Paladin's Oath

by M. H. Johnson

  Despite her knowing better, certain troubling thoughts begged to be considered. It was silly, she cajoled herself. Everyone who had come to the party was a known lord. No guardsmen were permitted without specific exception from Father for one or two paranoid guests, and they to be wearing no more than side swords and bucklers at that. Their family had several dozen highly trained professional soldiers on hand. All well armed and armored. The thought of someone attempting something here, and now, was ridiculous. But still, she couldn't stop ruminating over the darkest of possibilities.

  “What if a walk was predetermined? What if it was a rendezvous?” She thought out loud, feeling a sudden tang of worry with her dark musings.

  She closed her eyes and grimaced. There was no escaping it. If there was a threat, a source of Malice, planned and waiting to strike, she should feel… something.

  She felt nothing.

  There was no threat to her. None, whatsoever. She was well and truly safe. Which made the idea that her whole family was at risk extremely unlikely, if her sense of things had any legitimacy at all. She was playing the meek and proper young noble, acquiescing to demands from on high, having already proven herself a tool that was useful in the extreme. She had no doubt that the king was well aware of her gifts. How could it possibly profit the powers that be to turn on her clan now? Truly, it must be a subtle threat, or so far into the future that she felt nothing.

  Jess suddenly stopped cold, feeling the breeze ruffle her skirts.

  She was very good at sensing malice directed at her person, or at any group of which she was a member. But what if the wound to their family had no direct bearing on her? Perhaps Lady Verona was a decoy of sorts, though not intentionally so. What if the threat was to another family member alone? And the wound that would devastate her family would be an absence? A death?

  Jess shivered abruptly, haunted by the sudden terrible image of her family weeping over a grave as lighting flashed, rain pouring down upon the huddled figures.

  Her lips pressed together in grim resolve. Jess swore to herself that she would do whatever it took to prevent that horror from occurring.

  Whatever it took.

  Her parents were accounted for, and though Geoffrey might risk subtle dangers at Court, he was prudent enough to stay out of trouble, following his father's lead in all things. And as he was a proper heir and not the wayward eldest daughter, no one thought twice of the blade he habitually wore at his side. He was as safe as any of them could be at the moment.

  As much as Jess hated to admit it, if any of them were at risk right now, it could only be Apple.

  Jess shuddered at the thought, desperate to know for certain. Her sense of Malice involved primarily herself. Only because she was part of her family would she sense danger to her clan as a whole. If a foe meant to bring them all down, then she too was at peril, allowing her to sense the malicious underpinnings behind a given merchant's smirk, or a treacherous soldier's leer.

  If only she was Appolonia, she could sense a threat to her person, if indeed there was any danger at all.

  Jess stopped suddenly, her hands of their own accord changing to the pair of gloves she had squirreled away upon her person, gloves she felt far more secure in wearing.

  Perhaps there was a way.

  With calm deliberation, she slowly drew her fine steel stiletto out of her belt sheath and slowly sliced her cheek. Overlapping old silvery scars resonating with terrible memories lost in realms of dream and reverie, yet as real as anything she had ever experienced under the sun.

  With a shuddering breath, Jess allowed herself to sink into the oddest of reveries, feeling as if her soul had been pierced by the final rays of the setting sun, words flowing from her lips of their own accord.

  “By my blood, I claim myself. Fruit of Agda de Calenbry, child of her blossoms. By my blood, I recognize Appolonia. Fruit of Agda de Calenbry, child of her blossoms. Both of us, fruit of the same sacred tree. Both of us, blossoms of our ancestors' love. Together, we are them. Together, we are one.”

  With those words, Jess sensed the groves about the property rustling in unison, as if from a powerful breeze. She crashed to her knees, overwhelmed with a roar and surge. Her heartbeat roared at a stallion's pace. She blinked. And saw herself. Sagging to the ground, earth trembling around her, surrounded by blossoms.

  She saw herself hand in hand with a handsome young man. So earnest, peering at her with such aching, sweet affection. She loved the way he smiled at her. She loved the way he was the center of her world. As much as she adored her older sister, she was so tired of how everything always revolved around Jessica. It was nice to be the apple of another’s eye, for once. Apple smiled at the thought, laughing at her beau’s joke, his guardsmen trailing respectfully behind.

  Kipu's father had insisted on the armsmen, her beau had whispered apologetically while tenderly squeezing her hand, paranoid as he was that he would lose his son Kipu, much as Kipu had lost his mother, years before. But it was all right. Father had attended their family’s funeral, after all. He had understood, and had solemnly allowed Kipu's escort upon the grounds. And the guardsmen were ever so gracious.

  Kipu was smiling down at her even then, hand gently holding her own, and Apple felt safe and secure in his welcoming presence, chaperoned by their courteous honor guard. “Appolonia, truly you look as stunning as the night sky herself. Thank you for walking with me this evening.”

  She blushed and looked away. Normally she was not one for shyness, but something about the intensity of Kipu's gaze brought out the blushing daisy in her. She looked demurely up at him, gently squeezing his hand. “Thank you for keeping me company, Kipu. I missed our chats, so long it's been since we could see each other. I’m just so glad you could make it. Your father seems so afraid to even let you out of his sight.”

  Kipu nodded solemnly, his intent brown eyes gazing so forlornly into her own. "It is I who am grateful to you, dear Apple. I'd brave a dozen dragons to have the chance to see you in the flesh again, to feel your hand in mine." His lips curved into a gentle smile. "I would even face down my own father, so afraid to have me out of his sight, and such a noble feat is exactly what I have done, my chaperones aside."

  His eyes were so gentle, his sweet smile pierced her heart. Apple knew she was in love.

  Her pulse quickened at the very thought.

  Would Mother approve? Would Father? Would her half-mad sister, living her life like she was lost in a faerie tale, sabotage everything, or would she be happy for her?

  Apple laughed softly to herself. Time would tell, but there was no time like the present. “My brave knight has fought nobly for the honor of my company. At the very least, he deserves a kiss.” And gently, tenderly, heart racing, Appolonia slowly lifted her hungry lips to meet his own.

  35

  Heart hammering, Jess blinked away the vision. Somehow, her fierce burst of intuition had worked. Again. She shuddered, feeling for a moment so dizzy with exhaustion she wanted to collapse upon the ground. She was not in the Dreamrealms, after all. She could only imagine there was a price to pay, performing such acts upon the face of Dawn. After several deep breaths, she forced herself to get up, her Delver's strength returning within moments to her limbs. Or perhaps it was panic. She understood now, or thought she did.

  Ancient screams of terror, piteous wails of helpless despair pierced Jess to the quick as she forced herself onward, from shaky walk to fierce sprint within a handful of moments.

  She understood the threat, for on some level a connection had been forged. After all, but a single generation back, she was Apple, and Appolonia was her. Both from the womb of the same mother. Slowly yet inexorably, the throb of anxious dread Twilight had sensed, that faint disturbing niggle, began to blossom within her own awareness.

  She understood the source of the threat. The details would be clear with time. Now, though, she knew which direction to point her blade, to compel her foe to manifest before her, and when the time was right, s
he would strike true.

  “Jess, what have you found?” asked a suddenly alarmed Twilight as he raced through the foliage to land expertly upon her shoulder. “I smell the remnants of Ritual. Where is the threat?”

  “It's Kipu. The boy she is with. I’m not sure how yet, but I think, I think it all stems from him. We have to get to them!”

  “What do you know for certain?” Twilight asked.

  Jess gave a helpless shake of her head even as she steadily loped forward. “That’s the problem. I don’t know. Not yet. But I…formed a link, between Apple and I. And for those moments, I understood. And in a flash, it was gone. But I can taste it. On the edge of my awareness, I can taste that somehow he is the source of our trouble. Whether the quick hot strike of lightning or a slowly brewing storm fit to level the countryside, I can’t yet tell.”

  Jess hissed. “I need to see him. I need to sense him, to taste him in my mind and thus understand his darkness. To truly feel his Malice.”

  “Not surprising. No queen, not even your mother, could sense the bile of an underling without being able to taste his psyche. Which is why most of the lesser brood seek to avoid the sight of their masters as much as possible.”

  “Twilight, why are you talking in riddles? We don’t have time for that now.”

  Twilight nodded. “You are right, and it is irrelevant to the life you live now. Suffice to say you possess an old gift, Jess. One that has always served you well.”

  “What have you learned?” Jess asked tersely.

  "As I suspected. Lady Verona's driver and footman are the only ones who had been in that carriage, save herself and what I suspect is her whelp, some days before. Both of her men are presently drunk and dozing in the carriage. Apparently, Lady Verona is a very tolerant sort. No double feints from that quarter, at least.”

  Jess nodded curtly. “You were right, Twilight. She was not the threat.”

  Her breath hitched as she caught sight of her quarry. “Twilight! Do you see them? Up ahead.”

  Twilight nodded. “Yes I do. Appolonia and that young man. Two guards some short distance away, pretending not to see them kiss.” Her familiar’s ears perked forward. “There are two more armsmen a short distance off. Patrolling? Let me take a look.”

  With that her cat loped off her shoulder, darting through the underbrush even as Jess slowed down to a walk. Her sister was not in immediate danger, and she needed time. Gazing at the young man named Kipu. Sensing him. Feeling him. Her heart starting to pound with a hot, righteous fury. Her hand clenched the hilt of her dirk. She forced herself to take measured, deep breaths. Tasting the coppery tang of battle frenzy whispering so seductively to her, caressing her with the sweet promise of righteous slaughter as the terrible truths she had had but a glimmer of before began to unfold.

  36

  The two guardsmen at ease quickly blinked to full alertness as Jess approached. Perhaps it was her unrelenting stare, or the tightly coiled fury telegraphed in her every move, but as one they stepped back, bucklers raised, hands on the hilts of their arming swords.

  “Who goes there?” One yelled out, immediately grabbing the attention of Appolonia and her Beau. Apple flushed brightly, her eyes widening in horrified disbelief as she saw her sister approaching. Kipu’s gaze was calm and steady, both clearly discernible to Jess, even as the last glimmers of sunset slipped under the horizon.

  “Jess! By Heaven's light, what are you doing out here?” Apple cried out in dismay.

  Fully aware of both guards and their alert movements, Jess’s eyes were locked to Kipu’s.

  It helped if she moved, she found, to take it all in.

  Slowly, she circled them, the pair of guards eyeing her warily, keeping themselves between her and their ward, by long habit not crossing the direct gaze of the noble class, but ready to spring forth in a heartbeat.

  Jess’s smile was bleak, the hot grin of a wolf stalking down a threat to her cubs. A threat she was more than ready to tear asunder.

  “Kipu. Kipu is your name. Did you not think I would taste the truth of its meaning?” Jess's voice rang eerily across the field.

  Kipu, far from alarmed, gave her a cool smile. “You must be Jess. Your sister has told me so very much about you. How charming to meet you.”

  Her grin did not waver, she would not be deterred. “Your name means ‘pain’ in the old tongue. Do you think we have all forgotten the old truths? And I know who granted you that name, Kipu. One who screamed and ached when she gave birth to you. One who never forgave you for ripping her womb when you came forth. No daughter she would ever have, only the son of the man who had claimed her from her father’s house by taking her by force, a sweet prize no man would ever want.”

  Jess’s dark grin grew hot with satisfaction as she saw him pale and step back. “Ah yes. You didn’t think I would know, did you? You didn’t think anyone could possibly know. But I do, Kipu. Oh yes, I do.”

  And Jess could see it all in her mind’s eye, plain as day as she paced around him. The slowly narrowing spiral, each circumference but the slightest bit tighter than the one before it, yet nevertheless serving to contain, to constrict, to tighten the trap.

  Her blood, unnoticed, still dripped from the wound on her cheek to the ground at her feet. The air began to smell of copper and darkness. Of fury unleashed.

  "Jess! Stop it, stop it right now!" A panicked Apple turned to her beau, her hand reaching out to him. "Oh, Kipu. She has these airs, sometimes. I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry."

  Kipu's wide-eyed disbelief snapped into a bitter smile, his dark gaze still locked fully upon Jess. "So. You know my very old, very ugly secret. How exceedingly impressive, your deduction. Thank you so much for insulting me and bringing to the fore the shame of my existence. How very… gracious of you."

  Jess’s eyes burned fierce. She would not be deterred. “And she never forgave you, Kipu. Did she? Cold and bitter, your father too busy with affairs of state, too ashamed at his rash, half drunken and boorish taking of your mother. He never forced her again, thinking he was granting her a mercy. Never held her in love either, for she refused him, spit at him whenever he attempted a drunken apology, and she screamed at him. Screamed how much she hated being perpetually locked in her quarters, hated being trapped in there with his monstrous little brat. It was you she was talking about, and the memory of those words burns through your mind, even now. Doesn’t it, Kipu?”

  Kipu’s eyes went wide and he stepped back, heaving short, tight, disbelieving gasps. “You are mad, woman! A sick mad creature who should be locked in an asylum! How dare you… how dare you…”

  Jess's laughter was low and dark. "You don't need to deny it, Kipu. For I see it. It caresses the Malice you hold so tightly in your heart, the hot fire that motivates you to destroy innocence, turn hope and love to horror and agony, so you can find sweet release in the shattered screams of those you torment to soothe your own broken soul."

  Apple looked at her sister in horror, shaking. “Oh by the gods. By the gods, I can’t believe this is happening! What is wrong with you, Jess? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Her sister's utter dismay would have hit Jess like a blow were the situation otherwise. But grimly, Jess forced herself to go on, as the ugly truths, through a fog of crimson mist in her mind's eye, slowly began to reveal themselves as she continued to circle Kipu. To see his wide-eyed disbelief war with darkest hatred within his furious gaze. To hear his hitched angry breath, to see his sweat-soaked forehead. To smell him. All grew clearer as Jess slowly circled, her freely bleeding cheek a slowly dripping counterpoint to her measured, deliberate steps.

  “It was when you were twelve that your mother ended it. Right, Kipu? Always cold, she had never warmed up to you. Had never forgiven you for what had happened to her. After you grew older your father had tutors and maids take care of you, though it never filled the hole in your heart from your mother’s rejection, nor the anger. And that anger is why you did it, isn’t it, Kipu?”

&nb
sp; Jess's smile was cold as a winter gale even as Kipu paled and shrunk back, lips curling in a snarl. “What was her name, Kipu? Your first playmate with the curly blond hair who laughed so freely? Whose mother always took care to give you extra treats with your studies, and thought it would be so nice if you two played together. What was her name, Kipu? Surely you remember. It began… with an r.”

  “Rosalind,” Kipu said softly, entranced by Jess’s mad gaze, her slowly circling form. “Her name was… Rosalind.”

  “Yes… that tastes right.” Jess hissed with satisfaction, and the air began to throb ever so slightly, the smell of hot copper growing stronger.

  The scent of betrayal, the reek of blood.

  “You hated her, didn’t you Kipu? You hated her laughter, her innocence, her insistently striving to befriend you, to share confidences with you. Her, a mere commoner, a cook maid’s bastard daughter, having the gall to speak to you in such familiar tones, to assault you with her stupid naïve dreams about marrying a prince and future happiness! Why, she didn’t even know she was a bastard, did she? And you couldn’t stand her. Why? Because she was happy! She laughed, she played, she had dreams, she loved. She was not crushed by the dark bitterness that consumed you. That had always consumed you since the first time your mother made it so crystal clear how much she loathed you. And all your hurt, all your pain turned to one hot moment of fury.”

  Kipu was trembling, gazing at Jess with unmistakable loathing, yet he could not look away, as if held in helpless thrall to her furious gaze.

  “Walking up to your lessons, weren’t you? Your father sensed something was wrong and was determined to beat it out of you. He trained you unmercifully in the courtyard, didn’t he, Kipu?”

  “You have no idea,” Kipu hissed bitterly, then blinked. Surprised he had said even a word. His gaze showed his alarm. Firmly he clamped his mouth, obviously refusing to let himself utter another word.