by S E Zbasnik
Ah! Hayley bunched both her fists up and jammed them tight to her hips to keep from swinging. For her part, Larissa didn’t stop playing with her pretty red braid, tossing it from shoulder to shoulder like she was trying to enrage a bull. Was that why she came over here in the first place, ‘cause pissing Hayley off was working a treat.
“My knight is calling for me,” Larissa said with a flick of her fingers. Hayley hadn’t heard anything, but she didn’t glance around to find Frederick. Her eyes were burning into Larissa, trying to find a good comeback. The anger turned her mind into nothing but flames. All she wanted to do was open her mouth and scream in Larissa’s face for a good ten minutes.
With another soft shrug, Larissa began to saunter off. Before she got far, Hayley shouted out, “See you in the ring!”
“I highly doubt that,” Larissa got one last jab in as she dashed into the entrance for the stands.
“Gah!” Hayley grabbed onto her livery, trying to tear the laundered wool to pieces with her weary fingers.
“Well,” Ania said after a moment, “she’s awful.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Hayley sighed to herself before turning to the girl forced up into the stands. “What are you doing up there anyway?”
“W-w-watching you fight?”
“Psh, you should be down here, in the arena,” Hayley jerked her head towards the dirt which had already climbed halfway up her shins in her time on the ground. It made her legs look like tree roots.
“Why? I, I can’t enter the tournament,” Ania said slowly, then signed it in case Hayley was the one who was deaf.
“No, but you can help. Help me get Gavin ready, or just run around with the knights while they’re chewing the fat. Sometimes literally.” There was a healer going around insisting that a diet heavy in the fat of pig and duck was perfect for bulking a man up before a fight. All Hayley thought about that was to stay upwind of those knights who bought into it.
Ania leaned closer over the wall. “Is that even allowed?”
Hayley shrugged. “Why not? There’s clowns out there. I doubt anyone would stop you.” Okay, Gavin might. But then again, he seemed to like Ania, so probably not.
Her smile cracked wider as Ania bobbed her head. “Okay. Um, how do I get to you?”
There was a secret entrance on the other side of the arena, but it’d probably be easier for her to just leap down over the wall. Hayley was about to suggest it when she got another visit by a redhead. This time it came bouncing down the stairs, sounding out of breath.
“Ha-hayseed,” Finn gasped.
Hayley stopped reaching for Ania’s hand and crossed her arms to glare at him. “What?”
“Just…I was on that side,” Finn jerked his thumb clear around the arena towards the part that could have taken the brunt of the arrows if the archers missed. “Saw you got a bullseye and wanted to say congratulations. So, that’s it. Congrats.”
Her face pinched together, trying to walk through a pile of confusing emotions before a rosy smile dawned on her face. “Thanks, Finn.”
“No wonder you were so busy all the time,” he said, a hand swooping over his hair. He flattened right beside the railing and bent lower. Hayley, for no good reason, found herself talking right to his face.
“Yeah, up at dawn most days trying to get archery in before noon, then out to the-to the, um…” Her words fell into a plop as she spotted Nell rounding the seats fast from where Finn came. Did she spot the boy coming over and trailed him, or — most likely — had she been sitting with him the whole time?
“Finn,” Nell said in a breathy voice. She didn’t stop until she draped a protective hand around his shoulders. Instinctively, Hayley shrunk deeper into the arena away from the pair. “You took off.”
“Yeah, I wanted to…to talk to Hayseed,” he said, his eyes darting from a wilting Hayley back to the blooming Nell.
“Oh, the girl from the stables. I didn’t realize you were a squire.”
“Yup.” Hayley forced on a smile even as she wanted to run screaming for the hills. She’d even take Larissa over…no, no she wouldn’t. She’d take a literal pit filled with vipers and spiders over Larissa. “Why I’m down here, doing all the fancy stuff people came to watch.”
Nell sized her up a minute longer, her sapphire eyes taking into account Hayley’s face in particular. She wanted to yank her cap down all the way to try and hide it from her stripping gaze but froze. “Quite. Well, good luck in your bruising and bashing.” She gave a twist of her fingers causing Hayley to stand up higher.
Damn straight she was a fighter. Worked hard at it. Rose early every morning, went to bed sore, then got up and did it again. It wasn’t nothing to be ashamed of. Walking with a strut, Hayley held a hand out to Ania. “Come on, I’ll help you down.”
For a beat, Ania’s eyes darted over to Finn. The boy was biting hard to his lip, his eyes whipping back and forth like a pendulum. Ania did something with her hand, but it was hidden behind the wall so Hayley couldn’t see. Whatever it was, it made Finn’s entire face pucker into a sneer, but Ania didn’t wait to be shouted at. Reaching forward, Ania gripped onto Hayley’s offered hand and together they got her to the arena below. Ania laughed, patting at her knees as she rose from her tumble.
“Finny,” Nell spoke loud enough it was sure to reach to the girls in the dirt, “we should really check on the horses. There’s nothing exciting happening on the first day anyway.”
“I…” Finn’s storm eyes drifted to Hayley and for some stupid reason, she let them land in hers. She waited for him to say something, to do something to make it worthy. “I want to watch the fights, okay,” he said, and with a great roll of his shoulder shook Nell off.
She folded her hands together in a huff. “You’re impossible to deal with.”
Hayley snorted at that truth. For a beat, Nell’s liquid ice eyes burned through Hayley but she ignored it. She picked up Ania’s hand and began to direct her towards their little official encampment of equipment. Just before they got far enough out of range, Hayley heard Nell dig her last nail in deep.
“I can’t believe they let someone like her into the arena. She screams of the pox. Her face looks like the underside of a pumice stone that was scraped over a clubfoot.”
She shouldn’t care. She didn’t want to care, but Hayley’s traitorous fingers began to rise and — giving away that she heard it all — they dipped into the craters in her cheeks.
CHAPTER THIRTY
By the time Hayley got back to Gavin, she’d managed to knot all her dumb feelings into a rat’s nest and swallow it deep. She didn’t have time to deal with them, not that she wanted to. Not that she cared! Finn was a pain in the ass, one she was tired of long before he ever went and…
He could do whatever he wanted far as she was concerned.
“Squire?”
Crap. Hayley whipped her head up to find Gavin looking down at her with that blush of concern only he could manage. Sometimes it put her in mind of a mama cat that’d adopt random abandon kittens and not let them leave her paws until they were a year old.
“What?” she asked, dancing back and forth on her feet.
“Is there something wrong with your cheek?” He pointed to her hand and Hayley flinched.
She yanked down her fingers, which had been picking at the old sores left over from an outbreak that didn’t kill her. Picking only made it worse, Hayley wasn’t dumb, but it also made her feel better when anyone pointed out the state of her skin. As if she could claw herself a fresh set of perfect porcelain skin from underneath. “I…had an itch, is all,” she spat out, her shoulders crawling higher. Forget the matches, all Hayley wanted to do was curl up into a ball and never come out.
“And Ania,” Gavin kept on, this time his perfect face turning to the girl who was trying to hide behind a shorter Hayley. It wasn’t going so well. “You’ve come to assist?” he asked at Ania but was clearly talking to Hayley.
She opened her mouth, about t
o explain, when a flurry of bells and ribbons came dashing towards them. It was a man, the red and white stockings adhered to the stocky legs and ribbons knotted in a beard told her that much, but the outfit so closely resembled the Master of the Tourney Hayley was having a hard time not seeing a her.
“Ser Gavin.” The copy of the Master raced towards him, bells jangling like a broken pan rack. “You will be doing the kneeling, yes?” Her knight tipped his head, and the candy stick clown clapped his hands. “Get kitted up.”
“What, why? It’s always done before the first knight sparing.”
Shrugging both shoulders, the man sighed, “They moved it up to before the squires give it their little go. I find the whole thing morbid myself, but traditions are traditions.”
Hayley had no idea what he was blathering on about. She turned to her knight to find him fuming. Not in a 'kicking things over and making a fist' way. Gavin’s anger boiled deep in his eyes, barely noticeable if you didn’t know what you were looking for. What in God’s name was going on?
“They’re about to announce the squire rounds,” the bejangled man said with a caper and laugh. “If you don’t get out there to do it soon, they might just skip it entirely.”
“No,” Gavin thundered. Without a thought for those watching, he tugged off his belt and the forest green tunic went straight over his head. With a lot of glistening brown flesh on display, Hayley tried to look anywhere but at her half-naked knight. The others didn’t have the same qualms, Ania partially hiding her eyes behind her fingers while the people in the stands from across the way suddenly began to hoot and holler.
“Squire.” The half-naked man was all business, already sliding on his wool shirt with the massive amount of ties knotted to it. Before it dropped down, she again spotted the black drawing on his right pectoral area. Some of it was hidden in chest hair, but the circular edge almost looked like it was writing. Was it a very ornate birthmark?
“Hayley, the armor.”
Shit. She dashed for her job, yanking out the mass of metal they hadn’t taken the time to properly set up. “You need not cinch it tight,” Gavin said as she worked her way fast up to the breastplate.
“Oh?” Her eyes drifted towards him a moment before she reached for the pauldrons. These were even fancier than the ones from before, bearing a snake image on both sides.
Shifting in place, Gavin lifted his head higher as he stared through nothing. “It is only for show.”
Then why even…? She didn’t voice her thought, Hayley having learned to curb her tongue whenever people with fancy garments were asking her to do something stupid. Apparently, it wasn’t polite to point that fact out, no matter how dumb they were being.
“Ania, can you hand me the helmet?” Hayley asked, jabbing a finger towards the thing sitting on the table.
“That shall not be necessary,” Gavin said. He stepped away before Hayley even had a chance to belt on his scabbard. What was going on? With a quick step, he reached not for his sword but one of the plain ones that’d been sitting on the rack when they arrived.
With that in hand, Gavin turned to the man in tights who began to lead him towards the middle of the arena. They hadn’t even set up the rings yet. Were they going to use iron rings like before? Probably something to ask her knight when he was done being paraded about by the man in bells.
The crowd fell to a quiet murmur, eyes all training upon Gavin as he stopped dead center. Was he going to punch out the man in bells? If so, Hayley could get behind this.
“Lords, Ladies, gentlefolk, and men of the cloth,” the man in bells spoke, his voice carrying around the arena as if by magic. “For your pleasure, I present to you, Ser Gavin Frey.”
Polite clapping rumbled like uncertain thunder as Gavin extended the plain sword out as far as it could reach. He turned, showing off the blade to each side of the arena as if they really needed to check to make sure it was a sword. Once that was done, he took five steps to the right and planted the sword directly into the dirt.
Okay…?
With a clasp of his hands, Gavin suddenly plummeted to a knee, his forehead brushing to his thigh as he seemed to pray.
“What is going on?” Hayley asked Ania. The girl shook her head in obvious confusion when a familiar voice answered her.
“It is in remembrance,” Frederick said. She twisted her head over to find the handsome knight somehow looking even more striking than usual. The green of the Seven Serpents brought his blue eyes to life, turning them as turquoise as the fabled calm seas of the south. He’d brushed his longer hair back into a new side part, emphasizing the cheekbones.
“Remembrance?” Hayley repeated realizing she fell stupidly quiet while sizing him up. It was nice to see Frederick again, but that also meant Larissa was near so…double edged sword and all.
The man paused, a hand drifting to the pommel of the sword at his side as he steadied himself. Gavin was yet in his praying form, looking as if he believed the blade in the ground to be a cross. “He is honoring those we lost. Calvin,” Frederick whispered causing Hayley to flinch.
“Before the fighting, drinking, gambling, and cussing all start, we try to pretend for a few minutes that this bleeding as entertainment is civilized. In a way, it is; civilized violence for the masses.”
“Why’s he in armor?” Hayley asked, then winced when it felt as if her voice carried clear across the earth. Every witness had fallen silent save the squire trampling on the moment.
Frederick snorted a laugh and his turquoise eyes swung to her. “He is taking a knee to Calvin. Claiming to the world that the man lost was a better warrior and braver knight. It’s all symbolic and means nothing for the coming bets and ballyhoo, but…tradition.”
A tradition that was important to Gavin. She could see him working through a set of prayers, his eyes shut tight in subjugation to the lost friend he had to bury. Stubborn tears burned in her eyes, stirring up the quagmire she swallowed deep into her gut. It never left her, hard as she tried to forget, to put the past where it lay. Sometimes, when on the cusp of sleep, her mind would flash back to that scrap of paper and where it should always say “Attack the Tower” a “Don’t” would drop in front of it.
“Ah, don’t cry,” a comforting hand skirted over her shoulders, tucking Hayley tight to Frederick’s side. He was laughing as Gavin finished his prayers and rose to his feet. “Remember, we’re alive, and in the end, that’s all that matters.”
Gavin stepped towards the pair of them, his eyes lighting up when he spotted his friend. “Frederick!” The fingers released off of Hayley, causing her to rock to the other side of her feet. Opening his hands wide, Frederick reached out to hug Gavin, a clang of barely knotted on metal banging back and forth for his effort.
“What in the dear Lord's name were they doing running the kneeling now?” Frederick fell into talking quickly with Gavin as if Hayley weren’t even there.
The man’s amber eyes rolled up and narrowed on his friend, displaying both his displeasure with such a decision and that he wasn’t happy about having to do it period. Gavin placed the borrowed sword back and began to reach for his pauldrons. Ah, right.
Hayley dashed over to try and unstick him from the armor when her knight’s gloved hand caught her fingers. “Squire, leave that to me. You have to get out there for your first challenge.”
“You…you can get out of this on your own? I thought you needed help.”
“Don’t worry about that. Focus on your battle ahead. You can do it.” Gavin lifted from his private speech with Hayley to smile up at his friend. “Well, Frederick, any chance you remember how to remove armor from your squire days?”
“Ha, I believe I can give it a crack, but I seem to remember there was a toad that’d be dumped down the back of a knight’s shirt upon finishing.” The man laughed while happily assisting Gavin.
A great horn thundered through the air, and Hayley watched the other squires all scatter to the middle of the arena. She began to give chase. For
a moment she paused, glancing back at Gavin in confusion before he gave her the go ahead.
The passing out of assignments was a mess. On a giant board, the judges pinned up various names — though they all went by S followed by their knight’s first initial. It took Hayley forever to figure out she was SG until Tish pointed it out. “Look at that, you’re in the first round.”
“Is that good?”
“Ah, it means you’ll get it over with faster,” the girl said quickly, telling Hayley it wasn’t.
They were given fifteen minutes to dress and prepare, Hayley slinking into her mail and wondering if maybe the leathers wouldn’t be smarter. She’d move quicker but then it might be better if she wore more armor just in case. It wasn’t supposed to be to the death, but accidents and all. Things could happen.
Her eyes darted over to the circle in the sand where Gavin proved to the world that Calvin died a hero. “Ser?” Hayley gnashed her jaws in thought.
“Hm?”
“Do we have a bastard sword?”
“I wouldn’t suggest you switch up your weapon now. You have no idea what—”
“It’s not for me,” she said, bouncing back and forth on her feet.
As the confusion washed to understanding, Gavin took in a slow breath. “There is one behind the table, but be quick about it.”
Bobbing her head, Hayley checked that her sword was in place, then freed a great one that lay below the armament table. God damn, she felt like her entire side was going to fall over. Getting her feet under her, Hayley dashed for the ring that was to be hers.
A girl stood outside. Despite wearing the greens of the Serpents Hayley didn’t recognize her. It wasn’t a matter to worry about right now. Her opponent’s smile began to rise, her lips opening to say something, but Hayley didn’t have time.
Without a thought, Hayley leapt into the ring, her opponent gulping. “Uh, we’re supposed to wait until…”
It wasn’t until she stood front and center of the crowd that Hayley felt the full force of hundreds of eyes turning to her, wondering about her, sizing her up, and planning to turn on her. A hush spread quickly, snarls and snickers fast on its tail. She didn’t have time for that.