Squire Hayseed

by S E Zbasnik

  The sound of jangling bells warned her to get it done with quick.

  Putting all the strength in her arms, Hayley extended the mighty bastard sword wide through the air. It leaned at first, tugging on the muscles she had grown over the summer. But as she turned, displaying to the confused world the skill of one who was lost, a strength rose through her. Almost as if he was there helping her to hold it.

  The bells were growing closer, the snickers about to turn into food lobbed at her head. Hayley planted the broadsword into the dirt and collapsed to a knee. She fervently clasped her hands, but there were no words sitting in her brain. No prayers to guide his soul or lighten hers.

  There was only one thing she knew in her head, one phrase that wouldn’t leave her. Even with the entire arena about to come down on her, the Master of the Tournament about to hurl her out on her backside, Hayley honored her fallen squire. “You deserved better.”

  She rose, tears budding in her eyes, expecting to find a dozen hands about to wrench her off her feet. What she was met with was astounded silence. Hands hung apart, heads lay flush with chests, and everyone was staring at the scraggly squire standing alone beside an ownerless sword.

  It began slowly, a smattering of claps here and there. She thought she heard them beginning from behind her, near where Gavin and Ania were, but it grew quickly. In scanning around the arena, Hayley caught the eye of Abed. The boy was mopping the back of his hand up to his cheek, but he smiled at her through the pain.

  As the applause reached through the arena, striking people who hadn’t a clue what happened, Hayley yanked up the massive sword and ran it back to Gavin. He didn’t have a chance to say anything to her as the girl turned on her heels to return to the first challenge.

  “All right,” she slapped her hands together, “let’s do this.”

  Excitement blazed through Hayley’s arms, her jaw locked in tight lest lightning accidentally spark from her teeth. The crowd was stomping its feet, rattling the stands on old pillars while the few squires stared heavenward waiting for the start.

  “Hi!” The girl across from her slapped her hand out and smiled. “I’m Addams,” she added.

  “You’re, your given name is Addams?” Hayley tried to understand even while adding her hand and giving a shake.

  “Yeah, ya know. Not all parents are good at giving out names. Got a younger brother named Salmon. No one knows why. And you are…?”

  “Hayley,” she said, then flinched. It looked like the other couplets of fighters on both sides of her were remaining deathly quiet, but Addams seemed insistent on chatting.

  “Thought so.” The girl clapped her hands a moment before swiping another hand through her hair. “You were there, at the Battle of Camden.”

  “Battle of what now?” Hayley flinched. From the side of her eyes, she watched the Master of the Tourney stagger across the arena. She was saying something to the crowd, but Hayley missed half of it. A speech about the squires fighting and the history of blah blah.

  “You know, the castle. The one where we lost…” Addams pointed towards the mark in the sand Hayley left for Marco.

  “Oh.” Dread plummeted into her stomach leaving her wondering if that’d been the right move. Still, no one yelled at her not to. Maybe that’d come later. “Who are you?”

  “Ah,” Addams blushed, “second-year squire. First time qualifying though so…”

  So that was what she got for her bullseye. They put the scraggly Hayley up against someone who had age and experience on her. Closing her eyes tight, Hayley tried to not laugh at the absurd idea she honestly thought she could make it to the scoreboard at this squire thing. There were a good hundred people competing, never mind the great mass of ones come to watch.

  The bell jangler raised his great staff high, silence following in its wake as everyone — audience and combatants alike — turned to watch. “Warriors,” the woman shook her staff hard, then slapped it through the air to the ground, “begin!”

  Hayley’s hand lashed for the grip of her sword, but Addams was smiling and not making any threatening moves. Instead, the girl unsheathed her sword without a care and extended it for their little funny man in stripes to inspect.

  He drew his finger down the edge, pronounced, “Good,” then turned to Hayley.

  “Uh…” She stumbled to mimic what Addams did, the sword nearly falling out of her sweaty palms. That caused quite a few snickers to break out from the stands above them. The inspector’s eyes only narrowed before he checked her sword twice.

  “Blunt, surprising you remembered, but good. Combatants to separate sides, please!”

  With the sword returned to Hayley’s hand, she staggered back to the edge and eyed up her opponent properly. Addams had height on her, no doubt. Probably weight too, going by how sturdy her legs were. It was gonna be hard to sweep her off them. Best hope was to play it conservatively and wait.

  “Squires…” Their master and judge raised his jangling stick between them. Hayley extended her sword as did Addams, both nearly touching by the tip. With a smash of his bells, the master shouted, “Fight!”

  Hayley instantly drew back, reacting to all the signs that Addams was about to smash forward. Sure enough, Hayley’s blade bounced away not one but two of Addams attacks. The girl was coming hard and fast, sending Hayley scampering backwards to the wall.

  The impenetrable summer heat that clung to her body was sliced by the waves of air pummeling off of Addams’ sword. Each one barely glanced away from Hayley, nearly striking something vital. Head, chest, legs. Protect the main three, watch not just her arm but her eyes as well. And be aware of…

  A great clang broke through the arena as the iron heel on Hayley’s boot banged into the ring. Shit! Addams’ swung high, her blunt edge coming straight for Hayley’s neck. Without thought or panic, Hayley swung fast to the side. She finally lashed out with her sword, trying to get a hit on Addams’ side, but the girl moved even faster. Blade bounced off blade, Hayley’s skittering away as she didn’t have the same power.

  Both girls paused, dust swirling around them in the dead air of the arena. Hayley held her armed hand out, the other tucked safely behind while Addams had both latched to the grip of her sword. The girl wrung them tight, a smile rising on her face as she eyed up the competition she trapped against the wall. Hayley risked a glance backwards, getting a feel for how far away the edge was. It was only a second, but the moment her eyes returned to the front, the attack began.

  Like a shark smelling the blood blooming in water, Addams lashed out fast. Silver struck silver, the pads of Hayley’s gloves put to the test as her sword rattled in her grip. She kept inching backwards, keeping her free hand near the ring’s edge while fending off Addams’ attacks.

  There was a weakness, there had to be a weakness. Everyone had them.

  Hayley’s eyes scoured every inch of the girl’s form. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t have to be. She had all the advantages while Hayley could only scamper away to survive. Dodge. Defend. Stay alive. That was where she thrived.

  In dashing away, Hayley managed nearly an entire rotation of the ring. Addams kept up the same attacks, practically falling into a pattern. Hayley could push it. Let her go for one more head, chest swipe, and attempt a riposte off that parry, but if she missed she’d be left wide open. It was a risk.

  Defense didn’t win the day.

  Sometimes you had to fight back.

  She steeled herself, ready to make good on the plan, when her eyes noticed a wobble in Addams’ grip. It was only there when she was back swinging, but it might be enough. With her left heel safely dug into the iron ring behind her, Hayley parried Addams’ next attack, then smashed her blade forward.

  Aimed for the girl’s shoulder, it took next to nothing for Addams to shake it off, but her arms were tiring. Her gait was slowing. And Hayley, who’d been playing close to her chest, exploded out of the gate. Hayley’s attacks stung like bees — there was almost no force but they spattered
faster than raindrops. A few touched flesh, whacking into Addams’ shoulders and sliding against her ribs.

  This sent the girl scampering back herself. She tried to maintain her plant in the dirt, but Addams was losing it fast. Sliding towards the stands as Hayley roared like some manic bear cub hell-bent on avenging its mother, Addams’ ass bounced against the iron wall. Her form jerked forward, causing Hayley to pause lest the girl’s sword nearly strike her, but Addams rebounded fast.

  Shaking off the momentary surprise, Addams smashed forward with her sword. Hayley parried it to the side, barely putting any force into it. Addams snickered, her arms sliding around to perform a backswing that’d knock Hayley’s head clean off her body (if they didn’t have blunt weapons).

  It’s time.

  Planting her foot deep into the ground, Hayley put every muscle in her body into the swing coming to meet Addams. When the swords met, Addams cried out from the force bouncing clear back to her waning grip while Hayley dug in tighter. She could feel the calluses on her palms trying to rip free, but no amount of blood pooling in her gloves would stop her now.

  Addams’ sword drooped, and like a maniac barbarian, Hayley hefted hers high over her head. With both hands, she smashed down onto Addams’ blade and the weapon erupted into a shower of silver. Shards burst free from a crack spidering off the edge. Hayley’s hammer freed them from their bonds into the air. Addams’ sword turned to nothing more than half of a broken edge leaning out of the hilt.

  With a step forward, Hayley drew her sword right to Addam’s throat, the girl’s head tipping back as the pair locked eyes. All breath paused inside of Hayley’s lungs, sound popped away until it was only the beat of her heart bounding through her body. Slowly, Addams raised her hands, the broken sword tossed to the ground.

  The smell of dirt and sweat shattered the spell, the imposed silence wiped away by the jangle of bells. Hayley’s eyes darted over to the man in stripes. His face was disturbingly close to the two girls before he yanked it back. With another shake of his stick, he declared for the crowd, “Squire Gavin has won the match!”

  A great stomp of feet answered for that, Hayley staring up into the stands that were on her side cheering for the win. For a breath, she caught Finn clapping just as hard as the others and a smile on his face. Soon he was swallowed up in people shifting in their seats, some launching to their legs as if they spotted something important on the field. Fingers and hands pointed, heads brushed together to shout at whatever they saw.

  Smiling wider, Hayley whipped her sight over her shoulder to look at her knight. Gavin had his arms crossed in contemplation, his face giving nothing away, but Ania was leaping up and down and clapping so hard her stockings were starting to fall.

  “Uh…” Addams said, shaking Hayley from her stupor. “Do you mind?”

  “Sorry, sorry.” She staggered back, pulling the less-than deadly blade free. In moving, a cramp flared up her right thigh. Damn. All the pains of battle crashed on her once the fight finished. Hayley winced as she tried to pull a breath into her lungs and finding dirt coating her tongue instead.

  “Good fight,” Hayley stuck out her hand, which Addams took.

  She began to shake them up and down, a smile rising. “Good…” Her eyes darted from Hayley’s triumphant face to her thigh. “Oh god!”

  “What?” Hayley followed suit and her entire face paled white. Blood poured from her thigh, the crimson liquid streaking in a great swipe to her knee where it began to puddle on the ground. “Shit!” Hayley screamed, her reflection bouncing back to her from the wedge of a shattered sword jammed into her thigh.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  White erupted around her. It seared from all sides of her vision while Hayley’s eyes burned into the bright scarlet dribbling down her leg. Hands plucked at her body, slotting her arms this way and that, and carrying her off her feet. But she wouldn’t turn to look at the healers. She feared if she turned away from the wound for even a moment, she’d fall dead on her feet.

  “Clear out, give us room!” one of the healers shouted, her foot lashing out to kick into a backside before Hayley was lowered to a pallet.

  She’d been paralyzed from the moment she saw the blood, but once her butt struck the woven mat an unending pain surged through her body. Clutching towards her leg, Hayley tried to twist and roll away as if that might free her from the burning agony that was once her right leg.

  “Stop that,” the healer ordered. From behind, a pair of weathered hands gripped onto Hayley’s shoulders and pinned her down. “Rolling like that’ll just make it worse. Get me a pair of scissors!” the woman kept on shouting, whipping her head around the tiny tent as if there was a pile of minions ready to do her bidding.

  When the pair of jagged-edged scissors, partially rusted at the handle, fell into the woman’s hands Hayley squeaked. Her throat gulped as her brain threw out every horrible thing one could do with scissors. Were they gonna have to cut her leg off?

  It wasn’t to the upper thigh the woman reached but Hayley’s ankle. Cold metal dug into Hayley’s inflamed and bloody skin, causing her to yelp. “Ya can feel that, that’s good,” the woman mused while she began to cut apart Hayley’s leggings. As she rounded past the knee, Hayley’s clotted blood began to gum up the scissors. The healer had to pause and wipe them off twice before she reached the embedded shard and ripped Hayley’s green hose with her hands.

  The sound caused Hayley to jump. So many vital things in the body could be ripped, broken, bloodied. Damn it all.

  Blood oozed up the silver shard, nearly obscuring Hayley’s reflection in its crimson depths. She caught an edge of her face, paler than death’s skull, as the healer grabbed onto the shard and yanked it out.

  “Ah!” Hayley tried to crumple up and protect herself. It felt as if her skin was gouged out with a knife hot from the fire, but the healer only smiled crisply as her patient was held immobile.

  “Not too deep,” the woman muttered while tossing the shard to the side and pressing a wad of towels tight to Hayley’s wound. More blood wept through, crawling ever higher up the mass of linen like an ink bottle plunged into water. More mewling and cries broke from Hayley’s tight jaw. The tears were waiting in the wings, but she could keep them at bay as long as she focused on her toes. Twisting them, rolling them, anything but the bloody thigh a strange woman was pushing on.

  As the healer drew the towel back, then down, then back again, she finally sighed, “Think it’s stopped enough. Hand me the bottle.”

  A bottle black as a lake at night passed to the woman. With her teeth, she yanked out the cork and spat it to the dirt. Hayley expected her to chug half of it back, but raisins for eyes darted to the girl. “This is…gonna sting,” the healer said. Before Hayley’s rattled brain had a chance to try and dissect that, the woman upended half of the liquid fire onto her leg.

  Every scream Hayley’d bit and swallowed back burst free. It felt like hot coals were dropping into the hole in her leg, each of them melting from the heat and dripping deeper into her muscle. Tears blinded her, Hayley having to take a breath before she could scream again. They were trying to kill her. They were going to kill her! She had to…had to…

  It didn’t vanish, but the agonizing burn abetted, allowing Hayley’s shrieking tongue to pause. Her lungs danced in her chest, sucking in breaths at a war drum beat as she wildly stared up at the person holding her in place.

  “Not so bad, Dearie.” The healer suddenly turned on the charm, trying to catch the manic eye of her patient. “Just got to stitch you up now. Okay? You’re okay.”

  Biting her tongue, Hayley bobbed her head. She could do this. Just… Her hands lashed upwards, gripping onto the forearms of whoever was keeping her in place. For a moment the hold on her shifted, the assistant surprised, but at a look from the healer, Hayley was allowed to keep hanging on.

  It went quick, mercifully. But each jab of a needle into her ripped flesh caused Hayley to dig her nails in. Midway through the stitch
es, Hayley accidentally bit into her tongue, blood dripping down her throat as she watched the healer knot off the last of the thread and snip the end away. Fresh bandages were wound around the woman’s work, hiding it away in cottony fluff while Hayley’s heel ground into a small table.

  “There,” the healer smiled wider at her, “all finished. Wasn’t more than a trifle to…” Her eyes darted from the wad of clean bandages cinched around Hayley’s lower thigh further upward. With a cold toss of her fingers, the healer drew Hayley’s ripped hose higher.

  No.

  Only the white edge was exposed. It’d healed into dents years back, warping whatever had been the brand, but it was unmistakable to anyone who knew what to look for. The soft raisin eyes that’d been trying to calm Hayley turned wicked as she glared at the girl caught in her web.

  Rising to her feet, the healer nodded to the assistant who let go of Hayley. She tumbled to the pallet in shock, her hands grasping at the trampled grass under her. There had to be an excuse. It wasn’t that. It wasn’t what she thought it was. It was something else. A burn from childhood. Or…

  The healer stepped to the door of the tent, quickly ripping it open and speaking to the shadow that’d stood sentinel the entire time Hayley was in there. No. Please don’t tell him! But that had to be what she was doing, her voice so soft Hayley couldn’t hear the words as the healer revealed to Gavin his squire’s awful secret.

  Hayley scampered to her ass, her hands trying to mend the ripped apart leggings. Tears blinded her each time she’d tug the cut fabric together only to have the sides fall further and further away. It was revealing more of her slave mark to the world, the blinding white of the burn in stark relief against her pink skin.

  Deadly silence reigned outside. Hayley whipped her head up when it struck her that they weren’t talking anymore. They were both standing in contemplation, the healer demurring back to the famous knight. A shadowed hand gripped to the tent flap and, before he could stick his head in to catch her, Hayley bent clean over her thigh.