"Of course, my dear Jess," her familiar soothed, butting his head against Jess's chest and purring. "No one save the angels above knows the sagas of the empresses I have served and guided throughout the ages as well as I. But no matter if one experiences the life of utter privilege and power embraced by rulers, or the humble pride and satisfaction felt by a master chef fully versed in her craft, what matters are two things. One, being aware of the tides of change when they lap upon your shore, and two, always feeding your kitty. If anything, the second of those two rules is the most important, since your beloved familiar can always take care of the first issue himself.”
This made Jess smile and she had kissed her dear familiar's head, scratching his favorite spots. "I love you, Twilight," she said softly. "And save for the occasional rotten merchant that had to be put in his place, I also thought we were safe from the squabbles of Court, Father loyal to the king and with no interest in anything save maintaining his barony and his people, large as his barony is. But it does seem like the powers that be have turned their gazes in our direction, whether we would will it or no."
Twilight sighed, waving his tail reflectively, gazing out the foliage-lined windows, beholding the brilliant silver moon in the cloudless sky above. "This is indeed the case, my Jess. And since this turn of the wheel has found you once again in spheres of politics and power, it behooves me to investigate those old halls once more. To ferret out their secrets, determine opportunity and threat, and with such knowledge we will reconvene and determine our best path forward."
Jess nodded thoughtfully. "I think I understand, Twilight. You said Hound. Do you mean, Malek? Can he help us? He does take a lot more interest in the goings on of Court than do I."
Twilight's grin was one Jess was long familiar with. "He has, in a sense, been indulging himself this time around. But it must be a choice, as always, and he does tend to make the correct ones, more often than not. Especially when the horn of battle does blow its clarion call above the field of war, and our enemies finally unveiled."
Jess chuckled at that. "I sometimes feel like you are saying far more beneath your words than it would appear on the surface."
This inspired an approving lick on the cheek. "That is because you are far brighter than most people realize, despite your direct approach to things, and distaste for subtlety and intrigue. Worry not, my mistress. I have this covered. And Malek is busy doing other things. I have no doubt that he will come when he is needed, as he always has before."
Jess nodded. She recalled very little of her last voyage into the eldritch lands of Shadow. save that it had been a dark, twisted dream of sorts with a great brooding tower holding a wretched pustule of darkest evil. She vaguely recalled striding resolutely toward it, gazing upon its narrow windows flickering with hideous light, her own heart firm with steely resolve, Malek faithfully by her side.
According to the bards' accounts, Jess had somehow pulled him directly into that place of darkest Shadow, from his sleeping quarters at the college no less, the sheer impossibility of it not having bothered either of them in the least at the time, immersed as they both were in the realm of dreams.
"That's my shieldbrother. He has his quirks, but when the clarion horns of battle blow and our ordered lives become a melee of madness, there is no one else I'd rather have at my side."
"And that is the way it has always been," Twilight said. "Still, he's far more interested in boys than politics at present, so I shall conduct this little investigation solo. Besides, being invisible to the eyes of most mortals does have its advantages."
He had then caught her sleepy eyes with his own brilliant sapphire ones. "Go back to sleep, Jess. You have an exciting day ahead tomorrow. A fellow Delver at last to spar with, and who knows where that will lead, this time around. Just please try not to kill anyone unless absolutely necessary while I’m away. All right, my dear Jess?”
Jess, nodding, had given her familiar a final sleepy petting before drifting off to sleep once more, and here she was, just a handful of hours later, practice blade in hand, wearing her bright mithril armaments straight out of the storybooks, about to face what could well be her toughest opponent.
A man whose knowing grin still sent shivers down her spine, falchion held in a high hanging guard similar to how she would hold a saber, blade pointing downward toward her chest, hilt held just above and to the right of his own helmet, left arm held low and forward almost as if it were a shield, wearing as he was a unique arming gauntlet with a reinforced guard that went right up to his elbow, and a spur jutting several inches beyond.
Jess couldn't help grinning in fierce anticipation. It would be an exhilarating fight. Of that, she had no doubt.
4
“Are the combatants ready?” Her father called, his tone that of an armsmaster assuring that all was in order. As one Jess and Morlekai nodded. “Very well then, you know the rules. Should either of you call it, or should I blow my whistle, you are both to cease your struggles immediately and move to opposite sides of the circle. Agreed?” Again, both dipped their heads, and with a slight nod of approval, her father blew his whistle, and as quick as that, the battle was on.
For all that her heart hammered with exhilaration, Jess resolved to spar carefully with her even now rapidly approaching foe. She did not know how strong he truly was yet, for all that their brief encounter in the greenhouse had given her some sense of his potency. Still, she knew all too well how powerful her own blows were, and resolved to be careful.
Yet almost before she knew it, her opponent had closed, wasting no time in testing her defenses, whipping his blunted falchion in tight snapping arcs, easy to parry but conveying a force and power behind the blows that she could feel ring through her blade down to the hilt. He was apparently seeking to disrupt her line of attack, even as he sought to close.
Deftly, Jess stepped and slid away, blade in Ochs, even as she timed a double Zwerchhau strike, her blade snapping in tight horizontal arcs toward left and right temple, even as she slid away from his own line of attack, his falchion hopelessly out of line to parry the second blow. And with a sudden wrench, Jess found herself pulled off balance, yanked with a force completely unexpected. Her opponent’s gauntlet had snapped around her blade with a speed she had only seen mirrored in herself at her prime, his entire body torquing around as he pulled her blade past his hip, yanking her sword arm out to full extension, with his own blisteringly fast falchion now clasped in Jess’s frantically grasping mithril gauntlet even as the point hammered into her. Morlekai instantly let go of her blade, Jess suddenly off balance for the first time she could remember even as her opponent's mailed fist hammered forward, his entire frame pivoting around with explosive power to land what would have been a terrible blow to her head, had he not stopped his strike but a hairsbreadth from her helmeted skull, even as a fiercely humiliated Jess leaped away and struggled to regain her balance and composure.
Her father’s whistle was blowing madly. Neither Morlekai nor Jess moved from their positions despite it, though both had paused.
“I came here to spar with an equal, not be condescended to by a Spring whelp who cannot even show me the respect of fighting full out!” Morlekai’s words were harsh, caustic, and Jess could feel her face flushing with hot embarrassment. “Don’t curb your blows with me, Del Jessica, or you just might find yourself disarmed entirely, with my fist slamming into your mouth, you who did not even think to shut your visor before engaging.”
Humiliated, Jess didn't trust herself to speak, merely giving one curt nod before slamming shut and securing her mithril visor and walking back to her end of the circle, even as Morlekai did the same, both completely ignoring the questioning looks of her father and brother. She had made that same mistake once with Mord de Plaga some four years ago, only he hadn't deigned to pull his blow, happily forcing open her unsecured visor and pounding freely into her vulnerable flesh with his armored fist. And here she was, facing perhaps the most deadly being she had ever encou
ntered upon the face of Dawn, and her visor had been completely open. It didn't matter that open-faced helms or barbutes for heavy infantry and cavalry were the norm, and that save for knights or Squires of War, few bothered with visors, fragile and expensive to make as they were, and unless crafted by the best of smiths, likely to shatter as not. What mattered was that her mithril helm had a visor, and she had failed to make use of it. Flushed with momentary shame, she resolved never to repeat that error, and was ready to cross blades with her enemy once more.
At least she now knew just how fast and powerful Morlekai was, she thought ruefully, shaking still from the momentary embarrassment at having been so easily and quickly bested. His strength and speed were apparently a mirror of her own, and he was no doubt a veteran of many more trips into the mad realms of Shadow than was she. He knew how to use his arming gauntlet and falchion to deadly effect as well. The gauntlet he wore extended down to his elbow, fitted and grooved for guiding blades away or snapping them up in his armored fist, even as he effortlessly forced his opponent’s weapons out of alignment and charged under their guard, no doubt butchering them with effortless efficiency when fighting in earnest.
Jess spent some moments studying his stance and posture, her father's lecture about obeying his commands going completely unheard. When her father at last blew the whistle once more, she had already centered herself, focusing upon her opponent with the intensity of a razor's edge. She felt both utterly and acutely aware of Morlekai's every shift in balance and posture, sensing as well the terrible coiled power simmering just beneath the surface. Every drop of sweat, every inhalation of her opponent she could sense, feel, even taste, she fancied. When next Morlekai launched his attack, she knew she would be ready for him.
As she began to feel battlefrenzy start to take hold, she was struck with the odd sense that time was somehow dilating, everyone else moving slightly slower than they otherwise should. And the moment her father blew his whistle, Jess and Morlekai both hurtling themselves towards each other at blistering speed, she saw to her terror and delight that Morlekai was also moving faster. They alone did not seem to be slowed down as they closed, and steel flashed once more.
It was a cautious exchange, Morlekai seeking to snap grab her blade with his arming gauntlet even as his falchion sought to taunt her, knock her blade out of line, and if the opportunity presented itself, if Jess lost focus for even an instant, he would no doubt slam forward, blocking her sword with his hanging parry, snapping her blade up high even as his falchion would lash out with a terribly fierce lunge that would no doubt serve to disembowel any man less well armored or skilled than she.
All this Jess could read with his every movement. She no longer pulled her blows, showing him the full force of her own strength, knowing this was one foe she need forgo none of her prowess in facing. She would need all her skill just to avoid the humiliation of a quick defeat. For even as her blade lashed out, snapping aside his own, darting forward as opportunity presented itself, she was cautious, desiring not to be yanked inward into another trap.
Jess soon found herself steadily retreating as they circled around the training yard, something she could tell was beginning to irritate Morlekai. Eyes blazing, lips pressed into a tight frown, Morlekai was treating her every bit as seriously as she could want. Nonetheless, decisive victory was what he strove for. She could read that in his every movement as well. And when his strides were perhaps a bit too confident, overenthusiastic falchion and gauntlet just the slightest shift off from center, Jess lashed out, having waited for that very moment.
Like a streak of lightning, she unleashed her pristinely executed lunge, her body snapping forward with the grace of a master as her blunted steel blade slammed with shocking force into his left shin, catching her opponent completely off guard.
Morlekai had faced her with his arming gauntlet leading. It was an excellent tool for parrying blows at waist or head height, with the added advantage of easily being able to snap grab and entrap her weapon, as Jess had learned to her humbling dismay during their first bout. His lower leg, however, was harder to protect, particularly when he led with the gauntlet, and thus was a weakness Jess had chosen to exploit.
He had done all he could to counter, but his weight had been entirely on his front foot even as he strode forward, his specialized gauntlet unable to counter her longsword, his own falchion spinning forward to knock aside her blade just a moment too late. She could feel her strong steel blade bend with the force of her strike, having hit perfectly.
Even as the blow sent a shock of pain and discord through Morlekai, Jess changed her line of attack, pivoting forward and to her right even as her blade snapped up and over, spinning forward in a fierce Zornhau strike, the full force of her blade arcing down in a diagonal blow at Morlekai’s left temple. Momentarily stunned and off balance, Morlekai was only able to raise his arming gauntlet sufficient to dampen but not mitigate the full force of her blow, and all could hear the tremendous crack of steel against helmet even as Jess spun away, her father’s whistle screeching sharply across the field.
The ring of her perfectly timed strike echoed across the field long after the blow had been dealt, or so it seemed to Jess. She looked down at the carefully constructed practice blade in her hands to find that it had been warped out of true by the force of her blow. Not an easy feat by any means, she thought. Blunted or no, it was a stiffer steel training blade than many, heavier as well, specifically made for training in full armor. The Stechen thrust she had delivered would have torn right through even a mailed opponent who was not a Delver of their caliber, were she wielding a true fighting blade, to say nothing of her hideously sharp mithril longsword, and her Zornhau strike could well have snapped someone’s neck with the force of the blow, training blade or no, so great was the power behind her strike.
It was yet another disturbing reminder of her own unnatural strength, and the look exchanged between her father and brother, weighed with words unspoken, made it quite clear that the shear deadly force of her blows had not been lost on them.
Yet Morlekai seemed all but unaffected. Limping only slightly, he gave a bemused shake of his head, chuckling to himself even as he removed his helmet. "It appears that it was I who underestimated you during our last bout, my dear Jess. Excellent work, taking advantage of my overconfidence, carelessness, and the weakness inherent in my style." He grimaced at his own limp, nodding his head in approval. "Were I not wearing leathers covered in the scales of beasts of darkest Nightmare, did I not possess the vitality of one who has plumbed the essence of darkest Shadow, reveled in living nightmare, my skull and leg would both be shattered fragments of bone." He laughed then. "Well done, Del Jessica de Calenbry. Well done indeed."
“Del Morlekai. I must insist on a healer being brought in before we continue. And a break first, with refreshments and a time for reflection as well.” Though polite, the baron’s words were firm, wanting neither to risk a representative of the Guild taking grave injury while visiting them, nor risk hot anger resulting in vicious reprisal during what was, after all, a friendly sparring match, or so Jess assumed.
Morlekai for his part, gave a polite nod. "If you wish a healer to confirm what I already know, a contusion to my ankle and a welt to my left temple, by all means. I, for one, would not mind refreshments and another glass of your most excellent apple brandy. Lighter than the red our Guild normally stocks from your distillery. You are using Calenbry Golds with this batch, I presume?"
The baron nodded his approval, enjoying a light conversation regarding the nuances of brandy manufacture with the surprisingly knowledgeable Morlekai as they all proceeded back to the grandly blooming manor. Jess couldn't resist plucking an inviting Calenbry Red from one of the branches by the entrance. She paused only long enough to stroke the fruit laden branch, for just a moment missing being one with that wondrous conjoined grove of trees her home had become, before heading inside to chambers that were by and large pretty much as they had always been, sa
ve for the occasional root snaking across the floor panels.
5
Within moments of taking his ease, Morlekai was tended to by the gentle ministrations of the house healer who, as often as not, would be found making rounds to treat the sick in nearby communities at no expense to them, though always at the call of the baron, and specifically asked to attend to their household on this day of the anticipated sparring match.
Even though she would have to don proper attire once more, Jess found herself in surprisingly good spirits as she changed out of her training gear, scrubbing down in the heated waters of the wash bucket before drying off and putting on the most comfortable dress she could find. She gazed fondly at her happily rustling oak bed, mattress of thick living leaves and vines surprisingly comfortable for her and Twilight to sleep on. Frankly, she was surprised that her family had forborne to comment more on the very… vital nature of their manor at present.
Jess shrugged to herself. Hopefully, it just meant they liked the manor's new look, fresh fruit outside their windows, and storerooms full of nuts. Because she, for one, had no intention of trying to change it back. Their house was truly alive, after all. Entwined oak, apple, peach and birch, chestnut and maple, pear and walnut, all thriving in perfect harmony. And very protective of her family, she reflected, gently stroking the contented wooden planks under her silken slippers, resonating as they did with an all's well with the world, sort of feeling. One just had to watch one's step, making sure not to trip over the occasional root here and there.
A highly contented Jess made her way to the family parlor, humming to herself as she sometimes did when feeling particularly satisfied with the world. There was the exhilaration of finding a new sparring partner she did not have to hold anything back from; the return, at least on an as needed training basis, of her armaments in all their mithril glory, even the apparent acceptance and love of her family, no longer treating her like some poor half mad beast. All worked as a gentle balm, soothing away all the disappointment and self-doubt that had plagued her since the fateful night of the fete. And did she smell fresh crepes? She nodded to herself in satisfaction, certain that she did. Along with rashers of fried bacon, sausage links, and other tasty delights teasing her senses with their tantalizing aroma. All this served to quicken her pace, and within moments she was before her family, all sitting down and nibbling most contentedly at a delicious noon repast, her father nodding at her approvingly, gesturing to her chair, which happened to be directly across from their guest.
Faerie's Champion Page 5