“Curious, don't you think?”
Jess gasped, a smile of delight coming over her features as a familiar weight settled itself upon her shoulder.
“Twilight, you're back!”
“Indeed,” he purred, his head gently butting her own. “And you are no doubt already better for my company. Still, very curious what Eloquin let slip, isn't it?”
Jess blinked, almost stumbling, immediately catching herself with a grace to do any Squire proud. Or laugh at her expense, as she had almost tumbled head over heels in damned skirts she couldn't stand. "By havoc, you're right, Twilight. What do you think our next step should be?"
Her cat slowly shook his head. “I think it's best for you to deduce and decide what must be done, Jess. Not I.”
Jess grimaced but nodded, knowing well how important the Rite of Free Will, as he sometimes put it, was to Twilight, for all that half the time it simply meant that her familiar would gaze at her with fond bemusement while she stumbled around in the metaphoric dark, trying to figure out what exactly it was she was supposed to do.
“Of course. The weight of choice fully upon my shoulders, and if I make the wrong one, it's all on me.”
“Of course.” Her familiar grinned.
Jess's lips came dangerously close to a pout. “Unless it's something you want, in which case you'll leave hints so blatant it's like the rising sun. Funny, how that works out.”
Her familiar chuckled. “Isn't it, though?”
Yet quips aside, Jess's pace quickened, for all that she found the swish of skirts decidedly annoying, and the dumbstruck gazes of more than a few boys who had paid her no mind before was both awkward, and perhaps just a bit delightful as well.
But she was no pretty wallflower to be swooned, swept off her feet, and confined to nursery, grounds, and garden.
And neither were her friends.
Her pace slowed, her eyes sharp, and her breath hitched as she saw yet another watchful servitor who had chosen the oddest place to darn her load of laundry, an unused alcove just in sight of Erica Conveya's quarters.
The servitor locked eyes with Jess and paled.
Jess offered the gentlest of smiles. “Sola. It is good to see you working so arduously, even at this hour. Yet I worry for little Kelly. She had been sick with the chills just last month, no?”
The servant swallowed, giving a slow nod of her head. "That's correct, Lady Calenbry. And it was you standing so dutifully by as Lady Vaila fed my Kelly her tincture." A rueful sigh. "It was your tincture, wasn't it, my lady? I've heard it said that when the Healers Wing needs a potion steeped in wise woman's arts, they ask for your cuttings and no other.”
Jess flushed and looked away, acutely embarrassed, though she couldn't say why. “I just have a way with plants, Sola, and I have no problem spotting the perfect sprout or bloom for healers to channel their own arts into, creating potions that work in ways far more nuanced than simply pouring their energies into ill patients alone.”
Twilight nodded sagely. “The healers here are actually synergizing two different disciplines, one far more ancient that the other, though they know it not.”
Sola flashed Jess the strangest of smiles. “I've always thought it a shame that there are so few wise women in tune with the old ways left in Erovering. My grandmother had the most delightful stories to share. There were different names for them once, long ago.” She chuckled softly. “But not doubt you have your own duties to attend to. Your own friends to care for, and I suddenly find myself far more interested in seeing my daughter to bed than worrying about late night hemming.”
Eyes far wiser than most people gave servants credit for locked upon her own. “Be at peace, Jessica, and watch your step.”
Jess swallowed, forcing her racing heart to calm. “Sola... are you safe?”
Tired eyes squeezed shut. “A servant's life is never without risk, dear Jessica. But you need not worry about me or mine.”
Jess nodded. “If you have need, please let me know. I would see neither you nor yours suffer for the games played by arrogant tyrants in professor's clothing.”
This did earn Jess a rueful chuckle. “I hope it doesn't come to that, Jessica, but if I have need... thank you.”
With a solemn bow, Sola was off, and Jess shuddered, wondering just how deep Putrice's influence extended.
“Deeper than we would like, which tells us something all on its own, no? Still, 'tis wise indeed that you went to the trouble of befriending so many of the keep's servitors since we first attended our little academy here.”
Jess frowned at Twilight's words. "You know as well as I that Lady Vaila courted me to go on rounds since she first found out that I have a feel for plants. And perhaps it makes me feel just a bit better about being a Squire, knowing I work to save lives as well as cut them free."
Her cat chuckled softly. “You do more for this college than most people realize, save for classwork, which you hardly do at all. And whatever the pretense, befriending the pawns upon the board is always a wise strategy.”
Jess's brows furrowed, more troubled than she cared to admit, as she knocked on Erica's door.
“Go away!” Came a muffled voice, exhausted and worn.
"Erica? It's me. Jess."
Some moments passed before a tight whisper could be heard from just the other side of the door. “Jess, it's best you leave. That bitch planted a spy on me!”
Jess nodded, though of course her friend couldn't see it. “It's okay. Sola's decided that there are more important things than late night darning, such as seeing to her child.”
A moment later the door cracked open, eyes puffy with fatigue or tears locking upon Jess's own. Angst aside, Erica's eyes were that of a professional strategist, coldly scanning the hallway and adjoining alcoves before giving a slow, relieved nod. “Well played, Jess. I always admired your knack, the way common folk take to you, even if half the lordlings in the school think you the silliest thing. To hell with them, your strategy is brilliant. Harder for your enemies to catch you in a gambit, if all the pawns on the board owe you favors.”
Jess grimaced. "It isn't that calculated, Jera. I just help Lady Vaila on her rounds."
Erica nodded. "Making tinctures so potent that I've heard your name on the lips of more than one healer. I have no doubt they'll continue to court your friendship and Calenbry stock, even if that damn bitch Putrice manages to get us both kicked out of this school."
Jess shivered. It was just as bad as she had feared. "What happened?"
Erica, normally so sweet and lively, slumped back upon her bed while Jess slowly shut the door. Her pale blond locks were presently dyed black, much like Jess's own. Green eyes normally twinkling with good cheer or flashing with competitive spirit now looked bleak and defeated.
"You know how hard I try to excel in all my classes." Jess nodded. "I had always thought myself esteemed even in Putrice's eyes, earning her nod of approval whenever I correctly answered questions of diplomacy, etiquette, and decorum.” Erica sighed. “Her specialty, Velheim, being our neighbor and the source of so much conflict, I thought perfect for my studies. After all, what culture do we most need to understand but the one we are most likely to go to war with?”
Erica gave a rueful shake of her head. “And here I was, doing my best to master etiquette and strategy to prepare for battles or, perhaps, diplomatic assignments in the years to come, so focused on the future that I was oblivious to the intrigue right before me.”
Jessica's brows furrowed. “What are you going on about, shieldsister?”
Erica sighed, squeezing Jess's hand for comfort, harder than one would think a girl her size could, those who failed to note how strong her friend truly was, slender build cloaking a wiry strength where most girls possessed only softest padding. Not that this had detracted from her admirers, of course, Erica being far more comfortable flirting with boys than was Jess.
"After near everyone had left class, Lady Putrice followed your back with the strangest look, so odd I had thought to comment on it, before she fixated her gaze upon me." Erica shivered. "I had always found her an interesting paradox, but never had I experienced quite such a gaze, leaving me breathless, my heart pounding, my hand reaching for a saber that was not there."
Jess nodded ruefully, knowing exactly what she meant.
“The way she smiled... like someone about to declare themselves the victor and you their rightful prey, to a game you didn't even know was in play!”
Jess squeezed her friend's hand. "It's awful, the way she gazes at you. Reminds me of my mother far more than I care to admit."
Erica grimaced. "Me too. You're not the only one with family that doesn't exactly approve of your vocation, family that would protest most strenuously, did they know truly what we were about to embark upon. And here Putrice was, implying that my mother knew everything, absolutely everything about the monstrous breach in diplomatic protocol General Eloquin was about to commit, even going so far as to declare that I would be expected to testify in Lords Council before the year was out!"
Erica paled and shook. "She even implied that there would be serious consequences for my family if I... engaged in war crimes. Then she said that my mother was coming to claim me in several days time, and that the only hope I had of even staying was to drop Eloquin's classes and start acting like a lady immediately! And only because she favored me was I even being given this opportunity."
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Jess swallowed, speechless. “By all the hells.”
Erica grimaced and nodded. “Now you sound like Malek. But yes. The haunted gaze Neal flashed me when I caught site of him in the hallway made it clear that many of us were being given subtle warnings... and the scary thing is, only some of us take her class! So she can't be the only teacher who knows things that no academic professor should. Things never to be said aloud, let alone used against us!”
Jess swallowed her suddenly parched throat. "And most of us, never even blooded. How does Lady Putrice even know? What business is it of hers?" Jess sighed. "I thought, if anything, slavers were the curse of Erovering. The things Eloquin said, implying that they roamed unchecked in the wilder northern provinces, where we all happen to live, a fair distance from Krona and all the petty intrigues of the capital, farthest from royal patrols as well. But if we didn't have the King's leave, why we were able to freely borrow regimens of royal archers to teach us and train with us?"
Erica shrugged. “I sure as heck wasn't going to expose our training to this viper. You know how moods and sentiments shift like the tide in Court, Jess.”
Jess blinked, knowing no such thing at all.
“In any case, whatever unspoken permissions we are given, no doubt it can be retroactively suspended in a heartbeat.”
Jess flashed the bleakest of smiles. "That could get us killed, Erica. Possessing crossbows is a hanging offense, though being as most of us are noble-born, we might just be exiled to our properties or a miserable diplomatic post instead."
Erica shuddered. "After we watch our common-born friends kicking in the noose, hanged until dead."
Jess squeezed her eyes shut at the thought.
"Do you really think royal sentiment has changed so quickly?"
Erica shrugged. "All I know for sure is that Putrice knows far too much not to be anything but in league with a coterie firmly against students of Highrock being trained as... bloodthirsty treasonous hellions, I believe Putrice put it."
Erica shook her head. "One thing's for certain. Eloquin's prized secret is a secret no more. Somehow Putrice not only knows what we are, what we are training for, but has even arranged a gala on the day we are supposed to leave for our mission! She knows. That bloody bitch knows everything!"
Jess swallowed and nodded. “And that puts us all at risk. Even if we don't all get expelled for our troubles, if our enemy knows we are coming, then we are not ambushing them, so much as walking into a trap. And if a consortium of nobles would make an example of us, actively working to blacken our cause, so as to force the king to dance to their tune... we could well become the swine herded to the slaughter.”
Erica sighed. “And to think, my mother expects to see me at that ball. Jess, what are we going to do?”
Jess gazed intently at her grinning familiar. “I think a council is in order, don't you?”
Twilight nodded. “I will scout ahead, my mistress. Your plan is an excellent one.”
Erica frowned. “Did you say something, Jess?”
Jess nodded. “We are meeting with Neal, shieldsister. We will have our own council of Squires, and decide upon our next move, together.”
Erica tilted her head thoughtfully. “It has merits. At the very least, we can see how many of us are being... pressured, and to what extent our opponent's know, or only suspect. But Jess, the two of us together, at this hour? Even if every servitor who has ever needed a drought or poultice the healers are too busy to give them owes you and Lady Vaila a favor or three, one way or another, word would get out. Especially if we are seen heading to the quarters of fellow Squires!"
Jess grinned. “I don't suppose you still have the dye you used for your hair?”
Erica nodded. "A root and berry mash with a bit of salt and vinegar. It's not as strong a hue as essence of logwood mixed with powdered iron and sulfur would be, but such requires far more skills and expertise than anyone here at Highrock has, especially if applied to the scalp and not just fabric. This mash serves well enough, and I keep it in a wax lined container. Neal is using it as well. It should last as long as we need it to."
Jess smiled. "Plant-based, as opposed to cuttlefish. This is good. So, is there something going on between you and Neal?"
Erica frowned. “I love you like a sister, but frankly, that's none of your business. Just what are you planning, Jess?”
A short time later, her plans were all too clear.
“Are you serious, Jess?”
Jess shrugged, looking at the bed linens she had covered in hair dye, now the dark blue of the deep sea. Perfect for blending into the night, Jess thought.
“The foot loops look stable enough, but how in the world did you manage to get the dye to spread that evenly?”
Jess winked as Erica groaned. "Of course. The dye, plant based. And the linen. Made of plant fibers. Is there anything you can't do with plants?"
“Irrelevant. Now let's make our way to Neal's quarters, and allow our council of battle to begin.”
Erica nodded gamely enough, though she was understandably hesitant to climb down the linen rope, hand and foot knots aside, until Jess had safely made her way down.
“But we can't leave it here, Jess,” Erica admonished a short time later, not at all out of breath despite the exertion of her climb, such was the training both had received. “And we still have to make our way to Neal's quarters.”
But with a single tug, a surprised Erica found herself holding a rope that had managed to coil itself neatly, even as it fell. It was a quiet night, the scent of pine and wildflowers enlivening Jess as they discretely slipped pass the one patrol and pair of servants taking an oddly late walk, as they made their way to Neal's quarters, Jess having picked up the odd piece of branch on their way. By the time Jess had led them to Neal's quarters, it took but a moment for the window to open to several pebbles clacking upon the wooden shutters, opening to reveal the brooding countenance of one of the more handsome lads the school had to offer, Jess thought, pretending she didn't catch the stare he shared with Erica for too long a second before glancing to Jess.
“A council of war,” she whispered, her voice carrying to her friend who nodded but once as Jess threw up the branch she had tied the rope to, Twilight being the first to flow up the rope.
“Quite acceptable, mistress, and Neal's quarters aren't that much cleaner than your own.”
Jess smirked at that, gesturing to Erica who nodded gamely, scurrying up the knotted rope, Jess but an instant behind.
Brilliant a tactician as he was, Neal's room was as messy as any boy's might be; clothes, towels, bedding, and assignments scattered haphazardly about his quarters, though Jess was pleased to see his armaments kept in excellent care, and positioned so as to be donned immediately, should he be called to serve.
Hazel eyes gazed into Jess's own, even as Erica brushed freshly dyed curls from his forehead, her hand quite naturally sliding into his. "Jess? Is everything all right?"
“If by all right do you mean are the Squires being cleverly hemmed in and compromised by one Lady Putrice, instructor of etiquette, decorum, and diplomatic relations, then yes.”
Neal frowned at this. “Explain.”
And as succinctly as she could, Jess did.
"Thank you for that. It fits the few glimpses I've had of the gameboard we only now find ourselves upon. But that still doesn't explain why you're skulking about at night, still wearing a dress, slipping through the gardens."'
Jess crossed her arms. "Because, Neal, Putrice has mastered the board so well that she has not only persuaded professors and parents to her cause, but has been recruiting servitors to her purposes as well.”'
Neal frowned. "This is bad, Jess."
Erica smirked. “Fortunately, too many servitors owe Jess and Lady Vaila favors, since none of them are rich lords able to afford the services of magical healers, and so they dare not neglect the hands that nurture them.”
Jess nodded. "Multiple people keeping an eye on Erica and I both. And it's interesting, is it not, the timing of the gala, our mothers all in arms about us attending said dance, to say nothing of supposed pressures being put into play at Court to defang Highrock entirely and turn our nation's premier war academy into a finishing school."
Neal nodded. "It is. And implying that Eloquin might one day be charged with war crimes...that is most especially interesting, is it not?"
Erica's brows furrowed in thought. “Particularly odd, since Erovering recognizes no international treaty regarding war crimes. Eloquin's tactics, ruthless as they are, is part of what keeps our neighbors on their toes, and us that much safer.”
“Do you think Lady Putrice was bluffing?”
Erica shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, Jess. The bottom line is, what are we going to do? I know that we weren't the only one's targeted. I saw some of the looks exchanged by several other Squires.”
Neal frowned. “It's true. A few of our brothers quietly informed me that they, as much as they fiercely admired our mentor, were having second thoughts about blackening their daggers.”
“Which, in the long run, only serves to benefit slavers and destabilize our nation, if no one does anything to stop them,” Jess said.
Neal sighed and shook his head, passing Erica and Jess both a flask that burned going down.
Jess grinned in approval. “Calenbry Red. A fine year. You have good taste in brandy, brother, but no more than a swallow. We need clear heads for what comes next.”
Neal helped himself to a thoughtful sip, tilting his head for Jess to continue. “I take it you've thought up a plan?”
Jess sighed. "More like I wanted to make sure we were all on the same page, verify our concerns, and yes, seeing as things are as bad as we thought, stress how important it is that we Squires stick together." Jess's eyes flashed. "No matter what, we need to be by Eloquin's side. Because even if Lady Putrice has the best of intentions..."
"We'd hardly be worthy of the mantle Squires of War if we let ourselves be hemmed in, not by superior forces, but by one clever lady who knows how to pull many strings," Neal said.
Jess nodded. “So Erica and I need for you to convey to the boys where we will be, come nightfall tomorrow.”
Erica smiled. “I'll talk to the girls, few that we are, come morning. I suspect Lady Putrice thinks me sufficiently cowed that I will raise little alarm chatting with our sisters-in-arms, whereas Jess doing so would immediately put her on the offensive. The advantage of being the most harmless looking of us all, I suppose.”
Jess flashed a grin. “And I know how well you can handle saber and longsword both.”
Erica's gaze turned serious. “But Jess, it sounds like Putrice really will have you expelled if you do anything to displease her at this point. And while she can make admittedly terrifying intimations that the Council will frown upon our actions, that would take months to enact, if at all. Even if she but plays with smoke and mirrors, using our own worst fears against us, the repercussions you will personally face are significant, Jess.”
Jess grimaced and nodded. “I could find myself trussed and saddled to a horse, headed right to the nearest finishing school, just because I'm a bit misunderstood.”
Neal laughed, instantly holding out his hands at Jess's glare. “Peace, Jess. But even I remember that accountancy course, the way you and Malek carried on that day, and by the gods, how you managed to throw your table out the stained glass window... I knew you were strong, but we all respected your strength after that incident.”
Jess flushed. “Everyone acts like it was me alone that lost my temper, that day.”
Erica nodded. “But, save when he is with you, Malek is perhaps the most brilliant student in our class.”
"I know. His answers I can at least be certain are correct when I copy them."
Neal smiled at that. “I think what Erica is getting at is that even if the rest of us can somehow slip past Putrice's noose, she has you locked in her sites, a score of bolts aimed for your heart.”
Jess paled at that metaphor, knowing that those quarrels, at least, she had no hope of warding.
She swallowed, her throat bone dry. “And if I don't come, what happens to those of us that do?”
Neither Erica nor Neal would meet her gaze.