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Squire of War

Page 8

by M. H. Johnson


  “Very good, Calenbry,” Lord Hyve began. “It is clear your odd knack serves you well as one of Eloquin's loyal scouts.”

  “Like the very best of bloodhounds, isn't she?” Mord flashed Jess a possessive grin. Jess's cold gaze paid him not the least attention, focused entirely upon a frowning Eloquin.

  “There are a dozen poorly dressed individuals in stockades beside the wharf, surrounded by men wearing standard issue infantry breastplates of boiled rawhide, half helms, and arming swords. There are a handful of spears in easy reach. I count exactly thirteen deserters outside the keep, with an unknown number within. They appear to be negotiating with a dusky skinned robed merchant of unknown nationality, accompanied by four pale skinned armsmen wearing chain hauberks, helmets, round shields, and falchions. Secured to the wharf is a boat of unknown design, though it implies that this river flows strong and deep for quite a ways... perhaps entirely hidden by the deepwood, until it spills into the sea itself.”

  Lord Hyve paled as Jess's report. “By the Goddess herself!” he hissed.

  Though she had spoken quietly so as not to carry, it had been clear enough that none of the Squires or Aspirants had missed the implications of Jess's words. Almost as one, they turned to gaze at an increasingly flustered Lord Hyve, pinning him with their stares.

  "I had nothing to do with this. Absolutely nothing!" Hyve swallowed, panicked expression turning to a furious scowl when he jutted his finger at Jess. "And I will not tolerate slander from a half-wit whose only redeeming virtue is a knack for the woodlands, the same as any wild beast!"

  Jess felt her cheeks flush hot, swallowing back bitter bile. To be so humiliated and shamed before scores of her peers, after doing all she could to secure their safe passage and give an honest assessment of the situation they faced, was more than she could stand. She clenched her fists tightly, ears still ringing from the cries of a dozen sobbing souls about to be sold downriver.

  “Calenbry.” Eloquin's voice. An icy call to discipline. At all times, in all places.

  Lord Hyve swallowed, flushed features facing the collective students. “What you have to understand is that we have not used this keep in generations. Once upon a time, my great great grandfather had quite a successful logging venture established upstream...”

  Jess blinked at this, turning to Eloquin. “But what about the Crown edict against logging in the deepwood?”

  “Silence, Calenbry.”

  A curt rebuttal. Jess flushed and looked away from Eloquin's disapproving gaze. Of course he was right. She was on brittle ice with Hyve where it stood, and the wood was quiet, old scars long since faded. The dozing forest was untroubled by Hyve's presence. It did not cry out for blood. Jess was a fool to risk antagonizing the man any further, reminding him of breaches committed generations ago.

  "As profitable as it was, there were heavy rains during the third year, and a spring flood washed away half the camp. A dozen lives were lost, according to the records." Hyve sighed. "It was discovered that the logging had washed away so much soil that the land could no longer properly hold back and drain the spring flash floods. Fearing for his grain and fruit groves, my ancestor closed the logging camp.”

  Hyve frowned, locking gazes with each of Eloquin's Squires as he spoke. “Floods have never troubled our lands since, and in truth, I had all but forgotten about this property. None of my clan have made use of this fortress out in the middle of nowhere for generations, my administrators having assured me long ago that the structure was properly sealed as my grandfather had left it, and had been left undisturbed for decades. Imagine my shock to find that not one of those fools had the courage to tell me that my ancestor's abandoned keep was now in the hands of our enemies!”

  Her personal feelings aside, the man was no fool, Jess thought. He knew that morale was everything. No matter his status and rank, it was far better to have the sympathy of students dedicated to wiping out banditry than for them to think for even a heartbeat that he was guilty of anything worse than trusting his advisers too well.

  Lord Hyve turned to Jess once more, regarding her carefully. “I assume during your reconnaissance you had the sense to find a route to the keep that is at least somewhat discrete?"

  Jess bowed her head. “Yes, Lance. Thirty feet to our left is a clear path at a gentle slope, leading right to their forces. No sheep or goats tend to the grass, so it has grown quite high. The ground also dips, thus we have excellent cover, should we approach by that route.”

  Hyve nodded. “Very good. I assume Eloquin trained you in the basics of scouting out traps or ambush points the enemy could use against us?”

  “Yes, sir. I sensed no significant disturbance in the land; there are no great pits filled with wooden spikes torn into the earth nearby, no spear traps waiting either, should we charge. But that is all I can say for sure.”

  “That's all you need to say, Calenbry. These are clearly a former lord's pikemen who chose to repay the lord's gracious training and care by betraying him in the most heinous means imaginable, preying upon his fellow serfs and freemen. An unforgivable act!” He glared down at Jess. “If we do not strike fast and hard, those bastards will flee right back into my keep! Tell me, Calenbry, did you see any sign of pitch, lye, or men manning the arrow loops on the third floor?”

  Jess shook her head. “No, sir. No smell of pitch or lye, no evidence of anything boiling or smoking besides a stew pot.”

  Hyve nodded. “Good. And I am sure I can count on you to protect us from arrow fire. You are that useful, at least.”

  Hyve locked gazes with Eloquin. “This is your specialty. I would have your counsel as well, Eloquin.”

  A bleak smile. “Jess has yet to fail in her duties as a scout, whenever the terrain involved woodlands. But this terrain is field as much as forest, and you and I both know that there are no guarantees in war.”

  Hyve glared hotly in the direction of the keep. “There never are. Let us cut these bastards down to the last man.”

  Eloquin frowned before giving a slow nod. “Very well. Calenbry, are you ready?”

  Jess found herself staring at Lord Hyve's flushing countenance, knowing at once that the man was both embarrassed and furious, and anxious to lash out at the men who had taken advantage of his lapse. A celebrated knight commander now seen to be unwittingly harboring slavers in the heart of his fiefdom, Hyve hungered for vengeance against the men who had shamed him before the world.

  Jess grimaced, heart racing with something very close to dread, her throat suddenly dry. She turned her gaze to Eloquin. “It's Twilight, sir. We have always waited for his counsel before. Though it's true I have given as thorough an accounting as I could, it never hurts to have a second pair of eyes out. Twilight is also scouting, and should be back shortly.”

  Lord Hyve blinked, his brows furrowing with impatience. "Twilight? We are not waiting 'til tomorrow evening to strike. We should do so here and now, without delay! If we wait another day, it will already be far too late for those poor souls below. They will be long lost to us, and we will never know who that damned flesh peddler is who thinks he can sneak into my lands and buy my serfs as if they were but chattel!"

  Mord's lips curved into a mocking smile. "Twilight is not a time, sir. It is Jessica's familiar. She claims it talks to her, from time to time."

  Lord Hyve's look of incredulity and outrage only grew. “Her familiar? Is she friends with imaginary beasts? Where is this talking beast, then? Let it address me, if there is such a thing!”

  Mord's grin widened. “That would be difficult, sir. It is invisible, after all. Is that not right, Jess?”

  Jess flushed and shrugged, knowing Mord enjoyed putting her on the spot.

  Lord Hyve's eyes flashed. “It would be dangerous to make an enemy of me, girl. Speak plainly, and none of your games!”

  Jess swallowed, standing straight at attention as she addressed the glowering commander. “Sir. My report is as accurate as I could make it. I saw thirteen slavers and four bo
dyguards belonging to the trader preparing to make off with what I fear might well be your own serfs, and I sensed no spike, spear, or pit traps when I got a sense of the land. Nothing wooden seeks to hinder us.” Jess took a deep breath. “But some assassins use traps of steel or tripwires, and as Master Eloquin always says, it is better to have two pairs of eyes out than one. And, well, Twilight went to look inside. Just in case.”

  Impatient eyes locked with Eloquin's own.

  “You may consider her eccentric, but she does not mock, and she is no fool.”

  Hyve grimaced. "By your words alone, Eloquin." He turned to Jess. "In all your missions, have you even once come across slavers or bandits who bothered with even the most basic infantryman's traps?" Hyve quirked an eyebrow. "Well, girl, have you?"

  Jess swallowed, her cheeks flushing hotly. "Well... not often, sir. It is just... I always take Master Eloquin's lessons seriously. Checking for traps and ambush points, no matter how slothful most slavers are, no matter that we almost always catch them in a state of surprise and terror, there is no reason for sloppiness, as the general says."

  Lord Hyve gave a satisfied nod. “It is good that you pay attention to your master's lessons. You have a knack for wood. We've all seen it. You detected no pikeman's traps, and you can counter any arrows launched from my keep. This is correct?”

  Jess bowed her head. “Yes, sir.”

  Hyve managed a grim smile. “Well, then. You have served us well enough. Forget your imaginary familiar, child. Focus on the real world, and you might just find that things go a bit easier in life. Now, enough of that. It is time to strike!”

  Jess caught Eloquin's gaze. He gave a slow nod.

  Jess dipped her head, understanding exactly what was being asked of her. “I feel strong. So long as our formation is tight, I can protect both wings from enemy arrow fire and spears both.”

  Eloquin nodded. "I expect no less. Jess, you take right flank, closest to the keep's arrow loops. Any fire should be aimed at your band. Neal, you will hang back, ready to assist as needed, with bows strung and ready to shoot any slavers that attempt to charge our flank or escape under partial cover. Position your men near the cluster of trees thirty paces from the keep entrance, ready to launch arrows or charge as needed. At that angle, you should be out of sight from anyone manning the arrow slits." Eloquin pointed down the elm dotted field they could now all clearly see, a handful of branches conveniently curling away, allowing the commanders and their seconds to view the field below.

  Neal saluted fist to chest, turning to his fellow Squires. “Left flank, string your bows. We're to provide support at my mark. Right flank, follow Jess's commands; spread out no more than thirty yards behind her. Twenty is better. If you have any questions, now's the time.”

  “Bloody bastards,” Malek muttered, once more by Jess's side, clearly able to see the slave auction below.

  A pale-faced Liam swallowed, gazing intently at Neal. “So we are really going to do it? Kill them, I mean.”

  Neal nodded solemnly. “This is what it means to be a Squire, Liam. I commend you for having the courage to answer Eloquin's call. Not everyone has the sand for this, and you just recently elevated to our ranks.”

  Lucas wrapped his friend's helm. “You'll be fine, knucklehead. I told you not to come unless you were ready. You're here, you're ready, you'll ride right beside me. Don't worry about a lance for your first charge. We're riding in tight formation, and this is the real thing." He turned to Jess. "What do you think?"

  Jess smiled, pleased to see that Lucas had so naturally taken Liam under his wing. She gazed at their newest member with a professional eye. "Liam's good with a saber, on horseback and on foot, and he cuts nearly as well as I do. Let's keep it simple. Liam, stick to saberwork. Their armor is infantry standard: A strapped iron half helm, and a breastplate of molded rawhide boiled in glue. Fair protection against pike thrusts and arrows fired at range, but it wasn't designed to counter cavalry because they don't expect anyone to break through a triple row of pike. No armor worth mentioning on their arms, cheeks, or necks." Jess smiled into Liam's anxious gaze. "Don't worry, my brother. This is your first blooding. Stick to saber, and saber alone. We will handle the rest, and Lucas has your back."

  “You’re damned right I do,” Lucas assured, clapping his friends' shoulder before grinning at Jess. “Now how about you make the rest us some bloody lances?”

  Jess smiled and nodded, gazing almost apologetically at the gently rustling trees. “Malek?”

  Her friend sighed but came along gamely enough, Jess sensing dozens of eyes upon her before slipping deeper into the forest, and within seconds it was just her and a strangely quiet Malek by her side, lush canopy rustling overhead, the rich scents of evergreen and wild blossoms permeating the air.

  After looping through the trees at seeming random for some moments, Jess abruptly stopped, bowing in reverence to the massive ash tree suddenly before them.

  “Bloody hells, that's a big tree,” Malek whispered, and Jess only smiled, feeling the gentle weight of leaves brushing her cheeks turning into the solid bounty of long thick branches caressing her fingertips, the gentlest of tugs pulling them free, and within moments Jess found herself beside an impressive bounty of wood, bright green leaves, bark, and scores of twigs coming off the main branches with each brush of her fingers. Before long, Jess had shaped as fine a collection of hardwood shafts as any warrior could want.

  Jess gently kissed the trunk of the great tree. “Thank you for your gifts, wise one. I shall make sure that at least one seed is planted in your honor for the bounty you have bestowed.”

  The leaves rustled gently in the nonexistent breeze.

  Malek chuckled softly, even as Jess weighed him down with shafts. “I swear, Jess, it's almost like the tree is having a conversation with you.”

  Jess just smiled, not saying a word.

  And when Jess returned a quarter hour later with Malek helping her to carry three score ash shafts, the hush falling over the entire group of students was almost a physical weight pressing against her.

  And still Twilight had not returned.

  Frowning, she quickly placed the steel spearheads Neal handed her upon the shafts before handing them to awed Aspirants, then to her fellow Squires.

  “It's much more a spear than it is a lance. It is not hollow, and it has no vamplate to protect your hand, but one is far easier to make at a moment's notice than the other. Don't worry, the spearheads are secure, and assuming you train in the charge with both, they will not fail you.”

  Lord Hyve himself gave an approving nod when he examined the spear Jess solemnly handed him, testing the spear tip, finding no flaw in the wood, the shaft tightly secured to the spearhead. "The spearhead is fastened as tightly as a man could want, with no time wasted heat-mounting or gluing the head to the shaft. Remarkable. Not quite as long as a true knight's lance, but... not bad, Calenbry. Not bad at all."

  Jess bowed her head. “Thank you, Lance.”

  Lord Hyve blinked, then smiled. "Time for battle code. Quite right." He turned to his Aspirants. "I find Calenbry's weapons to be worthy. Use these just as you would a charger's spear. They are not hollow, so will not break after punching through, so couch and release your weapons properly, for I will have no fractured wrists on our charge. Now let us scour this blight from our lands!"

  He turned to Mord who instantly saluted, fist to chest. “Per your orders, Lance, I shall lead our men to victory against your enemies.”

  Lord Hyve nodded approvingly. “I have no doubt of that, young Mord.” He turned to the Squires forming behind Jess. “All of you assigned to the right flank are to follow Mord's lead; fight as one, strike as one. Squire Neal will lead your left flank in providing cover fire as needed.” He turned to Jess. “No need to distress yourself overly, my dear. You did a commendable job leading us through the forest and providing us with suitable tools for our charge. Use your magics to protect us from arrow fire or spears, and you will ha
ve served your masters well.”

  Jess bit back the words she so hungered to say, wise enough to bow her head low enough that the lord before her couldn't see her expression. “No arrow will mark my brothers' flesh,” she said, Hyve smiling his approval at her sentiment, for all that Jess quite deliberately kept hold of one of the spears as she mounted.

  She turned to Malek, who nodded. “Lucas, Liam, and I all have our wards up, Jess. Those of us that can cast have done so, and good as we are with a blade, you know we can't cast worth a damn in the heat of battle.” He grinned ruefully. “Not yet, at least. Maybe one day.”

  Jess gave a tight nod. A couple of their closest friends back at Highrock, Alex and Jera, true prodigies, might just have what it took to cast in the thick of battle. Most did not. Even the most skilled elementalist would normally be protected by a coterie of shieldmen, giving them breathing room to cast, even if swept up in the tides of battle. Of course, most battlemages only struck from the periphery before darting away, much as mounted archers did, the king not being so foolish as to risk his wizards unnecessarily.

  Jess turned to the Squires behind her. “Squad ready?” Fists banged breastplates. “You heard Lance. Unity of purpose. In this engagement, follow Mord's commands as if they were my own.”

  Mord's fierce dark eyes locked with Jess's own. She felt a sudden surge of exhilaration, only now allowing herself to embrace the madness to come. “Cavalry, on my orders!” Mord barked.

  And with that, Jess and Mord led their fellows beyond the forest's edge, gazing down upon bandits and sobbing victims several hundred yards away.

  Their foes appeared oblivious as Mord and Neal moved their men, taking advantage of the high grass and the dip in the terrain that Jess had spotted to funnel themselves into position. Mord readied the Squires and Aspirants for the charge to come with a few quick hand signs all understood, gazing at the excited faces of fellow students and restive mounts with an experienced eye. They still remained hidden in silhouette by the trees just behind them, the morning sun blazing bright and glorious upon their backs.

 

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