by S E Zbasnik
A hand reached over, the barely knotted on bracer slipping down to knock into her knuckles before Gavin tugged it away. Hayley’s breath paused and she realized she’d been panting in fear, her lips tingling from the sudden outburst of air. Her swollen eyes darted up to her knight and he said in a cooling voice, “Focus on the now, Squire. Worrying on the later helps no one.”
“Yes.” She nodded her head, strapping on the vambrace and moving for the pauldron. “This is so stupid.” Her eyes screwed up tight as she chattered to herself. All around she heard the other squires strapping in their knights, most finishing quickly. Lines of glinting men and women astride horses burst out of the tent-line. It looked like falling stars shooting not from the sky but across the land, each streaking towards the castle and their eventual doom.
“I’m going to die. I’m gonna die, and the last thing I see is that damn vulture chewing my eyeballs out because I don’t know anything and I shouldn’t even be here. It’s all stupid. This is stupid. This shouldn’t…”
She didn’t realize she’d been speaking aloud until the now-armored hand landed flat on her back. Gavin scooped up his helmet and slipped it into the crook of his arm. His steady breath whipped through the night’s indigo sky. “Remain here, Squire,” was all he said.
Digging a sabaton into the stirrup, Gavin hoisted himself onto Gringolet’s armored back. Hayley tried to help, her hands pressing into the cool metal of his back before both fell limply to the side. After adjusting himself, Gavin slid on the helmet rendering his face to nothing more than a long slit near the eyes. His soft, breathy voice echoed out of the bucket as he ordered, “You are not ready for this.”
“But,” Hayley glanced over to the poleax he insisted she hold every other time, “don’t you need me for…” Her words faded as her brain’s screaming at her to shut up grew louder. He was giving her a way out, bloody well take it.
Gavin drew his hand to the sword dangling off his belt. After getting a feel for it, he said only, “Wait here,” and spurred Gringolet on. The white horse and brown rider both gleamed brighter than any silver spoon, causing Hayley to gasp. Like a minnow leaping into a stream, he joined with a school of other knights and she realized there was no chance she could spot him again. Not from the battlefield, not unless he removed his helmet. And he’d only do that if…
Her nose scrunched up, the thought of them all piled together like fertilizer flashing through her mind. All around, the other squires were giving chase after their masters. The people who’d invited her beside the fire were waving their weapons aloft and screaming at the top of their lungs. How many of them wouldn’t live to see the sunrise?
Stop caring. Stop thinking. Stop doing anything. He said for her to stay there. That was where she should stay, safe. Removed. And if he died because she wasn’t at his side handing off what he needed next?
How would she know? Not as if someone would come tromping back from the battlefield to accuse her. Probably. She’d just have a dead man on her conscience is all. What was another one? What did it matter? No one ever cared about her, no reason for her to start…
To begin…
“Damn it!” Hayley cursed. Snatching up the poleax, she broke into a run chasing after her knight into the pits of hell themselves. Most of the squires were already ahead of her, nothing but leathered backsides greeting Hayley as she tried to scrabble up the dug apart hill.
Dew slicked the churned mud, nearly sending Hayley skittering back to the ground below, but she lashed out with the end of the pole and resumed her climb. Staggering under its power, when she reached the crest of the hill, all breath in her body fled. Dozens upon dozens of armored knights sat bolt upright in their saddles. Not a single voice spoke, no horse whinnied, no one scratched at an itch, or shook their head. They all remained as still and certain as statues, every formless face turned towards the silent castle.
A great chill wrapped around Hayley’s body as she punctured through the back of the lines of soldiers. Some of the stern eyes darted to her, but no one wanted to break the tension, to knock some sense into the lost squire lest it start a chain of events no one could stop. Perhaps by the full light of the sun, Hayley could have spotted her knight, but with only a moon and the smattering of torches all she saw was the unending march of silver. Shouting his name would probably get both in trouble.
What then? Doubtful anyone here would notice or need her. Doubtful anyone would stop for a moment if she was plugged with arrows. Would Gavin even care?
Tish’s words floated to her. If he was a force of nature, then Hayley would rather be near it than too far away. She began to stumble around the silent backs, her lips forming apologies she didn’t voice. More of the eyes glared at her, a seeming army of them pissed at the latecomer, but she didn’t care. Survival was her only goal.
Ducking and weaving past all manner of weapons held at the ready, Hayley was about to give up hope, lay down on the ground, and wait to be trampled when salvation came in the worst form imaginable. A torch flared bright and she spotted red hair tumbling off a shoulder. Larissa stood tall beside her knight. Of course, she would have come. No doubt she could fight off ten grown men all by herself — she was so talented and pretty.
But if Frederick was there, then surely Gavin had to be…
Every knight in the entire stretch suddenly sat up high. A single smack of metal beating into itself reverberated down the lines as each backplate snapped into place. Instinctively, Hayley scrunched down in terror, but the eyes were all turned towards the top of the tower. The knights and squires raised their torches high to watch, blanketing her in darkness. While scrabbling closer, her hand lashed out through the black to grace against a white flank.
Gringolet. The black tail flicked in annoyance, whipping into her cheek, but Hayley breathed a sigh of relief. Sliding along the left side of the horse, she came to a stop beside Gavin. His head twisted to her a moment, a thousand reprimands no doubt building on the silent tongue. To head them off, she twisted the poleax around for his reach and Gavin sighed.
“There!” a voice shouted from the ranks. Both Gavin and Hayley spun to watch as a limp cloth was run up the flagpole. At this distance, in the lurking shadows, no one could make out the color. Wrapping her fingers tight to the polished wood, Hayley tried to stop the shake in her knees.
Time slowed to a snail’s crawl as the new flag, whichever order it was, tugged its way higher. Would it be death? Some other stalemate? She knew if it was black as a raven the world would erupt. But what else could it be? Why get everyone all dressed and scrambled for another standoff?
Biting on her tongue to stop from crying, Hayley willed her eyes to peer with all their might as the flag reached its crescendo and a gust of wind whipped it outward. A blinding white shattered through the night’s shadows and every knight gave out a cry. What did that mean?
She whipped her eyes up to Gavin who wrenched his hand off the hilt of his sword in order to clasp both together in prayer. “Blessed Mary,” he whispered inside of the tin can, “thank you for this mercy.”
“Ser?” Hayley stuttered, her body on edge for the attack to come streaming over a drawbridge or down the hill. She heard sounds of horses jangling away, the knights turning to head back from where they came.
Digging a hand under his chin, Gavin wrenched off the helmet. His amber eyes blinked in the limited light and he glanced down at her. “They have reached an agreement. There will be no fighting.”
“Tonight?” Hayley asked, fully lost to what just happened. She thought she was going to die and now it was all an odorless fart?
“Forever,” Gavin said solemnly, but the knight beside him chuckled.
After freeing his own face from the helmet, Frederick sighed, “Don’t listen to the bleeding heart here. The peace won’t last and we’ll be back soon enough.”
“But…you mean we don’t have to, to do this…?” Hayley’s question died at the look of scorn in Larissa’s eyes. Of course, she knew wha
t was going on. She read all the knight books because she was also a cleric who could do calligraphy while killing thirty men.
“No, Squire,” Gavin said, twisting Gringolet around. Hayley scampered to the side to let both go. “There will be no more exercises in futility. We can head home.”
Home? Everyone had been acting as if they’d be here for weeks and just like that it was over?
Frederick seemed to share the thought. He snorted, “Pull four orders in from across the kingdom and for what? Not even a week of intimidation. I swear, the lords of this era are as gutless as conchs.”
He kept pace with Gavin, the pair talking to each other while leaving their squires to trail behind. Perhaps they were under the impression Hayley and Larissa would want to speak as well instead of trading glares. “Do not question good fortune,” Gavin said to Frederick.
“Right, because we’re certain to be paid more than a pittance for riding across country and standing.” He sighed, shaking his head before pivoting right to Gavin. “Well, at least the night’s not fully over yet. And everyone should be in a better mood.”
Gavin snickered at his friend’s debauchery. “Go on ahead, I think I shall turn in early.”
Sighing loudly, Frederick called, “Duller than a wooden sword. That’s what they’ll all say about you at your funeral.” With his barb finished, he spurred his horse on past both Gavin and Hayley. Larissa began to jog behind, her staff yanked up high to keep from tripping.
“May it not be for sixty years,” Gavin shouted to the fading man as he tugged Gringolet and himself towards the tent. “Here,” he passed the helmet to Hayley, who quickly placed it on the dummy head where it belonged. Though, if they were to be leaving soon…?
“Ser?”
“Oh, it’s still Ser?” Gavin asked as he slid off the saddle, his form sinking into the weary mud. He began to reach for the bracers to yank himself free, but Hayley beat him.
As she undid the first knots, she asked, “Why did you all dress up if you were just going to be sent home?”
“Because they used the signal for battle or at least a heavy-handed sign we were all about to be attacked.”
At that, Hayley scrunched up her nose and whipped her head about. It made no sense. If they knew they were going to surrender, then… Surely the castle people must have understood all the rules she was scrabbling to learn.
His head dropped and he sighed wearily. “Because there were a good hundred brave knights standing before their walls and for a brief moment they got to make us dance. It lets them humble us.”
“Sounds cruel,” Hayley muttered, working her way down to the cuirass.
He didn’t answer in words, but Gavin shrugged as if it was just how things were. The sky was blue, fish swam, birds flew, and the gentry were scum-sucking assholes. “Squire?” he asked, his voice that breathy whisper.
Her fingers didn’t pause until he said, “Hayley?” At that she froze, her head lifting up high to meet his. “Why did you accompany me on the field after I ordered you not to?”
The ‘You could have died, stupid’ was etched deep into his look. As if she had no idea that she’d be nothing more beyond a body for people to trip over. As if she didn’t tremble knock-kneed at the thought of standing there. As if she was a complete idiot.
“I…” her tongue rolled in her mouth, her eyes darting to the ground. Staring at nothing she said, “I didn’t hear you.”
Gavin snorted once but didn’t call her on the lie.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Rather than head straight back home, Gavin said he had some business at another less fancy estate than Lady Battle-axe’s. Hayley wouldn’t have cared had he not decided that traveling with his fellow knights was a good idea. For two days she had to wander beside Larissa while both Gavin and Frederick gossiped. The girls managed to speak not a word the entire trip, only grunting if one was about to trod on a foot or something.
A few of the other knights came along as well, Ser Calvin and — to Hayley’s surprise — Knight-Captain Erin was waiting at their stop. It was a house, big and sort-of important, but the walls were much smaller than at the other one. As the mass of men and women in leathers converged upon the courtyard, a woman came fluttering out the door.
“Ser Gavin!” she called rather friendly to the man sliding off his horse. Dressed in the same tight and fluffy skirts as Bernadine, this woman had a daring neckline in that she best be careful while eating lest half of it wind up in between her valley. She looked to be somewhere in her 40s — so, old, but not nearly dust and bones old.
Gavin drew a comforting hand to Gringolet’s nose and turned to the woman all but grabbing at the edge of his tunic. “Lady Anne.”
“Thank our merciful Lord you are here.” She seemed to be scolding him, already dragging the man onward. His weary eyes darted towards the group a moment before he started to trail her.
Having no clue what to do or what was going on, Hayley decided to give chase. She noticed that Larissa was hanging back as well as Frederick, though the man had a smirk rising on his cheeks. Why were they here again?
This Anne kept on picking at Gavin, her fingers slotting around his arm. “He and his champion have been here at my estate for the past three days, eating any and all they can jam into their greasy mouths.” For some reason, she focused all that ire upon Gavin as if he had control over the comings and goings of her guests.
Sighing, but softly so only Hayley seemed to pick up on it, he said, “I was at the mercy of our King, but came as soon as I could.”
“Yes, yes, our dear sovereign knows best,” Anne said with as much sarcasm as possible. “But I require your aid, immediately.”
Gavin groaned, his head whipping back to find Hayley shrugging. “I am fresh off the road, my Lady. Without rest, I cannot possibly assure you my best…”
She whipped her hand through the air. “Your best will not be required. I have seen the brute that slime wheel brought to my door. My very door! They are staying in the stateroom! What can be done about it?”
Nodding his head as if someone dropped a brick on it, Gavin gave in. “Very well. Give me a moment to…to cool down and dress, then I shall meet with them.”
Blinding teeth flashed upon the clearly beleaguered man before Anne dashed off. Hayley watched it all with narrowed eyes. “Am I supposed to know what that was about?”
“Follow me, Squire.” Gavin wrenched his knuckles against the back of his neck and shoulder before sighing. “I will explain along the way.”
As if he’d been here a dozen times before, Gavin led Gringolet straight to the stables and took care of his horse first. Her knight looked weary and clearly aching to pass out into a bed, but he was careful with Gringolet and checked the trough twice. Once that was finished, Gavin sat hard onto a lone wicker chair in the stable. Hands brushed over his face as he buried his head into his lap.
“Uh…” Hayley danced on her heels, feeling as if she was privy to someone’s funeral.
With a slow twist of his arm, Gavin ladled up a cup of water and dumped it over his curled hair. The water dashed in a hundred different streams, Gavin adding more with each breath until he looked as if he was caught in a rainstorm.
“Ser…are you—?”
When his head shot up, a stern certainty glittered in his eyes. “I’m well,” he said, the tone so rock solid Hayley questioned if she’d even seen him crumble then. “But,” he smiled almost shyly at her, “thank you for the concern. Take down my gear and lay it out.”
Tugging off the horse all the equipment Hayley was glad she didn’t have to carry, she began to sort through the jangling armor, when Gavin paused her. “No, just the weapons. Axe, sword, perhaps mace. I’m uncertain who shall have choice. If we will even bother.”
“Ser, what the hell is going on?” Hayley sputtered in confusion.
He stood up and yanked free the linen tunic across his body. Hayley spotted a brief flash of taut brown flesh before she buried her eyes in her
work. Half naked, Gavin sorted through the armor looking for something as he spoke. “It is a trial. Lady Anne is a cousin of Duchess Bernadine, so I am called upon to be her champion.”
The jangle of mail broke Hayley’s embargo and she glanced over. Gavin must have sensed her eyes as he sighed, “I am often called upon to be her champion.” While tugging on his fresh shirt, Hayley watched from the side of her eye as his body vanished to the fabric, but she caught something. On his upper chest part, the bit that was flat on boys — well sometimes flat, sometimes distractingly more pillowed — there was a design in black paint. She wanted to ask, but he already hefted up the next part, the chainmail shimmering like rain as it fell over his body.
“What does that mean?” Hayley stuttered, aware that she hadn’t said anything because she’d been staring at his whole nakedness bits.
“You’ve never seen a trial by combat?” Gavin asked in surprise and Hayley’s cheeks burned. She was glad Larissa tromped off to wherever she did, probably some witch’s pit. No doubt she knew everything about this combat trial and had already participated in one herself on numerous occasions.
Shaking her head slowly, Gavin explained, “Someone, no doubt the Count of Glouester, has wronged Lady Anne. To solve it, both parties select a champion to fight in their honor.”
“So…you have to fight someone you’ve never met, over something you don’t know about and have no stake in?” Hayley summed up, her eyes burning into him.
He cinched up the leather belt and reached for the cap as well. “You have the right of it.”
“What in the hell for?” she asked, spinning in place with her hands digging into her hipbones.
“It…” Gavin began before his line of sight darted high above Hayley’s head. “I shall explain later,” he whispered to her before staggering up to his full height. “Count,” he bowed his head to the most pear-shaped man Hayley had ever seen.