“Quite and interesting little get-together we're having so far, mistress.”
Jess blinked and caught sight of her familiar, shuddering as he seemed to bend at right angles to everything, oozing right through the door as it closed. Jess sighed at his words.
“What's wrong? You've seen me pop through doors a dozen times, and it looked like you and Javiar were having a wonderful time.”
Jess nodded. “We were,” she whispered. “But the more we spoke, the more I felt that something wasn't quite right. Considering the wine, how savvy our hosts were to our particulars, I just know something is up.”
Twilight smirked. “Was it the poppy extract in the wine? Or the way your lover knew so much about you and diOnni, among other players in Erovering's Court?”
Jess flushed. “Pretty much, Twilight, and he's not my lover.”
Twilight arched his brow. “Only by the thinnest of silken margins is that true, you know.”
Jess winced. “Well, yes. You're right. But still.”
Twilight nodded. “You were gathering intel, seduction being but one tool in a Squire's arsenal. Impressive, but I had the impression that was one line you weren't willing to cross.”
Jess flushed. “It wasn't like that, Twilight.”
Her familiar's nod was almost apologetic. “I understand. You actually favor this Javiar, and pursued him from genuine interest. But as he was absolutely leaking interesting tidbits that might, or might not prove useful...”
“I soaked it up like a sponge. Yes.”
Twilight nodded. “And the way you threw Lady Putrice off the scent, blathering about dress maintenance when she was trying to catch you out in darker games...”
“Yes. I played the idiot. I do have a knack for it, after all.”
Twilight grinned. “It was a brilliant move, mistress. Since so often you aren't pretending, no reason for her to expect duplicity now.”
Jess smirked. “Thanks, I think.”
"And I do believe I see the corridor to Neal's quarters to our left. A good thing his family is also of sufficient wealth to merit such exclusivity, as is the case with so many of your friends, conveniently enough. Hold but a moment, Jess. Let me make sure there are no lackeys of Putrice conveniently keeping watch."
Jess immediately slowed to a stop, miming fiddling with her slippers as Twilight scouted ahead.
“The coast is clear, mistress, for all that we are many miles from any coast.”
Jess flashed a tight grin, slipper straightened, proceeding onward at a relaxed pace past Neal's quarters before abruptly darting inside.
Half a dozen pairs of startled gazes locked on her, more than one Squire of War drawing blades technically forbidden for them to carry inside the keep proper, before shaking their heads and resheathing weapons once more.
“Bloody hells, Jess, you startled the nickers off me,” Malek said, brown eyes twinkling mischievously as he gazed upon peers far more discomfited than he.
“Neal, I thought you said the door was locked?” Scowled Lucas, as thick and burly a Squire as Eloquin had let into their ranks, and for all his rough manner, Jess quite liked him, and the fact that he could throw spells as well as use a lance had afforded him a certain amount of forgiveness for his rougher edges.
Neal rubbed his sandy hair, frowning at the door. “It was.”
Jess had the grace to flash a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I was in a hurry. And Lady Putrice is far too anxious to catch me in her webbing for me to take any chances.”
Several of her fellows chuckled amiably enough at that, Erica gazing pointedly at Jess.
“What did you learn?”
Such innocent words. Yet with Jera's intent gaze it was enough to make Jess flush, and no one in that chamber was a fool.
Jess swallowed, dipping her head. Bloody hells, she hated everyone knowing everything. "They are Velheim nobles. There can be no doubt. Eligible younger sons and daughters...and I sensed no malice when I gazed into a certain lord's eyes."
“In between kissing him?” Smirked one of her fellows, Neal's cool gaze immediately silencing him.
"Yes," Jess replied, locking gazes with Mortant, the wiry young man with mouse brown hair immediately swallowing and looking away. "After we kissed. We shared childhood stories, more infused wine than I really should have let myself sip, and perhaps a bit of laughter as well." Jess found restless fingers absently rubbing the lace of her dress. How strange. She normally detested dresses. "He seemed genuine when he said that he is, for all intents and purposes, an extra son of a once powerful clan who still holds a certain amount of prestige and influence, pressured by his family to come along to this little soiree in the hopes of finding a possible love match, I take it, so long as his chosen is of rank and manners sufficient to please his clan.”
Odd silence. Jess swallowed and spoke on. “What I gathered is that, whatever else is going on, this really is a genuine gala serving to foster courtships between nobles of various clans. But it is not our northernmost neighbors being represented here, however these lads and girls were coached to present themselves. They are the second and third-born of Velheim families, seeking to marry into the clans of northern Erovering.” Jess bowed her head. “After we... talked, he... proposed to court me.”
Her peers were strangely silent, even solemn, as Jess swallowed, finding her voice once more. “The way he looked at me, confident manner suddenly gone, as uncertain as any boy or girl whose heart beats too hard for artifice... he looked like my answer really mattered to him, in a rush to assure that he could take care of me, I suppose, that I would be accepted by his clan.” Jess grimaced. “He claimed to be offspring to an exceedingly wealthy trading clan, and didn't hesitate to make comparisons between his House and the diOnni clan.” Jess forbore to mention intimations of trade alliances already forged between the clans, caring for her friend Raphael too fiercely to risk blackening his family name under even the loosest of associations, should events truly take a sour turn in the hours or days ahead.
"Bloody hells, this cannot all be coincidence," Malek declared. "Getting the Nobles Council up in arms about Eloquin's elite, riling up all the professors to take a stand against you, a score of Velheim nobles hunting for marriage prospects at a war academy belonging to a former enemy, and not a single peep of protest here? Putrice must be playing a long game, with more shadow alliances than you can shake a stick at.”
Jess nodded. "Pretty much, and their intel is exceptional. They know of Raphael's clan, and Javier knows of the Calenbry clan as well, for all that he feigned not even to know my age when first we... kissed." Jess blushed at that, shaking her head. "Javiar unwittingly revealed his hand while hastening to assure me that his family would welcome and accept me if he managed to win my heart."
Neal blinked. “You managed to wrap him around your finger after a single dalliance? I'm impressed, Jess. I think you'd make a smashing good agent, if you work this fast.”
Jess flushed and looked away.
“Ah. I... misunderstood. My apologies.”
“I didn't intend for anything to happen. It did. And I think, as much as I know the whole thing is a bloody setup, as much as I know that there has to be some scheme behind all of this... I like him, and I think he likes me too.” She forced herself to look up. “What I am saying is that at least some of those scions, perhaps most of them, are just pawns. Puppets dancing to their families' tune. We know Putrice is involved. There is no doubt about that. But is she a rook upon the board? A pawn? A queen?”
Jess gazed intently at her thoughtful friends. "Who arranged for them to come here in the first place? Who coached them about our families? Is it really as simple as fostering marriages between Erovering and Velheim? Simple matchmaking?" Jess shook her head. "We now know that someone is pulling strings, and we need to know how far it goes."
Neal frowned. “It goes far enough for them to drug their wine with the most exotic of vices. If that is not a recipe for seduction and dalliance, I don't know what is.”
Malek nodded, his arm giving Jess a companionable squeeze. “Not so uncommon a vice as that, quite popular among the richest and most jaded in Krona, and let's be honest, Neal, we both know more than one lord has used it to seduce young heiresses to considerable estates, further leverage to press a suit for marriage.”
Neal sighed. "True. Still, such jaded politicking, with our fellow students as targets... You all know I can be a right ruthless bastard, but I can't say I'm at all comfortable with this soiree. I seriously doubt the dean knows that Lady Putrice is using her influence to arrange for the seduction and marriage of several dozen of our peers to the Velheim nobility."
Erica scowled, even as she leaned into Neal, his arm circling her almost of its own accord. "If that's all this is, Lady Putrice using her influence to foster courtships between Erovering and Velheim, I think you'd be surprised, Neal, how many parents would be quite fine with it, so long as their prospective sons-in-law had assets worth the deflouring of their daughters." Jess couldn't help frowning at this, for all that she knew it was true.
Erica sighed. "But if that's all this is, then why is Lady Putrice doing everything she can to hinder our ability to act as Squires?"
Mortant frowned. “What are you going on about, Erica? The lady has never even spoken to me, let alone tried to hinder me.”
“She's targeting the girls of Eloquin's band,” Malek explained. “Noble lords are not that likely to care too much about the wild excesses of their boys, but girls are expected to live lives of propriety and decorum, or at least, to have less savory pursuits safely cloaked in anonymity. Some of our best tacticians are Erica and Jess, among the handful of girls who ride under our banner, and all of them are vulnerable to public opinion. Lady Putrice let it be known that she has taken steps to inform each and every clan exactly what we do, what Eloquin forged us to do, even going so far as to arrange for Jess and Erica's expulsion, if they dare to don armor instead of dresses ever again while at Highrock.”
Erica paled and swallowed. "I can only imagine how it is for Jess. My mother's letter, hand-delivered by a grinning Putrice, made it quite clear that she has had us in her sights for quite some time, and that Mother is not pleased at all." She shivered, and Neal's hard gaze went soft with concern. "Honestly, I think Mother is going to force me to come home, no matter what happens, once she makes her way to Highrock."
Neal nodded. "And Lady Putrice is not just targeting the girls. Perhaps she wrote you off as a lost cause, Mortant, but she has made it quite clear to a number of our fellows that the Lords Council will soon bring Eloquin to trial in order to put a stop to his violent purges, and all who ride under his banner will be subject to formal censure as well."
More than one Squire frowned at those words.
Mortant paled. “Eloquin has the king's favor! There is no way the bitch could get away with that!”
“Come, Mortant, think it through,” Malek said. “Lady Putrice obviously represents Velheim interests, probably springing from trade. There is a lot of coin to be made in trade, and a lot of wealth to spread around. I have no doubt that any number of lords with ties to various trade consortiums might find a lot of pressure brought to bear to strengthen ties between Erovering and Velheim. And for all that Eloquin has the king's favor, everything we do is off the books. Black operations, you understand that, right, Mortant?”
Malek gave a bitter shake of his head. "The king won't even formally recognize and condemn the flesh trade that is so rampant in this part of Erovering, so poorly do so many of our northern lords maintain their fiefdoms. Too many lords would simply use the king's formal concern as a pretext to demand the right to increase the number of men-at-arms they are allowed to have under their banner, claiming it's necessary to put an end to the banditry within their lands. That is the most contentious of issues between Council and Crown, and even I know that to push too hard would throw Erovering in turmoil."
Jess nodded. "Exactly. And for all that, many lords find slavery so damned profitable that they are loath to go against it. We've all read the accounts Eloquin gave us to study while we prepared for this day. How horrific life is for these serfs, jaded lords getting more coin to sell them than they would see in harvest profits, so finding it a simple economic equation, never mind that most of those half-starved farmers will end up savaged and brutalized within months, and dead before a handful of years pass.
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"So those same damned lords pushing for more power in court, claiming to be unable to keep their lands clean by themselves, are only profiting by the arrangement either way. Coin in their pockets for the status quo, or the hoped for rights of being able to accrue yet more power for themselves, becoming ever bigger thorns in the king's side as time goes on."
Neal's smile was bleak and cold. “So the king's stance is both ruthless and logical. There is no slavery in Erovering. The lords have no grounds to sue for bigger personal retinues. And should horrors be witnessed that demand response, Eloquin's blackened daggers will do what needs doing, without any politics getting in our damned way.”
Numerous scowls and nods filled the room.
"A bloody crime. I'd hang those bastards myself, if I could. 'Tis why I agreed to blacken my dagger after all," Lucas declared to heartfelt nods of agreement. No Squire was present, after all, who didn't plan on embracing all of Eloquin's lessons that night.
“But that's not our real purpose. And Lady Putrice knows it,” Neal said. “As righteous as our cause is, purging our homeland of slavers, tracking down strands of corruption for all that we dare not pursue actual lords without mountains of evidence, our true purpose is to master the most brutal aspects of warfare, so that should the king cry havoc and let loose his hounds of war, we, his most loyal wolves, will be ready to serve, hamstringing our foes however we can.”
The room filled with feral grins at those words, and never had Jess felt such fierce kinship with her brethren as she did at that moment.
“None of us are fools, and neither is Lady Putrice," Malek said. "She knows damned well we are training to strike at Velheim as much as any place else. The Velheim Wars are where Generals Eloquin and Arthur both were forged, to savage effect. The horrors they had inflicted would have had both men tried for war crimes, if our king was silly enough to sign treaties that served only our enemies' interests.
"So what better coup could Lady Putrice hope for, than if she manages to defang Eloquin's band before it can possibly become any type of threat? And what victory could be sweeter than his prized Squires marrying Velheim scions? Not only would that geld Eloquin, it would mean that half a dozen girls schooled in the most devious of Erovering's military doctrines would be tied by marriage, and one day children, to the fortunes of our former enemy. And how long before any girl, no matter how fiercely loyal to our cause, would find her allegiance shifting from Erovering to the father of her children?"
Even Erica swallowed at Malek's cynical declaration. “I can't deny that once I'm married with a babe in my arms, I would do anything to protect her. Anything at all.” She shuddered, gaze strangely haunted. “What mother could possibly feel any different?”
Neal nodded solemnly. “And if every female Squire training under Eloquin is betrothed to a powerful Velheim noble, Erovering's battle tactics are utterly compromised, particularly as we can only assume that each and every one of their male offspring will be serving as officers in Velheim's military, and what mother won't do all she can to teach her son how best to survive a Squire's tactics? We know damned well how ruthless we can be, after all.”
Lucas chuckled ruefully. "And I was talking with the sweetest little thing, before Jess flashed her warning. Pity, too. With Jess leading the charge, so to speak, I thought the way was open for my little bella and I to also savor the delights behind those silken curtains. Even if she was intending to play me, she seemed more than willing to treat me as her true love for at least this one gala." Lucas vented a theatrical sigh. "Oh well. Some things are just too good to be true, I suppose. 'Tis back to the serving wenches for me, then."
Erica rolled her eyes. “A good thing you tip them. I don't know how they can stand you otherwise.”
Lucas looked almost hurt. “They like me just fine. I have coin to spare, and when they tell me their little brother is just a silver away from a full apprenticeship and a better life, I'm not such a callous bastard that I won't help out.”
Jess grinned. “And no doubt they show their appreciation with great enthusiasm.”
Lucas flashed a cocksure grin. "Of course! It's an alliance. I treat them sweet, so what's the harm?"
Jess nodded. “You always do have the most sincere gaze when you ask for one of my tinctures, and I know your lungs are free of fluid, your heart beating strong. I never refuse you, but it is fun to see you blush when I smile at you.”
Lucas winked. “You are the savviest fool I know, Jess, and I do pass along who they can ask for a second dose, if their relative gets sick again. I wish to hell you took classes seriously, but you can couch a lance, and when it comes to plants, not even Lady Vaila is your match.”
Jess smirked. “Thanks. I think.”
Erica nodded. “I've never heard you slander your lovers for being of servant stock. Point to you for that, at least, but what if one of them catches your seed and blossoms? You're no fool, Lucas. Even the sweetest girl whose family is struggling will compromise her virtue in the hopes of a better life, and you are the son of a lord.”
Lucas flushed at that.
“In any event,” Neal said, “it is clear that Lady Putrice has political incentive to work at cross-purposes to us. Knowing as we do how high the stakes have truly become, with more than one of us at risk of expulsion if we dare to cross her, who among those present are still willing to blacken their daggers this night for our mentor and master?"
And Jess's heart swelled with pride. Of the near twenty students that had trickled into Neal's room, all of them slammed fist to chest, as fierce a salute as any commander could hope for.
Neal flashed them a satisfied smile. "Good. Then I will share with all of you this: Victory this night shall prove our cause. Servants saved from horror, the heads of those slavers who dare to confront us. Men and women sold like chattel will be shipped off to Council to give their accounts, and for all that no names will be said aloud, it will suddenly become extremely impolitic to dare question the means and motives of Eloquin and his band." Neal's brow furrowed. "Or at least, that is our hope. I did not realize how strong an influence Velheim had in certain circles, which is unforgivably foolish, I know. Even if they lack our military might, they are too savvy not to use what influence and resources they have at their disposal."
Malek nodded. “So what's the plan?”
Neal smiled. "The plan, for those that need it, is to sneak out by knotted rope, and I just so happen to have a number of such ready, for those presently under watch, who fear repercussions should they join us this eve by anything less than the most discrete means."
Lucas nodded fiercely. “And those of us that no servant or professor would dare try to intimidate will keep careful watch outside the windows of our friends. I know where all the girl's sleep, of course, and should any thug seek to make a play from the bushes while Erica or Jess slip down, they will get a right good thunking on their noggin.”
Jess and Erica shared a grin at that, for all that Lucas's intimate knowledge of all their quarters from the outside gave Jess momentary pause. Her friend's eyes, however, had only a zealous sort of friendship. Not an iota of malice, for all that he was one of the boldest men Jess had ever met, and not ashamed to flirt with girls of any rank, at that.
Neal's grin was equally sardonic. “I will keep watch as well.” He gently squeezed Erica's palm. “Don't be alarmed. Eloquin had all of us mind-map the quarters of our most vulnerable pieces, because you never can tell what the future might hold.”
Jess flushed to think she was a prized piece that needed such care, both embarrassed and, yes, flattered as well. As fierce and bold as she liked to be, in her heart of hearts she appreciated when someone cared enough to be protective of her, whether or not she needed it.
After carefully making sure that all the ropes would hold, Jess solemnly instructing her friends how best to knot it to thick oaken bedpost, making sure each could do so effortlessly for all that Eloquin had trained them in rappelling down cliff or castle face in full gear during their first year, they discretely began to break up and part in ones and twos, Jess earning more than a few looks when she would raise her hand and tell her friends to wait, that someone suspicious was glaring down the corridor before abruptly nodding, saying the coast was clear.
Lucas scowled. “And how do you know when people are looking this way, Jess?”
Jess flashed a grin. “My invisible familiar that none of you believe in is keeping watch and letting me know.”
Her friend smirked. “Sure, Jess. I take it it's your warped gift, that you sense them near the doorways like an odd vibration of sorts?”
Jess gave a thoughtful shake of her head. “An interesting idea. I haven't thought of that before. Nope, it's my cat, but thanks for the idea, and you need to go right now, one of Putrice's lackeys will be making a turn in seconds!”
Twilight shook his head. “You can lead a horse to water...”
Lucas, however, had taken her seriously enough to dart out, female squire snug beside him as if they were courting and so more likely to be wandering about than not, and within seconds they were clear.
Jess, among the last to leave, shared a farewell nod with Neal and Erica both, not doubting what was to be shared between them in the brief pause they had before all of them were bearing live steel, looking death in the eye. She had the grace to say nothing but leave with a farewell smile, Malek by her side as they left as one.
An excited squeeze of her hand. “Are you ready?”
Jess flashed her friend a cheeky smile. “Damn right, I am. We will catch out those damned slavers, free their victims, and prove to king and council once and for all how important we are, even if we must be discrete about it. The key players will know be forced to consider how bad they would look, crossing us in the future.”
Malek smirked. “Unless Putrice's pull is so great that we really can be played off as savage murderers butchering without trial, to be exiled to our noble estates for years on end.”
Jess grimaced and swallowed, not liking that idea at all.
Solemn brown eyes gazed into her own. “Jacob's quarters are over here. And even though we've had our differences this week... I'd like to make peace before we do what needs doing.”
Jess nodded her head. “I understand. And I agree. You should.”
Malek frowned. "Lady Putrice has focused upon you like a hawk. For all that she has been all smiles and lace with you tonight, I think she expects you to return after you have... rested. Catching our secret weapon up in a marriage alliance with our one-time enemies would be quite a coup for the Velheim camp."
Jess smirked. “Though I'm hardly a secret weapon, she did seem both surprised and pleased that Javiar and I hit it off so quickly.”
Malek nodded. “Do you want me to escort you to your quarters? On the off chance she is there, shouting at the door or some such, I can say I was escorting you to the Healers Wing, and there won't be much she can say, daring to spike everyone's drink with poppy extract.”
Jess smiled and shook her head. “No need, Malek, I told her much the same. You say goodbye to Jacob. If I encounter Lady Putrice, I'll say something along those lines myself. I'd be surprised if it came to that, though. I didn't see a trace of hate or malice in her gaze, for all that there is a coldness that would see me expelled, if I don't dance to her tune.”
Malek gave her shoulder a comradely squeeze. “It won't come to that, you'll see. And Jess?”
“Yes, shieldbrother?”
Intent brown eyes stared into her own. "Don't come if you're not ready for this. I mean that. I don't care what Neal thinks, your safety is far more important to me than whether or not you can help us parry what will no doubt be a few poorly aimed crossbow bolts at best, no match for our armor unless they were arbalests or ballistae mounted upon a castle wall."
Jess's gaze was equally intense. “There is no way I am letting brothers and sisters I've trained with since I first came to Highrock face danger without me, Malek. You know that. If even one of you were to perish to a slaver's lucky blow... that's not something I could bear to live with for the next forty years.”
Malek nodded. “You know I feel much the same way. I blacken my dagger for my brothers and sisters-in-arms every bit as much as I do for Eloquin's cause.”
Jess gave her closest friend a kiss on the cheek. "We are the same, then. I will see you when the moon is high, shieldbrother."
Malek winked, quickly making his way to his lover's quarters as Jess proceeded to her own, her mind flittering on a dozen things, her heart starting to race once more as she contemplated in what was truly in store for her tonight.
For the first time since attending Highrock, she would be fighting in earnest, with live steel, against furious, desperate men all too happy for a chance to kill her, should she lose focus for even a second.
She swallowed and turned the corner to her quarters.
“Jess, have a care!” Twilight hissed, but it was already too late.
Jess, armed only in her skirts and makeup, locked gazes with two of the very few servants who had no reason to love her. No reason at all.
Usel, the oldest of the two brothers tending to the pigsty some distance away from the central keep, glared at Jess, cracking oversized knuckles, his near-identical brother Vidic gazing at Jess with an oily smile. Both were broad-shouldered men, powerful limbs from grueling daily work assuring their considerable bulk was far more muscle than fat, and Jess knew all too well how hard Usel hit.
“In a dress, where you belong. Like any other bitch that knows her place. Not so mighty now, without your blade, are you girl?”
Jess swallowed as her heart lurched into a frantic gallop, locking gazes with two men who had every reason to hate her, on the only evening she had ever walked the halls of Highrock completely unarmed.
Vidic's black toothed grin only widened. “Now, brother, have a care. No one could prove we did anything to that bitch. We still have our jobs, and if no woman here will speak to us, there are always the whores in town. Things could be worse. Far worse. But they are better. Not only for us, but for this tart as well. Because you're going to be a good girl, aren't you, tart?”
“Damn good indeed.” Usel leered. “You're expected back at a certain dance, and we're going to see you get there. We were paid good coin, being the strongest of all of Highrock's working men, to give you... what's the word, Vidic?”
“An escort, brother. We were paid to escort our little Jess by people who know not to listen to nasty rumors. People who could use strong servants with good heads on their shoulders, and not afraid to get their knuckles dirty for a cause.”
Jess took a cautious step back.
“Don't move, bitch!” Usel snapped. “You like your privacy, and we like it too. No one is around, and I think it's time we evened the score.”
Smiling, Vidic slowly pulled out a massive cleaver. Jess couldn't help but catch sight of the flecks of gore long since stained upon the blade, for all that the edge itself shone with deadly sharpness, no doubt recently whetted.
“Vidric! You were supposed to wait!” Usel hissed, drawing a wooden baton of his own.
"The hell with that!" Vidic snapped. "Everyone's focused on that damned posh gala. The corridors are empty, even the servants were given leave! Why the hell should this bitch get to marry foreign nobility after smearing our names and tarring our reputations through the whole damned school? She goes down, we drag her corpse in the storage room down the hall, cover her in the posh cape we stole, and plant the blade in that prissy nobleman's room, just like we planned."
Vidic's laughter was dark and cruel. "Come, brother, we have a would-be knight all puffed up in silk and lace. It's time we showed her what happens when you cross our clan!”
Usel paled. “You don't say it aloud, idiot! Now we have no choice. Charge as one!”