It was easy to get tugged along by Countess Jocosa's enthusiasm. They scrubbed the road from their bodies with Quicksilver Hall's soap, scented with costly imported lemon, then climbed into the communal pool to soak all their aches out. Izzy got a few second looks, either for her scars or her unusual pallor, but at least nobody outright stared.
"We'll never be able to share dresses again," Jocosa said, while Izzy was checking to be sure Lee had cleaned the back of her neck and behind her ears. "We used to trade all the time! Here I've grown out and around and you've shot straight up!"
Siofra laughed. "My parents are tall; it was bound to happen."
"True." Jocosa sighed. "I didn't get an inch of my father's height. I always hoped I might. You can't wear mine, but have you got a pretty gown for dinner? You are the guest of honor."
"In my trunks."
Izzy and Lee shined their boots and dressed in their best tunics and breeches, unarmored with only their short swords. Lady Siofra was cloistered with Countess Jocosa and her handmaidens until the last moment, so Izzy was unprepared and knocked breathless when she floated out of Jocosa's rooms among them. Her dress was deep Greatbriar purple-red and cream and rich gold brocade to set her warm brown skin glowing. The neckline swooped to display the top curves of her small breasts with the bright glimmer of her moon pendant nestled between them. Her skirts flowed all the way to the floor, slender hips swaying as she swept them out ahead of her with her toe at every step. Izzy knew how difficult that trick was, especially when out of practice, but Lady Siofra did it as she was born to, head held high on her long, graceful neck. Her hair was up in an elegant knot at the back of her head, with a few loose curls escaping to tease at her shoulders, and the few flowers blooming in it were cream and gold to match her dress.
Lady Siofra looked every inch the future Duchess, flower magic taking her beauty that step beyond just as Izzy had known it would from the moment they met.
Her smile was the same as always, big and bright and free the moment she caught sight of Izzy and Lee. Izzy followed the group to the dining hall. Siofra clung to Jocosa's arm but didn't seem uncomfortable. Having a friend to hold on to probably helped.
Countess Jocosa had arranged the seating. Lee was with the nieces, who were a bit wide-eyed at her. Siofra and Jocosa cuddled close, sharing a plate. Izzy shared a plate with Mara, a handmaiden who didn't seem to know what to say. That suited Izzy. The Count of Quicksilver himself was seated on Jocosa's other side, watching everything with passive benevolence. It was clear who ran the household between the two of them.
Dinner was a fantastic affair. Countess Jocosa had not exaggerated when she promised a feast. Roast suckling pig was the centerpoint, rich and tender, with dozens of other dishes to complement it. Fine wines and cordials were served with each course. Izzy caught sight of Tom and Martel making friends at the servants' table on the other end of the hall. Their feast looked every bit as good as what was served at the high table, if less elaborate.
Countess Jocosa and Siofra talked all through dinner, laughing over their childhood exploits. "Siofra and I were betrothed to each other as infants," Jocosa explained to the table, letting them all in on the story.
"They didn't know I was a girl," Siofra interjected, tapping on her moon pendant with a fond smile for Jocosa.
"You were just a baby. They had no idea," Countess Jocosa agreed, threading her arm through Siofra's. "We were, what, eight when they told us we were betrothed? You'd already figured out you were a girl and told everyone."
"I was seven; you were eight," Lady Siofra confirmed. "Getting married sounded like a wonderful idea at the time!"
"Oh, absolutely!" Jocosa agreed. "I thought marrying my best friend was going to be perfect. We were going to have the loveliest dresses and the best parties and be the prettiest girls in the Kingdom together. Then..." Jocosa laughed. "We got a little older, and I just don't love girls that way."
Siofra nodded, squeezing her arm. "I want a marriage of love too, when I marry. Not a friend, no matter how dear."
Jocosa turned and kissed her Count's cheek, beaming at him, before she turned back and nuzzled noses with Siofra. "You flew into a rage and nearly tore down the south wing of Greatbriar Castle. If you hadn't, I don't think our parents would have let us break their promise!"
Siofra covered her mouth with her hand, embarrassed. "Not on purpose," she protested. "We decided we didn't want to marry, and they kept insisting we had to. The trees and vines tearing into the palace just happened when I got angry. I've learned control, since."
"I'm glad you lost control then, for both our sakes," Countess Jocosa bumped against Siofra's shoulder and smiled. "We're better as sisters. But then they sent you away to the Forestyne."
"I needed them," Lady Siofra promised earnestly. "These years have been good to me."
"And me," Jocosa said. "I love my Count and I love Quicksilver." She stood, ringing her cup with her knife for silence. "To old friends returned, and to County Quicksilver, finest in the Kingdom!" she toasted, to cheers.
The feast lasted hours, and there were minstrels afterward with songs and poetry. Afterwards, Izzy was herded to Countess Jocosa's rooms with Lady Siofra and the handmaidens. There was giggling and storytelling and candied fruits to nibble as they all lazed on the big feather-bed, and one of the handmaidens had a new beau that the rest must tease about, so it was late in the night when Izzy finally managed to sleep.
*~*~*
The week at Quicksilver Hall went quickly. Countess Jocosa was a generous host, and there were entertainments every day. Izzy and Lee put on a demonstration of jousting and mounted fighting to much cheering and delight.
Izzy made friends with Wilhem, captain of the guard for Quicksilver Hall. He offered Izzy and Lee training with his guards, and they accepted gladly. Izzy taught a few of the shorter guards the advantages of a low center of gravity and left them better fighters for it.
Izzy and Wilhem sparred on foot and fought each other to a standstill. He was a canny fighter, wiry and strong and experienced. They were both exhausted when they called the match as a draw.
"Not bad, for fighting against a fully trained knight!" Wilhem praised himself as they got water to cool their parched throats.
Izzy flashed her teeth. "Meet me on a horse."
Wilhem held up both hands in defeat, laughing. "You have me there, Ser. I would not face you mounted." He downed his cup, then poured another over his head and shook like a dog. He leaned closer to Izzy with a small smile, voice gone quiet, "Though, if you wanted to meet somewhere more private—"
Izzy laughed, shaking her head. "Men are not for me."
Her eyes traveled to the ladies across the courtyard, sitting in the shade with embroidery and snacks, conveniently placed to admire the guards at practice. Lady Siofra stood at their rear in her plain brown Forestyne shift, her hands on a wizened old apple tree. Where she touched it blossomed white and pink, its leaves glowing like jade.
Wilhem's smile was wide when Izzy pulled her eyes away. She punched his arm, feeling her face heat, but that only served as confirmation and he laughed as he danced back. "I see," he teased. "Will our fair knight win her lady's favor and carry her colors into glorious battle? Will you sing below her window from evening till dawn?"
"I'm no troubadour," Izzy protested. She flicked water at Wilhem before she took a second cup to drink, but her fingers reached up to fondly trace a fingertip around the buckthorn still bright green at her armor's left shoulder. It was no lady's colors; it was Lady Siofra's own magic woven to protect her.
It was better than colors, with no expectations attached.
Countess Jocosa hosted a ball for Lady Siofra on the final night of their visit. Lady Siofra was dressed in a long deep green gown with trailing sleeves, shot through with white and silver, and absolutely shone. She kept close to Countess Jocosa and a few particular handmaidens, but Izzy thought she was enjoying herself.
Izzy partnered Lee for the first dance.
Then Jocosa begged Izzy's hand for a stately pavane, and Izzy could not deny the lady of the house the honor. "Thank you so much for looking after my dear Siofra," Jocosa said, smiling as they bowed.
"It is my duty, and my honor," Izzy answered.
Wilhem asked her for the next, but they both tried to lead and stepped on each other's feet. Having disgraced themselves on the floor, they retired to hold up the wall and keep watch. Lee danced with Countess Jocosa's young relations, brilliantly, with shouting and leaps.
It was late when Lady Siofra swept over to Izzy, curtsied, and held out a hand. Izzy's only possible answer was to bow and put her hand in Siofra's to be led back to the dancing. Siofra stepped with presence and elegance, and Izzy tried her best to match her.
"I'm glad we could stay here," Siofra said.
"As am I," Izzy agreed. It had been a good rest for all of them. "You've done well in a court again."
"Jocosa made it easy for me." Siofra shook her head. "I have to get better. A duchess mustn't panic among people."
Izzy shrugged, parting ways as the steps of the dance demanded and then returning to Siofra's hands. "My older brother does well enough, though he'll only be a Baron. You find ways to cope."
Siofra laughed, bright and surprised, white flowers in her hair blushing faintly pink. "Izzy, always cutting to the heart. You always know what to say."
That wasn't true. Izzy was never much good with words. But it warmed her that Siofra would think so.
*~*~*
It was a relief to Izzy when they were back on the road again, as pleasant as the visit at Quicksilver had been. It was good to be moving. The road to Gryphon's Pass was long and steep, and they traveled fewer miles each day than on the flats, but the weather was good and Izzy had accounted for the terrain. Only a few small caravans had come through earlier this spring, but they reported that the road was clear and in adequate repair.
The air in the mountains was chilly, and everyone wrapped up in their warmest wool cloaks at night and huddled close to the fire in camp at wayfarers' points. Lady Siofra continued barefoot on the rough stone path.
The pass was above the treeline, between two peaks someone once thought resembled gryphons, hence the name. Izzy didn't see it herself. They moved as quickly as they could, hoping to be through before nightfall. There were still drifts of dirty snow in the rocks, though the road itself was almost clear.
Izzy signaled a halt, cold in the pit of her stomach, as they neared the highest point of the pass. "Squire, with me," she called. Lee rode up, and Izzy asked, "What do you smell?"
"Oh, I've been smelling lots of things today," Lee said lightly. "Sweaty horses, ox patties, my own armpits—"
"Lee!" Izzy warned.
Lee sobered, dropping her arm. She sniffed deep at the cool crisp air, and then wrinkled her nose. "Billy goat?" She hazarded. "No... something rotting."
"Ice troll," Izzy said. Lee grinned. Tom and Martel had the sense to be nervous. The horses stamped and the oxen tossed their heads, smelling the troll more keenly than a person could. It shouldn't have been this far down the mountain, with so much snow gone. "It'll want the horses or the oxen, if it comes out. Weapons in your hands and eyes open for white fur. Lady Siofra, I would prefer you in the wagon."
"I'm not helpless," Siofra protested. "I need my feet on the ground."
"Magic doesn't work against trolls." Izzy affixed the standards to the wagon and went inside, but Lady Siofra was still on her feet when Izzy emerged with her glaive and Blaze's armor.
"Keep very close to the wagon, if you won't ride in it," Izzy instructed. "Get in if there's trouble." It was the best she could do, if Siofra refused to believe her. "Please," she added, and Siofra finally nodded in agreement
Tom had a quiver of arrows on his back and perched on top of the wagon for the longest view. Martel checked her crossbow. Lee helped Izzy armor Blaze for battle—head, chest, and flanks protected—and they fitted Thunder in turn. Then there was nothing left but moving forward and hoping the ice troll had gone.
They went through the pass as quickly as the oxen could manage, Lee and Izzy riding close beside the wagon. The stench of troll thickened as they went, and they saw tufts of stringy white fur caught on rough rocks and bushes. Izzy pointed those out to Lee, so she would learn the signs.
"Up ahead!" Tom called, just before Izzy spotted the lump of gray-soiled fur to the side of the road. It was a small one, horse-high at its hunched shoulder, probably male.
"Rear guard," Izzy ordered Lee, settling her glaive in her grip. She sent Blaze into a canter, focus narrowing to her horse's surging power, her weapon, and her target. "For the Winter Star!" Izzy bellowed. She was loud and fast as she charged, but the troll did not turn and flee as she'd hoped. It reared on its short, powerful legs, long arms lifting overhead, roaring a challenge in return.
Blaze, bless her, did not shy. Izzy drove her past the troll, glaive slicing into its unprotected side in passing. It shrieked, injured and furious, and Izzy wheeled Blaze around for another pass.
The troll charged, gathering speed. Good, that would add power to her strike. Izzy settled the butt of the glaive in her armpit, lowering it across Blaze's neck. Her hips pressed against the cantle, her boots solid in her stirrups. The troll reared up to hit Blaze, ignoring Izzy entirely, and Izzy ran it through. The weight of it hit the crosspiece of the glaive, ran up the weapon into Izzy's shoulder, passed through her and into the horse, and together they ran the troll into the ground.
Izzy dropped the weapon and Blaze danced them away from the troll's dying struggles. It wheezed, clawing at the glaive as it weakened, fur staining deep red.
Izzy stretched her bruised shoulder and breathed. The world opened up around her: Lee and Tom and Martel cheering the victory, the animals still nervous. The scent of blood wasn't calming them.
"Lee, help me finish it." Izzy dismounted, gesturing Lee over for a quick lesson. Lee dismounted eagerly. "Use your poleaxe. Don't get close. Swing hard, under its jaw." Izzy mimed the angle for the blade, and Lee followed through beautifully.
"Well done," Izzy praised, and stepped onto the twitching corpse to pry out her glaive. She had just set her hand on the weapon, taken breath to tell Lee a troll's weaknesses, when there was a scream: Lady Siofra and Boots in terrified harmony. Izzy's head jerked up. Boots snapped her tether as she bolted; the oxen fled with the wagon. Lady Siofra stood alone. A second troll was attacking from behind.
It was a third larger than the first, likely female, and furious. A breeding pair—no wonder they were hunting below the snow.
"Lee, flank!" Izzy shouted, swinging up on Blaze and drawing her sword. It was not the best weapon, with its short reach, but it was the one she had at hand. Blaze charged. She knew what to do even as Izzy struggled for her stirrups. Izzy was still off balance as they passed Lady Siofra, but she aimed for the troll's neck. A good hit might finish it.
She was not lucky; she was far too close. The troll flinched away and Izzy's blow opened only a shallow gash along its shoulder. Its arm shot out and smacked Izzy's chest. She was airborne for a brief moment, sword flying out of her hand, and then she landed rolling in the rocks.
Izzy surged back to her feet unthinking. She saw her sword, grabbed it, and ran toward the troll. Blaze reared and struck at the troll with her hooves; it turned on her and the mare fled. Lady Siofra was still screaming. Vines sprouted at her feet only to wither away. Izzy had to get between her and the troll.
Tom's light hunting arrows sprouted in the troll's fur, but even so, it turned piggy eyes on Izzy and roared. Izzy roared back and charged.
She was small as a squirrel beside the troll's mass, but this squirrel was steel-plated and vicious. The troll tried to sweep her away, but Izzy ducked under its arm, sword slashing up. Her left arm hung behind, but she ignored that. The troll barked, smashing its other fist down. Izzy dodged, struck at that arm too, then swung at the troll's face.
The troll surged forward, its mass inescap
able as it head-butted Izzy to the ground. Her helmet rang, deafening against the rocks, and her vision swam. The troll's teeth scraped Izzy's breastplate, and it reared up to bring its fists down again. Izzy kicked up with both feet, slamming them into its throat.
The troll gagged, coughing, and behind it Izzy caught sight of Lee—face alight with ferocious joy as she brought her mace down on the back of the troll's head.
It collapsed on Izzy, crushingly heavy, and she struggled to get free. It exhaled hot and foul against Izzy's neck—not dead, just unconscious.
"IzzyIzzyIzzy!" Lee was babbling, armored hands prying Izzy away from the troll. "Goddess please don't let Izzy be hurt."
"I'm fine," Izzy growled, and now Siofra was there too. She grabbed Izzy's left arm to help pull, and Izzy screamed through her teeth as daggers shot through her shoulder. Siofra released Izzy's arm with a gasp.
"That's out of socket," Lee said, face grim.
"Yep," Izzy agreed. It certainly felt like that. Tom arrived and with Lady Siofra's help shifted the troll, so Lee could pull Izzy free. Izzy looped her right arm around Lee's neck and came tenuously to her feet. Her head spun. She spotted her sword and dropped Lee to cling to a rock, pointing to the blade.
"Kill the troll," Izzy said. "It's still breathing." Then she curled over to the side and threw up. The spasms racked her aching body. Everything hurt, but a few things were starting to hurt louder now that Izzy was paying attention to them. Her dislocated left shoulder, her ribs badly bruised at the least, and her pounding head. There was only so much protection a helmet could offer, and Izzy had cracked her head before.
Lee drove Izzy's sword between the vertebrae of the troll's neck. Tom and Lady Siofra came to fuss over Izzy. "Where does it hurt?" Tom asked, and Izzy barked a short laugh, ending on a hiss as the motion aggravated her ribs.
'Everywhere' wasn't a useful answer. "Head, shoulder, ribs. Lots of bruises," she managed.
"Let's get you to the wagon. Martel won't have let the oxen get far," Tom said. Izzy nodded and got her arm around his shoulders to steady herself.
Heart of Steel Page 17