Squire of War

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Squire of War Page 40

by M. H. Johnson


  He chuckled softly. “Master Eloquin knows me all too well, of course. So he took my story at face value and said that I was obviously sorely in need of polishing my grappling skills, so made quite an example of me in front of a few score of cheering youths and Hatsk himself, who Eloquin made sit up and watch the lesson, for all that the man has a cracked rib, and was glaring at Eloquin like he’d hang our general himself, if he could. And no matter that the Healers Wing mended broken bones as well as any group of healers used to treating men of war, enough rumors are floating around that I know it had been in a cast, not that long ago. And good on Eloquin for taking down that bastard a couple of pegs, daring to raise a hand against my shieldsister!"

  Jess blushed and looked at her feet. Malek clapped her back.

  “Anyway, Eloquin did his best to hone my skills in the most excruciating way possible, declaring the lesson done only when I was an exhausted, groaning heap.”

  Jess winced. “Anyone mock you for your loss?”

  Her friend chuckled. “Are you kidding? All I got was applause that I lasted so long, that I kept getting up after each throw. I must be improving, I actually got a few licks in myself, but far and away everyone was gazing at Eloquin in awe and no small amount of fear. I swear, Jess, the way he moves, I’m not even sure he’s entirely human.”

  Jess grinned. “I’ve sometimes wondered if perhaps he is a Delver. He is so damned fast, and never tires, even as he goads Hyve from time to time, and Eloquin is no spring chicken.”

  Malek nodded. “But he doesn’t look old at all, either. Not even middle-aged. He’s sort of...”

  “Timeless?”

  Malek dipped his head. “Exactly.”

  Jess shook her head. “I know I’m nothing like I was when we first became Squires of War, neither my brother nor father are anything close to a match, but Eloquin? He really is in a league all his own.”

  Malek drunk deep of the flask she had passed him, giving a relieved sigh. “Thank you for the moment’s respite, shieldsister. Now on to what really matters. Did you find any trace of the children in the woods?”

  Jess gave a grim shake of her head. “No. But it was definitely foul play, not just children running off to do mischief. And I think, perhaps, I might have a clue as to who the guilty party is. But we must act with all haste. Evening is fast approaching, and if any other children were to go missing, night is when our enemies would strike. I need your help for our next step. I fear I would be shouted out of the baths entirely if I approached as a supplicant, as heated baths are considered more of a privilege than a right, particularly the nobles’ baths.

  Malek’s eyes widened. “Thank the gods you found a lead, Jess. None of the keep staff or students I approached know anything, for all that a few teased my bumps and bruises. I talked with Raphael, Josie, even Alex, and they have nothing. Poor Alex, he looked downright flustered, saying that there’s no good elemental magics for tracking down a missing person.”

  Malek chuckled. “If heading to the baths will help us track down the culprit, by all means. I could certainly use a good soak.”

  At as rapid a pace as their legs could take them, utterly oblivious to the hostile stares that normally cut her to the quick, Jess made her way to the sounds of conversation and laughter and no small amount of splashing so characteristic of the common baths at this time of day. She felt a smile soften her features despite her worries and care. For all that she made do with bucket and rag, she was dying for a good soak.

  “Get out of here, supplicant, and crawl back to your quarters, lest you’d have me beat you for insolence,” said the glaring proctor seeming to stand guard before the baths themselves.

  Jess frowned, recognizing the grim-faced man, having accompanied the head proctor himself from the capital after poor Walter had died. Thinning strands of oily hair did nothing to beautify his hard, craggy face. He had the build of a former soldier, his hostile stare declaring everyone his foe.

  Malek frowned. “Why is a proctor standing watch over the baths?”

  The man furrowed his brow. “As if it was any concern of yours, student. If you’re not here to bathe? Piss off, lest you’d have me report you.”

  Malek’s gaze hardened.

  “What we mean to say is that not so long ago it was the keep staff that manned these baths. We never troubled our proctors over it," Jess explained.

  The proctor glared at Jess, cracking his nuckles. “Times change, supplicant. The bitch who manned these baths before fell asleep when lords required her services.” He sneered. “She got the whipping she deserved and was sent packing, never mind her pleas.”

  Jess clenched her fists at that. “You mean to tell me that she was whipped the way I was and exiled? Left in agony to fend for herself?”

  Cold eyes met her own, lips worming into a cruel smile. His hot-eyed contempt burned into her. Gleeful hate that seared to the bone. In that moment, Jess knew all the awful things he would do to her, given half a chance. The terrible things he had done to more than one sobbing chambermaid, afraid even to gaze at a man without flinching, too terrified to say a word.

  The things he had done to the poor girl after she had been whipped, howling and pleading. In one horrific epiphany Jess saw it all, through the malice of his gaze.

  “That’s right, supplicant.” He spat at her feet. “She cried a fair bit, even begged. Hatsk likes it when they beg. Didn’t make a difference, of course. Just made my master whip her all the harder.” His laughter was cruel. “Nothing more than a supplicant’s robe for her as well, and no reason to trouble the healers, gutter trash like that getting its just desserts. If she’s lucky, she’s landed herself a job at the doxy house in town, though I’ll bet it’s nothing but agony, pleasing men after what we did to her.”

  His twisted smile widened. “Come to think of it, you’re forbidden from even approaching the baths. And you know it, don’t you, girl? You came here knowing there would be discipline for you.” He tutted mockingly, glaring at Malek “Leave, student! The supplicant must be appropriately punished. You will be whipped too, if you don’t leave immediately.”

  He grabbed Jess’s arm, panting, a strange hunger in his eyes. “Come, supplicant! It is time for your whipping, so richly deserved.” A hot whisper as he tightened his grip upon her left arm. “You crave it, don’t you, girl? The hot sting of the whip, other torments as well. Don’t deny it, I can see it in your eyes. You won’t be the first girl I’ve disciplined in this school. You hunger to tremble before your betters. And tremble you will, supplicant, when I’m done with you.”

  Corridor empty. Laughter and shouts but feet beyond.

  “Jess, control...” Her familiar’s voice, tinny and faint.

  Her shieldbrother gazing at her so strangely. Moving so slowly.

  Only then did Jess note the proctor’s gloating had turned to awful gurgles. Features purpling, grasping his shattered throat.

  The sting of sharp pain to her middle knuckles, having twisted free of his grip, darting low, spearing his larynx as fast as he could blink. A blow hard trained, her foe’s chin so high and haughty, sneering down at her.

  Her strike delivered with a killer’s practiced ease.

  Just as Eloquin had taught.

  The proctor coughed and wheezed, slipping to the ground.

  Malek’s gaze one of wide-eyed horror.

  And all Jess felt was a terrible, hideous fury. Her mind still on fire with the poor girl’s desperate screams, whip scoring flesh and muscle, shrieks to no avail, no master to stop those furious blows.

  Then this beast had raped her.

  The man gurgled, feet kicking the tile stones, hands clawing desperately at his throat, bloody foam dribbling from his lips.

  “Jess!” Malek’s panicked cry.

  Heart racing, bolt of terror coursing through her. She had just -don’t think it, never think it, focus on the moment, only this moment- Linen closet just inside, no good. Constantly used.

  “Jess, over here!�
� Malek, bless his fiercely protective soul. He knew her gifts, all too well. “This room here. Storage, abandoned since they now just stack those towels inside the baths. Let’s hurry!”

  Jess gazed at the dying man, gazing at her, terror in his eyes, bloody pinpricks growing, gurgling desperately for breath that would not come.

  “Hurry, Jess, now! Students are coming around the corner!” Twilight’s voice, compelling her to action.

  She exchanged a panicked glance with her brother-in-arms. As one they heaved and lifted up the struggling man, his pleading wheeze choking forth, eyes widening in dying hope, before being roughly thrown into the abandoned room, the pair darting in after and shutting the door so quietly as students hooting and hollering could be heard making their way to the baths.

  Jess touched the door, weathered oak, centered by its soothing presence, desperately trying not to think about the man gurgling his last, only inches away.

  Jess collapsed to her knees. Trembling still. “Oh gods, Malek, what did I just do?”

  Powerful arms held her tight. “Shh, shieldsister. Don’t think about it. Not even for a moment. He was a right piece of filth, and got what he deserved.”

  Jess sobbed once, a terrible, horrid weight on her chest, somehow knowing the instant the man expired.

  “Jess? I think the coast is clear. Come on, Jess, we have to leave.”

  The sharp sting of her familiar’s claws. “Oww!”

  “Hurry, Jess,” Twilight hissed. “You have moved your piece. So be it! Only a fool would let regret doom her before the gambit has played out. Investigate as you can, then back to your quarters. We can finish up later, as time permits.”

  Jess gulped for the words, Malek allowing her no more time, his powerful hand grabbing her arm, yanking her back on her feet, his careful eye checking for telltale signs, brushing the knees of her robe before pulling it off and tucking it under his shirt, skillful enough to spread it so it looked like nothing more than a paunch, his shoulders naturally wide enough to carry it off without looking absurd.

  “For what comes next, we need to look the part of respectable students. At least you had the sense to put on tunic and hose underneath. You don’t look perfect, but you’re still better dressed than any commoner.” Nodding once, Malek opened the door, and they were out in the main hallway once more, trembling for breath.

  Malek shook his head. “You play for keeps, Jess, I give you that.” He gazed at the door. “Time to do what you do best.”

  Jess bit back hot tears, pleading to the door to keep her terrible secret. And such a hot relief it was, to sense the peaceful love it filled her with, as if but an echo of all the grand forests of Erovering. It judged her not at all, life and death both having their place in the great forest, nurturing the roots which in turn fed the trees blossoming with such sweet fruit for all the creatures of earth and air.

  The tiniest of requests, instantly granted, and Jess near crumpled, flooded with relief and shame in equal measure.

  Twilight bowed his head. “Well done, mistress, though how anyone will explain the oak tree blossoming through the window slits is beyond me.”

  Jess trembled a nod. “But by that time, a certain unfortunate proctor will be...”

  “Mulch, loam, a few bone fragments belonging to any creature at all.”

  Jess nodded, gazing at her worried friend.

  “All right, shieldbrother, let’s find some damn clues before another child goes missing.”

  Malek nodded. “Sounds good. What exactly are we looking for?”

  “A drinking flask,” Jess said as they entered the steamy baths, catching sight of a well-dressed servant, frightened eyes now glancing her way. So, there were attendants besides the former surly bastard after all, Jess thought. She did her best to smile, as if nothing were amiss.

  “May I help you, my lady?” The young brunette quickly asked.

  Jess smiled and nodded. “There had been a bath lady here, just a few days ago? Always so kind, assisting me in the nobles’ baths, never forgetting my favorite snacks or drink, or to rub my shoulders with the proper oils. I heard a rumor that the royal baths had snatched her up, and I wanted to make sure my favorite was still on staff.”

  The brunette trembled, brown eyes going wide. “Do you mean Sella? Is that where she went? Oh, we’ve been so worried about her! One of the nasty proctors said that she was a disgrace and left the keep in shame, but that didn’t sound like Sella to me. She’s about as sober a girl as any you could meet. I know lords drink wine with every meal, but Sella only drinks table ale like any proper merchant or craftsman. It fills the belly and sates the thirst, and you never get sick from it, but hardly any giddies at all, if you catch my meaning.”

  Jess smiled. “Suitable for the soberest merchant or student. I’ve had many a small beer myself with my fare, though I prefer a good Calenbry Red in the evening.”

  The brunette, relieved, nodded. “Rumors of her being a drunk are right cruel. Blessed Highrock is different, but any laborer from the city knows water is not really safe to drink. Small beer is safer, and that awful proctor implying she’s a drunkard was being right cruel.”

  “I quite agree. Sella has always been exemplary in her care of me. I don’t suppose you know where her things are kept? Perhaps I can find traces of an invitation, and we can make sure there is no truth to the proctor’s cruel rumors.”

  The brunette frowned, pausing only to hand several fresh towels to chatting students happily paying Jess and Malek no mind, before waving Jess to follow her to a niche in the rear of the grand domed chamber, with a number of hardwood alcoves.

  “That is her hutch, my lady,” she said, pointing to the farthest one on the bottom left.

  Without hesitation Jess crouched and began sifting through the contents, hands trembling as she found what she sought.

  Jess stood to her feet once more, showing the girl the flask. “This is Sella’s, I presume?”

  The girl shrugged, “It looks like any other to me. It was with her stuff, as you can tell. No note, I take it?”

  Jess gave a sad sigh. “No, I’m afraid not,” she said, too quick hands pulling out several coppers before the startled girl could blink, placing them in the girl’s hot palm before she could say a word in protest. “You’ve been a dear, and it looks like I might just need to find a new bathing attendant who serves me as well as Sella did.”

  The girl blushed and smiled, puzzlement fading to a hunger to please. “I will certainly do my best, my lady. My name is Francine. Besides knowing the best cheeses and wine for the baths, I’m also a fair hand at massages, easing away cramped muscles for any soldier after a hard day’s training, and I would be happy to take care of your needs, the next time you stop for a soak.”

  Jess grinned. “Excellent, Francine. Duty calls, but when next I have leisure for a hot bath, perhaps I will take you up on that offer.”

  The girl bowed as they parted, Malek flashing Jess a grin. “Well played, shieldsister. Suspicion averted with the hopes of earning coppers from an eccentric, generous patron. And she a pretty enough girl. Don’t think I failed to notice how you eyed her. Did we find what we sought?”

  Jess shrugged. “Let’s get back to my quarters. I don’t want to be seen meditating over a flask in public, particularly in my current state of disgrace. Speaking of which…”

  Malek smiled, looking both ways and making sure the hallway was empty, slipping Jess’s robe over her head once more with a flourish.

  Jess chuckled softly, and before she knew it she was back in her quarters once more, bowing over the flask even as Malek looked on.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep sniff. Tasting traces of barley, yeast, a mixture of delectable spices common in the finer ales before shuddering abruptly, dropping the flask with trembling hands.

  “Jess?” Malek, gazing at her with such concern even as she hissed, fists clenched and shaking. It was good she had waited to be back in her quarters. More than ever, she needed cont
rol. When she let her rage get the best of her, the results could be horrific.

  Even if well deserved.

  “She was drugged. Poor Sella was deliberately drugged. Extract of nodgrass. Potentially toxic, in small quantities herbalists and healers use it to cure the most severe forms of insomnia. I smell it on the flask, Malek.”

  She turned to gaze at her solemn faced friend. “It’s time I told you everything.”

  A short time later Malek gazed about in fury, fists clenched as tightly as Jess’s has been. “Those bastards threatened Sable and her child?”

  Jess nodded. “Their comments had been rife with innuendo, but Twilight made it clear that Sable and Liam had very much been in peril, and their hunters very much planning to kill Julia, should they catch her. Fortunately, they won’t be a problem any more. I have it on excellent authority that Liam and Sable are quite safe, now.”

  “Thank the gods,” Malek said.

  “Indeed. And it was Sella who had been Sable’s bath attendant at the time, completely lost in her cups, or so it had seemed. But if this truly is her flask, and nodgrass was added to the brew used to drug her, and Glist, Ubel’s henchmen, just happens to be a skilled brewer… I think the conclusion is obvious.”

  Malek scowled. “And poor Sella. When she should have been delivered to the healers, she was instead accused of drunkenness and whipped within an inch of her life, cast out, and for all we know, dead in a ditch of exposure and infection.” He locked gazes with Jess, smiling bleakly. “The more I learn, the less I regret punching that bastard Hatsk as hard as I could.”

  Jess smiled grimly. “I heard the rib crack, as did a few Aspirants, applauding the fool’s collapse. He cared nothing about the truth, was just glad to have a pretext to torment and destroy that poor woman, caught up in the machinations of another.”

  Malek caught her gaze. “And that proctor… he really did those things?”

  Jess shuddered. “You heard what he was whispering. So hungry to dominate, he was about to accost me before your very eyes. A predator with no control over his own twisted passions. How many girls has he hurt here at Highrock already? Girls who will never come forward?”

 

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