Free A Call to Arms: Book One of the Chronicles of Arden by Shiriluna Nott, SaJa H Page A

Aldino.”
    Tarquin opened his mouth as if to protest further but Roland stepped in immediately. “Enough. I don’t care who either of your fathers are or whether you like it or not, you’re partnered. If I hear another word on the matter you’ll both be running circuits. Is that clear?”
    Gib didn’t watch any more. The line was beginning to move as a couple of training assistants opened the shed and directed students on which tools to take. “Will they help us if we don’t know which one to choose?” he asked Diddy.
    His companion nodded. “I believe so. If they’re busy, you want to go for a sword that’s not too long for your arm.” At Gib’s dubious look, Diddy smiled, elaborating further. “You should be able to hold it down by your side without the blade tip touching the ground. Likewise, it shouldn’t rest above your ankle.”
    Gib hoped he could remember that in the future. Diddy must have picked up on his tense shoulders or stance because he was jovial and casual in conversation. “I believe Master Roland may have been singling me out a little with his speech about no jewel-encrusted embroidery. I tried to tell Mother I would have no need of such finery, but she insisted I look my best on the first day. I shall revel in showing her my training uniform.”
    “I’m excited too,” replied Gib. “I’ll actually have a pair of boots that fit.” He laughed to show that it was acceptable. “Will we have to pay for them somehow?”
    “I–I’m really not sure.” Diddy paused as if to think. “I would say not. Surely if you’re training to defend Arden then it would be in the palace’s best interest to provide quality gear. I’ll have to ask Father.”
    Their conversation lulled and the quiet instantly sought to undo Gib’s hard-earned peace of mind. “Is your father on the high council?”
    Diddy flinched and Gib wondered if he’d said something wrong.
    His companion recovered quickly however, flashing a smile. “You could say that.”
    Roland’s voice boomed above the line of trainees just then as he bellowed at some poor fool who had knocked over a row of practice helms. Gib leaned a little closer to Diddy so no one else could hear. “Weapons Master Roland sure is different than the rest of the highborns here.”
    Diddy snorted. “What is that supposed to mean, exactly?” He feigned offense for a moment before laughing. “Besides, the Korbin family isn’t highborn anyway.”
    Gib frowned. “What? How is that possible? Roland is a master, after all.”
    Diddy’s eyes widened just a little as he put the pieces together. “Oh, I see. Roland Korbin was a farmer once too, just like you. He was drafted or came here on his own, I’m not sure which, and has worked his way through the ranks.”
    A creeping sensation began to blossom somewhere in Gib’s gut. “You can do that? You don’t have to be highborn to hold the title of Master?”
    “It is unfortunately rare, but yes. Lowborns can ascend the social and political ranks.”
    It seemed vaguely familiar now that it was being said. He was sure he remembered his pa going on about this once. They’d been hauling water from the well and his father had been speaking of King Rishi and the changes that were coming to the country. “ You can be born poor, Gib, but you don’t have to stay that way anymore. Arden finally has a good king who sees everyone’s value .”
    A slow smile crept across Gib’s face. “It was King Rishi’s doing, wasn’t it? My pa always used to tell me stories about the good changes he’d made. King Rishi must be a decent sort. I mean, his laws have made it so that commoners can rise in the ranks and my sister, Liza, was able to become a sentinel. He seems like he must be wise.”
    Diddy didn’t respond, but he had a huge grin on his face. Gib couldn’t figure out why. They were next in line to be fitted with the wooden blades that they would bash each other with. No doubt they would leave the field today