Squire of War

by M. H. Johnson

  “For you too I have an opportunity, my dear Jess. Your talent is one we could put to great use in the college of enchantment, particularly when uncovering unknown artifacts. Should you deign to allow us to put you on retainer, you will receive credit for being no less than a journeyman specialist in residence, and can look forward to room, board, and a modest stipend from the college, depending on the discoveries uncovered. The physical fruits are perhaps of minimal interest to one of your noble birth, but your scholarly rank is well earned, and will be noted as part of your academic accomplishments when you graduate. So too, my door will be open to you, should you wish to study further, or be employed directly by our esteemed college.”

  Jess blinked. “You mean I can stay at Highrock? Even if, gods forbid...”

  Rens eyes glittered with an odd intensity. If it was anger, it was not directed at her, at least. “Certain things I will not speak aloud, for if I did, I would need to penalize the foolish mastermind of an expedition wreathed in folly. And I need that boy far too much to risk the damage school-wide shame and censure would cause to his confidence and focus.”

  A powerful hand gently clasped her shoulder. “But don’t think I am unaware of the sacrifice made by one who chose beautiful folly, risking her neck and those of her friends to save half a score of children a heartbeat away from endless nightmare.”

  Jess shivered from the intensity of the man’s gaze. All their verbal fencing aside, he had taken their measure from the second they had arrived, knew them as intimately as any teacher could, for reasons Jess couldn’t even fathom. Perhaps because it had been Jess and Malek that had led the perilous charge that had almost ended in scores of deaths which would have haunted Jess for an eternity, but instead she had emerged victorious, near a dozen souls given salvation, covered as she had been with shame for her dire folly.

  She had rolled the dice and won, and Ren’s gaze alone let her know that he, at least, was grateful for her following her heart.

  Jess fiercely held back bittersweet tears, grateful that someone understood how terrible that moment had been, how desperate she had been to save her friends.

  Rens slowly nodded. “What is my old friend’s favorite expression again? Triumph in battle forgives any sins of technique. And your triumph was absolute, Jessica de Calenbry. You may rest assured that in this wing of the college, at least, no soul will dare to mock your sacrifice. For the helpless scholars but moments away from death could just as easily been anyone who walks these halls.”

  Jess bowed her head. “Thank you, Master Rens. You don’t know what that means, to hear it said aloud.”

  Soft, dry laughter. “Eloquin doesn’t need foolish heroes doomed to die in tragic glory. He needs the grimmest of commanders, willing to do whatever it takes to see the battle through.” Rens sighed. “He brought us victory from the jaws of defeat, and the tally in lives was so red that the scars haunt both our nations to this day. He’s right, of course. We do need the deadliest of commanders fighting for Erovering. He forgets, however, that heroes aligned with an angel’s cause are just as precious, just as vital.”

  Jess barked bitter laughter. “I am no hero, sir. Far, far too much blood is on my hands for that mantle ever to be worn by one such as I.”

  Jess gasped, unable to believe she had said those words aloud.

  Ren’s gaze was strangely fey. Jess felt almost as if she could fall right into them, quickly turning away. “The High Hunt kisses the eternal even as it demands the darkest of bounties, haunting its revelers every bit as much as the fools doomed to fall.” He chuckled softly. “Erovering is flush with old magics. Wild magics. Blatantly embraced before the eyes of every scholar in this school, and so many of those pedantic fools don’t even see it.”

  Malek gazed at Rens, just as poleaxed as Jess felt. “Master...”

  Rens only smiled, gently shaking his head. “And we will say no more on it. And Eloquin would be an inconceivable fool if he let the miscarriage of your shaming persist any longer than necessary. But fear not. As to your question, even should bitter folly take her due, and the mantle of Squire no longer be yours, you shall most definitely be welcome within my halls."

  Jess smiled, but her heart was heavy. “I am grateful for your kind words, Master Rens. And though I hope one day to remove the burden of this robe and rejoin my brothers and sisters in arms once more, even if successful, one day this beautiful summer shall surely end. And then I will be a valued Squire no longer, merely a daughter whose return home is long overdue.”

  The strange look Rens favored her with made it all too clear her darkest suspicions regarding their endless summer just might be correct. “I know your intentions are honorable, Master Rens, and all else aside, I would love, absolutely love to help you in discovering and uncovering these items of lore and figuring out their purpose. But when all is said and done, I fear that upon my graduation, my father will insist upon my return.”

  She sighed, before lifting her head to meet the master enchanter’s gaze. “For we all know that noble daughters, liberated as they are in Erovering compared to some kingdoms on the continent, still, in the end, are tied to their father’s will in terms of marriage and inheritance. And for all that my father would value my opinions in terms of a desirable match, ultimately I have no doubt but that he will see me married before another year passes.” Jess gave vent to a frustrated sigh. “As gilded as the bars of my imprisonment will be, however sweet the songbird's melody that keeps me company, a cage is still a cage.”

  Her grin was bitter. “Unless I am willing to submit my desire for suffrage in a trial of combat and risk slaying my very father, or an innocent man who did me no wrong, I will be unable to break those bonds of commitment. And my father knows me too well to ever think I would do such a thing as that.” She paused in reflection. “It is interesting though, is it not, how adventurers, as much as they are looked down upon by the aristocracy, are also so useful and feared that they are able to bypass all the constraints placed even on nobility? When you look at it that way, an adventurer is the only truly free person in the kingdom.”

  Rens’ gaze was deadly serious. “So, to avoid an unwanted marriage set up by your most doting father, you are willing to risk your very life, the memory of your very existence, all in a desperate bid to free yourself from your family’s expectations? Are you prepared then to give up all formal rights to your father’s lands and title with such a dangerous act of rebellion?”

  Rens shook his head. “Do you not realize how much you have already sacrificed, already given up, having followed Eloquin’s black banner for so long?” He sighed. “So much I cannot say. So much I dare not say. Not even now, with you both trembling like children, afraid I will whisper dark horrors that set you to screaming, fey secrets you were never meant to hear. I will only say this. I came to Highrock to find the wildest magics to tap into, ancient powers, many many years ago.”

  Rens flashed the strangest of smiles. “I was not disappointed. And though I have the fiercest regard for you both, you contemplate rushing headlong into a sea of sweet madness, not even realizing how long you have been swimming in a cauldron so similar. Are you both truly set on this path?”

  Jess, eyes deadly serious, nodded curtly. “I would decide my own fate, beholden to nothing save my own resolve, my own virtue, tarnished as it is. I love Eloquin more fiercely than he will ever know. For him alone do I blacken my dagger, knocking hapless pieces from the board without question, no matter how much they plead and beg.” Jess choked back a sob, not knowing why she dared to say such thoughts aloud, knowing only that Rens was far more than he seemed. Much like her master. “I would embrace stories where I can be the hero, vanquishing evil on my own terms.”

  Malek nodded. “I would never fail to answer the king’s call. But I can think of nothing so grand as to actually set foot within living dream, embracing the opportunity to perhaps discover and harness lost arts long since relegated to legend, if we truly have what it takes to become Del
vers, those living heroes credited with so many feats of glory and daring, if the Guild's more grandiose tales are to be believed.

  “Imagine it, Master Rens, if Jess and I were able to escape age's cruel grasp, to live and explore worlds of dream and wonder for centuries, to bring back knowledge and lore that would make Erovering's mages the most powerful force to be reckoned with on the face of Dawn!” Malek chuckled. “Or so the legends go. At the very least, we might pick up interesting bits of lore and artifacts long since lost to time that would interest the college greatly.”

  Jess nodded. “There is that, as well. Maybe it’s a fool’s dream. But if we have the talent to access the Shadowrealms, untold riches await our discovery, and anything we find and claim, any bounties and boons we earn, would be from our own merits alone. Not by dint of our titles, or noble privileges; nor would they be mere gifts or bribes given to us as indulgences. And perhaps, if we truly do step into living story, we can tell a tale as sweet and joyous as any soul could hope to forge, and who’s to say it isn’t a true forging? Perhaps we change the past, or some version of the past, in ways we can only fathom.”

  Jess shrugged. “If we don’t have the talent for it? If legendary palaces from the halcyon days of lost eras peeping out of the hazy mists of time only fade away as we approach them, nothing more than a mirage, a trick of the light? Then we know we don’t have the blood of Delvers in our veins. Then we know that our dream of becoming adventurers was just that. A dream. And as you said, we are always welcome here at the college.”

  Rens sighed, gazing at the pair of hopeful looking students thoughtfully for a time, before seeming to at last come to a decision. “I see. Very well, then. Jess? Malek? When my apprentices and journeymen attempt to open the gate to peer into the Shadowrealms, even as the Delvers we hope to hire stand ready to enter if we are unable to seal it off, you are welcome to be counted among us, to witness our great work, so long as you promise not to interfere.”

  Jess and Malek bowed as one, expressions equally alight with gratitude and exhilaration. “Master Rens, we are grateful!” they declared in unison.

  Rens nodded. “The ceremony will be the night of the solstice. Rest well, and prepare yourselves. It you wish to come armed to aid us should the unforeseen occur, by all means, do so. Just please remember to keep the use of metal to a minimum. Your blades, linked to you both by dint of sweat, struggle, and long familiarity, you may bring. But I must insist upon no steel armaments, as an excess of iron can have grave repercussions in the Realm of Dreams. And Jess? I formally give you welcome, even should the worst occur.” He flashed a grim smile. “It matters not if you are an exiled student. Under the mantle of Delver, all past transgressions are forgiven. Be sure, however. Once you declare yourself as such, the Guild will be all too eager to claim you for their own.”

  Jess nodded. “Thank you, Master Rens. Eloquin has a number of suits of complete lamellar armor made of boiled rawhide plates, and I believe I can scrounge up armaments almost as durable in my quarters. Over all the endless months, I’ve built up quite a collection of gear. I'm sure we'll be more than ready for the adventure that awaits us.”

  Malek nodded. “And if there is any chance of us scrounging up bronze gauntlets, helmet, or greaves, we'll be about as well protected as we can be, and safely enter Regio.”

  Rens nodded. “Very good. And now if you will both excuse me, a number of projects require my attention. And Malek, please feel free to stop by tomorrow morning at sunrise. We will ascertain your strengths, and initiate a study regimen covering the core basics you must master before we can begin training you in the arts of enchantment. Is this agreeable to you?”

  Malek bowed low. "Without question, my master. It will be the greatest of honors, when I am able to study under you." His voice trembled, and Jess felt a vicarious thrill of happiness, glad that he, at least, was free to pursue his dreams.

  Rens nodded again. “Well then. Prepare yourselves, my students. We expect the Shadowrealm so close to our own to bridge our realities upon the solstice, the night of our ceremony. I will see you both at the site then.”

  36

  Jess and Malek exchanged excited grins as they made their way back through the Wizards Wing to the heart of the keep, Jess’s buoyant mood lasting up to the moment she entered the dining hall, famished, the muted roar and bustle stilling with her entrance, a hundred pair of eyes turning to stare her way…

  And Jess froze. Breathless. All her ebulant confidence melting away like dew before the sun, leaving nothing but frigid uncertainty in its place.

  Powerful hands quickly grabbed her shoulders. “Come on, Jess. To our table.”

  She all but huddled against him, doing her best not to meet anyone’s gaze, the oppressive weight of so many stares an opponent against which she had no counter, fierce temperament that had won her so many battles wilting before so very many hostile glares.

  “Why don’t you crawl back in your cave, supplicant? You don’t belong here.”

  “Murderer.”

  “Wretch.”

  The words burned into her. Hostile whispers and guttural curses rung through her skull. Students who might not dare to catch her eyes in the corridors between classes, Malek glaring so protectively by her side, were more than happy to let loose their hate, their outrage, with several hundred peers to mix their comments among.

  It did not matter that uncertainty was every bit as prevalent as contempt. The scorn Jess sensed cut her to the quick.

  “Come on, Jess. We’re right over there. See? Raphael and Alex, waving to us warmly, not giving a rat’s arse for the handful of fools who dare say nothing to your face.”

  And then Jess was plowed back, shoved firmly in her chest, battle reflexes jerking her back before she froze in her tracks, chilled to see the gaunt face, the hate filled eyes of none other than the head proctor, his off hand in a cast still.

  So. The dreamlike vision she had of Eloquin grinding his wrist had not been a dream.

  “You do not eat here, supplicant.” The gaunt-faced proctor hissed, before twisting his neck to glare at Malek. “Go ahead, Squire. Strike me. I dare you. I shall be all too happy to take your pretty little pins away and see you cast out like the black sheep you are, Malek de Sousel.”

  His lips wormed into a malicious smile as Malek paled, bearing his teeth in a snarl. The very flagstones seeming to reverberate with his growl.

  The proctor blanched and stepped back at the sound. “Blasphemous!” he hissed. “You will not show such insolence to me, student, Squire or no!” He unsheathed his baton, more than one student paling and flinching at the sight.

  Malek’s eyes went cold. All pretense burned away, he stared at the head proctor with a killer’s gaze. As used to the most violent of battlefields as was any knight who dared the vanguard, Malek’s smile turned bleak and deadly.

  “So be it. I declare our contempt beyond all remediation, and I demand satisfaction. Let’s end this farce, and embrace the madness of death. I challenge you, you pustulent excuse for a proctor, you malicious cur. The air stinks with your hate, and I meet you in kind. "

  He spat upon the flagstones.

  The proctor lurched back and hissed.

  “The gauntlet is throne, worm. Let us settle our differences in the only way that matters. Let’s settle it with steel.”

  “Malek!” Jess hissed. “It’s not worth it. Let’s just go.”

  Breathless moments passed, the head proctor glaring at Malek, speechless, shaking with fury.

  Malek flashed the bleakest of smiles. "You're right, Jess. No need to waste any more of my time with pathetic, puffed up cowards happy to brutalize unarmed women while trembling at the first sign of a real challenge."

  “How dare you, you insolent piece of filth!” The proctor roared, all restraint lost, lashing out with his baton.

  And Malek moved with the chilling speed that made him so damn effective whenever they blackened their daggers, whenever they embraced the High Hunt.<
br />
  The man crumpled to the ground, his voice an awful wheeze, Malek’s fist having struck so hard Jess heard the snapping of bone, baton torn from the proctor's grip before he could blink.

  Malek stepped back, glaring at the groaning proctor. With an icy smile he caught the man’s eyes. Gaunt features so filled with malice turned to dread as Malek snapped the baton in half, dropping both pieces upon the proctor’s shuddering form, turning on his heels, facing the crowd of awed students.

  “Who did not see the man strike without accepting challenge, myself unarmed?”

  No one said a word, Jess catching the slow smile of several Aspirants gazing on.

  “To assault a student is a crime. Even for a proctor who is permitted only to restrain, physical punishment decided upon only by one's military commanders or the dean himself. Is this not so?”

  The smiles grew.

  Malek’s voice rang through the cafeteria, catching the ears of those few professors approaching even now. “So, striking without sentence passed, without warning, without even accepting challenge, was assault. The head proctor struck me with weapon in hand. I defended myself with naught but my bare hands. Does anyone deny this?”

  Malek smiled into the silence.

  “My shieldsister and I shall get our lunch now. And in case anyone hasn’t figured it out yet, half a score students are alive right now who would not have been, if the girl you’re so quick to condemn hadn’t acted just as she had.” Eyes glittering, his smile grew hard. “Lives that could have been your own. Think about that, the next time you would dare to spit at her feet.”

  With a coldly formal bow, ignoring the groaning, cursing, gasping proctor, Malek turned on his heels, exchanging a single solemn glance with Jess, the pair making their way directly for the kitchens, not a single student jeering or mocking Jess along the way, all of them favoring her and Malek both with the strangest of stares.