8.2

Jewel walked upon the friendly dirt of the village road.

Today was the day that the village would be joining in a mock mustering.

In the days prior she had seen the footmen going on horseback to bring news to the rest of the villages to make arrangements for the levy.

To find the sons and fathers that would take up the spear and bow when their lord called.

The riders had returned last night.

Those levies would not be a part of today’s bout.

No, instead every boy and man elderly or young that could hold a spear or draw a bow string would instead be standing in for the final levy.

A day was being taken from their spring labors to make a try at this.

The footmen had spent the morning running drills and trading between each other under Bromthil’s guidance.

In most cases there were five villagers to a footman. Although due to the balance of bows, spears and general availability of villagers, a few of the footmen had to make do with four. Five of the footmen had only three.

Still they had taken it and made the attempt to rally the villagers to the effort all morning.

Correcting footing and angle of spears, warning them what was going to be expected of them with experience.

Bromthil was taking the field today as well, drawing up four whole footmen himself to act as a core of hardened infantry that could move with the mostly levy-populated groups.

All told, it was forty-three footman led groups of villagers arranged in the fallow fields left to waste.

Just shy of two hundred ‘soldiers’.

All against Jewel on her own.

Food had been provided and even watered down wine from Father’s stores were being given to all the villagers that participated.

Promise of further support to all the families of those participating also had reached Jewel from the closed door meeting with the new headman.

The congregations were rather loose compared to the discipline Jewel had come to expect from the Footmen before her bouts.

It gave hints and minor bursts of frivolity and festival air to the assembly despite the glare of Bromthil and the stern barks from the acting captains in the footmen.

Jewel saw many faces she knew among them. There were smiles. Some of them were almost as young as Alexander.

As the sun rose towards noon Father rode out before them and called with a single bellow that echoed in the valley.

“Ho!”

The footmen all stood straighter and the stand-ins for levies among the villagers made an attempt at it.

“Today is the first of a full training bout to aid my daughter the Lady Jewel of Rochford. For in the coming summer she will join me in mustering for war at the command of the Countess Bathory, my liege and for the security of Rochford and Viznove.”

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Among the faces Jewel knew she saw some of the festival joy flee with a stiffening and firming up of expression. Hands held the wooden spears with charred tips harder.

“My footmen have been preparing you all morning. But it’s been a bit and I know the wine is good.”

Which got cheers from most and a few scattered cups of wine raised despite attempts that had been made to get them to put them down.

“So for those in particularly high spirits I will state the rules again. You are to listen to and obey your captains as if their words were mine.”

A nod to one of the footmen and another affirmation from the crowd.

“The goal is to put my Daughter to the utmost limit of her ability. To test her as she would be in battle. Strike her as fast and as surely as if you meant to skewer her. She is a wyrm, her scales did not bend under the goring of the Terror Boar, when she was just a babe she slept in the oven with baking bread. She is not impervious but nothing you could wield will risk harm to her. Strike True.”

That got some laughs and Jewel wanted to flare her wings in embarrassment for Father’s joke at her expense.

“Your spears will leave a mark of charcoal, for her part Jewel’s task is to prevent as many marks on her scales as she can.”

Father narrowed his eyes and fixed a few around him that still had their cups.

“For your part, beyond following orders your task is simple. If any part of my daughter should touch you, fall back, drop your spear, retreat away from battle if you're able.”

Father nodded to his footmen and now they were the ones who were laughing a bit darkly. A few of the villagers noticed the shift in the air and turned worriedly to their superiors.

“If you find yourself in a blinding white fog and hear a clap of thunder all around then you should consider yourself likewise to be finished for this bout.”

That brought alarmed eyes and glances to Jewel. Almost everyone here had seen Jewel’s flame perform all manner of terrible destruction.

“This is a bout and a test for my daughter and for you my footmen and those of you amongst them that will be answering the call as levies this year. It is a friendly one and my daughter is a kind gentle soul. You have nothing to fear.”

Then his tone went grim and his eyes distant, the smell of long lingering fear rose ever so stronger than had become distressingly usual.

“But do not think to cheat her, if this was war her blows would shatter you. And her breath would be a mercifully instant death”

He gave them all a stern look and then cracked a wide smile.

“So let us have a fun bout, anyone left standing and untouched after each round against my Daughter will join my family in a feast for tonight’s supper. Good Luck.”

Jewel shook out her coils and pulled herself back as she had learned best suited battle against superior numbers. Bunching her coils up so as few of them could stab her with spears or rain arrows down upon her.

The rules on Jewel were still strict, she still could not simply leap into the air to escape, even though in a real battle that is what she almost always was supposed to do.

An approximation of her Wyrmflame had been approved. It did naught but blind, deafen and amusingly set every hair on one’s person to stand on end and spark with the most adorable lightning when they touched others.

But it took about as long to muster as her regular flame and did not destroy those caught in the midst of it. Father had her train with it for days before he approved its use in bouts with the Footmen.

Jewel braced herself and waited.

Letting the Footmen organize and array their force of villagers with spears and arrows as they saw fit.

Nearly two hundred friends and acquaintances rallied together against Jewel.

She braced herself to do all she could and hoped they would not fear her after this.

Father’s voice bellowed again, just as clear and sharp and strong as he had to get their attention.

“Begin!”

And on her Father’s word Jewel danced into battle.