Squire Hayseed

by S E Zbasnik

  “That was a hell of a match you pulled off,” Tish cheered, bringing a blush of shame to Hayley’s cheeks. Even with the sword at her side and her knight’s assurances in her ears, she still hated losing, her tongue tasting of ash from the failure. “Most of the first class are so poorly matched, the champion fight is over like that,” Tish continued, snapping her fingers. “But you two were like watching a pair of hounds snarl over a rabbit. Even had John over there clapping his hands.”

  She gestured to a dark-haired man with a wispy pointed beard. He was huddled deep into the collar of his shirt trying to meet no one’s eyes. But as three girls stared at him, shattering his ennui armor, he finally glanced up and shot out his lower lip. “Did not.”

  “Right, so it was some other black-leather-clad squire I saw tapping his foot in the stands,” Tish jabbed, causing the boy to scowl deeper even as his cheeks reddened. “Boys. Ignore him. Ignore ‘em all, in fact. Best advice my knight ever gave me. Who’s that?”

  Her ranting about the stupidity of boys faded as she finally took in the girl practically standing on top of Hayley. “This is Ania,” she said, trying to sign at least Ania’s name while turning to face the girl. “And this is Tish. Another squire.”

  Tish lashed her hand out, putting both around Ania’s in order to cup hers for safekeeping. “One that Hayley fished out of the fire, no less. It makes me feel better being rescued by a firster who splattered that much dye in the championship bout.”

  “That…” Ania’s eyes dipped down as if she didn’t want to see what was being said about her. “I caught your fight. You held your stance as long as possible, but the weight of your opponent was against you.”

  “Yeah,” Tish remarked, a smile rising on her cheeks. “Ain’t no one else here caught that. Even Rodger thinks he’s just better skilled. If so, he wouldn’t a been laid out in his next round like a codger-less bilge rat. You’re quick.”

  “I…” The servant girl was in full on blushing mode, her hand trying to tug the hair scarf further over her forehead.

  “We should get you all something to drink!” Tish shouted, but it was Ania who bounced up.

  “I’ll do it!” She dashed for the casks before either Tish or Hayley could call her off, both watching her go.

  Hayley turned away first, taking into account the squires from the entire order all mixing together. A few, she noticed, fought against each other just a few hours earlier. But in the cool light of dusk, they were slapping backs and cracking jokes, not a touch of animosity between them.

  “She’s damn quick,” Tish whispered as if to herself before her eyes darted over to Hayley’s. Somehow her voice dropped even lower to add, “And pretty too.”

  “Uh…” Hayley, despite having seen Ania nearly day in and day out for a year still staggered up higher to try and catch a glimpse of her. “Yeah, she is. I guess.”

  “You guess? Oh, I get it, I get it.” Tish bobbed her head.

  Get what? Hayley scratched her fingers over her forehead trying to find any sense in this when she noticed a small section of bench with red fabric draped over it. ‘Winners’ was written in gold, and while none of the actual squire champions sat there, it did cause Hayley’s brain to slot the facts together.

  “Where’s Larissa?” She whipped her head around, expecting to find that glowing red hair lurking in the middle of a mass of hulking squires. No doubt tittering on and on about how it was easy for her to take down that Hayseed. That she didn’t even have to break a sweat.

  But the only red in the area was burned into drunk lips and eyes. Larissa was nowhere to be found. “I thought for sure she’d be here, talking up her game, or at least rubbing her win in my face.”

  Tish took in the grounds once more before shrugging. “Perhaps she’ll arrive later. Some of the other squires are missing. Ah!” She turned fully to Ania who placed the filled clay mugs on the table. “You’re delightful,” Tish smiled wider at her, causing the blush to burst over Ania’s white mark.

  But when Tish’s eyes drifted over to Hayley who was cradling her mug in thought, the smile dipped and so did Tish’s outburst. “Here,” Tish raised her mug high through the air.

  The other two bounced their mugs against Tish’s, though gently so the cheap clay didn’t crack in half. “To the Tourney and the long days yet to come.”

  “To the losers,” Hayley added, tugging her mug to her lips and drowning her sorrows in spiced vinegar with a hint of honey. Drink enough of it and it wouldn’t matter what it tasted like.

  “Aye,” Tish laughed after her sip, “we are the worst of the best, but it’s better than being the best of the worst.”

  As the sun gave way to a blinding white moon bursting over the tree line, their smaller party grew to another five squires whom Tish all talked them up to. Ania stayed nearish to Hayley, but with enough mead and time, she began to dart around talking shop. Luckily, the other squires were blitzed enough they didn’t care who Ania really was. Most were having trouble keeping track of her lightning-fast tactics anyway.

  Hayley’s entire body began to tingle, warning her she needed to slow on the mead or wind up in a ditch come morning. As Tish led a game of “Grab Roger’s trousers” Hayley sat upon the edge of the winner’s table staring at her sword. She could scarcely believe it was in her fingers, belonged to her, that she’d be able to unleash it against foes and friends alike.

  “It’s beautiful,” Ania said loudly, trying to compensate for the rambunctious laughter as Roger was stripped down to very little. She placed a lantern upon the table between them, then leapt up to sit beside Hayley.

  “It is,” Hayley signed before placing her blade into Ania’s lap. It took a breath before Ania’s slender fingers caressed the grip and hefted it into the sky. She batted at the clouds the same way Hayley did when first arriving at the estate. No training, no skill, no idea she could do anything asked of her. And here she was, sitting with all the other squires as one of them at the Grand Tourney itself.

  “Finn has been prodding me about you,” Ania said, her eyes fully honing away from the sword to Hayley’s lips. She must have known Hayley did not want to talk about it, as the squire bundled her hands deep into her armpits. “Often. Is there any reason or…?”

  “What’s it matter? Huh? He’s practically suckered to that girl and then acts like I’m the wrong one. I’m cruel for not talking to him, mean for…” Hayley’s thoughts tumbled away as she thought of poor Abed stuck to her arm. That was kinda mean. She spun clear away from Ania to find the boy chattering away with a couple of the second years. Seemed everyone was really impressed with his whole taking a knee to the injured girl. It probably helped that Hayley then nearly won. If she’d been soundly trounced, Abed wouldn’t hear the end of his wasted chance.

  Whatever he was talking about faded and he looked up, sensing Hayley staring at him. For a beat, he raised his mug at her and smiled. She returned the look despite having an empty hand.

  “Do you like him?” Ania asked.

  “What? Who? Abed? No, he’s just a…” Friend was a reach. Fellow squire seemed obvious. But a lot of people were wondering why he did what he did for Hayley. “The battle, the one everyone keeps acting like I was some big hero for. It didn’t go well. Abed and I both lost someone who… He’s just nice. Maybe too nice for his own good. That’s it.”

  It took Ania a moment to piece together all of Hayley’s babble into something coherent. Exhausted beyond belief, Hayley leaned back on her elbows to stare up at the sky. There were no confounding boys in the stars, no would-be friends calling her pretty skipping through the constellations. Up there everything was a shining point of light, stark and pure without a drop of sweaty palms and constricted hearts.

  “Why did you ask who?” Ania asked.

  Damn it. “‘Cause…” Hayley dropped her head down and shuddered. Even with the warm breath of summer around them, she felt chilled to the marrow. She hated that she liked Finn, hated that she even entertained the id
ea. And hated more that her stupid heart wouldn’t stop liking him either.

  “I see,” Ania arrived at the answer herself. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

  “Tell me what?”

  Ania snorted. “Finn would always curse about it to anyone in earshot or signing distance. But, I suppose he would keep it from you.”

  What in the world was she going on about? Hayley twisted her head to the side, trying to read Ania’s lips herself as if that might draw sense to her brain.

  “He’s betrothed.”

  Shit.

  “Has been since they were both six, seven, something in that range. Finn can’t stand her.”

  “Seemed to like her just fine when I saw them,” Hayley snarled to herself.

  “Okay, he claims he can’t stand her, but also that his father makes him lavish attention upon her.”

  “Let me guess, her dad has a bunch of stuff that his dad wants. And the only way to get it is…” Dear lord, was that what every single marriage in this world meant? My father and your father want to merge our business so let’s just marry our kids off. Who cares if they hate each other, or are secretly plotting to try and murder the other behind their back. All that matters is we gets lots of gold to roll around in.

  “Most everyone at the estate knows, even if Finn wanders around like he’s not going to be married off once he comes of age. I’m sorry I didn’t…” Ania faded into her hands, but Hayley grabbed them both.

  “No, it ain’t your fault. It’s his. He could have said something. At least told me so I could…I could decide myself.”

  “Would you have, um…” A blush rose upon Ania’s cheeks visible even by the washed out light of the lantern. “Kept on with him even knowing he was promised to another?”

  She wanted to say no, of course not. Hayley was not some kind of harpy who swooped up other girl’s toys. But she didn’t want to lie to Ania either. Finn hovering around her, paying her attention, wanting to kiss her — it made her feel good. Warmer inside than she had felt since before the brand.

  Kicking her foot through the air, Hayley sighed. “Don’t matter anyhow. He lied and I sure as shit ain’t dealing with that mess now. Boys are dumb.”

  “Often,” Ania nodded. So dumb that they’d run headfirst into a mass of swords to save their master. Dumb enough to bend to a knee when they coulda won. And stupid, so incredibly stupid that they’d let someone like Hayley into their house and hide away her brand forever.

  “Look, I,” Hayley leapt to the ground and sloshed back and forth on her feet, “I got to go take a piss.” She needed some time to herself, but her bladder was also pressing from all the mead.

  “I can come with,” Ania began, but Hayley waved her hand.

  “Nah, stay. Impress them all with your wit and battle skills,” Hayley said, causing Ania to roll her eyes. Just before walking away, Hayley added, “Oh, and Tish over there said you were pretty.”

  “What?” Ania drew a palm to her cheek, hiding away the white mark as she sized up a very drunk Tish.

  “Have fun. I’ll see you back at the tent later!” Hayley called backwards before spinning to face out towards the winding stream. It circled the grounds, gifting the knights, squires, and all the fancy spectators more or less clean water. It was also a popular spot to gaze out over the horizon while taking a piss.

  The dancing squires and firelight all faded to a gentle glow in the distance as Hayley approached a hidden enough spot behind some scrub brush. She began to unbuckle her scabbard and yank down her trousers when a noise rattled her ears. It mewled like a kitten gasping for air, or a man that just emerged out of the cold. The gasps of pain were dry as a bone, but they wouldn’t cease either.

  Forgetting her incessant bladder, Hayley began to trail through the bushes after the noise. The glow of the moon guided her around clumps of tall grass and foot-tall saplings to find a back hunched over on the ground. It keened, crying without proper tears. Hayley flinched with the next round, about to reach out and shake the person, when the head rose and a flash of red pierced the dark purple sky.

  “What are you doing?” Hayley shouted in surprise.

  Larissa’s cries froze mid-bawl, her head whipping over to find Hayley glaring down at her. “Go away!” she snarled, all of those tears burned into her voice. It was so raw she sounded as if she’d been crying for hours. When Hayley didn’t scamper away instantly, Larissa added, “Leave me alone!” She buried her face deep into her lap and wouldn’t rise.

  What was the point of caring? She wanted to whine and cry out in the ticks and bugs, let her. It wasn’t Hayley’s problem after all. “No.” The mead sloshing around in her gut leapt up into her skull and pressed on her brain. Rather than do the sober thing and walk away, Hayley pressed tighter to Larissa. “I won’t. What is your problem? What? You mad ‘cause you didn’t beat me hard enough? ‘Cause you didn’t win with a single stroke of perfection?”

  Larissa remained hunched over, both her hands digging deep into the mud. She wouldn’t answer, but Hayley wasn’t stopping either. “Every god damn time with you, you’re all perfect and destined for this. The best squire ever, acting like the rest of us are all shit stuck to your shoe. Well, princess, you won. You’re the champion of the Tourney, so what do you have to cry about?!”

  “I said to leave me alone!” Larissa spun out, a hand trying to reach for Hayley’s ankle and yank her to the ground. But even with her veins buzzing, Hayley had enough sense to dodge it. In attacking, Larissa turned her lap towards the moonlight and Hayley’s jaw dropped.

  “Is that blood?” she gasped, pointing to the damp dark puddle in the middle of her thighs.

  She didn’t know what she expected Larissa to do. Throw things. Curse at her with that tutor-induced vocabulary. Maybe punch her. But when a pair of arms wrapped around Hayley’s legs and buried her head deep to mask the sobs, a pit opened up in Hayley’s guts. This wasn’t good.

  This was very, very bad.

  A chill crawled over Hayley’s skin as she watched Larissa, the girl who hated her just about as much as she did back, openly bawl upon her feet. What the hell happened? “If it’s,” Hayley’s mind raced to find an answer, “did you get your first, um…” Crap, what was that fancy word again? “Courses?”

  The crying stopped instantly, Larissa yanking herself away. Her hand began to paw at the mass of blood as if she was trying to hide it away. “No. I did not. I know what my courses are because I am not an imbecile.”

  Taking some offense because it was clearly meant, Hayley whipped her head around, “Fine, then what is it? Are you hurt? Did you cut something? Impale yourself?”

  Silent sobs racked up Larissa’s spine, the girl turning to face out to the stream. “I tried to clean up. To wash it all away. Make it go away. But it won’t stop. I asked, I begged but it wasn’t enough. It’s never enough to make it stop.” Her voice rose higher and higher, almost sounding like a little girl’s pleading for a lashing to cease.

  Hayley dropped to her haunches, a fear threading through her mind. Was Larissa beaten? Did that cause the blood? But by who? And why? She was perfect. She did everything asked of her no matter what.

  “I don’t want to…I don’t know what to do,” Larissa murmured, sounding like the fight was fully kicked out of her.

  Scrabbling over the grass, Hayley pooled water in her hands. “Here, this might help…” she tried when Larissa slapped it away.

  “Don’t touch me!” she screamed. “I hate you! I’ve always hated you!”

  Back at you. Hayley swept her hands down the front of her shirt to dry them off, prepared to get out of there and leave the batshit squire to her own devices.

  Larissa was rocking back and forth as if it was comforting. “You get everything. Every damn thing without having to earn it. A hero with her own battle mark before she’d even served for a year. I trained for this since I was six. Six! And what do I have?”

  You won the God damn tournament!

  “You
r knight is perfect!” Larissa shouted, causing Hayley to roll her eyes. This again. Shouldn’t they have moved past it by now? Gavin wasn’t exactly an angel, lentil night was excruciating in tiny tents. “Skilled. Loved. And he…” Larissa whimpered tighter to her knees, “he doesn’t touch you.”

  “What?” What did she mean by that? Gavin was often…well, not often, but he’d sometimes grip her shoulder or give her a pat on the head…

  Oh god.

  “I wanted it so bad! Six years old, my fingers would bleed from the grip.” She flexed her hands out under the moonlight as if blood was on them. “Morning, noon, night. Practice Larissa. Learn your skill. Be the best. I don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t want to…I can’t go back there!”

  No. He did not. He couldn’t. He was so nice, smiling all the time. Joking with the other squires. There weren’t devil horns hidden under his hair, no demons lurking in his eyes. He was perfect.

  He was a monster.

  Hayley skirted a hand over Larissa’s shoulders. For a moment she jerked away from the touch, hissing at the offer, but when Hayley didn’t shake her off or hurt her, Larissa gave in. “We should get off the ground,” Hayley whispered, her voice dead inside. What was she going to do? What could she do? This was so far beyond her.

  “Why?” Larissa glared at her.

  “Were you planning on sleeping out here?”

  “I…” She gulped. The only tent meant for her would also bed her knight. It was normal, squire and knight together. No one would bat an eye. No one would question it.

  “Just…get up,” Hayley said. Together, she helped Larissa to rise to unsteady legs. Her hand slipped off the girl’s shoulders, pooling to the side as she watched Larissa wobble on her feet. How long had she sat in the mud?

  “Follow me,” Hayley said. Despite her brain shouting at her that this was the dumbest idea imaginable, she led Larissa towards Gavin’s tent. Larissa didn’t ask where they were going, her head hung low as they walked the maze of tents. A few people embraced the night, shooting the breeze and rolling dice. Almost none cared about the two squires limping back to bed. Just a few drunkards on their way to a hangover come morning. Nothing to see.