His mocking smile turned to a snarl. “I did not give you fools permission to plot and connive without my leave, and I never gave you authorization to strike at that which is mine!” A furious boot slammed into any number of whimpering young men, and Jess took a deep breath, ready to shout Mord down, even though he was striking at Knight Aspirants who were guilty of planning grievous bodily harm at the least, perhaps even murder.
Surprisingly, she felt her familiar’s paw gently press against her lips. “Say nothing, Jess. By your love for Erica alone he still walks the hallways a living man. For if he is so foolish as to permanently maim or kill any student of Highrock, even our enemies, he is guilty of breaking his word, and then you may strike!”
Jess felt a delicious shiver of anticipation, even as part of her quailed at such a ruthless move. Yet another part of her delighted in it. These were her enemies, after all.
And as quick as that, Mord snapped his head back, gazing at Jess with coal-dark eyes that peered all too knowingly into her own, lips curling in darkest amusement. Jess shuddered, feeling a sudden frisson of attraction. Mord, vile monster that he was, wreaked of power and competence, his saturnine features appealing to her in the same way a pristine killing blade fascinated her. She felt her lip curl in a snarl, humiliated by the flush of unexpected desire she felt for her enemy.
“Don’t worry, my dear filly,” Mord mocked. “I won’t cause them any more permanent harm than you already have.” He gave them a piteous shake of his head. “Damn fools. Whatever possessed you to take on my beau? Did you truly think you were a match for her?”
It was then that his gaze caught sight of the chunks of sharpened granite upon the stone tiles. His low guttural growl caused several of the youths to shake and sob, even as he coldly unsheathed his fine steel sword.
"Mord!" Erno hissed, bringing him back to his senses, even as Erno gazed meaningfully at a cold-eyed Jess.
“You fools would dare to destroy my prize?” Mord’s icy voice promised a vile death, the Knight Aspirants before him no longer hiding the terror they felt before this raging berserker who had come so close to winning the tournament for them, and nearly killing two students, as more than a few had witnessed firsthand.
“Lord Plaga, I don’t know what came over me!” One of the boys pled, gazing almost stupidly at the stone Mord kicked into his side, not even trying to deflect the blow. “We just knew to be here, and, well, that damn wench has never respected us, the true heirs of Highrock! We just wanted to put her and her pathetic companion in their places!”
Jess blinked then, gazing oh so carefully at the young man, surprised at the sincerity she heard in his voice. “Tell me you didn’t plan on killing me.”
Jess’s voice rang out, cold and firm. “All of you. Look into my eyes and tell me that.”
And she saw it then, within their startled, terrified gazes. They meant every word they said. No deception. Malice was now replaced with terror. To beat and humiliate her, yes. That they had intended. But that passion had grown all out of proportion with what they had felt originally, and the stones? It was blurry, they insisted. Like fragments of a dream.
Jess snarled, seeing the faint traces of crimson at last.
Magics had been in play. Faint, very faint. Yet abyssal, nonetheless.
Twilight began to laugh softly. “I do believe someone has crossed the line.”
Vaki, Jess was amused to note, was gazing at her with undisguised hatred in an unguarded moment, looking momentarily nonplussed and stepping back when he realized Jess was staring right back, flashing a mad little smile of her own.
“What’s say we revoke all oaths and fight, here and now, Vaki? The air shivers with how much you hate me, you vile little worm.”
Mord laughed. Vaki blinked and stepped back, shaking his head with a snarl. Jess wondered how close he had been to actually taking her up on that offer.
“She has naught but clubs,” Vaki coolly noted.
“Think of where we are, you damn moron," Erno hissed, smacking his companion's head.
Mord’s bleakly amused gaze caught her own. Jess felt her breath catch in her throat. She promised herself it was anger she felt, and nothing more. “So, my dear Jess. Do you sense the malice underneath their words? Do they deceive us? I will trust your judgment in the matter. Well do I know of your…uncanny, near infernal skills in that area.” Mord grinned all too knowingly, and Jess found herself desperately wanting to hit him. Or kiss him, and then hit him. Hard.
Jess shuddered, hating her own treacherous nature. Why couldn’t Mord be a bloated mass of quivering flesh like Vaki?
“They don’t lie. They were compelled.” Calmly she said it. There. It was out there. Her mind raced, wondering how he had known. How had he known about her ability to sense deception through malice? How much had she admitted to when the bards had interviewed her, all those weeks ago? Surely not that much, had she?
Mord’s bemused demeanor immediately became icy. Focused. He gazed coldly at Vaki, who immediately shook his head, gazing upon Mord in terror.
“No, Mord, it wasn’t me,” Vaki softly insisted.
“Would you really risk all on something so damn foolish?” Mord hissed, clenching his fists as he approached.
Desperately Vaki gazed at Jess, his hate-filled toadlike features of but a moment before now almost pleading. “I didn’t have anything to do with it, I swear!”
Mord turned his gaze once more to Jess, mercurial features sliding from icy wrath to wry bemusement so effortlessly it was chilling. “Well, Jess? Has our dear friend here blundered?”
Jess gazed at Mord, refusing to say a word. His features relaxed, and Jess realized how tightly he had been holding his blade. He chuckled softly then, looking completely in control. “No. Of course not. I know you, dearest Jess. Had our little Vaki crossed the line, the corridors would already run red with his blood and brains.”
Vaki shuddered at the words. “Mord!”
Mord smirked. “Come now, Vaki. We all know your skills, but you’ve seen her fight. Do you really think you could take her on, head to head? Alone?”
“She’s not so powerful, here, as all that. No blood covered blade, no element of surprise. She’d do well not to underestimate me!” The squat Vaki gazed coolly at Jess, looking as imposing as he ever had.
And Jess couldn't help bursting into laughter. Bloated, cowardly Vaki trying to look intimidating was like putting a pig in a dress, she thought. The height of absurdity, and hard not to laugh. Yet even then she felt a cold chill of alarm snake through her gut when the full meaning of his words struck her. His and Mord's both. They spoke as if they had crossed blades with her before.
“Take those damn fools to the infirmary. Now, Vaki! Jess is not your concern,” Mord coldly ordered, glancing at his fellow Knight Aspirants moaning and cursing with their injuries, before catching Jess’s gaze once more. “I’ll see to things here.”
“Back off, Mord,” Malek growled as the young man approached, his appraising gaze leaving Jess feeling oddly vulnerable, as if she was naught but a slab of beef being judged barely acceptable.
Mord turned to Jess’s shieldbrother “Or what?” A pause. The uncomfortable silence stretching out even as Vaki and Erno led the injured Aspirants down the back stairway, making their slow painful way to the Healers Wing. “That’s what I thought,” Mord gloated. “You’ll do nothing.”
He then turned to Jess, gently stroking her cheek with one soft gloved finger, smiling slightly when Jess snarled and pulled away.
“I think, my dear Jessica, that we should come to… an understanding.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Twilight coolly informed Jess. “We need to get to Rens's laboratory. The sooner, the better.”
“Don’t touch me, Mord!” Jess shouted, earning a raised eyebrow and a condescending smile.
“Or what? If you will recall, which of course you don’t, your oath specifically precludes your causing me any harm at all. Whereas so long a
s I do not maim or kill you or your friends, and forebear from performing certain acts upon your college or family estates, I am pretty much free to do as I please.”
His grin widened. “Caressing the cheek of my future wife is so very mild, when you think of all the things I could do, dearest Jess.”
“Still your fist.” Twilight’s cold tone cut through the growing haze of red fury Jess felt herself slipping so deliciously into. It was a supreme act of will to ease her shaking fist, so tightly was it clenched, earning a mocking chuckle from Mord.
“I do admire how fierce your temperament is, my filly. And quite frankly, I'm impressed by your remarkable restraint. To be honest, I'm surprise you endured your punishment quite so well on the field of battle, for all that it would have been better had you submitted your will to mine.”
“Bloody hells, Mord!” Jess shouted. “You are a mad sadist, nothing more! You speak of keeping faith to this mysterious bloody oath you swear we are both bound to? What about poor Erica? She has fought beside you countless times under Eloquin's banner. A battle sister who would have rushed to your aid, and you repay her by near killing her! The door to the next world was open to her, Mord. You have no idea how close you had come to leaving her crippled, how quickly she would have succumbed to death. And where would your oath be then, you damn bastard?”
Jess blinked, surprised to hear the words escape her lips, having been assured herself that, save for nightmares, god awful nightmares she didn’t even want to think about, Erica had healed remarkably well.
Mord frowned, tilting his head, gazing at Jess curiously. “I had been assured that she was making a full recovery. With naught save nightmares for foolishly risking her neck in a tournament meant for the strongest.” He shook his head slightly, teasing smile once more in place. “I did find it odd to hear how easily she had shaken off my blows, but now it makes sense.” He vented a knowing chuckle, his dark gaze leaving Jess feeling slightly nauseous.
“There are paths of healing, my dear Jessica de Calenbry. Dark, unorthodox paths frowned upon by the weak-willed and frightened instructors of even this college, far bolder than most in pursuing the true boundaries of magic, as they understand it.” He began to pace around Jess, examining her as he might a favored steed, and Jess found herself turning to face him, refusing to turn her back to him.
Mord smiled. “The True Art, dearest Jess. And I do not mean the art of your blade. Did you know it is reputed to hold the secrets to the most powerful healing magics? Magics rumored to be able to mend any shattered bone, heal any wound no matter how grievous, even cure the most dreaded diseases.” He nodded as if to himself. “But there is a price to pay, for such magics. What price did Erica pay, to be brought back from the brink of death? What visions of madness and despair is she haunted by, my dear Jessica? Portents of her own future, perhaps?”’
“Never!” Jess roared, completely ignoring Twilight's sharp hiss of protest.
With blinding speed that left even Jess shaken, Mord’s longsword had been torn free of its sheath, the masterwork blade now pressing against his own neck. Jess snarled with blackest hate as she realized how easy, how utterly easy it would be to slash and pull, to watch Mord’s eyes widen with horror as his arterial blood splashed her in crimson, choking on his last words even as she watched and savored the light dimming from his eyes.
And perhaps there was something in her gaze, for Mord looked genuinely shaken, even as Jess’s snarl turned to a fierce, manic grin, biting back the part of her that quailed at the thought of finally and truly killing him.
“Careful, Mord,” Malek tutted. “No matter how clever you think you are, with all your friends and sly stratagems, bait the bear too far and she will tear you down, even if it kills you both.”
“Yet you are no bear, my mistress. But a queen!” Twilight sounded almost panicked, his anxiety alone cutting through the hot flames of Jess’s fury like a winter gale chilling the embers of a roaring blaze. “Mar not your honor with a single drop of this worm’s blood, my mistress. Come. Let us be off and see what master Rens has to say. A place, I am sure, where Mord and his cohorts are most definitely not welcome.”
Jess snarled, shoving Mord away. Yet even with that simple shove, she had to fight fiercely not to slam him into the wall. Even so, the return of Mord’s cocky smile was not to be tolerated. She reveled in the sudden flush of panic upon his features as she abruptly slashed downward, the young man before her gasping and snarling, even as a fiercely grinning Jess yanked free his sundered sword belt, ripping free the sheath and claiming her prize with a satisfied nod.
“Thank you for the toy, Mord. And for your information, Erica will be fine. Body and soul. It is your own soul you should be worrying about, not hers.” Again, it was almost as if she gazed down upon her own lips uttering the words, yet she felt no reason to contradict herself, somehow sensing the truth of her declaration, and feeling tremendous relief as well.
Mord snarled before barking his laughter, drawing free his dirk. “You play a dangerous game woman, but that’s all right. Victory is so much sweeter when there is struggle in the contest. And you will find, my dear Jessica, that that holds true for submission as well.” He nodded then, furious gaze turning to amusement so fast it chilled Jess, reinforcing her awareness of how utterly unstable he was.
“And you’re not much better, my mistress,” Twilight wryly noted, almost as if he could read her very mind.
“You nearly killed me, you damn bastard! You left me so broken I was in agony!” Jess shouted. “You think I would ever consent to marrying you, knowing what kind of monster you are? Do you honestly think I will ever submit to your will? If there was ever a part of me that hungered for you, she does no longer, Mord. You’re insane, and a sadist as well!”
Mord nodded, completely unfazed by her declaration, his manner calm and in control once more, as if he was once again sure of his position, for all that Jess now held his sheathed blade.
“I am someone who believes in the virtue of power, my dear Jess,” Mord declared, calmly resheathing his dagger.
“A prize not fought for, victory over a foe easily bested, such a weak prize is hardly worth claiming, let alone forging an alliance with.” Mord shook his head, gazing at her with a look of actual disappointment. The very gall of it made Jess seethe all the more.
“All you had to do was submit,” Mord continued. “All you had to do was let me claim you! To yield and open your heart to me! Do you really think I would not have tended to your wounds? Do you really think I would have spared any expense in healing you? Easing your suffering? Holding you by my side?”
Mord’s eyes blazed with something very close to hurt. “All you had to do was submit, Jessica. I would have cared for you. I would have protected you, just like I protected that child! Risked my soul to save her own, and you, foolish bitch, don't even know!" Mord's eyes bulged, shocked by his own words. Almost desperately, it seemed, he shook that candor away, bemused expression once more in place. "You are a fool not to realize it, Jessica. Had you submitted to me, had you let me claim you, heart and soul? You would have been removed from the board, secure from all those who would see you dead. You would have been safe, in my arms.”
“Bloody hells!” Malek shook his head, gazing at Mord in stupefied amazement. “This madman is actually serious. He really thinks he's in love with you.”
Jess shuddered as she locked gazes with Mord at that moment, realizing that, vicious and terrible as he had been, he was not lying. There was no malice in his haunted gaze. Fury, yes. But he believed every word he said. He believed he loved her. Or could love her. If he could get past the choking anger that so utterly consumed him. His fury in their contest had been as much about her refusal to submit to him, utterly denying him the right to tend to her, as it had been about crushing an opponent he ached to embrace as much as destroy.
Only when he had completely broken her, utterly claiming her, then and only then could he adore and cherish her. And the ho
rror of it was, it was partly her fault. Every time Squires and Aspirants had joined forces to exterminate yet another holdout of raiders, slavers, or mercenaries, the dark madness she had embraced, cutting her foes down in righteous battlefury, had been a perfect mirror of his own. A kinship his twisted soul had latched upon, festering into a tragic obsession.
And much to her horror, she was sure she knew exactly whose child he had saved, exactly what that made him, and how perilous his move had been.
"Why?"
A bleak smile. Somehow, he understood. "I want power, Jessica. Not the destruction of my world. And keep your mouth shut. Only a brief window did Vaki's magics give us, no more. If you dare speak of this again, you very likely put my life, my very soul in jeopardy. And I assure you, future wife, that most definitely breaks our oath."
Jess felt queasy, staring into Mord’s haunted, bitter gaze; understanding in that moment truths she would rather remain blissfully ignorant of. Echoes of the horror of his own upbringing, suddenly as clear to her as bloody ink upon the bruised and battered flesh of a sobbing child. Echoes that, stone cold sober, she finally allowed herself to see. It was hard to loathe an enemy, after all, whose heart she suddenly understood.
“I am going to kiss you, Jessica de Calenbry,” Mord solemnly declared, walking right up to her, even as Jess snarled. “It is my right. And you will find, Jess, that it is far sweeter to submit than to resist.” He flashed a bitter smile. “Of course, you can run me through, and then I have a claim upon your soul and all the dark power you swear you don’t possess.” Jess swallowed, chilled by those words. “Really, it would be so much easier if you just let me kiss you.”
And before Jess could offer any more protest, Twilight furiously hissing and nipping her ear when she fought to unsheathe her blade, it was too late. Mord had placed a hand behind her neck, surprisingly gentle, leading her mouth, half open in outrage, against his own.
His lips were soft, pressing gently against her trembling mouth.
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