Paladin's Oath

by M. H. Johnson

  “Onnika. Thank you. It's just, thank you.” She kissed Onnika in turn, gently stroking her hair, holding her close.

  Onnika sighed. “You're not the only girl who tried to lose herself in passion to soothe the ache in her heart, for all that my past is so much more innocent than yours, only to find that even as your reputation gains you the admiration of various boys and girls, it's never the right sort of admirer. Just cads and lasses desiring a single night's fling. None who want to spend the years by your side, sharing kisses and memories, planting roses together, starting a family together.”

  Onnika gave a rueful laugh. “By the time I had gained an understanding of what I really yearned for, I already had a reputation. One I would do over, if I could. But such is life, my Jess. We embrace the bitter and the sweet together, and if the one we desire turns their noses at us, well to hell with them, I say. It's their loss."

  Jess smiled and nodded, giving Onnika's hand a tender squeeze.

  “Besides, now I have you.”

  Jess blushed fiercely at that, but when Onnika's eyes gazed searchingly into her own, Jess smiled and nodded, kissing her lover softly. “Neither of us have had an easy time of it. I'm glad we've found each other.”

  Onnika's smile lit up the room. “It means the world to hear you say that, Jess. You really are an amazing girl. And to think I've only known you for a single night!” She sighed, before wrinkling her nose. “If we are to have any hope of convincing our mothers to allow us to visit each other regularly, we had best make at least a show of decorum. And come to think of it, you do smell a bit like apple brandy, even now.” She pouted gently even as she wrapped Jess's arms about her snugly. “I do hope your feelings for me are genuine, and not just the result of friendly libations!”

  “Oh I assure you, dearest Onnika, headache upon the morrow or no, this memory will stay, fierce and sweet, my aching skull a price well paid.” Jess winked. “We Delvers are pretty tough. I only feel bleary until I splash water on my face, and then it's off to my training room.”

  Onnika gazed at Jess in wonder. “That’s right! You’re an adventurer, as well as a Squire. My lover has talent!”

  “You already saw that,” Jess teased, to Onnika’s throaty laughter. “But please, keep that bit about my being a Squire between you and me, will you? Even saying that much was more than I should.”

  Onnika nodded even as Jess gave her sweet young lover a gentle kiss on the cheek as they walked back toward the door, hand in hand. "Do you really want to see me again?" Jess winced, almost ashamed to hear such vulnerable words slip from her lips.

  Onnika smiled. “I do, Jess. I hope, maybe, we can have something more than a single night together. I’d like for us to call on each other regularly! I think these discussions on the best way to get our roses to blossom is very good for us, don’t you?”

  Jess chuckled at Onnika's wicked grin, kissing her softly yet again. "But seriously, Jess. I think I like you. A lot. Even if all we do is talk about flowers, our mothers serving as chaperones, that's enough. I would dearly love to have your company, Jess, whatever else the fates allow us.”

  Jess smiled and nodded even as she placed her hand on the door. “I would like that too, Onnika. Very much.” She suddenly froze, her eyes going wide.

  “What’s wrong?” Onnika’s voice was suddenly alarmed as Jess’s expression instantly transformed from infatuated young lover to cold grim warrior girding for battle.

  “Crap,” Jess said. “Is there another way out of here?”

  Onnika’s expression suddenly paled. “No, Jess. What’s wrong?”

  Jess sighed. “Our sisters are waiting outside the door.”

  Onnika gazed at Jess, puzzled. “How can you tell?”

  “The door told me.”

  Onnika blinked. “I do hear you are gifted with wood.” Her expression turned grim as she took in the meaning of Jess’s words. “Damn. Okay, okay. We were planting, and you were teaching me about herbal lore. We got into a discussion involving various herbs which is why we smell like we just stepped out of the herb garden. Which, in a sense, we are doing.” She looked up at Jess, grinning weakly. “Do you think they’ll buy it?”

  Jess smirked. “I doubt it, Onnika. But I certainly don’t have any better ideas, save breaking through the window and jumping down first, then catching you, and I can tell by your expression that really isn’t your cup of tea. So let's give your idea a try! Maybe my sister is more gullible than I thought, but I seriously doubt it.”

  Onnika gave a shaky grin. “Here goes nothing.” She tried to open the door. Tugged it firmly. It wouldn’t budge. Onnika looked up at Jess in growing alarm. “Oh goodness, Jess! We really are in trouble. The door is stuck!”

  “Sorry,” Jess mumbled, gently touching the door. It popped open to reveal the stoney-faced countenances of Karine and Appolonia. Neither looked very happy.

  "Hi, Karine!" Onnika grinned brightly. "I didn't expect to see you here. Jess and I were just discussing herbal lore. And experimenting with cuttings. Amazing how time flies!" She forced a tittering laugh. "Now, if you'll excuse me, dear sis, Jess and I must really be off to the baths."

  Karine just stared at Onnika, clinically noting the deep crimson flush coming over her sister.

  "What?" Onnika cried. "It's not my fault! She's just too cute!"

  “You can’t fold that quickly!” Jess whispered urgently. “This is just the first round. Your sister’s still in the staring stage. You have to hold out until she hits you with the unshakable logic stage of the fight!”

  For some reason, Jess's words made Onnika blush even brighter, and Karine finally favored Jess with a bemused glance. "You do know your sister and I can totally hear what you're saying, right?"

  Jess shrugged. “I’m coaching her. It’s not being said in the context of our actual verbal sparring match, so it doesn’t count.”

  Karine’s gaze turned incredulous and she glanced over at Appolonia. “Seriously?”

  Appolonia sighed and shrugged. “That’s Jess. She lives by her own rules.”

  Karine just shook her head. "Thank you for the lovely flowers, Jess. We will see you all in the morning, I'm sure. Onnika? To the bathes. Come. Mother is not happy with you at all, by the way.”

  “But Karine…”

  “Now!” Her voice turned sharp, and she all but dragged Onnika down the corridor.

  Jess sighed, gazing forlornly at her sweet young rose pleading with her sister before the pair turned a corner, their voices soon fading away.

  Appolonia wrinkled her nose. “Seriously, Jess? That’s the best story you could come up with?”

  Jess grinned sheepishly. “I was distracted.”

  "I can tell." Apple shook her head with bemusement. "Come on, let me show you our quarters." Her gaze turned reproving then. "By Justice, I can't believe you, Jess! I get grounded for one little kiss, you and Geoffrey are all holier than thou, older siblings know best, and here you are, seducing the birthday girl!"

  “That’s not fair. She seduced me!” Jess cried, then blushed. “Ooh. That was good, Apple.”

  Her sister smirked. “You totally smell like sex, you know.

  Jess lifted her brow. “And how do you know what sex smells like?”

  Apple began to resemble her namesake, blushing brightly. “Shut up! You’re the one in trouble here, not me!”

  Jess grinned, even as she braced herself for the battle to come.

  4

  “Okay, we’re here,” Apple declared after they had walked down a far corridor and stood before the ornate door to what Jess assumed was their corner suit. Apple knocked on the door. “Mother? It's me. I found Jess.”

  With that the door was smoothly opened by one of their house guards, dressed elegantly in a the Calenbry house uniform, side-sword and parrying dagger in fine leather sheaths. Jess smiled and nodded to herself, happy to see she wasn't the only one wearing armor with her clothing, though admittedly, their armsmen weren't trying to hide full mail ha
uberks under a tightly fitting school tunic, the soldier's mail being a discrete layer of rings sewn within the lining of his woolen house jacket. A decent defense that blended in perfectly as a nonthreatening uniform, though nowhere near the protection of Jess's mithril mail. Nonetheless, it would be a lifesaver in warding the glancing blows that most melees were comprised of before a telling blow was finally landed. His self-sword made sense with his armaments, appearing more stylish than threatening, as had been Agda's desire when her husband had insisted upon at least a quartet of men coming with her, even to a birthday gala.

  Jess grinned and nodded in acknowledgment of the man, having seen him spar with their family armsmaster, and knowing he was more than competent. “Johnathan, is it? Glad to have you with us.”

  The soldier bowed his head. “Thank you, Lady Jessica,” he said formally. “The baroness awaits you in your suite.”

  Jess nodded again at Johnathan and the other armsmen ostensibly resting in the outer bedroom that served as the guards' quarters, to be expected of any suite holding guests of rank. Of considerable size, though appearing cramped with four beds, it nonetheless looked comfortable and well cared for. A pair of guards were presently playing a quiet hand of cards at the center table. An activity that, Jess's mother being a card player herself, did not begrudge them when they were not on active duty.

  “Where’s the fourth?” Jess queried, and Johnathan smiled.

  “It is good of you to ask, Lady Jess. Fear not, he is checking on our mounts and the servants who accompanied us, as well as assuring that the house staff knows what to prepare for my ladies’ breakfast.

  Jess nodded approvingly. "Keep to a light sleep, men. You may have heard rumors of wild animals making off with several of the house servants. I hope it's no worse than that, but I have a feeling we should keep alert while we are here. Let's make sure our own do not join those that have been lost to this estate."

  Johnathan nodded sympathetically. “You may rest assured we will keep you all safe, Lady Jess.”

  Jess grinned. “It is not me I’m worried about. Did you see my duel? I totally trounced rat face!”

  “Enough bragging, Jess. Everyone knows about your fight. Stop delaying the inevitable and come on,” Apple said curtly, dragging her sister to the inner door.

  "I don't want to deal with Mother right now!" Jess pouted. "She's going to give me the evil eye and make me feel guilty. Can't we just skip that part of things?"

  "Oh, you mean like how Mother made me feel when I got my scolding? I recall all too well how smug you and Geoffrey looked when Mother had words for me. I faced it, and now it's your turn. Surely you're not going to tell me you're more cowardly than I?"

  Jess huffed. “Fine.” She strode forward and opened the door wide.

  “Jessica de Calenbry, get in here right this instant!” Her mother’s voice cracked like a whip.

  Jess turned her shaken face toward her sister. “That was sneaky.”

  Apple smirked. “Sometimes it’s just too easy.”

  “Change your clothes and wash your face, Jessica! Frankly, I don’t want to smell you.”

  Jess had nodded sheepishly and complied, slipping to the room her mother imperiously pointed at, finding her things laid out, including a freshly poured basin of rosewater. Flushing with embarrassment that she had not felt at all in the greenhouse, Jess spent some time freshening herself and changing into a clean nightgown though, as always, she donned her mithril shirt just over her cotton shift. Nothing would change that. Not even the wrath of her mother.

  Sheepishly, she slinked back out to the main room, her mother facing her, arms crossed. Her sister, at least, had the grace to slip into her own designated room, though was no doubt smirking just on the inside of her door.

  "Jessica de Calenbry! What, by Justice, has gotten into you? First, your absolute refusal to wear a single one of the beautiful gowns our seamstress made for you. Against my better judgment I allowed you your eccentricities, and even consented to the donning of your school uniform. And what a disaster that turned out to be! You couldn't even be obliged to trust to the competency of our own men just this once, and forbear your mail shirt! By the gods, Jess, are you wearing that thing even now? Unbelievable!"

  Her mother’s gaze cut into Jess’s own and she felt herself flushing.

  “And what do I get for indulging you so? Grace and gentle temperament in return? Hardly so! You manage to offend the lords' sensibilities sufficient that they think you a common servant! You, a daughter of the baron himself! The insult that puts upon our name. Next thing I know, you're off trouncing to some duel!”

  Her mother gave a bitter shake of her head. “What is wrong with you, Jessica, that I cannot leave you alone, at a dinner party of all things, for a mere ten minutes without you offending some lordling sufficient that he wants to kill you? Marvelous fight, by the way. You managed to humiliate him in front of all the guests, and shatter the poor fool's arm.”

  On this alone, Jess felt the fire in her gut and met her mother’s gaze levelly. “He called me a pox laden whore, Mother. I will not let such an insult go unavenged.”

  Her mother glared before taking a deep, steadying breath. “Granted. I will give you that one point, which is why I’m not having your father take your blade away and ground you at a finishing school, where you can finally learn some civility and manners! No apple brandy to be found there, I assure you. I would make it a point that well water alone would be your drink of choice, and that the whole bloody school knew why! Perhaps a little bit of humility would temper that intolerable 'adventurer's arrogance' of yours, so prevalent in commoners risen so suddenly above their crass beginnings, but absolutely untenable in the daughter of a named lord!”

  Jess stumbled back and gasped, eyes widening in horror at the enormity of her mother’s threat.

  “Yes, Jess! By the gods! I said it! Your worst fear! Do you have any idea how badly you embarrassed me? Your sister? The family name tonight? Flouncing about like a man, picking fights with lesser lords, letting yourself be near seduced by the first young rake to sally jests with you, and as drunk on brandy as any common doxy! Thank goodness your sister had the common sense to intervene. And then, and then of all things, seducing the birthday girl!”

  Her mother began breathing so fast Jess suddenly feared for her well-being and started to raise one concerned arm. Her mother slapped it away. “Don’t touch me, Jess! I am so angry with you I don't have the words! Go to bed this very instant!”

  Crumpling in on herself, Jess retreated to her bed. Her head resting on the soft, down-filled pillow, she tried to blink away the hot prickly tears welling up. Her mother's look of hurt outrage and angry words echoed through her still. Tainting her memories of the evening, the visceral thrill of the duel, the warm camaraderie of the lords laughing and discussing swordplay with her as if she were one of them herself, the intense delight of gazing into Onnika's beautiful eyes, shivering at the sensual thrill of her cries of ecstasy as she clamped her thighs tightly against Jess's teasing fingertips. All those sweet memories suddenly soured by her mother's fierce disapproval.

  It was painfully obvious to Jess that she could never be what her mother wanted her to be. She could never be a simpering flower hanging onto every word of her ‘betters.’ She hated even the thought of having to preen and hope to be chosen by some arrogant self-important lord or another who would ‘forgive’ her scars, her flaws, her strength and fierce temperament. As if she were some hopelessly damaged broodmare who must apologize for the very strengths that made her a potent warrior and a valued ally to the Squires at Highrock who understood her best; boys and girls who had risked their lives, fighting by her side.

  She hated feeling miserable, lonely, and ashamed. She hated the fact that in her heart of hearts, she knew that no man would truly want her for herself. Some might admire her as a warrior and adore her for that, perhaps, but her mother would take even that away, so she would be forced to primp and preen and hope that
some man would consent to her as some third place pick.

  She would die before she let herself be cast away that cheaply, Jess promised herself through her tears.

  Lord Nicolaus had been an ass, Onnika had loved her gift of beautiful flowers and herbs, and had let her know just how much she admired Jess just as she was. A sweet gift indeed they had shared, and Jess would not regret it, no matter how much her mother or Onnika’s mother disapproved. This Jess promised herself even as she rubbed her cheeks, took a deep breath, comfortingly touched the sword by her side, and allowed herself to drift into sleep.

  5

  Her sleep was heavy, full of twisting nightmares and strange dreams. She saw vivid flashes of herself running in a vast maze, her shieldbrother Malek by her side, who was somehow also a massive beast covered in blood red sigils at the same time, which made no sense at all, but then dreams rarely did. Time and space stretched strangely, and over countless hours that passed in mere seconds she found herself in a fierce battle with undead revenants gazing at her with hate-filled eyes filmed over with death, battling them fiercely, madly, her blood covered sword bursting through their shirts of mail, searing their necrotic flesh.

  Screams. Madness. Terrible laughter as an entire town was torn apart, buildings wrenched free of Dawn's grip to go tumbling off into the blood red skies of some hideous hell, flashing lightning revealing massive fortresses of tortured stone and blinking eyes glaring down at the dying land. And the hideous laughter echoing oddly through the hills, chilling her to the quick in her tortured sleep, was her own.

  Jess shut her eyes tight, even in her sleep, preparing to scream away the terrors pounding through her, as they did almost every night, knowing that soon would come the most hideous dream of all. Soon she would waken to a dream within the dream, in her quarters back at Highrock once more, her eyes locking upon her mother's mirror, and she would watch the mirror buckle and crack, inky blackness filling the once reflective surface. Then fiery eyes would blink open in the liquid shadow as an awful face swirled into being. The hideous countenance would spend countless moments staring hungrily at a paralyzed and helpless Jess, before whispering ghastly secrets that would cause her to shriek and awaken at last, her heart racing, without a single memory of the dreams that had terrified her so. Only now, in the midst of sleep, did Jess recall the horror of what she would face once more.