weapons
will
improve.” He made a shooing motion in the direction of the first group. “Join the ones who can’t ride. All of you still have much to learn.”
    With that, he turned his attention to the remaining pages, of which there were nearly a dozen.
    â€œVery good. I see that the rest of you all managed to stay mounted and take at least a few rings. Move closer now, right up to the dais.”
    Alaric shuffled forward with the rest, clutching his rings close to his body. Duncan stayed close beside him. Though both had known Brion Haldane since birth, viewing him almost as an elder brother or uncle, it was different standing before the king.
    â€œNow, all of you raise your left arms and show me your rings.” The royal gaze swept the quickly upraised arms. “I see. Now, if you have five or less, lower your arm and take three steps back.”
    Two boys stepped back.
    â€œSix or less.”
    Airey Redfearn and another boy retreated.
    Brion surveyed the rest of those standing with upraised arms, then pointed to a boy standing near Alaric, who stood a head taller than he. “Ciarán MacRae, how many rings do you have?”
    â€œEight, my lord,” the boy said brightly.
    â€œEight. That’s very good, but I see boys with more than that.” He glanced at the others. “Anyone with eight or less, step back.”
    Ciarán and two more stepped back, including Duncan, and several of them cast interested glances at the stack of rings on Alaric’s arm. But piled together, it was hard to judge how many there really were.
    â€œPaget Sullivan, how many have you got?” Brion asked the oldest of the remaining boys, a tall twelve-year-old.
    â€œTen, Sire,” the lad replied.
    â€œTen? Excellent work! And you, Aean Morrisey?”
    â€œOnly nine, Your Grace,” the boy admitted.
    â€œAh, but nine is still very, very good. Well done, Aean. And young Alaric Morgan? It looks like you have quite a stack there. How many?”
    â€œTen, Sire,” Alaric said confidently.
    â€œTen?”
The king glanced over his shoulder at Kenneth and raised an eyebrow. “He really took ten? How old
is
he, Kenneth? He isn’t even officially a page yet, is he?”
    â€œNo, my prince—but he will be eight at Michaelmas. Earl Jared and I are training him—and Sir Llion.” He smiled as he jutted his chin toward Llion, standing with Duncan and trying to be invisible.
    Brion shook his head, half in disbelief, then glanced at his mother, who had come to her feet and was holding a laurel wreath, looking faintly disapproving. Princess Xenia held a small silver cup.
    â€œInteresting. Very well, I’m giving the prize to Paget Sullivan, because he was the best of the pages competing, with ten