War Bow

by P. S. Power

  Faine ate and nodded, at the same time. It seemed rather agreeable, even if he did have to talk to a child over the meal.

  “I have that same issue. All the squires were told that we’re leaving on a small campaign, in a few days time and to ready ourselves. Now... I’m to get fine magical armor from you? How does that work, do you think? I have... Two gold coins, to provide everything I need for the trip. That’s a lot, but not even a tenth what a fine mail shirt would require.” There was an easy shrug then, as if it were simply a factor that he couldn’t get around.

  Ander’s simply lied then, in part.

  “It’s a gift, from your knight and Prince Robarts. There might be better weapons as well, if I can work that out in time. Not just for you, all the squires are getting the same thing. The knights as well, but you lot get to go first, since it might take me a few attempts to learn to size things correctly. This campaign is a guard duty, and not that dangerous, but we’re at war. The safety won’t last forever.”

  There was a slightly downcast look then, eyes on the table, as the boy teared up. At first Farad didn’t understand, until a smile came.

  “I didn’t know that anyone would think of us squires, like that. Even men at arms are required to buy their own armor. Sometimes the levies get old armor, if there’s any left. Only as a loan, of course. When the war is over, it has to go back into storage. Mail doesn’t store well, though, so it’s normally half rust, if it’s not soaked in barrels of hot lard and protected that way.”

  That sounded extreme, but Anders had heard of oiling the armor, which was probably one of the tasks of the squire. That the boy would know more about that topic than he did, simply made sense. To that end, he nodded, and decided to look into the matter more, later, if he ever had the time.

  They hurried through the food, which was good, and filling, but finished it all, then left their plates, which was the custom in the low hall, and walked with purpose back to his room. There was no fire and night had fallen outside, making the room near black once they got inside.

  Being careful, Anders touched the stone wall to his right.

  “Bar sot ere- Fen ot...” He had to concentrate, but knew the pattern he wanted to use. A light, like the sun, came into being above his hand, high up on the wall, overlapping the ceiling a little. It was a bit sloppy looking, but would work and go out when he uttered the last word, while thinking about it.

  Squire Faine squeaked, stepped away from the wall and took a stance, his hands raised, ready to fight. He even turned to Anders, which meant he was greeted with a well illuminated and hopefully friendly, smile.

  “Sorry there, I should have warned you first. This is just a light, so we can do the needed work. No need to beat me for it. Even if I could have done a nicer looking job of it. Now, I think the best plan will be to make a gambeson, a bit too large, then to resize it while you wear it. We’ll do cloth first, in case it hurts. That’s softer than metal.”

  There were twenty minutes where he laid out and shaped the thirty-four layers of linen, turning it into a bigger version of what he was wearing himself. Then, after taking off his old, well-worn armor, showing an even older, rather threadbare undershirt beneath it, Faine put the new one on.

  “This is fine work! Solid and not like to break open if I ever get hit for real.” It was still a light tan, instead of a more interesting or festive color.

  With something like ten slow movements he pulled the whole thing in, making it thicker in places. Made it look lumpy and while no complaints came, it was probably going to be uncomfortable. That meant spreading the strength of the fabric evenly, which took far too long. Nearly half an hour just for that portion. It was clear that he needed a specific magical word or phrase just for that, if he was going to be responsible for doing several such things a day.

  The mail was, oddly, faster, if physically harder. He was drenched with sweat and breathing hard when he was finish, or nearly so. Holding up his right hand, he waved it a bit, not able to speak clearly yet.

  “Are you well, Master Brolly?”

  He was able to nod and fake a smile, then, after a minute, came back to nearly normal.

  “What color do you want for the gambeson?”

  The squire laughed then. A soft thing, but a real one.

  “I get to be all fancy, as well? I don’t know. My house colors are forest green and black. One of those?”

  Anders did a bit better than that, taking it as an excuse to practice. In the end, after no more than a minute, the undertunic was in a deep green, with a black diamond on the front and back. It looked good, without seeming as if the squire were laying claim to a station above his own by having a specific barding. Then, from the sound of it, his family probably had their own crest, which could have been placed there. Not that they had time for that kind of thing at the moment.

  Besides, people only really wore that sort of thing to battle, so they’d get credit for the kills they made.

  The squire stood back and then bowed.

  “This is amazing. I just send the others in at you in a group? We could start after first meal, if that suits you?” He seemed oddly hopeful about that idea.

  “I can’t. I still need to make other preparations for the journey. After the late meal again. Send... Call it two of them? We might be up late, working. As it is...” The truth was he had a bit before he needed to sleep, without there being anything in particular for him to do that he could.

  Except, he realized, that wasn’t true. He could make the needed armor up, making it large, to have on hand for the next day.

  The squire took his old gambeson and moved to the door, just turning and walking away. He waved though, which was companionable enough for Anders. For Farad as well. It was far closer to what his old life had deemed normal than all the formal bowing and such he had to do most of the time any longer.

  At the door, when it opened, Anders noticed that Lady Lyse stood outside of it, a smile on her face. It wasn’t a genuine thing at all, but didn’t betray what she was truly feeling. She curtsied, holding her dress as she did so, but it was a light and almost absent minded seeming thing.

  “Squire... Faine, isn’t it? Sir Humphrey’s assistant?”

  The boy bowed, holding the old cloth armor in the crook of his left arm. His face flushed a bit, as if he felt caught out. It took a moment for Anders to understand that the man was simply startled by the presence of a lovely woman and it had flustered him. His mother was a beauty to be certain, but Anders had never truly thought of her that way. To him she was, first and foremost, his mother.

  The older boy, on standing, spoke well enough.

  “That’s correct. Lady Lyse, I believe? I don’t think we were ever formally introduced. Really, I’m surprised that you even know who I am. I don’t get to court much.”

  She simply nodded at him then, seeming bored already. That wasn’t the truth of the matter, of course. If she hadn’t wanted to engage the squire, she simply would have nodded or perhaps smiled. Which meant that her efforts, no matter what they seemed like on the surface, were going deeper than merely chatting in the hallway.

  “Few do, when they are squires. Sir Humphrey speaks highly of you. I... See that you are wearing fine armor. That’s a sudden change, isn’t it?” She waved at what he had on, her face suspicious again.

  “I am! Master Brolly here made it for me, using magic. He said that it was a gift, from Sir Humphrey and Prince Robarts. I do appreciate the armor, but that kind of thing sounds serious, doesn’t it? It easier to get new squires, than good armor for them. I hear that we might have weapons coming as well. Again, from Master Brolly here, if I have that right. This new kit is tested to be a superior type of armor, as well. Not as good as strong plate, since it bends under the blow, but still, this isn’t some little thing, is it?”

  She blinked then and stood straighter.

  “That isn’t. Well, best I let you get to your bed, I was just coming to check on my son before he finds his ow
n slumber.” She seemed somewhat mollified by her conversation, at least.

  Another poorly executed bow came then, and the boy moved off, doing as he was told, it seemed. Lyse moved to walk into his room, looking up at the sudden bright light at the top of the wall, as she did. It was so much darker by lamp light in the hallway, though those were lit and in their stands, meaning she didn’t have to carry a light with her.

  As soon as the door closed, she glanced at the bed, which was made, then at him. Her gaze fairly scraped his being for a moment, then she smiled.

  “Good. I was afraid he might have been forcing himself on you. That or at least using threats to gain that armor. I hadn’t heard that Prince Robarts was spending coin on squires now... That’s, well, truly, it’s a good plan. We tend to treat them as if they don’t matter, but they’re the pool of future knights and often see battle if it comes. It could bode ill though, if things are so dire that boys must be dressed in magical armor for what is coming.”

  She clasped her hands in front of her, the silk of her fine gown shining. There were places where it was a bit shoddy looking, being rough from wear and use. The color had faded and there were places, nearly invisible to the eye, where something like ink had stained it, leaving black droplets.

  He looked up at her and nodded.

  “It could be taken that way. I lied to him. Sir Humphrey sent him for armor, since I need to practice making and fitting it anyway, but I don’t want everyone in the world to think to come to me for free things, so the fiction seemed sensible. Hopefully the thrashing from Prince Robarts won’t be too severe. It was just what popped into my head at the time.”

  His mother... Laughed.

  “Oh! That’s different then, indeed. Get with him as early as possible in the morning, to explain it, before he’s caught out with thanks or petitions for such from others. It’s poor form to beg for gifts, but so common it’s nearly a joke at court.” She leaned in then and nearly touched the metal of his mail. She didn’t, however.

  “I heard that this is a wonder. It certain looks good. The lines are clean and it gleams nicely. It’s a bit... Strange, to walk around in armor though. Gambeson is worn, but not other armor. Do you fear assassins? That... It probably won’t be a knife, but I can’t swear to it, if it comes. You could wear it under the cloth, I think? I’ve noticed that being done from time to time. It might seem less conspicuous.”

  Anders didn’t explain himself on that score, simply nodding.

  “I’ll do that, instead. Now, do you need something? I could go over your dresses, if you wish. Before I leave. Remove the stains, freshen the colors... I don’t know the styles, but if you guide me well enough we could change the cut as well? Change the look of the material, though I really only know a few so far and only silk is going to fit for that. I should learn some other ones, but for right now my time spent that way has mainly been on armor or minor healing.”

  She smiled at him then.

  “Honestly, it simply occurred to me that I could be a better mother to you, so here I am. Do you need anything?” She paused then and wrinkled her nose. “Oh, drat. I said that and I actually have some things for you to see to. I’ve a list of items that people would like taken to the front. It’s a lot. About half a cart load, at a guess.” That was pulled from a hidden fold in her gown, and passed to him without fanfare or bowing.

  Looking at it, going over the packing plan in his head, he nodded.

  “I can do this. Nothing else, since most of the space will be reserved for food and cooking supplies. This is... Still a good amount. Mainly in gifts to the generals, it seems. Some of it’s to share with the men and some useful items. I’ll have the wagon over to the far courtyard in three days. Then we can pack it before it’s time to leave. I hear that will probably take place at before first light, on the day. Thank you for collecting these for me. I’ve been so busy... Well, that’s everyone, most likely.”

  She giggled at the words.

  “Oh, you. How silly! Almost no one is as busy as you’ve been these last days. Now, sleep well and make sure to eat enough. I’ll speak to you tomorrow?”

  That got a nod.

  “Certainly. If I can find the time. It’s always a pleasure to speak to you, mother. Now, I need to get out of this mail and into my sleeping clothes. I’ll talk to you then.”

  She left, with a familial bow at the door, and closed it behind her with a slight squeaking noise coming from the hinges. He could fix that, with a bit of oil, of course. At the moment, he simply took the armor and then the gambeson off, leaning over, hands outstretched, and shaking himself bodily to make it happen.

  Then he found his night clothes and got into bed.

  “Fen.” The light went out then, leaving the room dark enough that he couldn’t see anything at all. It was probably a mistake, he knew. If anyone was going to try to kill him, they could simply walk into his room and do it in the night. If that happened, he’d simply never wake up. Worse, if the right person did it, they might not even be seen, being without visible form at the time.

  He got up and wedged his one chair under the latch on the door. It wouldn’t actually prevent someone from coming in, but it would fall to its feet if pushed, making a noise that might alert him to a possible danger. Then he’d have to respond fast enough to protect himself. A thing that wasn’t that likely, coming from a dead sleep.

  It was the best he could do though, at the moment and the truth was, no one would be coming for him that night. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be wise to learn to protect and guard himself when he was sleeping, however. For once, as he tried to think on the topic, nothing at all came to mind.

  It meant he slept, since he had little choice that way, being tired, but kept waking up, starting, thinking that he’d heard a sound. A whisper or a thump. Two times he made a light, seeking to find if the chair had fallen over.

  Thankfully, it hadn’t. The idea of waking up to a room with another person in it haunted him. Until light came, in the morning. Then, thinking about the night behind him, he felt weak and a bit silly.

  At least until he rose to face the rest of his day.

  Then it sunk in that the terrified boy and old man inside of him both understood that there was more danger than he could possibly understand.

  Chapter seven

  Horses swayed as you rode. It wasn’t that jarring, once you got used to it. Wagon’s on the other hand simply tried to shake your spine apart, with every rotation of their wooden wheels. That got better, once the wagons had gotten away from the fine cobbled roads around the castle town. The oxen seemed to like the dirt road better as well, so it wasn’t simply a thing that Anders had going on, alone.

  The reins were in his hands, since Sir Daniel had decided that the best way for him to learn was by actually doing the task for himself. It wasn’t hard, since the oxen, much like horses, resisted doing anything too foolish. Somehow, possibly due to luck, the beasts he’d gotten, Poke and Tanner, seemed to know what they were doing, and were willing to work with him on making the wagon move along.

  Then, they also had a leather line tied to the brass rings in their noses, so it could have been about that. He had to think that if he’d been in their places, he probably would have tried to placate the little two legged beast behind them as well. On the friendly side for all of them, he pretty much didn’t have to do anything at all, just let the animals follow the wagon ahead of them. That was about ten paces away, for an adult man, which was the spread that everyone seemed to be using.

  There were nearly a hundred wagons traveling with them, with an average of two people for each one of those, plus thirty men on horseback. Brownie and Chestnut were following along behind them, along with Sir Daniel’s courser. She was a bred war horse, but the truth was that his two looked very much the same. The colors were different, thankfully, with Storm being a cloud gray with black on the underbelly.

  Sir Daniel sniffed and looked around for a bit. His hair was short, as was And
ers. In fact, everyone with the knights had done that, making them look more official. It also hid Prince Erold and Prince Robards’ from casual observation. On top of that, they were all dressed in the same kind of clothing. Tan and scarlet red, with their gambesons all matching. They had steel mail over that, all in the same style, but he’d worked out how to make it a dull color that seemed almost golden. It was pretty enough, close up, but at a distant they looked a bit poor, even with good equipment that was high quality when you had a chance to examine it close up.

  Like honest knights might, at the start of a war.

  The knights had their own wagon with them, filled with nothing but tools and weapons. The main part of that was plate armor. Thousands of pounds of it, in fact. It was the kind of thing that made sense, once you saw it, but that didn’t really get recorded in the history books. If asked before that point, Farad would have assumed that the men would wear their armor all the time, not just in battle. Instead, all of them were perfectly fine dressing as he was for their duties protecting the supplies.

  In fact, it had been what they all expected to do, the entire time. No one had even suggested the knights or their squires do anything more than that. The only person who had gotten questioning looks over the clothing choice was Anders. Even that had been no more than a bit of staring, along with a smile or two when he nodded at the person doing it. From what he could tell, it wasn’t seen as offensive, merely not a thing anyone had ever really seen before.

  Then, most of the people didn’t speak to him at all, and the two who had both called him squire. A thing that he’d instantly corrected, asking them to just call him Andy. He, the boy within, hated the name, being too childish, but everyone had accepted it instantly, not asking why he was in fitted armor that, when standing close to him, seemed to be made of bronze, instead of steel.

  They’d only been on the road for half a day, so nothing had broken down, and no one had gotten wet from the rain that was coming. Looking at the sky, Anders nodded.