“Ooh, how delicious. Our dear commander is finally showing a bit of heat. It appears he did not like how the Knight Commander was manhandling his injured student. Hmm… seems the healers are also worried about possible paralysis, necessitating that Erica be treated with greatest care.” Twilight's smile was positively smug. “Oh yes, our dear Eloquin is most displeased.”
“Jess?” Malek looked both impatient and frustrated.
Jess grimaced. “Twilight says Eloquin is mad as hell that Lord Hyve is taking sides when he should be dispassionately uninvolved, and that he was violating any number of oaths regarding student safety and well-being, so roughly treating a gravely injured student.” Jess gazed at her shoulder, nodded, then turned back to Malek. “Twilight says Lord Hyve is insisting the match be declared a draw.”
Malek seethed. “That’s bloody insane! Mord was in clear violation of every damn code of conduct that binds us students! He didn’t even give her a chance to yield and show she had no flag. He was basically trying to kill her!”
Jess grinned darkly. “If he was actually trying to kill her, if we know that, then Twilight says we are no longer bound to our oaths, and are free to act.”
The pair exchanged a fierce look before Malek grimaced. “But we don’t know that. We don’t know he wasn’t just being an overzealous idiot.”
Jess shook her head, sighing bitterly. “No, we don’t.” Her gaze was drawn to Neal, even then approaching the two opposing instructors and the overseer between them, holding up not one flag, but two.
“Do you think the idiots get it now?” Malek wondered. “Erica was never the captain. That was a ruse. She was serving as Neal’s mouthpiece. He hand-flashed the orders, she shouted them aloud for anyone who couldn’t see Neal.”
“Bloody hells!” Jess said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Twilight says Lord Hyve is actually crying foul, that Erica has to be judged as the captain, since she was the one shouting the orders aloud.”
“What a farce." Malek gazed at Lord Hyve with contempt. "We both know damn well that Neal took a serious risk, charging ahead with his own squadron in order to capture their captain. If they had bested him, they would have won by default, and you know Lord Hyve would not have argued that victory. Besides, every order Erica shouted she had faithfully gotten from Neal, so no one could argue we had two captains. Lord Hyve just wants to muddy the waters because his favorite student nearly killed one of ours, and by rights should be expelled."
Jess nodded. “He’s also furious as hell that his forces keep losing to our own, and all his vaunted ideals of knighthood and virtue aside, he’s hungry for the opportunity to rub our faces in the dirt.”
Malek gave a contemptuous shake of his head. “And to think, once we wanted to be Aspirants training under him.”
Jess flashed a mirthless smile of her own. “Foolish, I suppose, not to make a study of the man hiding beneath the grandeur of his titles, before pushing ourselves so hard to catch his regard.”
Malek shrugged. “We were new-bloods, Jess. We didn’t even know what questions to ask, let alone how to fish out the truth of a man behind the rumors.” Malek grimaced. “Besides, all we knew before was that the man was a bit pompous. We didn’t know he’d stoop so low as to manhandle a fallen student, all for the sake of a contest everyone knows he lost.”
Jess gazed at the mixed crowd of spectators. She saw more than a few angry glares of outrage, though from the arguments breaking out, who and what they were angry at was not so clear-cut. “I’m guessing some of our visiting nobles had more than friendly wagers at stake. Some of those men, no doubt, would love to have an excuse to disqualify Neal’s team.”
Malek cursed. “I bloody hate politics. Come on Jess, it looks like the healers finally shoved obnoxious Lord Hyve away.” He flashed a grim smile. “It looks like good Sir Jevons isn’t above shouting at men supposedly above his station, if it's for the good of his patients.”
Jess nodded. “We can’t do any good here. Let’s go to the Healers Wing where they are taking Erica.
Malek nodded grimly, casting a last baleful glance at a now helmetless Mord, clearly smirking even from the distance as he stood to the left of the commanders and overseer, Eloquin’s cool tone serving as an odd counterpoint to Lord Hyve’s shouting. “Let’s go, shieldsister. If I have to stay here even a moment longer, I swear I’ll go down there and pummel that bastard’s smarmy face, forgotten oath or no.”
Jess nodded, stumbling only slightly on her throbbing hip, Malek smoothly pivoting to catch her weight with a warrior’s grace, and together they headed to the Healers Wing, anxious to check in on their friend.
7
The door to the Healers Wing opened at Jessica’s knock to reveal the harried face of one of the apprentice healers, breaking into a warm smile of familiarity as he recognized Jess, even as it slipped to one of grave concern.
“Oh my, Jess. Are you all right?”
“Yes, Philin," Jess hastily assured, even as she winced, her hip throbbing more than ever after the arduous climb up the stairs. Not for the first time she wondered if it was really ideal for the healer's wing to be above the first floor, for all that Sir Jevons swore that the fresh breeze and thrushes and lack of dampness were all essential for dispelling foul humors and aiding the recovery of the sick and injured.
Shaking her fatigued head free of distraction, she smiled disarmingly at the young apprentice. “Please don’t worry about me. Sir Jevons has already tended to me, and unfortunately, my body is not as receptive to healing as some. He treated my injuries to make sure no foulness festers, and his hope is that my Delver’s vitality will help me mend faster than I otherwise would.”
Young Philin bobbed his head in relief. “For the best, really. To be honest, the healers have their hands full just trying to mend poor Erica.”
Jess hissed, feeling her heart start to race.
“How bad is it?” She could barely get the words out, suddenly deathly afraid of the answer.
Philin’s grave look did nothing to reassure her.
“Not good I’m afraid, Jess. She got pounded but good on helmet and spine.” He shook his head. “You Squires wear fantastic protection, second only only to what a named lord or royal guard might wear, but she was hit with a lot of concussive force. If I didn't know better, I’d say she was struck by a war hammer or polearm. Master Jevons had to have help getting the helm off, it was practically hammered into her skull, and her body’s own humors are pooling unnaturally there. The healers are trying to restore balance and relieve the pressure, even as we speak.” He gave a sad shake of his head.
“Her head injury is quite beyond me, I am not ashamed to admit, and that is just our most immediate concern; her arms are broken, her pelvis is shattered, and I fear her spine has suffered serious damage as well.”
Jess squeezed her eyes shut. "Can we see her?"
The gentle pity in his eyes belied the sting of his sad refusal. "I am sorry, Jess. But I am afraid I cannot allow that, even for you. I am not sure how much you know about the healing arts, but the best environment for a healer to work in is with absolute quiet, free of onlookers or anyone else who may carry the taint of illness, all unknowing. Even Master Jevons has donned freshly steamed garments, hands scrubbed with proper soap made from lye and tallow. For it's the only way to prevent the spread of foul poisons that hide from naked eyes, and spread from dirty clothes and skin to injured flesh like ink from a quill to parchment."
Jess nodded, well versed in the importance of cleanliness, both from her time studying herbal lore, as well as listening to her father recount the battlefield stories of his younger days. One lesson that had lodged in her memory was in learning that far more people would die of illness and suppurating wounds during campaign than would be lost during actual battles, if no thought was given to sanitation or proper wound care.
“Very well, Philin. I understand.” Jess smiled sadly. “Is there anything at all I can do? Any healing herbs or cuttings mas
ter Jevons needs for his work?”
Philin shook his head. “No worries, dear Lady Jessica. Lady Vaila has herself brought down exactly the cuttings master Jevons needed, almost as if she could read his mind. Please, get some rest, Jess. If young Erica can be saved, rest assured, our healers will save her. They are among the best in the kingdom, after all. And you will be no good to anyone if you do yourself injury, collapsing on your feet.”
Jess smiled at the apprentice’s reassurance. “Very well, then. Please give my warmest regards to Sir Jevons. And if Erica should wake, please tell her that she is in our thoughts and our hearts.”
Jess could feel Philin’s gentle gaze upon her even after he had nodded solemn farewell, Jess and Malek trudging back the way they had come.
“Come on, Jess. It looks like there is nothing further we can do today. Let’s get you to your rooms so you can take your rest,” Malek soothed. “I’ll bring you some food up later, all right shieldsister?”
Jess nodded, blinking back tears, her mind filled with bittersweet reminiscence, images of Erica laughing good-naturedly even after Jess mercilessly trounced her in match after match back during their first year. Yet Erica had never once become discouraged, her bright cheerful smile warming Jess's heart to see, and Jess had quickly taken Erica under her wing for all that they were the same age, enjoying playing the instructor, teaching her companion the finer aspects of swordplay, even earning an approving nod from master Eloquin a time or two.
And how Erica and cheered with delight the first time she had bested a boy bigger than herself; how she, Jess, and Malek had snuck off for some celebratory mead, gotten perhaps just a bit too silly, all waking up in a stupor some hours later, with throbbing heads but happy hearts. Fast friends the three had been, and it was only because Erica was quite content with her life as it was that Jess and Malek hadn't invited her to join their little coven of dreamers.
For though Erica had fought fiercely to achieve her mark as a tactician, having joined Eloquin's group of elite commanders in training simply because she had found the whole venture too exciting to pass up, Jess understood by the second year that something had changed. As much as Erica had wanted to prove herself, Jess sensed that just in achieving the rank of Commander, successfully graduating as a recognized Squire of War, Erica would be at peace with herself, her family rifts long since mended. And wonder of wonders, she seemed genuinely infatuated with the man her mother had arranged for her to meet, himself a recent graduate and one time Squire, who understood the rigors of their training, the horrors experienced and revels embraced like no one else could. Jess had no doubt that had the grand melee gone differently, Erica would right now be in her lover's arms, the two planning their future together, once Erica had graduated from Highrock. For in the gentlest of ironies, she was now content to live the life her mother had always wanted for her, in the end realizing it was a dream she cherished as well.
Her brilliant smile and gentle gaze haunted Jessica even as her shieldbrother hung up her mithril hauberk before gently putting her to bed, quietly shutting her door behind him, promising he would keep vigil, and alert Jess as soon as Erica had awakened.
She gave him one sad smile of acknowledgment before Malek made his exit, Jess near instantly slipping into a gentle, healing sleep the moment the door closed.
She dreamed odd dreams then, lucid and strange.
She found herself hovering silently over a wan looking Erica, detecting only the faintest of breaths, heart aching for memory of the lively young woman who had so filled their training sessions with freckles and laughter. Twinkling eyes that had won over the heart of the young man even at that very moment hovering over his betrothed, sobbing unabashedly as Sir Jevons gravely informed him of the news.
Poor Brynjar. Jess remembered the first time she had met the oddly shy young man, his gentle smile belying his powerful build, having gamely accepted a practice match with Jessica; Erica and Malek cheering Jess on. It came as no surprise when Jess beat the young man, despite his bulk and obvious familiarity with the longsword. What did come as a surprise was how close their match had been, and how good-natured he had been about the whole thing, confessing that he himself had trained as a Squire, which Jess had immediately warmed to, but not nearly so much as Erica had.
It did not even matter that the young man had visited on the behests of Erica's clan, bringing her gifts as a pretext for their meeting, nor that he favored logistics over melee, and seemed to have lost the hot fire that kindled so many Squire's souls. By the end of the evening, that visiting young noble was enjoying a moonlit walk with Erica all but glued to his side, the two sharing reminiscence and laughter, as if they had known each other for a lifetime.
“It looks like Erica finally beat you at something, Jess,” Malek had teased, at which point Jess, always an epitome of grace and maturity, had smacked his brow and stuck out her tongue, challenging a laughing Malek to an impromptu bout, Erica and Brynjar both cheering Malek on before the four had retired for supper together, all alight with the warmth of friendship, Erica and her admirer feeling something far deeper, even then.
It had come as no surprise when a normally ebullient Erica had been positively bouncing on her feet a few weeks hence, and even Eloquin had cracked a smile after he had wryly asked why his student was bouncing when she should be listening, at which point she had cheerfully declared that she was betrothed, earning her congratulations and the day off, their armsmaster declaring she might as well enjoy the news, as she was absolutely worthless for training that day.
Jess remembered celebrating well into the night with Erica and Malek, their other friends Jera and Alex joining in the celebration, Raphael and Josie also giving toast, the latter giving Erica all sorts of sage bits of advice that left her in turns laughing and blushing so fiercely Jess and her companions started laughing as well.
And to see that beautiful girl, so full of joy and excitement, living life with such passion and zeal, now hovering at death's door, with her beau sobbing his heart out over her still form, broke Jessica's heart.
She felt a gentle weight on her shoulder at that moment, her familiar’s brilliant gaze meeting her own.
“You aren’t supposed to be here, you know.”
Jess flashed a sad smile. “But I am, Midnight. I am. And Erica is one of my flock.” She sighed bitterly. “It breaks my heart to see the sweet promise of her life turned to such a bitter end.”
Her familiar gave a curious tilt of his head. “You are awake then, I see.”
“Perhaps, dear one. Though just as likely I am dreaming. Poor master Jevons and young Brynjar are hardly aware of anything save gentle fallen Erica. Certainly they have no sense of us, gazing silently on.”
Midnight nodded. “And lest they are at death’s door themselves, they will not.”
Jessica silently nodded even as Erica’s brilliant fae eyes opened, her gaze immediately locking onto her friend.
“I see you, Jezabelle.”
Jess smiled, gazing at the young girl, even as they both sat in a sacred tree, in the heart of a grove as old as time, the laughter of children lost in endless play a gentle counterpoint to the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle spring breeze.
“And I see you, Erica.” The young girl once known as Jezabelle smiled, kissing her friend on the cheek. She gave a gentle squeeze of Erica’s hand, even as they both gazed down at the boys and girls dashing about in the forest below.
“Soon it will be the time for songs. Where we all share our adventures.” Erica sighed softly. “I had hoped my story would be longer.”
Her companion nodded. “And once you are invited to share your tale, your story will have a beginning and an end.” She flashed Erica a confidential smile. “But you have a boy who loves you, Erica. And perhaps there is a way for you to see him again, before your song is done.”
Erica blinked and flushed, and suddenly she looked far closer to eighteen than eight. “Oh yes, by the gods I do, Jess. But, well, I didn’t
think such was allowed, once we return to the garden.”
Jess laughed, giving a mischievous wink, still looking no more than a girl of twelve. "Ah, but you have not returned fully. You merely dance in the shadows between life and death, dear Erica. And for all you know, this is but a dream you will forget upon waking. Your song doesn't have to be over quite yet. I would love to hear it in all its beauty and wonder, one day." Jess sighed, her expression turning suddenly solemn. "You do know there is a cost, though."
Erica's warm smile suddenly turned still, haunted eyes gazing pleadingly into Jess's own. "I don't know if I could bear it."
Jess smiled gently, without judgment. “It is up to you, dear Erica. But if you would sing your song with Brynjar, if you would one day hold little ones of your own to your breast, to love and nurture with all your heart, before returning to the garden yourself one day, you will have to face that fear.”
Erica shuddered, her gaze filled with tears. “Those were terrible times, Jess.”
Her friend gently leaned up to kiss a shaking Erica's cheek. "I know, beloved one. And the garden will be here to ease away the nightmares that will haunt you, when it is time for you to come back once more. It is up to you, dearest Erica. You need but say the word, and our conversation will fade like a dream, and you can join our friends below."
Sobbing, Erica bit her lip, shaking her head in fierce negation. “No, dearest Jezabelle. If you would love me so much as to grant me another chance to be with my betrothed, to sing a song of life and laughter rich and full, I will face with all my courage the nightmares to come.”
Jess gave a solemn nod, even as she gently grasped Erica’s shaking hand, her familiar once again upon her shoulder.
“To the Tree then, mistress?”
Jess nodded once. “Yes, Midnight. To the Tree we go.”
And even as the young Jess gently led Erica to the very heart of that wondrous grove surrounded by an endless sea of wildflowers and children at play, Jess found herself before the door leading to the rooftop garden of Highrock, the exquisite carving of oak upon its surface seeming to unfurl its branches fully, dark green leaves blowing in an unseen breeze, even as the hardwood began to shine with the light of the moon.
Shadow Knight Page 17
