5.6
There would not in fact be an evening flight every day they were traveling. For one, there was only so much hunting worth doing along their route in Debt's Season (or Pea Harvest, if you were a peasant).
For two, there were some concerns about being accused of poaching as they traversed through lands not actually within Father’s domain.
The lands immediately under the command of Countess Bathory would take the majority of their remaining four and some days' travel. As Father’s Liege it was only proper that she commanded more land. Though Jewel was still learning the full extent of the territories directly sworn to her or her Knights.
There were supposed to be two Gryphon Riders among them, Jewel did not know their names. Unlike the GryphonLords, which were entrusted with full barony and the management and care of such, Bathory’s two knights only each had the right to the immediate lands of a manor to cover the cost of their beasts and provision them with necessary armaments.
Which would have made any hunting Father and Jewel did by air imminently obvious, but neither of those manors were on their route, positioned even further south than Kaeketeh, where they could guard the border of not just Viznove but also the Realm itself.
Still, it would have been a dishonor and an insult by Father to the Countess to be seen taking from her forests.
So the flights would henceforth mostly be brief circuits to exercise Zephyrvam and confirm that the roads were indeed leading their party in the correct direction.
Their next destination along the road was expected to be a Temple settlement set comfortably along one of the many curling valleys which cut between the shorter peaks of the Ridgetail mountains.
But until then they marched through the heavy wooded lands of a deep forest.
It cut the light to a dim shade for all but the height of noon, and now that the year was turning towards fall on this day’s march, the sudden warmth spilling over the road was most welcome by more than just Jewel.
Smithson even managed to actually laugh a bit and there were a lot more smiles among the footmen and even a few happy whinnies from the horse.
Jewel never understood how much sun or shade was too much. Yesterday she had guessed it was nice to have some shade and cool instead of warmth and sun but now they were glad for it? She had never quite gotten the point before.
She enjoyed a hot bath.
But she enjoyed a cool tumble through heavy snow as well.
Temperatures just were.
She could see how it upset and discomforted some, she had seen the bodies of those peasants that had not had sufficient fuel for hearths in winter.
It was obvious that for other people, the heat or the cold was a serious matter.
Jewel however did not know really what that was like.
She found it best in the way that some books spoke of it. In the words used, it helped her imagine what it must feel like.
That winter had teeth which could bite and kill.
That the mountain winds, like the vampire that Zephyrvam was named after, came down in winter from the ridgetail peaks drained away the life of one’s body.
The same way she had felt when choking for breath under the Boar.
Jewel imagined cold was something like that for men.
But that only worked for winter.
The idea of the baking sun, the burning heat, the sweltering summer?
She had snuck into a lit oven when she was both young enough to not know better and small enough to fit and found the entire experience wonderful!
She had not found a heat they could bring water to that was not a delight upon her scales, throat or lungs.
The only manner in which she burned was the wonderful feel of her Wyrmfire within.
And there was no abrasion yet strong enough to harm her scales.
Jewel simply had found no way to consider how burning that hurt would feel.
She filled the time on the road they walked with such thoughts. Speaking to no one and listening less. When they stopped for another meal (and to rest the horses) she was so consumed by it she turned to Smithson and without even considering found herself asking what she had always held back speaking her whole life.
He was supposedly her servant after all.
“Squire, a question for you.”
He didn't jump this time and was less red around the ears. Even when he held the parcel for her noon ration. Jewel was not sure what that was about but glad he didn't actually seem to hold any grudge or ill will for her.
“Yes, Lady Jewel?”
Finishing her meal with a single smooth swallow and a gently polite belch, she fixed her gaze upon his face.
“Have you ever been burned?”
That caught him off guard although he wasn't doing the ear thing at least. Just seemed confused.
“Burned, lady?”
Jewel gave him a nod while they drank, Jewel from her tankard of small beer and him from a water skin.
“Yes, like on a candle or stove or something, whatever it is people burn themselves on.”
He mouthed out what she just said before blinking a few times back at her.
“Well, I suppose a bit. Why do you ask?”
Jewel considered him then looked around at the rest of the footmen where Father was striding amongst them with Kraok and Bromthil.
“I’ve never been burned before. Not in any way that hurts. And none of the books explain it very well to me. I was wondering if you might help me understand.”
Smithson gaped at her and blinked in a passable imitation of the Bog Wizard.
Wetly audible pops and all.
“I well, Lady Jewel. It's kind of a... well a bur-”
She glared but before she could even part her lips to speak he was rushing past his mistake.
“S-sharp! It starts as a kind of sharp feeling. When you first touch it, a... well with a smaller candle it can be a bit like the feeling after a really hard pinch. And then it just... lingers... for hours sometimes after, the worst I ever had was a day.”
Jewel gawked herself a bit at that and tried to think of the last time something had pinched her hard enough to actually hurt.
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It had been when she was quite small and definitely did sting terribly.
Her expression pulled back in shock and then with a quick glance over the rest of the footmen.
“Truly, Squire? You do not jape with me? That is how it feels to burn?”
And Smithson nodded while chewing around his ration bread.
Truly?!
And they said the summer sun could be burning?!
Goodness no wonder the footmen were so happy to get some shade yesterday! If the heat had been like an oppressive pinching ache all day!
She left her squire to enjoy his convalescence from the ordeal of their journey and meander amongst the rest of the travelers with a new appreciation for their mettle and vigor.
Every one of them endured this? Every hot day?
And with the way that cold could bite and sap life as well?
The poor men!
Another realization struck Jewel as they packed up from the break and resumed the trot.
Was this why everyone wore so many clothes?
When the sun and air and wind could bite and pinch from one season to the next? Leave you aching at all hours if not defended against and smothered at all times?!
Jewel had understood that they did it to be proper and that armor was for defense in battle or hunting.
But to need to be armored at all times from the simple joys of the world?!
So distracted by the ramifications and reframing of all she had ever seen in her life with this epiphany, Jewel found herself bounding along deep in thought close to the head of the procession.
Then Father’s voice cut through the fog of perplexed dismay and horror at all the trials besetting everyone around her at all times.
“I haven’t seen you so distraught about something since your first wheat harvest. What troubles you, Daughter?”
Which was enough of a shock that she just blurted out her thoughts.
“Everyone is so much braver than I thought!”
Which caught the attention of a few of the riders closest to them, Jewel could see and hear them shifting to listen and look.
But like a proper Lady, she did not deign to show she noticed.
Father considered her before nodding and scritching Zephyrvam along his neck. Careful to work between the feathers gently and always go with the grain.
“A noble and wise thing to realize, yes, but in what way are we brave, dear daughter?”
Which just was too much for Jewel and the words just poured out of her of how she was so sorry for never realizing how hard the Sun and the Cold and the Winter and so many other things that happened were for him and Mother and everyone. How she had never understood before how important it was to have things be just right and that she was sorry for the time she left all the windows open one winter night so she could play in the snow indoors.
She tried to stop but she found she couldn't by the time it all started and watched with growing terror as her own mouth kept just saying so many horrible things she had done!
Father was going to be so upset with her!
By the time she finally managed to get herself to stop spilling every single wrong and awful inconsiderate thing she had ever said or done regarding the terrible trial everyone faced with both heat and cold Jewel could not make herself meet Father’s undoubtedly unapproving gaze and stern anger.
But instead his voice was gentle, jovial even.
“Well, I can’t say I ever thought of that as being particularly brave of me or anyone. But I think I’m going to have to repeat myself to my dear daughter. That is a very wise thought you’ve been brooding on.”
She looked up at him with her eyes shining with the threat of tears.
“W-what? B-but I didn't understand before and was so terrible to everyone, thinking it so frivolous.”
He laughed and looked around at the rest of the party, raising his voice to the deep carrying tone meant for armies and parades.
“You all heard that I’m sure. So terribly brave we are to risk the burn of warm autumn sun and the bite of the winter yeah?”
His tone said it was a joke and several chuckled along with him. In a way that did not make any sense to Jewel.
“But she’s right.”
All frivolity left his voice. It was a stern and somber thing now.
No one laughed at that. Those that had been chuckling coughed in surprise and confusion.
“She’s right that the hot sun can slay just as certainly as a blade in the gut. Maybe not as swiftly, but with far more cruelty.”
He raised a canteen for all to see and drank deeply from it.
“Lack of water will slay a man and sap his strength and leave him scarce able to even raise arms in his own defense.”
He continued on nodding to their pack horses, slapping his own far lighter bags on Zephyrvam’s sides.
“Lack of food and supply will slay armies and countries.”
He met each of their gazes tilting in his saddle in a way that would have been awkward if his steed did not subtly shift into a strafe to facilitate it, moving smoothly at a horse’s pace sideways as easily as forward.
“Winter will happily gnaw on any man’s bones. Its teeth are cold and its ice cuts harsher than knives and arrows.”
He turned back around to face their road but his voice still carried.
“My Daughter is right, the cold and the heat are terrible dangers and we face and weather them every day. It is bravery to face them. But that is only if you look and see the danger and not march through it blind.”
Jewel could hear the men shifting and riding straighter and at more attention, with more care and pride.
“She is a Dragon, a Wyrm. She can stand untouched in the maw of winter and laugh at the ice. She can sleep blissfully in the heat of a kiln. She does not need to be brave to face these things.”
He glanced over his shoulder and spoke far quieter than he had but his voice still carried all the way down the march of their party.
“But you men cannot. Face every danger head forward and eyes open. The Countess Bathory of Viznove has called us to muster in the ill season for war.”
That seemed to catch in the heads of a few, even though father was not looking, Jewel was. Some faces were coming to a realization of what he meant by that.
“Though we are called only to show our mettle and arms, it is still a call for war’s price. We will muster, we will show the might of Rochford for this muster and we will return home safe.”
He raised his hand up high and bellowed to the road ahead of them.
“But do not forget what dangers you face every day. Do not forget what my Daughter has seen in you.”
And he finished with a final bellow fit for the finest field of battle.
“You are brave!”
Which got a cheer from the entire accompanying party and made Jewel feel her Wyrmfire thrumming brightly all throughout herself for another solid hour of evening trot.
But eventually the excitement mellowed down and a bit of time after they were exiting the wood in the brown and orange light of sunset to a cleared land of meadows, fields, a few small buildings and a solid stone structure set a bit away from them.
It was far smaller than Fort Rochford, but otherwise a greater building Jewel had never seen. It was even larger than the village temple!
Already at its main door, the Rochford banner hung alongside what she presumed was the local coat of arms. Signaling that the harbinger who had ridden ahead had made arrangements for their stay.