“So did Alex!” Malek said as they approached the stable, Jess understanding exactly what Malek meant when she caught sight of Jera, clearly dressed for a journey, and currently in what appeared to be a heated discussion with Alex. Jess noted the thickly quilted gambeson Jera wore as armor, along with a light half helm and gloves, her side-sword strapped to her hip. Jera was now pointedly ignoring her lover even as she made sure her steed was ready for riding, checking his strappings with curt, efficient movements. Jess noted the small buckler hooked to her belt beside her blade. Oddly enough, it appeared to be made entirely of dense hardwood. Unlike larger wooden shields, most bucklers Jess had trained with were made entirely of steel.
Not surprisingly, the stablehands had fled the prickly atmosphere and Jera had been left to tack her own steed, a strong looking gelding Jess had seen her ride a number of times before on outings with her lover on days the two weren’t on quite such prickly terms.
Jess, for her part, went over the stablehand's preparation of her own piebald destrier. She gave a pleased smile to find her deeply cantled saddle quite securely cinched, and appropriately padded. Not surprising, really, as any stablehand or page who treated the warhorses under his care with less than utter dedication could expect a thrashing if he was lucky, and far worse if he was not. For all that Highrock excelled as a place of learning and treated its denizens fairly, it was still, first and foremost, an academy of war.
Thinking fondly of her own first days caring for her father's steeds, Jess proceeded to check the stirrups and bit, nodded approvingly, and gave her warhorse a gentle pat on the nose and a much appreciated carrot. Mercy snorted gently, and Jess softly blew into her nose. Measuring sixteen hands at the withers, she had a short back, proud neck, and powerfully built flanks. Jess smiled with pride at her fine destrier, knowing well how intelligent she was, and how capable. For Mercy could keep at a steady trot for hours only to spring forth in a powerful canter and charge in but seconds.
Jess frowned, remembering more than one heated exchange she had had with various Knight Aspirants simultaneously demeaning her claiming destrier status for a mare, and condemning the waste of such fine horseflesh on Jess. Those first year students, of course, had no idea what it meant to be a Squire of War.
There was a reason why once bold slavers, unacknowledged by the entire Council of Lords, had now fled northern Erovering entirely. Vile men happy to raid, kidnap, or simply trade coin for the unwanted serfs of desperate and cruel nobles had learned to fear Eloquin's Squires; fear them more than any band of disinterested retainers, more than any royal contingent of cavalry interested only in keeping the roads safe, more than any other force upon the face of Dawn.
The haunted faces of the brutalized women and children Jess and her fellow Squires had rescued over the last two years was a sight that had seared her as deeply as the cries of the bandits who had died by her hand during the most savage of melees; horrors she would always do her best to push away with good wine and companionship during the revels Eloquin always allowed after one of their missions.
Everyone knew it was just a matter of time before Jess and her fellow Squires would be compelled to test their skills in full deadly earnest. General Eloquin never had to say a word.
Jess took a deep breath, pushing away all such troubling speculations as she lost herself in her mount’s gentle gaze before proceeding to carefully checked Mercy’s hooves, assuring the soft iron shoes were secured firmly, and that her mare’s hocks were free of heat and tenderness.
Jess gave a satisfied nod as she then tended to her gear, planning to travel relatively lightly, yet pleased to see her favored cavalry shield secured to its notch, as well as her two horse blades and mace. The shield was of modest size, its specifications less oriented to blocking an enemy lance and more to assist in the frenetic combat she could expect once she was in the thick of it, where her longsword, sadly, would be a less than ideal weapon choice. Instead, she would rely on her horseman's saber and mace. The precisely weighted and curved saber with its protective hilt was an excellent weapon for cutting through lightly armored infantry and cavalry alike.
Jess, her fellow Squires, and Lord Hyve's most promising Aspirants had spent hundreds of hours mastering their specialized horse sabers, training with those weapons to such a degree that they could cut through all but the thickest plates of boiled rawhide, even gambesons parting to their blade's caress. Feats of cutting no typical soldier could duplicate with anything save a halberd or poleaxe. Cleaving through unarmored limbs, even decapitation, was an almost effortless feat in comparison. Its ability to thrust, however, left much to be desired, and slashing against a mail shirt would only damage the blade.
Her flanged mace was a far less elegant affair. About the weight of her saber, its center of balance was at the head, allowing for devastating blows. It was a brutal weapon designed to transmit crushing force through mail and even plate, ideal for pummeling heavily armored foes that her saber would perform poorly against. Jess had trained to use both weapons to devastating effect, on horseback and on foot.
Jess then proceeded to check the long tapered blade of her second sword, a considerably different beast than her saber. Purely a thrusting weapon with its a specialized protective hilt, it was a thick, single edged blade that came to a point, and for all that it had an edge, the thick wedge of its blade and its odd balance made it poorly suited for cutting. It was, however, an excellent weapon when used in its specialized role as a one handed lance of sorts, able to puncture mail links and burst rivets to devastating effect, when charging on horseback with the full power of her destrier behind her blow.
Though giving point with estoc was not so deadly or long reaching as point with lance or spear, if used correctly, her estoc could be safely withdrawn even as she passed her impaled foe. Whereas lances and horse spears were straight on kills, used but once, estocs were angled murder, used again and again, as Eloquin would say.
Jess smiled in momentary recollection of endless drills, mastering the art of giving point with estoc, lance, and horse spear, before wheeling around to attack those same targets with mace and saber, mimicking the charge and melee of a real battle. She didn't recall how many armored slabs of meat she had skewered, slashed, and crushed to Eloquin's approval during their endless training exercises, only that after each such session there was never a shortage of well-peppered stew.
Once Jess had thoroughly inspected her equipment with a final satisfied nod, she was forced to take note of the argument she had sensed brewing with her friends, one she had hoped would resolve itself by the time her satisfied sigh clued all that she could no longer pretend to ignore them.
Jess took in the slender form of the young wizard who had been a thoughtful and loyal friend to her for years, noting how Alex was quite pointedly not looking at Jera, performing the final checks on his horse’s gear as well. Knowing an extended journey was no place for a scholar’s robes, he had consigned himself to practical riding leathers and tunic, armed with nothing more fearsome than a belt knife. He did wear a luxurious red doublet, laced with beads and silver, the various sigils of knowledge and lore sewn therein making him look every part the journeying arcane scholar, as was part of their cover, despite the lack of robes. "I still don't think this is a good idea," he said.
Jera’s rich brown eyes flashed. “I think it’s a perfect idea. I need to get out of this College and get some fresh air. I am tired of feeling stifled in there, and if my lover is going for an enjoyable trip in the countryside where all he plans is research, I see no reason why I shouldn’t accompany him. And if my family takes issue with that, piss on them!”
Alex just sighed, gazing at his feet. “We don’t know how safe it will be.”
Jera gave an exaggerated quirk of her eyebrow. "Our college is prohibited from sending students to areas of known risk, my dear Alex, most especially after what happened the last time we got it into our heads to do so."
Jess did her utmost to stifle the s
udden urge to burst into laughter. How many times had Jess and her fellow Squires, often as not accompanied by Hyve's Aspirants, gone out in the dead of night only to return covered in gore days later, desperate to lose themselves in revelry to forget the horrors of the things they had seen and done? No professor dared to question them either. Because underneath the scholarly facade, everyone knew what Highrock was really about: Forging the knights, tacticians, and battlemages that would soon be so desperately needed, even if that mean baptizing youths in the blood of righteous slaughter, the crucible of war to come.
It was only students who openly flaunted their classes that they took issue with, as Jess had learned, much to her regret.
Jera spared Jess a wry smile before turning back to her frustrated beau. "If things are really so dangerous as Jessica's twinkling eyes suggest, then we should all decline this adventure and stay here, where we are safe and secure. But since we all know the real nature of this mission, my talents should be almost as useful as yours, my lover. And unlike you, I can cast my magics in armor, and can at least wield a sword!" Jera turned to Jess, her tender smile at odds with her sharp tone. "It's thanks to Jess, after all, that we can even have this conversation, having saved us from folly, twice over. At great cost to herself. I may not be quite so skilled with the spell as you are, Alex, but damn it all if I won't do my part to guard my shieldsister's back."
Jess smirked. “I don’t think you are going to win this one, my friend.”
Alex chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I figured that out some time ago, Jess. I have to at least go through the motions, however."
Jera nodded. “He has to show he cares. It’s not going to stop me from being with him. Nothing is touching my sweet Alex, but he has to make at least the gesture of wanting to keep me safe. It's one of the reasons why I love him.”
Jess couldn’t help but sigh as Jera gazed so tenderly at her lover, stern pouty lips breaking into a beautiful smile even as she gently pulled Alex to her side, giving him a fierce kiss. “Where you go, I go. That’s all there is to it, my dear Alex.”
Alex started to blush, then grinned. “So be it,” he declared, kissing her fiercely. “If anything happens to you, though, I swear I’ll rip this land apart!”
Jera grinned. “I would expect no less from my magelord,” she whispered before pulling him close once again for another heartfelt kiss.
Malek rolled his eyes. "Are we going to get going this morning, or do you guys need some time in the hayloft?"
Jess smiled. “Haylofts aside, I like your sword, Jera. It has a most unusual looking cup hilt, however. May I see?”
With a nod, Jera let Jess unsheathe and examine her blade, and Jess spent some moments getting a sense of the heft and feel of the sword. Though the blade was only a half foot shorter than that of her longsword, it was considerably lighter and narrower than what she preferred. That aside, it was made of excellent quality steel. What was odd, however, was that the protective cup hilt and crossguard were made entirely of thick hardwood.
Jess gave Jera a single questioning glance, inviting a smile from her friend.
"I know its unusual, Jess, but there is a reason for it. The same reason why I wear no metal armaments or even a belt knife. The only metal upon my person is the full tang blade. The hilt, pommel, even the crossguard are all made of thick, resin treated hardwood. As is my buckler.” Jera winked. “You’re a smart girl, Jess. I’m sure you can guess the reason why.”
Jess frowned. “It has something to do with spell casting, I can only surmise.”
Jera nodded. "Not all magics are so constrained, but with those of us who channel lightning, via storm or spell, excess metal is a liability to us, whereas a single steel blade that doubles as a wand actually helps us channel our lightning bolts straight and true to our target. And the fact that I can fight with it is an added bonus." She gently stroked the odd wooden hilt. "Though it's folly to think it the equal of a metal hilted blade, I have no doubt that the hardwood will survive at least one frenzied melee encounter, and the thick quilted gambeson I wear is itself solid protection and not too cumbersome for me, though I know it would be hot as blazes to wear if the seasons weren't changing."
Jera smiled. "I have seen how wickedly effective Squire sabers are at slashing through cuir bouilli on horseback, Jess, but most swords aren't designed like that, and most swordsmen can't cut through rawhide or gambesons like Eloquin's elite can. So all and all, I should be safe enough, I think."
Jess shrugged. "It's based off a sword from Eloquin's homeland, which no one talks about, but we all know was someplace exotic. It does little good against someone in mail. The curve in the top third of the blade means it lacks a proper point like most swords, and so is quite poor in the thrust, but Eloquin thought it had a place against most infantry, and he was right. It is wickedly effective against any armor save steel, an expert able to cut through of cuir bouilli or gambesons, armaments that together are quite effective against most weapons used by levied troops. The beauty of it is, most infantry armor, when they have armor at all, is focused on half helm and boiled rawhide for the torso at best. Decent, cheap protection for infantry against arrow or spear. Such men are lucky to have even the thinnest covering for their necks and arms, however, which is just where we were trained to strike, where even an inch deep bite can cripple or kill our foe."
Jera nodded. "Which means Eloquin's swords can slice right through most infantry, even without your specialized training. And if you face someone covered in steel, you pull out your mace. I know, Jessie. Now tell me what you think of a stormmage's sword. Does it meet with your approval?" Jera asked as Jess went from admiring the blade to actually getting a feel for the oddly hilted side-sword and buckler combination.
With the ease of a warrior well versed in many forms of combat she quickly found her rhythm, performing a series of feints, snapping cuts, and powerful thrusts, weaving and striking with buckler and blade in tandem. Jess gave an approving nod to Jera as she finished her drill. "Quite light. Excellent balance for its style of fighting. I like it. And as for the hilt and buckler, I suspect they are quite sturdy examples of hardwood indeed, and will both serve you well.”
Jera smiled at the compliment and laughed warmly. “I know it’s not your caliber of weapon, dear Jess, but I thank you for the compliment. And hopefully the buckler and hilt will both stand up to whatever opposition we face, fates willing it won’t be too severe.”
“You reinforced them, didn’t you?” quipped Twilight, who had chosen that moment to flow up to his favorite perch, back from whatever mysterious place he had wandered off to, Jess observed.
“Of course.” Jess grinned as she stroked her purring familiar, hoping her friend wouldn’t be too troubled by the leaves now sprouting from her buckler. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Jess, we’ve got company.” Malek noted tersely, instantly snapping Jess out of her ebullient mood as an all too familiar face sauntered into the stables.
Mord. Looking all too smug as he gazed Jessica’s way, wearing a shirt of fine mail over his doublet, a new blade firmly in place, the hilt and sheath an exact mirror of the one Jess had seized the day before. She felt her lip curl as some indefinable sixth sense made out the lingering presence of his two favored cohorts. It was as if she could sense the faint taint of their auras, and all but taste their fear.
Jess allowed herself a grim smile. For all his nonchalant airs, Jess could sense the anxiety that lay behind her foe’s condescending gaze. She felt an unwelcome chill make its shivery way down her spine as she noted what else lay behind his gaze, her heart skipping a beat even as she strove to recall every trespass he had made against her person, every wrong that she had sworn was unforgivable over the last three years.
“Jess, I would speak with you, before you go.”
Jess gave a frustrated shake of her head, though she already knew what she would do. There was no mockery in his tone, no wasted moments spent trading insults with her friends
. Just a request, directly made, plain as day.
“What is it, Mord?” She didn’t bother to hide her frown.
Mord smirked, shaking his head ever so slightly. “Not here, Jess. Between you and me.”
“No games, Mord.” Jess’s tone was cold as steel. Surprisingly, her nemesis did not rise to the bait.
“No games, Jess. You already know the promise I made you.”
Jessica’s brows furled. She did indeed recall his oath; never to molest or humiliate her on any day that she allowed his lips to touch her own. “Very well, Mord.” Jess allowed, ignoring the concerned gazes of her friends. “Let’s get this over with.”
A cold nod, Mord immediately turning back the way he came, and within moments Jess found herself in a secluded nook by the stables, hidden from casual observation, and out of the line of sight of Mord’s own lackeys, Jess had made certain of as well before following.
“Yes Mord. What is it?” Jess locked gazes with the man before her, something in his eyes making her clench the hilt of her sheathed sword all the tighter, even as she felt her heart skip a beat. Her foe looked of a sudden at a loss for words. She was shocked to see the pleading look in his gaze before he abruptly shook it off, aloof manner once more firmly in place.
"I came to speak to you about the source of my fellow Aspirants' possession," he managed to say at last. "They are free of the taint. Indeed, they hardly remember what had happened yesterday at all. But they recalled enough to tell me what I needed to know." Mord locked gazes with Jess. "Be careful in your search, my Jess. For another searches as well, and I fear someone you care about is in their line of sight. Were I you, Jess, I would be less interested in following the path that your puppetmasters have laid for you to follow like a trail of tainted breadcrumbs, and instead focus on saving your friend, squarely in the sights of a most dangerous enemy indeed."
Jess frowned. “Can you tell me anything a bit less cryptic?”
The arrogant young lord grinned, his troubled gaze replaced by the very cocksure arrogance that had caused her to dislike him on sight, near three years ago. "I think, my bride-to-be, you owe me a kiss. Just recompense for abstaining from that which is mine by right."
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