by S E Zbasnik
This was it.
Hayley drew the staff back high, savoring all the force her muscles were capable of. Larissa screwed her eyes up tight, her hands flexing into her thighs as the staff’s blunt end cracked through the air. The entire stadium fell silent, everyone surging forward to watch as Hayley slashed Larissa’s own weapon through the air. At the last possible second, Hayley threw all her strength into reverse and gently tapped the end into Larissa’s cheek. A great red dot of dye dripped from the spot, spilling onto her smock’s collar as Hayley chuckled.
Yanking the staff away and placing the killer end into the dirt, Hayley turned to the Tourney Master. “I’d say that’s the fight,” she announced softly, but as every tongue was held it carried clean across the stadium. Wide eyes practically pooling in fear turned from the still very alive squire to the other panting standing one.
With a nod, the Tourney Master hefted up her staff and gave the bells a great shake — which was when every spectator in the arena leapt to their feet. Hayley couldn’t say if they were cheering or booing, her ears were clogged with the heartbeat roaring in her thigh. She limped closer to Larissa and stuck her hand out.
“Brained by my own staff,” Larissa snarled, her head tipping up. There were no tears in her eyes, only the side of her red cheek was crying. Shaking her head as if this was all a bad dream, Larissa took Hayley’s hand and together they rose up.
“Tunics please,” the Tourney Master ordered, both girls quickly yanking off their living scorecards. Both were passed to the judges, who’d evaluate what did and didn’t count for a point as the pair stood before the crowd.
“Here.” Larissa bent over and retrieved Hayley’s lost sword.
“Guess you’ll want this back too.” She passed the staff back, glad to have it out of her fingers.
Larissa fell quiet, her palms inching up and down the wood as if it personally betrayed her. “I thought this entire thing a farce,” she whispered to herself.
“What? How?” Hayley gasped.
Her eyes fractured, her sneering lips for once stilled to uncertainty. “You have them, all of them,” Larissa waved her hand around the crowd who seemed to be on the cheering side of things now. It was still hard to say. There was a lot of garbage being hurled near the wall. “I’d assumed that…that you’d walk away a winner no matter what.”
“That you’d have to throw the fight?”
Larissa sighed. “That I wouldn’t be allowed to fight at all. That I would be expected to rein myself in. Not doing my best, not giving it my all…” Now there were tears in her eyes, such large ones Hayley almost leapt backwards. “I fear it far more than failure.”
Bobbing her head, Hayley’s wagging tongue fell flat in her mouth. She sure as shit didn’t like Larissa, never would, but at least the girl wasn’t chasing her around screaming that only she deserved to win. Though…it sure seemed to be taking the judges a long time.
Both were clustered right next to the scoreboard where the points remained obnoxiously the same. Come on, it couldn’t be that hard. Even Hayley could count. Adding wasn’t too hard, or subtracting. She was really good at subtracting, come to think of it.
What was keeping them?
“Why is this taking so long?” Larissa voiced her confusion when the Tourney Master finally stepped back from the judges. Their splattered tunics were both passed to runners who’d gift them to the proper Lords or Ladies that paid good money for the right to wear them. Gavin tried to explain it all, but Hayley was nearly hyperventilating at that point before the fight. Now, she was trying to watch the servants vanish with her red soaked tunic because it’d stop her nervous fidgeting as the Tourney Master hopped over the metal ring.
Using her staff of bells as a cane, the woman walked directly in front of both Hayley and Larissa. Her head craned up high to take in the multitude watching. “This was a close one, gifting us a most exciting round for the finals. But a count has been taken thoroughly and the points tallied properly. It is with great pleasure I may announce the winner of the squire first class for the Grand Tournament is…”
All breath froze in Hayley’s lungs, her palm squeezing tighter and tighter to her sword. Her eyes darted up to the crowd that seemed to be leaning on the edge of their seats. Somewhere up there was Finn, probably with Nell at his side, but all she could see were spots. Dots of colors, and tans, and whites all filled her vision as she hung upon the Tourney Master’s next words.
“…Squire Frederick!”
No.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Fire burned on her cheeks and her stomach froze solid. Hayley barely remembered stepping out of the ring, all of the crowd gazing upon a triumphant Larissa. She was pumping her fists in the air and dancing in a circle until an equally happy Frederick ran to her side. The proud knight swept his winning squire into his arms, crushing her in joy. Hayley couldn’t even look up from her shoes, her feet unable to rise from the ground as she shuffled back to the safety of the shadows.
For a breath, she risked looking up into the stands. The people who’d been happy to cheer for her, who’d been waiting on bated breath for her to bash in Larissa’s skull, were now all roaring for the girl they’d wanted brained. All marrow was stripped from Hayley’s bones, her hollow skeleton slinking away from the fickle love above her.
Why did she let herself care?
Ducking into the solitude of their encampment, Hayley’s eyes tried to fixate upon the barrel where she’d last seen Ania. It was empty. Not even a girl-shaped fog remained from where she ran away fast upon realizing the truth about Hayley. You didn’t want to be her friend because she was a loser. Always and forever.
She yanked hard on the scabbard belt, cinching her stomach so tight the stone in her guts lifted up into her lungs. Hayley gasped at the pain bursting from the move, but as she released the pull of the leather it wasn’t relief that flooded in its wake — only emptiness.
“Squire…”
Damn it. Hayley wiped at her eyes, surprised to find a spray of tears splattered over the back of her hand. Biting into her lip, the broken girl raised her head to try and meet her knight’s eye. The knight who was so accomplished full-grown warriors practically fainted at the sight of him. The man who needed her to succeed or he’d risk losing the love of his life. The only person to give Hayley a second stupid chance. The one she failed.
She expected a snarl. Perhaps a cold tip of his head before he officially dismissed her from his service and into the woods. When a warm palm landed upon her shoulder, her head whipped over to it in shock.
Gavin balked. “I didn’t hit your wound, did I?”
Shaking her head no, Hayley stared forlornly at his set of fingers clinging to her. Funny, his ring finger was longer than the pointer. Did that mean something special? Probably that he was destined for great things until he let a rock named Hayley land in the way.
“I’m sorry, Ser,” Hayley sputtered, her frozen guts melting into tears.
“Whatever for?”
“I failed you,” she spat out, squeezing her eyes tight to keep him from watching her cry. It was there, plain as day. Had been since winter. If she wasn’t a good squire, if she dropped the ball, then she was out.
Gavin sighed, no doubt thinking through what new squire he’d pick up now. There were quite a few options out there who’d love working for him, or maybe he’d select from the next round of tryouts under Erin. The hand released off of Hayley’s shoulders, but she didn’t look at him until his soft voice asked, “Did you not do your very best?”
“Well…yeah,” she spat out, glancing back to the ring. Hayley hadn’t paused for a second, didn’t wither, didn’t run away. She tried to outthink the impossible odds, but in the end, it wasn’t enough. “But it didn’t matter.”
“Did you not train, work yourself as much as possible to prepare?”
“You know I did,” Hayley spat at him, tired of this sudden turn. If he was going to get rid of her then do it already!
A tight smile twisted up his lips as he cocked his head to the side. “Then you didn’t fail me, Squire. I dare say your showing was impressive for the first class. Rather theatrical, but I’ve come to expect that from you.”
“You’re…” Hayley rapped a hand to her skull, certain she misheard that. “You’re not mad at me? You’re not going to…to…”
“To what?” He pressed as if he didn’t understand.
Don’t bloody put it in his head. “Never mind,” Hayley spat out to give herself distance while trying to wiggle out of her hauberk. She placed it upon their stand, the same one Hayley would try to cut to pieces beside the babbling brook back home.
Back at the estate.
“I’m sorry though,” Hayley babbled, “for not winning. For making it harder for you to win the tourney for your w…for the money.” She shouldn’t care, but some stupid part of her wanted her knight to be happy. To not always be on edge and taking jobs that could get him killed. Plus, if he was often busy with his wife, Hayley could probably sneak out more.
“Do not worry about that,” Gavin said, his voice still soothing — like a cool rag on a hot day. “Hayley, what you accomplished out there was nothing short of a miracle. No, not a miracle.”
She flinched at how quickly he backed off on the praise before Gavin continued, “A miracle implies godly intervention, but I’ve watched you grow, learn, hone yourself. You did all that. You held the most promising squire to a single point difference. That is impressive by any standard.”
“I just…” Hayley sniffed in the tears, a wave washing through her ears as goosebumps rose up her skin. “I thought that-that you’d all hate me because I lost.”
“There can only be a handful of winners, it is the nature of these bouts. Most everyone here has lost at some point, has staggered away bloodied and head bent. But at the end of the day, we are still comrades. We still serve beside each other. We laugh and care for one another. You put everything inside of you out on the field, and that may not always win the day, but it can be the difference between someone’s life or death.”
Another sob racked up Hayley’s throat as her heart erupted into sparks. She drew her sleeve up her nose, trying to wipe all the snot away as a stupid smile played over her face. He didn’t hate her. He wasn’t going to send her away because she tried. It wasn’t enough this time, but…
“I guess there’s always next year,” Hayley said with a laugh and tip of her head. She turned to lay her sword out on the table, her fingers glancing over the grip stained with both the blue dye and her real blood.
“Yes, next year’s fights.” Gavin’s gaze drifted to his shoes. “And you should do it,” from behind his back he extracted out a long tube covered in a pile of burlap, “with this.”
Hayley took a step closer, her fingers parting the air as if afraid whatever was under there might snap out and bite her. Risking a quick peek, Hayley raised just the edge to spot a glimmer of black and greenest jade below. That caused her to rip the burlap away revealing the gorgeous serpent sword from the marketplace. It glistened even in the shadowed light, calling for Hayley’s hand.
“It’s for me?” she asked while picking it up. Her fingers cinched perfectly around the grip, the crossguard of snakes shielding her hand from any enemy blows.
Her knight smiled wider, practically showing off all of his bright teeth. “Indeed it is.”
“But, why? I lost. I won’t get the…” The beautiful sword dipped lower towards the ground, fading along with Hayley’s exuberance. “I didn’t win, I can’t deserve it.” Did he buy it because he was certain she’d walk away triumphant? Maybe he could sell it back and recoup some of his…
“This isn’t for you winning in the tournament,” Gavin said. “It’s because you showed up, because you came ready and willing to do what was necessary. You won this before you even stepped into that ring.”
Dashing forward, Hayley wrapped both her hands around Gavin. Her face buried into his stomach, tears of joy staining her cheeks. “Thank you,” she bawled against his tunic, her face bouncing against the taut muscle below. Gavin’s hands both hung in the air as if he was terrified to touch her. Oh, right.
“That, uh…” Hayley lessened her killer grip but she didn’t fully release. She wasn’t ready yet. “That’s a friendly hug, like a…master and apprentice one.”
The tension, Gavin crackling into a laugh as he let his hands brush over her shoulders. “Understood, and you’re welcome.”
“It’s not just for the…” Hayley began before yanking it all back. Didn’t matter, wasn’t worth saying anyway.
A beam of sunlight burst over the silver edge, Hayley twisting her sword until the sun highlighted one of the jade snakes. The sword was the fanciest and prettiest thing she’d ever owned, legally or otherwise. It had to cost him a great deal and he gave it to her without question. Trusted her to not flake out and run.
“I wish I’d won,” she muttered to herself while stepping away from her knight’s hug.
“Did I ever tell you where I ranked in my first attempt at the tourney?” Gavin whispered.
Hayley didn’t look up from the blade, her palm laying flat to the surface as she reveled in the cold touch. “Let me guess, you trounced everyone in the way and dazzled the King himself.”
“No,” Gavin snorted. “Not even close.”
Her eyebrows scrunched in tighter as Hayley turned to him, “Second? No, that’s too perfect a tale.” She kept guessing as Gavin waved his head. “Third, maybe? Fourth.”
“Seventh.”
“Seventh! But you’re…everyone adores you, says you’re the greatest knight to ever wear the shield, pick up a sword, and stab people. They-they’re all in love with you!” She waved her hand out to the stands and for a moment Gavin grimaced at the thought.
“And when I began I was skinnier than you, with ears the size of my elbows, and a frame that supported no muscle. But that didn’t stop me. I did as you. I trained, worked hard every day, honed myself for the prize.”
“To win the Grand Tourney?”
Gavin smiled. “To survive the journey. There’s always another Tourney, always another war, another challenge, another battle. If you want to make it, and I think you can do this Squire, the first rule is to never give up. Never rest upon your laurels. Because if you stop, then the journey ends.”
That both seemed incredibly obvious and also made no sense. Hayley scrunched her face up in confusion and tipped her head, “Ser?”
Before he could explain, Ania came dashing for them, her arms swooped around a jug and a set of mugs. Both squire and knight turned to the girl who smiled wide. “I got the good stuff! Ooh, is that the sword?” Her eyes glistened upon the blade in Hayley’s hands as she laughed. Ania didn’t abandon her, neither did Gavin.
While Hayley shifted her blade around, Gavin sighed. “I believe I shall leave you both to enjoy the rest of the champion bouts.”
“Where will you be seated?” Ania spun to him, concerned he’d be missing out.
As Gavin’s cheeks turned ruddy, Hayley caught on quick to what his plans were and where. “Uh, Ser, if it’s okay, I was thinking after the matches I’d head off to the squire tables to…ya know commiserate with the rest of the losers.” Her knight’s brow furrowed until she added, “So I won’t be back to the tent until late at night.”
“Ah,” he bounded his head, the smile rising higher as she snickered to himself, “good idea. Excellent. I shall see you in the morning, Squire. Ania.”
While he bounced away to no doubt get all naked and stuff with his wife, Ania stared hard in his wake. She jostled the mugs before asking, “What was that matter about?”
“I’ll…probably be able to explain it to you after the tourney,” Hayley said cryptically. “Now, let’s try this mead you swiped.”
“Bought.”
“Same difference.”
“Stay close to me,” Hayley insisted, a hand wrapped around Ania’s shoulders as the pai
r staggered towards the official squire tables. They were sequestered upwind from the stables, with a handful of lanterns dangling off of sticks to illuminate the mass of belligerent teenagers hopping up and down around a coveted cask.
“Should I even be here?” Ania whispered, her hip banging into Hayley’s scabbard. The moment the serpent sword was in her hand, Hayley refused to put it down. As that made drinking rather difficult, Ania got her to at least shove it in a scabbard. Hayley planned to sleep with it on, perhaps for a year or two.
“It’ll be fine,” Hayley insisted despite having no idea what the rules were. If there even were rules.
There were four tables in all, pivoted in random angles with benches pulled up flush. Most squires were either sitting on the tabletop with their feet on the bench or wandering around the grassy area. A couple stood real close to the lanterns, trying to wave their fingers through the flame fast before burning the skin. It was one of those who glanced up at Hayley wandering in, his eyes sizing her up.
“SG,” he announced, pointing a finger and chuckling at her.
“Yup, SG, that’d be me. Whoopee?”
“Ha,” the older squire laughed at her barely thought out rhyme before eyeing up Ania. “Who’s that? Only squires here.”
Ania squirmed at the glare, her eyes darting to the side as she withered deeper into her dress. “I told you,” she whispered, but Hayley wouldn’t hear it.
“Nah, it’s good. She’s a squire in training,” Hayley insisted with all the it’s-not-lying-if-you-sound-convincing in her marrow. If she believed Ania belonged, then Ania belonged.
“Squire in…?” the boy continued when a voice thundered from the largest table.
“Hayley! Get your ass over here!” Tish shouted, easily trampling the boy that’d been trying to burn his fingers off.
With a shrug, Hayley escorted Ania deeper into the circle of weary but slightly buzzed squires. Eyes drifted towards them both, but as Tish leaned out to take Hayley’s hand, they all wandered back to their plates and steins.