Squire of War

by M. H. Johnson

Lord Hyve was forced to nod. “Well thought. Your student does you credit, Eloquin. I only hope she has as strong a knack as you claim, for I have no desire to stumble about like a fool through the woods in the dead of night.”

  Eloquin held his colleague's gaze for some moments, Lord Hyve eventually flushing and looking away. “Calenbry has yet to disappoint.”

  Mord chuckled softly. “How talented you are, dearest Jess. One would hardly think you the laughingstock of half the school. And how many classes did you sleep through this week, my prize?”

  Jess flushed as a couple of the Aspirants and perhaps a few Squires snickered. She didn't know what the big deal was. Everyone knew she had an invisible cat as her familiar, and that she hated classes. Besides, she had done far better this week than most. “Two,” she said with a certain measure of pride. “Just two. The last two days don't count, and the professors didn't even lecture me this time. And unless you want my fist in your kidney, you will cease calling me your prize."

  “The classes did resonate with far less snores than is the norm,” purred her ever present companion, even now resting comfortably upon his favorite perch. “Of course, you managed such a feat by dint of cutting most of your classes entirely. I suppose that's one way to get out of your assignments.”

  “Two? You didn't show up to our trigonometry class all week, Jess. You know, the one we are all required to at least sit through? Useful for judging the range of catapults and other siege weapons? Saint's fire, I haven't seen you attend a single one of our lectures!”

  Jess felt her cheeks flush at Lucas's words, Mord's smile visibly growing with her discomfort.

  “Lucas!” Jess would recognize Malek's hiss anywhere. “Show some respect!”

  "I do respect her, Malek!" Lucas snapped. "Her and Neal both! Our lives are in their hands every time we draw our blades in earnest, trusting them to have our backs. I don't give a damn if she mocks the philosophy professor, ditches etiquette, and can balance a ledger no better than my little sister. But when our lives are on the line, I expect her to take the courses seriously, and trigonometry at Highrock is as much about catapults as anything else!”

  Jess winced and swallowed in the awkward silence, feeling suddenly ashamed.

  Strangely, it was Eloquin himself who relieved the awful tension. “You all know the real function of our college. Your other courses are but smoke and slag. This is the steel that will forge you into weapons worthy of the king himself.” Jess found herself strangely soothed by her commander's words. That was, until he caught her gaze with his own.

  Jess swallowed, heart suddenly pounding.

  "Calenbry. General Vyrm's Trebuchet. What was its range?"

  “Two hundred feet when casting an eighth ton of stone,” Jess recalled aloud, for military treatises fascinated her like the most entertaining of stories, sticking comfortably in her mind so long as she read them aloud, even if every other subject she studied seemed to evaporate after a single night's sleep.

  Eloquin nodded coolly. “You've seen the catapult the Aspirants practice with. What is its range?”

  “One hundred and twenty feet,” Jess said automatically.

  More than one Aspirant murmured at this, angry whispers and curses as to who had revealed such, their catapult having been designed for the competitions the following year.

  “By the Goddess, who revealed the specifications of our tool?” Lord Hyve hissed.

  Eloquin's gaze pinned her still. “Jess?”

  Jess flushed, catching Hyve's furious glare. “No one, sir. I just had a good look at it when we were training the other week. It was just sort of sitting there and, well, once it caught my eye, it was obvious.”

  Dead silence.

  "Balderdash!” Hyve shouted. “No student could possibly sense a catapult's range with a single glance!"

  Jess lowered her head. “I am sorry, sir. That's the sense I had of it. If I am wrong, well, I am wrong.”

  Eloquin nodded. “Anything else you wish to say about that catapult?”

  Jess swallowed. “You had best replace the central beam, Commander Hyve. Its core is rotten, even if the wood looked fine once sanded and stained. It will snap when you least expect it, with the results you'd expect from a siege weapon failing.”

  Jess could see Lord Hyve pale, even in the moonlight.

  “By the Goddess. There is no way.”

  Eloquin smiled coldly. “If Calenbry wishes to play the fool and deny herself the opportunity to learn and grow as a scholar, that is her choice. I will say this, however. As a Squire of War, she has never failed in her duties, or her insights.”

  Jess couldn't help flushing, feeling at once elated and ashamed.

  6

  The road will soon fork, up ahead. We take the trail leaving the highroad that skirts the forest's edge,” Mord noted, but Jess had already sensed as much.

  "Correct, Aspirant," Lord Hyve commended. "We proceed up that path for another few miles before entering the deepwood proper. I have left markers indicating where the switchback cuts through the forest's heart. We will then enter, make camp, and proceed along the trail at first light."

  Jess blinked. This hadn't been part of the original plan. They were to proceed through the night without fail, so as to be able to scout out the area around the slaver's stronghold before first light. They had already spent a fair number of hours on horseback through the dead of night, however, and Jess suspected the commander must be tired, for all that their horses, recently watered and always kept at their peak with daily exercise, were more than ready to continue the journey.

  Also, if the gentle susurrations of the rustling spruce, birch, and walnut trees they were now riding underneath were anything to go by, Hyve was wrong about the switchback.

  “By the Goddess, I can't see a thing!” cursed several of the Aspirants, and it was true. The thick canopy overhead had blotted out most of the moonlight.

  Jess smiled, feeling strangely at peace, for all that they rode along the edge of the thick forest, sensing perfectly where they were in relation to where they wanted to be.

  “Mord.”

  Jess could sense Mord's smile before a few whispered mutterings caused the very few mages within their number to catalyze arcane globes glowing a gentle silvery hue, now bobbing just above head height, more than enough to light their way. Jess sensed the slight crimson tint coming from the orb of perhaps the least talented elementalist between their two bands, knowing that must be Malek's own.

  “Yes Jess?” Measuring eyes, always seeming to see too much.

  Jess forced herself to say it. Knowing Eloquin expected her to follow the chain of command. Mord had been put in charge, and Jess had no desire to butt heads with a man as powerful as Lord Hyve. She was not that much of a fool. “I regret to inform you and Knight Commander Hyve that the switchback trail a mile ahead is no more.”

  Lord Hyve glared. “What is she going on about now?”

  Mord smiled. “The path to your personal estates has somehow been blocked, Commander.”

  "Impossible," he huffed.

  Icy eyes pinned Jess's once more. “Explain, Jess.”

  Jess swallowed, forcing herself to focus only on her commander, hating having to reveal so much of herself. “Some force shattered multiple trees nearby to block the path. Even if we were to find a way around it, we'd lose hours, and it would be unlikely that we could squeeze the horses through.”

  “And how the hells does she know this?” Hyve did not appear happy, glaring at Jess as if it were somehow her fault.

  Jess bowed her head. “The forest still reels with the cries of its brethren. Scores of healthy trees were cut down in the prime of their lives, just up ahead, and I can only imagine it was to block the less traveled route to your demesne. In other words, I think our enemies are trying to prevent being taken unawares.”

  Lord Hyve's lips pursed into a hard line. “I will see the evidence of this for myself, Calenbry, and if what you say is true, then I expect you t
o find us an alternative route through!”

  Jess blinked at this. Instead of the slightest appreciation for her gifts, the man was acting like it was somehow her fault; that enemies blocking access to his property was somehow Jess's responsibility to rectify.

  “I will of course do my best, sir,” Jess forced herself to say, almost imagining that Eloquin had just given her the smallest of nods. Diplomacy over animosity. For no matter how much Lord Hyve grated, it would be foolish to antagonize a man so powerful, particularly when he had scores of well-trained youth that could serve as deadly adversaries or wonderful allies, though only a fraction of his students had dared to follow on this, the most desperate of occasions.

  Sure enough, a handful of minutes later, Lord Hyve came back from his explorations cursing furiously, Mord by his side, flashing Jess the darkest of smiles.

  "The entire path, blocked by a score of felled trees! If I didn't know better, I'd say deadfalls were deliberately placed as well, and I have no desire to risk broken hocks trying to force our horses through." He glared at Jess, fingers habitually pulling the tips of his curled mustaches. "Well, Calenbry? Get to work and make this right!"

  Jess stiffened at his tone, forcing herself to nod. “I will do my best, sir.” She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, placing her now naked hand against the base of the nearest tree.

  Hearing the hoot of owls, smelling the earthy scents of leaves decaying below and unfurling above. The cry of crickets. The shifting wings of a hawk, roosting nearby.

  “What the hell is she doing?”

  “Patience, Lance.” Eloquin himself uttering the words. Remarkably, Lord Hyve stilled his tongue after that, and Jess allowed herself to sink deeper into her sense of the forest. Feeling the whispers of the massive canopy rustling overhead.

  Its secrets, now her own.

  Jess opened her eyes and smiled. “Two miles ahead. An old trail our zealous slavers missed. No ambush points or traps lay in wait upon that trail like they do the first.”

  Eloquin nodded once, his small smile for Jess alone.

  “How by the saints could she possibly know that? How could anyone? I've never heard of an elementalist having any knack with woodlands before, let alone one with a warped, damaged gift.”

  Mord's grin was almost cruel. “'Tis much like a scent hound's gift, I suppose, my lord. Useful in the hands of a master who can put her to best use. She herself might lack the brains to excel at classes or best direct herself, able only to serve as a source of buffoonery and entertainment for our peers when she fails to heed my words. Yet in the hands of men who can mold her to best effect, much as General Eloquin has, then our Jess can truly shine.”

  "Mord, you will take that back!" Malek hissed, Jess herself speechless at the depth of her enemy's insult. He had done so little to taunt her since they began their journey, acting almost civil. But of course it served him best to catch her off guard, then strike with artful slander delivered as the most condescending of compliments, such that some might actually give the disparagement weight. And the way Lord Hyve was nodding almost thoughtfully, as if he too saw Jess not as a valued soldier in herself, but rather as a prized beast best steered by a firm master, sickened her twice over.

  Jess lowered her gaze, even as she trembled with fury.

  “I will tolerate no further slander of my student. Am I clear, Mord de Plaga?”

  Jess's frustrated fury was instantly quenched by the chill in her master's words.

  Mord's mocking smile wavered not in the least. He held the general's gaze for endless moments before bowing his head. “You know I have the utmost... appreciation for your favorite tool, General. I only state that our combined forces profit, with strong masters to guide her.”

  Mord's possessive gaze washed over Jess, leaving her feeling off balance and furious. More than one Squire whispered of alliances between clans and betrothals, and with a sickening lurch Jess realized that Mord had made no secret the claim his clan had made for her hand. Jess clenched her eyes shut in frustration. Just one more blow her most hated enemy had struck against her, assuring no boy or girl would dare to court her now.

  Jess speared Mord with a furious glare. His mocking smile for her alone. "I look forward to the revels, Jess, for then it shall be you and I alone."

  Jess snarled and spat at his words. "Then I shall refuse to attend them altogether."

  “Yes, well, enough of that,” Lord Hyve snapped. “Lady Calenbry, we are wasting time.”

  Jess took a deep breath, bowed her head so none may accuse her of disrespect, remounted a softly nickering Mercy, and without a word to anyone, headed for the trail at a trot.

  “Jess, wait up!” Too furious to respond, Jess pressed forward, taking small comfort in the presence she sensed trotting beside her, his crimson tinted orb providing a visible reference point for the others to use as a beacon, so none could fault Malek being by her side.

  “Bloody hells, that man's a snake,” Malek sympathized. “Don't pay him any mind, Jess. No matter the prestige he's accrued fighting by our side in these missions, Eloquin still sees him for the miscreant he is.”

  Jess shook her head. “To think, that slimy serpent has been whispering lies of our betrothal, as if I would entertain the idea of marrying that bastard for a second! No matter if she threatens to disown me, casting me out in the street with but a farthing to my name, if my mother actually thinks I will accept that vicious monster for a husband, she is misguided beyond all recovery."

  Malek sighed. “Mord truly is a jackanapes. And the way Hyve takes on, as if you were a bloodhound in truth. Gets under my skin, the both of them.”

  Jess chuckled softly. "Don't you dare let anyone else hear you say that. Eloquin's right. Best we choke down the bitter brew, no matter how galling, than let our arrogance cost us victory before battle is even joined."

  Malek nodded. “Far better a score of mocking Aspirants fighting by our side than being backed only by our pride.”

  Twilight chuckled softly. “Well said, Hound. For all that Mord is an arrogant ass, he does know his way around a blade.”

  Jess grinned at that, for all that her friend was, of course, oblivious to Twilight's commentary. “Come, the way through is right over here.”

  Malek's frown turned to a look of surprise as the thick, seemingly impenetrable underbrush that had taken over this part of the forest parted with Jess's gentle touch, the path before them obvious even to him.

  “Bloody hells, Jess, it's almost a corridor. Just, one in green. And the leaves, they seem almost to glow, like pearls and silver shimmering in the sea.”

  Jess grinned. “Moisture on their leaves is reflecting the moonlight.”

  Malek frowned. “Should it really be doing that?”

  “I won't tell if you won't.”

  Shortly thereafter the combined forces of Squires and Aspirants made their way down the shimmering tunnel of green, more than one student wearing identical expressions of awe as the silvery light washed over them. Once everyone was accounted for, Jess wasted no time taking the lead, she and Mercy slipping from the trail back through seemingly impenetrable foliage as easily as a ship parting a wave, emerging in the lead besides a frowning Lord Hyve and an inscrutable Eloquin.

  “How the hell do you pop in and out of the underbrush like that?” Hyve demanded.

  Jess shrugged. "It's just a knack, sir. Now if we proceed this way for the next few miles, we should emerge just at the outskirts of your demesne. With any luck, the bandits will have fortified themselves close to the wilds to best escape official notice, making it all the easier for us to take them unawares from cover. I recommend we hold off on making camp until we've arrived, leaving us in position to scout out the area before dawn and assure that our encampment cannot be spotted by our enemies."

  Hyve frowned at this, turning to Eloquin, who just smiled coldly back. “It makes sense because it is exactly what we would do without hesitation, did we have the youth and energy of students half
our age. Calenbry is no fool, my friend, unlike the man seeking to claim her.”

  Jess flushed, even as Twilight chuckled from her shoulder. “Well done. He managed to lance Mord and our rotund knight commander with the same barb. 'Tis obvious our dear Eloquin is worthy of his deliciously savage reputation. Of course, if he wasn't, we would have left Highrock for more interesting adventures, long ago.”

  Jess shivered as Eloquin allowed himself the smallest of smiles.

  No. He couldn't know.

  Jess shook her head and proceeded down the path, having managed to dodge Mord sufficient that he was behind the commanders, allowing her to ride in peace, and ready herself for the battle to come.

  7

  Report, Calenbry.”

  Jess saluted at Eloquin's curt command, eyeing their encampment, cleverly tucked in a slight dip in the forest's edge, the growth unusually thick where they had emerged, allowing excellent cover such that they were completely invisible from even a few feet away. And if any of the Squires or Aspirants had thought it at all odd to find themselves sheltering under lush foliage that so perfectly concealed them, resting upon a bed of leaves that kept weary bodies warm and dry without crackling in the least, no one said a word. Though the odd stares sent Jess's way, and worse, the smug grin Mord had worn, as if his prize hound had performed a neat trick, had made Jess more than eager to take point in scouting out the enemy.

  “Positive identification of slavers, sir. They are holed up in what looks to be a perfectly preserved fortress at least several centuries old by the design. There is no central wall, but the keep looks to be comprised of stout stone with arrow loops upon what would be the third floor.” Jess paused a moment, gazing coolly at a frowning Lord Hyve, absently tugging his mustaches once more. “There is a river twenty paces downslope from the keep, with a small wharf and several buildings at its closest point. The waterway cuts right into the forest less than half a mile downstream, and thus is highly discrete, and utterly disconnected from our main trade routes.”