Squire Derel

by Rachel Ford

She nodded. “Fair enough. All the same, I’m going to keep mine on.”

  I nodded, and added with a grin of my own, “Good plan, Derel.”

  An eyebrow crept up archly over her left eye, but she said only, “We’ll see, KP.”

  Phillip, meanwhile, plunked down on a barrel and swabbed sweat off his forehead. “Well, this should be good. But my money’s on the KP.”

  Derel snorted. “What money? You haven’t even hit your six month yet.”

  Six months is when the squires’ stipend kicked in – if trainees lasted that long. Aaronsen was a few months away yet, and he nodded. “True. Not all of us are born owning castles. Which is going to make watching the KP kick your ass that much sweeter.”

  “I’ve got a castle too,” I reminded him.

  “But only one. That doesn’t count.”

  He wasn’t wrong. In the shire, it might mean something, but to the rest of the North? I might as well be a pauper among princes. “I’m not sure if I should appreciate or resent that, Aaronsen.”

  “He’s just kissing ass. Poorly. Like how he fights. He’s hoping you’ll go easy on him, when it’s his turn in the ring.”

  “If you say so, Princess.”

  I laughed. These two were as brutal to each other off the field as on. “Alright, alright, less talking, more fighting.”

  Derel grinned. “Give the word, KP: I’m ready when you are.”

  “Kick her ass, KP.”

  That was easier said than done, though. Derel moved with the agility of a mountain cat and seemed to have the strength of a bear. She’d step aside before my swings would come close, and when she’d return them, I was glad I was fast in my own right. I wouldn’t have wanted to feel the weight of her strikes on my person, had I been too slow to block. As it was, the clang of metal on metal as our blades met reverberated through my bones, jarring me every time. I was panting before long.

  Getting old sucks.

  We went round a few times, her coming too close for comfort now and then, and then me.

  “Dammit, Derel,” Phillip whistled. “I guess you can hold your own.”

  Ana glanced between the boy and me. “Barely,” she demurred.

  “My ass.” Even in this martial dance, where neither of us was willing to commit until we’d seen more from the other, she was more than defending her position. So I decided to up the ante and see what she was really capable of. Before I wear myself out on the preliminaries. “Come on. Enough dancing. Give me a fight, Derel. Let me see what you’ve got.”

  A smirk lifted the corner of her lips, and her eyes twinkled at the challenge. Still, she managed a respectful, “You got it, ma’am.”

  I smiled to myself. I was learning about more than her fighting abilities today. I was learning something of what it took to raise my squire’s hackles, if only in sport. She did a good job of covering but didn’t like to be challenged. Not even by her KP. The hubris of youth. I remembered it well. Now, let’s see if she’s got the skill to back it up.

  She did, and she wasted no time in giving me a lesson in that, too.

  Her technique was good, her aim precise, and her drive unabating. She let into me with a ferocity that impressed, and I spent the first minute and a half playing defense, less of necessity than curiosity. I wanted to see how she fought, when she was really fighting.

  I’d seen her take on Aaronsen, but she’d been holding back when she fought the boy. She wasn’t holding back now.

  Still, as we went round, I thought that she was a bit more certain in her ability than was merited. Her attacks were good, but she didn’t always guard her retreat the way she should have.

  I bided my time, waiting for an opening. And then, it came. She swung, hard, and stepped aside, her sword arm trailing too low.

  I stepped in, intent on delivering a faux death blow to the torso. A moment too late, I caught the gleam in her eyes. It was a feint, and I’d been fool enough to fall for it.

  I pivoted back on my heel, ducking just in time to avoid the brunt of her hit. The blade glanced off my shoulder. Motherfucker. I’d taken hits from grown men twice her size that hurt less. I was almost seeing stars. Still, I kept my sword arm on task, bringing the blunted tip up and jabbing into her ribs.

  “Fuck,” she gasped as it hit.

  Staggering backwards, I managed, “You’re dead, Derel.” It would have been more impressive if I hadn’t collapsed on my ass a second later.

  Still, she was in too much pain to make hay about it. She collapsed too, repeating, “Fuck. Remind me not to try to pull one over on you, KP.”

  “You alright?”

  She shot me a sour look. “Of course. You?”

  I snorted. “Never better.”

  Phillip, meanwhile, was hooting with laughter. “That was awesome. Looks like you met your match, Derel. Good job, KP.”

  She flushed and scowled at him, and I snorted. “Right. If I can move my arm, that is.”

  Ana threw me a glance now, that was less adversarial than the one she’d turned his way. “Sorry, KP. Your arm okay?”

  I smiled. “I told you: it’s incentive.”

  She rubbed her lower ribs gingerly and shook her head. “I guess. Maybe a little too much incentive.”

  Groaning, I pushed to my feet, and extended her a hand – my right hand, leaving the left hanging limply. It was still in too much pain to move. “Come on. You take a breather. I’m going to go against Aaronsen.”

  “I don’t need a breather,” she protested, a flash of defiance crossing her features. She pushed to her feet, ignoring my hand. “I can go at this all day.”

  Something in me wanted to rise to the challenge in her tone, but I resisted. I was a KP, not a squire with something to prove. The fact that I had to remind myself of that was bad enough. “Well,” I said, mustering as much humility as I could, “I can’t. My shoulder needs a break before I cross blades with you again.”

  “Oh.” She blinked, seeming to hesitate in place. “You…you sure you’re okay, KP? I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You ask that question again, Squire, you’re going to be mucking the stables tonight. You understand?”

  Now, she grinned. “Yes ma’am.”

  “Good. Now get the hell off the field and let Aaronsen have a go.”

  “Copy that.”

  Chapter Fifteen – Derel

  We ate lunch, and I spent the rest of the afternoon having my ass handed to me by the KP. She was good, better even than Ilyen. Once or twice, I’d have sworn, she let me get hits in. But at the end of the day, she’d gotten twice the hits that I had, and three times as many kill shots.

  Phillip – poor Phil – hadn’t managed to get a single strike the first few rounds. Here again, I would have sworn, she let him get a point here and there.

  It was a little gratifying to see him so thoroughly destroyed, after his comments earlier. Still, as the day wore on, and I found myself in much the same boat, I forgave him.

  As for the KP…well, I never cared to lose. Still, she was so damned good that my pride didn’t sting quite as much as it might have otherwise. Yes, I was losing. But…well, of course I was losing. She was one of the best swordswomen I’d ever seen, and certainly the best I’d crossed blades with.

  She didn’t rub my nose in it, either. Which, if I was entirely honest with myself, helped. Still, by time the afternoon was drawing to a close, my ego was as battered and bruised as my body.

  “I’m starving,” Phillip was groaning. “You think dinner’s ready?”

  “Another half hour or so,” Lilia responded. “But we can head back, if you want.”

  I agreed almost as eagerly as he did. She smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that. I’m not sure I’d survive another half hour.”

  I snorted. “Me either, KP.”

  Phillip nodded. “I definitely wouldn’t.”

  “Wow. What a sorry bunch we are,” she laughed.

  I was about to make a reply when a shadow
crossed the courtyard. Cold fear darted up my back, and I found myself frozen in place, unable to move for half a second. I knew that shadow. I’d seen it before, not so very long ago.

  Phillip seemed to recognize it too, because he mutely turned horrorstruck eyes to the sky. The KP, of all of us, was the only one collected enough to find her voice. “Wyvern. Overhead, six o’clock. Stay behind me.” She’d drawn her blade – her real blade, the one forged of wyvern steel and imbued with magic. With her left hand, she unholstered her pistol, and passed it to me. I’d left my weapons at the keep. So had Phillip. “Take this.”

  I did, with hands that shook. Lilia seemed to notice my trembling, because she turned her blue eyes to me for half a second, and they were full of compassion. “We’ll be alright, Ana.”

  I swallowed and found my voice. “Yes ma’am.”

  We turned our focus now back to the dragon. It was circling high over the Callaghan estate, drifting over fields and forest and then back toward the castle in slow, easy circles.

  “We need to get back to the keep,” she decided in a minute. She put a hand on Phillip’s shoulder as we turned, and I saw for the first time that he’d gone very pale. A kind of grayish white pallor replaced the ruddiness of youth and the flush of exercise in his cheeks. He threw wide eyes at the KP, but she smiled calmly. “Come on.”

  We didn’t argue, and before long, a little breathless with running, we reached the keep. Now, she stopped to get a fix on the dragon. It was making its slow way toward the town, and toward Cragspoint.

  But more than the direction had changed. It was lower in the sky, and despite being further away, seemed larger for the change.

  “I need to follow it,” she said. “It looks like it’s heading to base. But wherever it’s going, I need to be there.”

  “KP, it’ll kill you,” Phillip protested.

  “No, it won’t. I’ll kill it, if I have to. But I won’t let it kill me.” She turned to me. “You two stay in the keep. It’s plated in wyvern steel. If he comes back this way –”

  “Wait,” I said. “I’m going with you.” Some part of me wanted to hide behind these stone and steel walls. I’d faced dragon fire before. I’d seen my KP killed by a dragon rider before. Some part of me turned to jelly at the prospect of living through that again – or, worse, dying amidst it.

  But I was a squire of the shire. I was a few months away from being a knight protector in my own right. If my KP was going into battle, I’d be damned if I wasn’t at her side.

  She glanced me over curiously. “Derel, you don’t have to. You should probably –”

  “I’m going,” I said doggedly.

  She nodded. “Alright.”

  “I’ll go too,” Phillip declared in a voice that trembled.

  “No. You stay, Phil.”

  “I should go. If Ana’s going –”

  “I need someone to protect the keep. To keep Claxton safe. If Ana and I are gone, who will do that?”

  “Oh.” He paused, then nodded. “You can count on me, KP.”

  “Good. Stay inside. Make sure Claxton and anyone else whose there stays inside until we get the clear.”

  “Copy that.”

  “Derel, with me.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  We headed for the stables, and this rather surprised me. “Wouldn’t a skimmer be faster?”

  “Yes. But a skimmer can’t cut cross country. I need to be able to follow this son-of-a-bitch wherever he goes.”

  I nodded, more reflexively than anything else. She was focused on the horses, and so wouldn’t have seen. We worked at a fever pitch, and the horses were tacked up in no time.

  Now, though, she paused. “Ana?”

  “Yes?”

  She was watching me with careful eyes. “Are you sure? There’s no shame in staying behind. Not after everything you’ve been through.”

  I felt my cheeks burn. So she’d seen my hesitation. “I’m all in, KP.”

  She didn’t seem swayed by my bravado. “Once we’re out there, I need to know I can count on you. That you won’t freeze up.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Alright. But I mean it. I don’t think any less of Phillip. I won’t of you either, if you stay behind.”

  “In for a penny, in for a pound, KP,” I told her, with the best affectation of a smile I could muster. The truth was, if I sat this out, I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to stop sitting it out. Every atom of my being screamed in protest at the idea of throwing myself headlong into that particular kind of horror and danger. My heart trembled at the prospect. Which meant it was exactly what I needed to do: I needed to get back out there and face it, for my own sake as much as anything else.

  She smiled, repeating, “Alright. Grab a rifle from the rack, then, Derel. And mount up.”

  I did, and in a moment we were underway. The wyvern was still visible, but nearer Cragspoint than it had been.

  We rode hard. I’d forgotten my exhaustion, or even the ache of my muscles. All I could think of was that dragon, that bringer of fire and death, here in the North. Was war really upon us, then? Would there be dragons in the cities before long?

  As we neared the base, Lilia pulled up her mount. “Ana, if this thing starts breathing fire, stay behind me. The wyvern magic will shield us both, if we’re close enough.”

  I nodded. “Copy that, KP.”

  We pressed on. The dragon was flying low – so low, its great, scaly stomach brushed the treetops as it passed, and the beat of its vast, dreadful wings bowed saplings and kicked up great clouds of dirt.

  As we neared, I saw a group of knight protectors had assembled in the green outside Cragspoint. The wyvern and its rider saw it too, because their path passed before these men and women, back and forth, lower and lower.

  At last, shortly before we reached the main group, it touched down. Callaghan pulled up beside the other knights, and I followed her. Our horses whinnied and flinched the entire time, and I stroked the neck of my Freya to comfort her.

  The dragon rider, meanwhile, dismounted. I think we all watched with bated breath. I know, for my own part, I did. I’d expected another round of fire and death, like the first wyvern I’d met. Not this.

  Not that I was entirely sure what this was. A man in the trappings of a knight stepped onto the field, removing his helmet and striding toward us. A sword hung at his side, and a pistol on the other. But he made no move to draw either.

  Instead, he just walked toward us: one man, facing a row of knight protectors. What in the hell?

  Callaghan, now, dismounted too. I followed, wondering again, What in the hell? She moved toward this strange knight with the same deliberate slowness, with the same easy confidence. I tried to match it, though I felt a bit like a rabbit walking in the shadow of a lioness.

  But she was my KP. And where she went, I’d follow.

  We stopped a few yards from each other. The southerner glanced us up and down in a dismissive fashion, and Callaghan raised an eyebrow in turn, as if she was not particularly impressed with what she saw either.

  I was not quite up for the psychological sparring. The stranger was impressive in his own right – tall and muscular, with broad shoulders and a litheness that promised a formidable fight, if it came to that. But it was the dragon that occupied my attention.

  I remembered the beast I’d killed well. He visited me in my nightmares often enough. This one seemed larger and, if it was possible, more terrible. He stood taller. Or am I imagining that? The reds of his scales reflected crimson in the afternoon sunlight. Like blood. And his teeth and fangs? Good gods. If ever a more hideous beast had roamed the earth, I had no knowledge of it.

  Callaghan spoke first, crossing her arms as she did so. “You need directions, Stranger? You seem to have gotten yourself a little turned around. This is the North. By treaty, dragon riders from the South aren’t permitted here.”

  He looked her up and down a second time, no less dismissively. “Who are you? You speak
for the knights of this place?”

  “I’m the Knight of the Shire. My name is Callaghan. And I protect these lands.”

  He snorted. “Then it’s you I’ve come to see. For it’s you who must have murdered my scout.”

  Chapter Sixteen – Derel

  “Your scout?”

  “Don’t play the fool, Knight of the Shire. We found the wyvern corpse, by No Man’s Land. Shot down. Where’s my kaladorn? Did you murder him as well?”

  “Your kaladorn? Who are you?”

  He drew up tall. “I’m SKP Valarian, of His Majesty’s Wyvern Riders.”

  SKP was verbal shorthand for Senior Knight Protector, one of the most elite military designations – usually, the commander of a military installment or units. It was his man, then, that had murdered Ilyen, and almost murdered Phillip and me.

  “Well, Valarian,” Callaghan said, “your kaladorn murdered one of our KP’s, and nearly murdered two squires.”

  He scoffed. “Preposterous. Despicable lies. Trajan had made that border sweep hundreds of times. He’d never fire on our allies. Not unless he was fired on first.”

  It took me half a second to comprehend what was being implied, and when I did, I felt my blood boil. To suggest that we and Ilyen, who had been taking down our camp, oblivious to the murderer above us, had picked that fight? I forgot all my earlier observations about what a challenge this southern knight would present. My mind was filled instead with visions of crossing blades with the lying son-of-a-bitch and making him eat his words.

  Callaghan, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow. “I don’t lie, Southerner.”

  He cocked his head to the side and seemed about two breaths away from challenging her on the point. His hand hovered above the hilt of his sword. Lilia was relaxed, but her hand had drifted during this exchange toward her own blade.

  It was now that another voice interjected: Ki Alduran’s. “Sir Knight, you say you’re here because your kaladorn fell. But this was weeks ago. Why take so long to claim responsibility for the attack on our people?”

  “I claim nothing of the kind,” Valarian shot back. “I am here only now because it has taken us so long to discover the whereabouts of our murdered compatriot.”