by S E Zbasnik
“I know, love,” Myra pressed a kiss to the fingers caressing her face.
“Her father is…unpredictable.”
“Liable to go spare if you look at him funny, you mean,” Myra added, her eyes darkening.
“So,” Hayley stumbled through her words, making certain they all fit into place, “in order to keep safe, you have to act like you’re not married.”
“Yes,” Gavin nodded.
“It’s a lot of lonely nights and secret letters,” Myra said with a sad sigh. If they were counting on this tournament’s purse to get her to safety then he must have had enough or almost before the big fight at the castle. Before he had to pay for the Order’s screw up. God. Save his fellow knights or the woman he loved.
There was no way she could have made that kind of decision.
“Hayley,” Gavin reached for her, his hand clamping to her shoulder but it wasn’t tight. “Please, you can’t tell anyone about this. If they were to hear…Myra’s father has many friends who’d greedily sell him the truth. Please.”
He was begging her, this scrap of a gutter rat he fished out of the sewers and pulled into his life. Now she held the greatest secret of his life in her hands and there was little he could do to stop her from blabbing it.
Smiling at him, Hayley patted his shoulder. “Course I will. I mean, who’d believe me anyway?” It’d certainly put a damper on some of the wild debates around the squire fire. More than a few were mad at her ‘cause she wouldn’t talk about what her knight looked like naked. Or even hazard a guess.
“Thank you,” Gavin said as if she held all the cards. It was only fair. He was keeping her greatest secret as well. His hand slid off Hayley and began to reach back for Myra’s when a man in stripes came rushing through the tents. On cue, Myra staggered back into the shadows while Gavin stepped forward.
“Ah, here you are, Ser Knight. We need you at the judges' table for a small matter.”
“Of course,” Gavin bowed his head to the man. He glanced back to his wife, but the interloper remained too close for Gavin to give any proper kissy-face goodbyes. “Uh, Squire. Remain here,” His eyes still wouldn’t break from Myra’s, the two of them clearly wishing to be anywhere away from all the people.
“You’ve walked too much today already, a rest would do you good,” Gavin tacked on as if his order needed an explanation. With that he stomped along past the judge, both of them vanishing towards the arena in the distance.
It was some time until Hayley glanced back at Myra — his wife. He had a wife. He was married. Oh shit, he was married and Hayley kissed him! Was he married when she kissed him? Would Myra hate her for it? Would she have Gavin banish her for it? Did he tell his wife about it and they all had a good laugh, or…?
“So these other women you mentioned?” Myra began causing Hayley’s stomach to plummet.
“It’s not…there isn’t anything to, um, to say.”
The woman always walked as if she knew the trick to every step, her confidence more solid than bedrock while bantering with a stuttering knight. But standing beside the back tents as her secret husband bustled away, Myra began to wilt. “Being apart isn’t easy, and I…I know I am unfair to expect complete loyalty.”
“He ain’t like that,” Hayley interrupted, her soul flushed with pain from the familiar sting of betrayal on Myra’s face. It sucked when they played with your heart like a ball of string. “I mean, I can’t speak for every second of his life. There’s sleeping, and bathing, and taking a shit in the bushes,” her mouth was babbling, trying to find the right words to soothe a sad wife.
She swallowed deep and began again. “But any other woman, girl, all of ‘em who bats her eyes and pouts her lips, he just ignores. Politely acts like he can’t tell they’re going around like a sow in heat, and goes to his room to read from ledgers.”
Myra snorted. “Sounds of him.”
“Just you,” Hayley stumbled. “You appear and he acts all funny. Happy, but also a bit like a rat that got into arsenic. Babbling, sweaty, jittery. The whole thing.”
“Thank you,” Myra whispered. “I know it’s foolish of me to worry, but…this has been harder than I ever thought it would be.”
“How, uh,” Hayley scratched at her ear, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, “how long have you two been married?”
The blushing bride smiled. “Nearly a year.”
Crap. A year?
“In fact, the day he was in Ostmount securing a squire was the same night he came to my bedroom and whisked me away.”
So that was where he vanished to. That big job of his to accomplish while Hayley nearly ran away from this opportunity. Nearly turned tail and scuttled back into the sewers. It hadn’t even been a year, but the thought of returning was as foreign to her as flying through the air.
“Sounds, uh, romantic?” guessed the girl whose only brush with romance was a stableboy trying to yank her top off and a squire confessing she was pretty before he died.
“In truth,” Myra smiled brighter than the sun, her green eyes much softer and sweeter than Larissa’s, “he nearly dropped me, twice.”
“Really?” Hayley giggled at the thought of her knight struggling to keep his bride aloft in his arms as they trucked off to the church. “I shall have to mention that to him whenever he’s on me to do my chores.” She meant to whisper that to herself but Myra must have heard as she too laughed.
They were married. Not just courting, or trading kisses in a barn, or any of that other in-between stuff. Full on married. Hayley spent a year with him and all she saw was a bachelor, one that could somewhat keep himself alive if not on occasion prove to be a good cook or launderer. This was bonkers. God, she wished she could tell Ania, at least. How was Hayley gonna keep a straight face every time some other poor girl threw herself at Gavin’s feet hoping for his attention? She was liable to dislocate a jaw before the month was out.
“Can I ask you something?” Hayley spoke up, shattering the sudden quiet between the two. Myra tipped her head, then brushed back her white-gold hair. “What would you do if he doesn’t win the tournament?”
Myra’s tongue lapped her lips a moment, the woman clutching tighter to her shoulders as she thought. “It’d be a year, more than a year before he could earn back what was lost. So close and to…” Her head dropped and she took in a steadying breath. “I suppose I’d wait, fend off any of my father’s attempts to wed me away, and squirrel away what coin I could.”
“But he can’t…I mean, ain’t that how it works? You only get married once and that’s it? Unless one of them dies…” Hayley said to herself before she grimaced at the heartbreak shattering over Myra’s face. No. Gavin was this fancy, famous knight. Her father wouldn’t have him killed just to-to trade away his daughter. That’s…
Hayley’s fingers skirted over her thigh, cupping the sore but mending tattoo that hid away her past. That denied to the world that her parents sold her off without a thought. With stone certainty, Hayley said to Myra, “He’ll win. He’ll win it all without breaking a sweat.”
“Your optimism is encouraging,” Myra smiled. “Any chance you might be a secret prophet and Gavin never mentioned?”
“No, no…he mentioned me?” Hayley gasped. Stupid. Just because he didn’t tell her about Myra didn’t mean he wouldn’t tell his wife about his squire. Oh shit. How much did he tell her?
“Often. In letters mostly, but in person from time to time as well,” Myra said.
“What, uh, no. No, I don’t want to know.” Hayley whipped her head back and forth trying to blot away the thought. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.
“While there were some growing pains at first, he sounds very glad to have you around,” Myra said, a hand swooping around Hayley’s shoulders.
The girl gulped, her face whipping over to the beautiful woman. “Really?”
“Yes, really…” Myra assured her before the smile began to fade and she glanced up to find Gavin all but running back to them
. “Is something…?” she began, her tone petrified.
Gavin was staring only at Hayley, causing the squire to sink deeper into her shoulders, but he caught his wife’s worry and smiled. “No, we’re…” His warm brown hand cut through the air to scoop up Myra’s, a thumb massaging the back of it to assure her. “It’s actually a matter for Hayley.”
“I swear I didn’t take nothing!” She raised up her hands which were clean…in the metaphorical sense. Glancing over she caught a smear of raspberry jam leftover from the pie wedged into the crease of her thumb. “I bought that.”
Gavin’s smile strained at her panic. “The squire rounds. I had hoped to give you another day but there was an accident. No one was hurt horribly, just a horse stomping the feet of two squires who were to joust today.”
Horses were evil. As if Hayley needed any more reasons to tell Finn… Crud. She’d probably not tell Finn anything ever again. The whole Gavin being married to the mystery blonde lady sort of shook all that away, but Hayley began to sink deeper into herself until her knight stood right before her.
“They’ve moved up your round to today. An hour from now it is to begin,” Gavin said. “I tried to plead for more time, but the judges wouldn’t budge again.”
“My leg…” Hayley pointed at the obvious bulge of bandages. She could stand, she could walk for a short time, but running or doing that twist, dodge thing was pretty much out of the question. Which Gavin knew.
“I know,” his head hung down, the chin nearly skimming off his chest. “If you were to drop out, it’d be the end of your run until next year.”
He thought there’d be a next year. He was so certain of it, Gavin didn’t even pause. He was glad to have her around?
Shaking off the throb in her thigh, Hayley stood up taller. “I’ll do it.”
“Hayley, if it hurts, if you fear that you’ll rip open the wound, or…or you’re worried of further injury…”
“I said,” she slapped a hand to his arm to get him to stop talking, “I’ll do it. I got to, right.” Her eyes drifted over to Myra who was yet clinging to her husband’s hand. Without that coin, they were back to a long distance marriage trapped in the dark. If she didn’t even try, it was as good as saying that Gavin wasn’t worth her effort.
“You don’t have to,” her knight insisted, almost as if he didn’t want her out there. He’d been tracking her healing progress obsessively, much to Hayley’s annoyance, and even trapped in this corner he didn’t seem to think it smart for her to risk it.
Wiping her jam-smeared hand over her pants, Hayley cupped the hilt of her sword and stood up higher. “Yeah I do, ‘cause I’m a squire.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The left bracer slipped from her fingers, Hayley straining to reach for it, but her entire chest was held in place. Gavin didn’t let up for a moment, trying to help tie her into the leather armor as fast as possible. He insisted she didn’t run to the arena, which meant there was a very angry man in red and green stripes glaring as the late squire sauntered in.
“I’ll get it,” Ania said, bending over where Hayley couldn’t and scooping up the lost bracer.
“Thanks,” Hayley nodded, sliding it on and fishing for the inner buckle. Her brain was bouncing faster than a seed in a windstorm. Before, she’d been able to take the time to prepare herself, dig deep into that impenetrable glare of a warrior. Now, her jittery brain was locked on her knight being married and she couldn’t say anything about it to anyone.
Ania’s hand landed on Hayley’s upper arm, the girl smiling.“You’ll do great.”
“Glad one of us thinks that,” Hayley muttered to herself. Her knight hadn’t said much, just helped to get her geared up quickly. For a breath, Gavin’s eyes darted to hers, but he didn’t voice what they both knew. She had to do well for him to have a chance at getting enough money so he could rescue his wife out from under her father’s thumb. And she had to do it while her leg was still oozing with bandage changes. No pressure at all.
Damn. Hayley gazed over the ripped up ground of the arena, most of the dirt churned to sand from horses charging back and forth in jousts. The rails were put away, but the ground remained uneven and desolate. She’d have to cross it and climb into the ring, all without wincing once.
“Your opponent,” Ania’s voice chattered behind Hayley’s ear, “he’s good, but when thrusting will give a bit too much of a lead in his arm. Leaves his other side exposed for a moment you could take advantage of.”
Hayley blinked slowly, churning through Ania’s words. “How do you know that?”
“Just…” she shrugged, tugging on the knot in her hair scarf as a distraction, “something I noticed when…watching. To pass the time and…”
“Is that your spread?” Hayley caught an array of beads perched upon one of the tables. Practically all of them were interlinked, barely any slots left open where a hole emerged. Ania had a lot of good guess at who would win and who’d be tossed off in defeat.
“Uh,” the blush made it clear past her white mark and kept on to the ear. “It, yes. I had some extra coins and…”
“How much have you won?” Hayley gasped.
“I’m up a few groats, here and there. Though, it’s better to play smart than put it all on one proverbial throw of the dice.” Ania shrugged again as if she should be embarrassed that her spread easily outdid most of the hardened gamblers wandering around the tents outside.
Another prickle rose up Hayley’s legs and she gulped. “How much did you put on me?” There was no good answer. Too much and she’d feel guilty as hell knowing that she was likely to lose her friend’s coin. Too little and she’d feel like shit walking right into a fight.
Ania’s eyes darted to Gavin’s for a second, no doubt the pair thinking the same. Hayley should be all snarling war bear, not sniveling chicken worried about her scratch. “This isn’t the fight to put all the money down on. Better to build up to the next one you have.”
Hayley snickered at the most diplomatic knot Ania tied herself in. She began to pat the girl’s shoulder when the judge, a woman this time, shook her mighty staff of bells. This was it.
Hayley launched her hands around Ania’s shoulders, tugging her friend tight in a hug. “You’ll do great,” Ania cheered as Hayley stepped back and lifted her sword.
Ania was a terrible liar, but Hayley smiled all the same. As she stepped out of the cool overhang of the stands, her eyes darted up to find the seats practically half full. Hundreds, maybe even a thousand eyes were staring directly at her. Oh god, and how many were glaring at her thigh waiting for a telltale limp? Head up, gait steady. Focus on the task at hand.
Just saving your Knight and the woman he loves. That’s not a lot of pressure at all. Hayley was halfway across the dirt before she realized she had no idea who she was fighting. While Ania spent most of the time sitting in their ground-level booth, Hayley was often doing other things like napping, or reading, or picking up particularly shiny rocks she found. She was the worst squire in the history of knighthood.
At the iron ring, Hayley skirted her hands over the cold metal that stood a little below waist level. Moment of truth. What would happen if she couldn’t even get into it? If the pain was so bad, she was stuck outside? Would they call it all off or let her try and fight beside it?
With her good leg in the lead, Hayley managed to swing the left over the obstacle. It seemed a smart move until she realized she had to put all her body weight on the bad one to continue. Blinding pain chewed through her leg, up her side, and tried to rattle her brains around. Her fingers bit into the metal wall, refusing to let herself fall. Honing all her concentration on this one move, Hayley tried to ignore the pain, ignore the urge to puke on the dirt, and shifted her weight to her left leg.
As the force abetted so too did the pain, bringing a strangely light-headed feeling. She slipped over the wall, barely the bottom of her heel dinging against the lip as Hayley came to rest inside. Step one over.
A
smattering of cheers broke from that little move. Hayley glanced up at the crowd, some of which seemed to be waiting for better to start, their heads barely tipped down to see. Giddiness rising in her brain, she yanked free her sword and held it aloft. Hayley didn’t move, didn’t run the circle in some chant, but she did smile wide as more of the bored eyes swung to the crazy squire.
“Ahem,” a woman coughed from beside, and Hayley turned towards the judge. Right, the checking. She folded her blade into her hands, well aware how blunt it was, when Hayley caught her competition dashing for the ring.
A smile broke. Despite the fact she was injured, despite the monumental pressure resting upon her shoulders, she was happy to see Abed made it this far too. He bowed his head to the judge, who tried to scoot him into the ring already. Favoring the longsword as well, Abed unsheathed his own and lay it flat for the judge.
Standing beside each other for the inspection, Hayley said, “Hi.”
“This was an unexpected combat,” Abed said between gulps of air. He sounded as if he’d had to run just to make it. That could be a great advantage for her.
“Tell me about it,” Hayley muttered. “Think it turned my knight white.”
Abed blinked madly, his head swinging to her as a smile rose bright. “That would be something to see.”
“I didn’t mean, I… Okay, it would be.” Hayley tipped her head to the side, trying to picture Gavin as white as the Master of Tourney with big red circles on his cheeks. He’d probably look terrifying for a whole different set of reasons.
“They’re good,” the judge grumped, already staggering back. Under the spackled layers of white paint, Hayley could see quite a few wrinkles cracking it apart — more evidence she was too old for some smart ass kids.
Hayley turned to her place when her wound throbbed. Unprepared for the attack from below her skin, she nearly pitched to the side. Her waning sword banged into the wall, drawing every eye to the girl about to crumple to her feet. No. No, she had to do this. Shaking off the pain, Hayley moved to rise, when Abed swept his hand around her arm.