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Squire of War Page 5
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Page 5
Jera grinned. “With a simple wooden hilt and a wooden buckler, a perfectly straight blade does make an excellent wand for channeling lightning. I admit it. But I can still use it to cut and thrust if I find myself in the thick of it.” She flushed and turned away when she caught Malek's bemused gaze.
“Not that I'm any real warrior, not like you two,” she said in a far softer voice, “but I enjoy sparring, and I like to think I'm at least a cut above your typical helpless noblewoman; that I could at least fend off a cutpurse or two.”
Jess flashed her friend a reassuring grin. “No worries, Jera. For a novice, your technique is excellent, and sword and buckler is a style that's been around for more centuries than I can count. It is absolutely perfect for self-defense, and for self-protection in a bad part of town? I think you're more than a match for any rogue or cutpurse, so long as you remember that in a real fight for your life, there are no rules. The moment ne'er-do-wells approach, you don't try to reason with them. You unsheathe your sword before they can close, and strike without hesitation. You attack with fierce earnestness, you let no one flank you, and the moment your closest foe is down and you have distance from his friends, you run for safety and light, yelling your pretty little head off, just as fast as you damn well can.”
Jess blinked, ducking her head from her friends' solemn stares, realizing her voice had gone from playful banter to the hard tone of a commander. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so serious.”
Josie shook her head, golden locks all but shimmering in the light pouring in from the grand stained-glass windows set into the far wall. “No, Jess. There is no reason to apologize. How can you help but take seriously anything to do with the killing arts? Even as we embrace life's sweet possibilities, enjoying an eternal summer of learning and growth, you and Malek stand ever ready to defend us, to defend those in need against the worst depredations of those who delight in cruelty, slavery, everything the gods are against.”
Jera frowned at those words, but did not scold Josie for speaking in her place.
Alex turning to gaze at Josie, giving her a slow nod of respect. “So you understand, then. Few do, even within the mages circle.”
Jess lowered her spoon. “Alex? What are you going on about?”
Malek smirked. “Gods know there are far too many slavers in Erovering, a lesson I only appreciated since we began doing, well, what needed doing this summer, but no one has dared threaten our school, at least not that I know of.”
Alex gazed at Malek with odd intensity, eyes crackling with an intelligence his slender frame could barely contain. “You and Jess are in the absolute thick of it. I've hinted at this for quite some time. Do you really not know?”
Jera, who could be as stern as she was beautiful, was looking less than pleased, fingers curling her rich mahogany hair in a warning clear to all. “Alex...”
Alex turned to his beau, voice softer, though no less intense. “They deserve to know, Jera. It's what we were talking about with our peers the other day. The basis for the little expedition we are planning...”
“We're not to talk about it!” Jera snapped. “It's just as secret as Jess and Malek blackening their daggers!”
Jera blushed, Jess and Malek both quickly looking away, Jess doing her best to distract herself, looking at her grinning cat, Twilight smirking at the interplay and not saying a word as he happily lapped the impressive tureen of fish stew a harried looking servant had brought with a smile the minute he had seen Jess seat herself. A tureen pretty much everyone at the table was ignoring, much like the happily munching cat. In other words, lunch as usual.
Raphael's gentle chuckle washed all awkwardness away. “I see that so many of my friends have exciting times just ahead. My heart goes out to each and every one of you. May you all successfully accomplish your objectives, whatever they may be. And when all is said and done, I know Josie and I would love to hear your tales during our next Circle meeting, whatever it is you are able to share.” He lifted his cup with a smile. “To Highrock, and the best band of friends anyone could ask for.”
Everyone smiled and drank, at ease and bantering once more, and Jess did her best to ignore the occasional too knowing looks sent her way once lunch had passed, harried-looking boys and girls darting to their classes as Malek and Jess made their way back to their respective quarters once more.
“What do you think Alex was going on about, anyways?” Jess wondered aloud. “And the way Raphael's eyes widened, I'm sure he knows.”
“Not a clue,” Malek said before weaving out of the way of a panicked-looking boy darting down the stone corridor. “Watch where you're going!” he snapped.
The youth immediately turned around, blanching as he caught Malek's gaze, the hot retort Jess sensed him but a heartbeat away from shouting turning instead to a breathless swallow. “I'm sorry, my lord. Please forgive me.”
“Bloody hells,” Malek grimaced, waving the boy away. “I would trust my fellows with my life, you know that, Jess, but somehow everyone always knows. And the first-years stare at us like we are wild beasts, afraid we'll bite their heads clean off.”
Jess shrugged. “Sometimes I think rumor is its own magic. It lives and breathes, even if no one is around to give it life. Somehow, people just know. As long as they don't know too much. As long as they don't know a single damned detail that can come back to haunt us.”
Malek nodded. “Thank the gods they never do.” Intent eyes gazed into her own. “What did you think of Mord being at practice today?”
Jess winced. “I could have gone the rest of the week quite happily without seeing his smirk. But knowing whose pet he is, I'm not surprised he was there.”
Malek nodded. “At least he's never shy about joining us, unlike most Aspirants. I have to give the bastard credit for that, at least.”
"Oh, he loves these little missions well enough, I suppose. He's a bloodthirsty bastard who just enjoys watching his enemies scream. But any tool for battle, as Eloquin might say."
Malek snorted. “He's a godawful jackanapes, but he has yet to stab us in the back during a mission, and he's damn good with a sword. For that reason alone, Eloquin puts up with him when we blacken our daggers. Still, I'd be happy to wipe that smirk off his face at school, but he laughs in my face whenever I try to challenge him.”
Jess flushed and looked away. “I'm not proud of who I become when the bloodlust is up, Malek. But I won't deny what I am, either. You, you are the same way. But Mord? He revels in it, and never feels a lick of regret, afterwards.”
Jess
Her familiar's surge of warning. Yet Jess still hissed in surprise when she turned the corner before her rooms to find Mord leaning against her door, grinning at her so cockily, sauntering towards her as she stared and fumed.
“And why should either of us feel a lick of regret, my prize? We revel in the chaos and madness of battle, in bringing the curs to heal that would dare to rise against us.” Mord's bemused smile turned dark. Savage. “We revel in their screams and blood as we cut them down to the last man. Without mercy, without remorse. No survivors. Just as your master prefers it.”
Jess scowled. “We hurt no innocents, Mord. You know that. Any captured serfs or freemen we find, we bring to the keep. To heal, to start life anew.”
Mord, dressed in tight fitting doublet and hose of darkest blue, chuckled softly, slowly circling Jess, gazing at her like a prized mare. He completely ignored a coldly glaring Malek, only flashing Jess a mocking smile when she felt the need to turn around, to always meet his dark gaze with her own. “Of course, my dear Jessica. Of course.”
“What do you want, Mord?”
He shrugged and smiled, cold eyes never leaving her own.
“What do I want, Jessica? The same things you do, I suppose. The hot satisfaction of rooting out the vile miscreants that would dare to fester upon our lands. The fierce exultation of raining down my chastisement upon their broken flesh. The rush of running my sword through my enemy's heart, watch
ing their eyes glaze over in death.” His smile was bleak. Chilling.
Jess swallowed and looked away.
“Admit it, Jessica. You love the rush of blood and battle every bit as much as I do. Your heart races for the savage glory to come, whenever our masters cry havoc and unleash us to slaughter all foes. And it shows, my prize. Every revel afterwards, it shows.”
Jess felt herself flush hotly. “Cease your blather, Mord, and leave me be. I really don't want to have this conversation with you.”
Mocking laughter, fingers lightly brushing her cheek.
"Mord!"
Malek snarled, hands curled into fists. Only a fool would underestimate the strength of a trained Squire. Tightly corded musculature hidden by his attire, the Sousel clan had always possessed a deceptive strength, and Malek was all too easy to underestimate. Yet a few broken bones during their first year at Highrock had made it clear to all that Malek was one student it was best not to cross, even before he had become a Squire, no matter his taste in lovers or friends.
“So this is the girl you would marry, Mord?”
Jess blinked, only in that moment taking in the girl who had seemed to blend so well beside Mord's glaring presence that Jess was only now aware of her. Soft lips pursed in a thoughtful frown as entrancing eyes peered ever so carefully at a suddenly discomfited Jess. Heart shaped features set off by dark hair the exact same shade as Mord's, the girl possessed a striking beauty, no less for her preference of silken doublet and hose that emphasized a body lithe and powerful, that of a fencer or a dancer.
Jess noted the diminutive rapier at the girl's hip, its silvered hilt matching the half-moon locket the girl wore. Normally Jess hated light fencing weapons of little use against an armored warrior, yet all too able to take the life of a soldier who fell prey to an arrogant noble's goading, dueling without armor or shield, playing to a rapier's strengths. But upon this girl's hips, the blade only emphasized her athletic grace.
Jess felt her cheeks flush under the other girl's considering gaze, but couldn't pull her eyes away.
“Does my cousin Sable meet with your approval, my sweet?” Mord's arrogant voice, an insignificant buzz.
Sable's lips curved into an approving smile. “She has a harlot's face, a warrior's arms, a mother's hips. You could do worse than her, Mord. Far worse.”
Jess shook her head, not knowing whether to be flattered or offended. “There's a lot more to me than my arms and hips. Perhaps you'd like to make a more careful examination in my quarters?”
Sable blinked at that, momentarily taken aback, before a slow smile caressed her lips.
Jess flushed as soon as the words left her mouth, the girl before her now chuckling throatily. “Oh, I do hope you actually manage to win her, Mord. She might prove quite delightful. A lovely distraction, if I end up forced home once more.”
It was then that Jess heard the soft cry of a baby. Sable's features flashed from anxious worry to cool exasperation in the span of a second. Gentle brows furrowing, she peered down the hallway. “That's what comes of taking pity on your house staff, even if it would have been easier to throw the silly chit in the street. Their burdens become your own.” She shook her head. “Come here at once, Ava.”
“Yes, my lady.” And as fast as the words were said, a young woman hurried over to them, quickly curtsying while holding a baby swaddled in finest fabrics, far beyond what any peasant woman, even a house servant, could normally afford.
Sable tapped her foot impatiently. “Well, let me see the little thing.”
“At once, my lady.” Carefully, Ava rearranged the child's swaddle such that Jess caught sight of the most exquisitely beautiful sleeping face, her cries having faded to soft murmurs once more.
Sable's gaze was tender. "It's important to care for Julia properly, Ava. Feed her, change her, rock her when she sobs. It is most disconcerting when her cries interrupt nobles during their discourse."
Ava blinked, gazing at Sable strangely before bowing her head. “Yes, my lady.”
Sable turned to Jess once more. “My apologies.”
Jess dipped her head. “No worries, Sable, motherhood must always come first.”
Sable blinked at this before chuckling softly. "At least that's one risk neither of us face, should we spend the afternoon in your quarters speaking of all of life's... possibilities."
Jess shivered as Sable leaned in and brushed Jess's ear with her lips. "You could do far worse than Mord, Jess. In fact, he just might surprise you. All you need to do is submit." She stepped back and winked.
Jess smirked, leaning in just as quickly as Sable had, caressing Sable's ear with her own lips. "Your cousin is a bloodthirsty toad. I'd far rather find you in my bed than he."
Sable abruptly burst out in laughter, ignoring Mord's furious glare. “I think I like her. She has fire, but I saw her eyes when she looked at Ava's... child. Your future babes will need someone tender in their lives, considering how cold the rest of our pathetic family is.”
Jess blinked as Mord's angry glare for her turned to the gentlest of gazes for his sister. Such a look on the face of her nemesis was troubling in the extreme. It made him seem almost human. “You know us all too well, dearest Sable. Jess will make a fine prize.”
Mord turned to a suddenly furious Jess, his cold smile never leaving his face. “Get your precious sleep, my Jess. Two days to rest up and dream of all the ways I will ravish you, after we are baptized in blood once more.”
“The hell I'll let you!” Jess hissed.
Mord's mocking gaze hardened. "It is time for you to stop refusing me during the revels. You know the claim I now have upon you." He smirked. "I know how much you value duty, and what greater duty is there than for a woman to submit to her family's wishes?"
With a final mocking wave he departed, never looking back, though Sable did, clasping the half-moon locket she wore, her solemn gaze locked upon Jess's own.
Malek slammed fist into palm. “Bloody hells. What games are they playing?”
Jess frowned. “You caught it too, then?”
Malek smirked. “What, the way Sable lost her entire veneer of jaded bemusement when gazing at the child? Or how odd it is for her to be coming to Highrock now, during the semester lull, and why is she bringing a wayward servant and her babe along, if it's not really hers?”
Jess nodded. “Or the fact that had Mord been born with softer features, a woman, not a man, the pair would look near identical.”
Malek frowned. “You're right. If they're cousins, the Plaga clan needs fresh blood for sure.”
“Either that, or they're not cousins at all.”
“Damn. And they look to be the same age, or close enough. Are they siblings? Why bother with all this secrecy then? Why is Sable even here? What game are they playing?”
Jess shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, but you saw the half-moon locket Sable was wearing."
Malek nodded. “What of it?”
“I've seen Mord wearing an identical one. I suspect normally he keeps it hidden under his doublet, but once when I spied upon him sparring, it dangled free. His opponent clipped it with his stick, and I swear, I thought Mord was going to kill the boy, so fierce was his rage."
Malek blinked. “Now that's interesting. Obviously he values it more than a casual trinket. Perhaps it's a receptacle for resonance magics? Most consider that superstition or folk-magic. Not really within the bounds of the elementalist paradigm.” Malek frowned thoughtfully. “It's conceivable such a thing could exist, however, relying on the magical principals of similarity and contagion. Someone might be able to get it to work, but only if it involved two halves of a whole. Of course that's impossible for people, unless...”
“Unless what? Malek, what are you talking about?”
Brooding eyes met Jess's own. “Do you think it's possible they could be twins?”
Jess shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. But let's say they are. So what?”
“Well, let's just say
... theoretically it's possible they could communicate through those amulets.” Malek chuckled ruefully. “And what we are engaging in here is the most absurd of conjectures. The kind of talk that once got folk burned as witches, in less educated times. We know they are related, and that they wear matching lockets. Odds are it's nothing more than that.”
Jess frowned. “Perhaps.” But she could have sworn she felt a flash of...something, just for an instant, when Sable had been holding her locket so tightly.
Maleks' friendly gaze hardened. "But the locket was not the only thing of note during our friendly little discourse."
Jess flushed and bowed her head, knowing she could never hide anything from her shieldbrother for very long.
A powerful hand gently lifted her chin. Soft brown eyes filled with such protective love gazed upon her own. "Jess, whatever it is, you can tell me."
Jess swallowed, giving a bitter shake of her head. "It's the Plaga clan. They, well, they are pressing suit for my hand."
Malek's concerned gaze turned dark. "Please don't tell me..."
Jess grimaced, squeezing back tears. "My father has not outright refused. To think, they would pair me with that bloodthirsty monster..."
"Bloody hells," Malek hissed. "That's madness! He's been a thorn in your side for years!" He sighed. "If only you could have told your family."
Jess turned away, fists clenched in frustration. "It's not that simple, Malek. Had I breathed a word about how cruel Mord truly is, had I told her how viciously he had attacked me and sought to maim me during the first year bouts, Mother would have delighted in it! It would have been the perfect pretext to pull me out of Highrock and stick me in the finishing school of her choosing. Thousands of hours of grueling training for nothing as I am suddenly forced to wear stifling dresses and primp before jaded men treating me like a third rate pick when I could wipe the floors with them in any training ring in the kingdom!" Jess shook her head. "Only then would Mord's victory, and my mother's, be complete."