Savior

by Loren K. Jones

  “And where are they now?” Java asked softly, her voice cutting through the cries of the wounded.

  “At the lord’s estate, if they didn’t go with him to Forest Haven, Princess,” the lieutenant answered hesitantly.

  Java stepped forward to look him in the eye. “Fetch them. Tell them that Princess Java of Hiddendell commands their presence.” Java’s mouth was twisted into a bitter frown as she looked about. Without another word, she began doing what she could to help bandage the wounded.

  The lieutenant simply stared at Java’s back until Marta cleared her throat and said, “She meant now.” He started, then turned and fled. Marta and Jah’Moke joined Java and all to helped to apply bandages and splint broken bones while they waited.

  The lieutenant returned after an indeterminable time with three elderly men in elegant robes. The eldest stepped forward and looked down his nose at Java. She was spattered with blood and her hair was hanging limp to her shoulders.

  “Are you the person who claims to be the Princess of Hiddendell?” he asked, his frowning face saying quite eloquently what he thought of that idea.

  Java stood up straight, her hand gesturing to the two ducal brooches that were pinned to her sash. “I am,” she replied levelly, looking the man in the eye. Then she shouted, “Where the hells have you been while Lord Froman’s city was burning and his people being killed?”

  The Mage was taken back by Java’s shout, but retained his calm. “We are not employed to keep the peace. That is the Guard’s function.”

  “So you do nothing while the city burns and people die? I order you to begin using healing spells to help these people,” Java snarled softly, her low voice telling her friends just how angry she was.

  “You order us? You have no authority over us. This is not your duchy,” he sneered, his chin coming up so that he could look down his nose at her.

  “It is my duchy. Or had you forgotten that I hold Mountainstand County as well?” Java asked, seeing the mage trying to ignore her.

  “This is not your county. We will be going now.” The Mage turned to go, but found his way barred by six Firewalkers. Turning back to Java, he glared at her. “You cannot force us. We are all Master Magi.”

  Robin stepped forward then and confronted them, her own expression one of barely suppressed rage. “Are you indeed?” she asked in a dangerously soft purr. “I don’t think so.” Her hands moved, and the three men found themselves bound and shielded. Robin had learned a few tricks from the triplets. “If you are Masters, then what am I?” she asked, grinning.

  “Release us! Release us immediately! You cannot do this to us!” the elder shouted, struggling against the bonds that held him.

  “No. These people need my attention. That spell doesn’t.” Turning her back on them, she returned to caring for the wounded.

  Java looked at the Magi, then returned to her tasks. Robin’s spells were effective, and soon they had nothing but bandaging and poulticing to keep them busy. Java kept looking over at the Magi, and grinned as they tried to break the spell that held them. Finally, Robin walked back over to them.

  “Gentlemen, you are one and all frauds. None of you are beyond Journeyman Class. I shall so inform your master when we see him.” She made a slight gesture and they were free.

  “I have been a Master Mage for thirty years!” the elder shouted, puffing his chest and advancing on Robin.

  Robin simply stood her ground, waiting. “Then you were passed by a fraud as well. Be gone. After five years on the border, I suspect my combat techniques are far more up to date than yours.” Robin kept her eyes wide and her voice soft, but the Magi still blanched and backed away.

  * * *

  A night and most of another day passed before Lord Froman returned. His immediate reaction to the Firewalkers’ presence was not favorable. “What the hells are all these women doing in my city!” he shouted as soon as he saw the lieutenant in charge of the Guard.

  “Lord Froman, please. We couldn’t contain the riots, and they arrived just in time to save the city,” the lieutenant stammered as the lord stomped through the gates.

  Java had refused to stay in the city while the Firewalkers were forced to camp outside the walls, and she walked up as Lord Froman was shouting at the lieutenant.

  “Lord Danilad, how nice to see you again,” she said sweetly, smiling as his head snapped around. “You have a lovely pile of charred timbers.”

  “Who..?” he began, then recognized her. Lowering himself briefly to one knee he asked, “What are you doing here, Princess?”

  “I was traveling home to Hiddendell when we passed a lovely bonfire and decided to stop. Tell me, Lord Danilad, why do you allow your citizens to riot while your Magi sit on their asses and drink your wine?” she asked, her voice changing from light and sweet to a harsh rasp. “You very nearly didn’t have a city to return to. If Lieutenant Kelven hadn’t volunteered to aid the Guard, which she was not required to do, then you would be looking at the remains of your city through those gates.” She pointed off to the side to where the normal bustling city was visible.

  “Is this true?” he asked the guard lieutenant. Receiving a nod, he turned back to Java. “Princess, we thank you for your assistance.”

  Java shook her head. “Thank the Firewalkers. They did all the work and deserve all of your thanks.” Java nodded to where Maren was seeing to her horse. “We will be leaving, now that you have returned.”

  Lord Danilad swallowed visibly and approached Lieutenant Kelven. “Lieutenant, thank you. What do I owe the Firewalkers for this service?”

  “Courtesy, Lord Froman. No more or less than you owe anyone else.” Maren bowed deeply, then mounted her horse. Java and Marta joined the rest of the Firewalkers and they were soon on their way.

  * * *

  Lord Froman watched as the Firewalkers followed Java out of the area around his city. The Guard lieutenant sidled up beside him and waited to be noticed. Lord Froman finally sighed deeply and looked at him. “Well, Eli, spit it out.”

  “Father, those women are incredible. I’ve never seen fighters like them. And the Mage, Lady Robin? She’s very strong,” Lieutenant Eli Maryson said, looking at his father sideways.

  “And my Magi?”

  “The princess said it, Father. They were in the manor, drinking wine the whole time until Princess Java ordered me to fetch them. Then they refused to help. Lord Devon refused to even leave the manor, not that he could walk.” Eli was looking at his father carefully. “Lady Robin also called your magi frauds. She defeated them easily.”

  Lord Froman shook his head. “Eli, at times like this I wish I had a legitimate son like you.”

  * * *

  Java and her party reached Forest Haven, the county seat of Forest County, near mid-day of their third day on the road. Lord Garas had been informed of their approach as soon as they left the trees, and he was at the gates waiting for them as they arrived.

  Java rode forward alone and smiled as Lord Garas recognized her. “Well, Princess Java, welcome to my city. Welcome indeed.”

  Java dismounted and went to receive a ritual hug and kiss from Garas. “Thank you, Lord Garas. We’re returning to Hiddendell, and would like to camp outside of your city, if we may.”

  “Outside? You mean your escort, of course.”

  “All of us. I’m still very much a Firewalker, though I have resigned from the company. We would appreciate your permission to enter your city to visit your inns and alehouses, if you have no objections?” Java asked, smiling at Lord Garas.

  “You will do no such thing, Princess. Your escort will stay in the Guard Barracks. They’re still all but empty, and the few men present won’t object too loudly. You and your friends will be my guests. Danilad was just here a few days ago. Did you pass him on the road?” Lord Garas was escorting Java into the city with the Firewalkers following.

  Java briefly detailed their visit to Wyvern’s Nest and her meeting with Lord Froman. “...so we left him st
anding at his gates and rode off as soon as we could.”

  “That fool! Not Danilad, though he’s bad enough. It’s that son of his. The boy was there, I assure you, but he was probably so sotted on wine and drugs that he couldn’t even stand. No wonder the Houses thought they could fight out their differences.” Lord Garas’ face was frozen in a disapproving scowl.

  Java simply nodded. There was nothing she could say. She hadn’t met Lord Devon. At Lord Garas’ prompting she introduced the rest of her party. Lord Garas stared at Jah’Moke, openly amazed that he was Java’s betrothed.

  “Well, young man, you are very fortunate. Not only are you betrothed to a beautiful woman, but you are betrothed to the heir of a duchy as well. How extraordinary,” he said, looking Jah’Moke over carefully.

  Jah’Moke bowed briefly to Lord Garas before replying. “I must still receive permission from both of Java’s fathers, Lord Sanless. Then we must wait another year before our wedding may take place.”

  “Another year? Why is that?” Lord Garas asked, looking between Java and Jah’Moke.

  “It’s a Latté custom, Lord Garas,” Java supplied. “They have no ritual for breaking a bond, so they make the couple wait a year to make sure they’re serious.” Java looked at Jah’Moke and smiled. “We’ve waited more than five years already. One more won’t kill us.”

  Lord Garas smiled but didn’t say anything else. His years were passing all too quickly now, and the idea of waiting one didn’t seem that long to him either.

  The people of Forest Haven were lining the streets as their lord led the Firewalkers through the city. The Guard Barracks were next to Lord Garas’ manor, and Lieutenant Kelven began detailing her women out as soon as they arrived. The Guard commander, an old man with captain’s insignia on his uniform, came to Lord Garas immediately.

  “Lord Garas, what’s happening?” he asked, looking at the women who were dismounting in his courtyard.

  “Captain Lenten, let me introduce Princess Java of Hiddendell. She’s traveling through with her escort, and I have offered them the hospitality of the Guard Barracks for the time they will be here. Lieutenant Kelven is their commander. Please extend them every courtesy. It’s the least we can do, considering their service to Greencastle against Frander.” Lord Garas smiled at the expression on Captain Lenten’s face. The captain obviously didn’t want these mercs in his barracks, but the lord’s word was law.

  Lord Garas escorted Java, Robin, Jah’Moke and Marta to his manor, where he introduced them to his wife, Kenley. “My dear Princess, I am so pleased to meet you at last. Garas has had me curious about you since he returned from Greensboro.” Kenley hugged Java warmly and kissed her cheek. She had agreed with her husband that Java was to be cultivated as a friend when she was the lady of two counties. Now that she was also the Princess of Hiddendell, their neighbor, she was very glad that Garas had been nice to her.

  Java returned the hug and kiss. “Thank you, Lady Kenley. I have looked forward to meeting you as well. Your husband was very gracious to me when I was in Greensboro. For a simple young girl alone for the first time at court, it was very comforting.”

  Kenley laughed at that. “Oh, posh. I understand that old goat Everit was cosseting you the whole time. You watch him, Princess. He’s terrible.” Kenley grinned as Java looked at her.

  “He said he was protecting me from Lord Neval,” Java said with a grin.

  “But who was protecting you from him?” Kenley smiled, looking at Robin and Jah’Moke. “Come along now. You should meet our children, since they are your contemporaries and you’ll be dealing with them in the future.” She led Java and her party to a walled garden.

  Java did not see the lords and ladies at first, just a bunch of gardeners. Then Lady Kenley clapped her hands and called all of them to her. Java realized that these “gardeners” were Lord and Lady Sanless’ children and their spouses.

  “Our eldest, and the Heir to Forest County, Dennin, and his wife, Emily.” A man of about twenty-nine bowed, as did the woman at his side. Java guessed her age at twenty.

  “Our second born, Calvin, and his wife, Cherry.” The second young man bowed, as did his wife. Java guessed their ages at about twenty-two or twenty-three.

  “Next is our elder daughter, Sana, and her husband, Alric Wherrington.” Java bowed and smiled at the pretty young woman who faced her, and the obviously smitten young man at her side. She was only about eighteen, and he didn’t look much more than a year or two her senior.

  “And, of course, the twins, Ferdin and Jemi.” Java grinned at the two youngest children. They appeared to be fifteen or sixteen. “Children, this is Princess Java Mountainstand, Heir of Hiddendell, Lady of Mountainstand County, Lady of Link County, and our honored guest.” Lady Kenley smiled as her children again bowed in concert to Java.

  Java returned the bow. “I am very pleased to meet you all. May I present my mentor and friend, Marta Freeholm, founder of Freeholm’s Firewalkers.” Java paused as Marta bowed to the Sanless children, and they bowed to her. “My friend and companion, Lady Mage Robin Cartwright.” Robin grinned and bowed to the eight young people who faced her. “And my betrothed, Jah’Moke Cawfy of the Latté.” Jah’Moke folded his hands across his chest and bowed deeply, the greatest show of respect among the Latté.

  Lord Garas clapped his hands. “Enough of this seriousness. Go get cleaned up, children. I think a party to greet our guests is in order.” Lord Garas smiled as his children immediately scattered to change and clean up. “Princess, if you will follow me, I will see you to the guest rooms.” Lord Garas smiled and led Java and her party to several well-appointed rooms. A number of maids and a butler appeared out of nowhere and Lord Garas gave his instructions as to the comfort of his guests.

  Java had a quick word with Jah’Moke. “I don’t know what you should expect, but don’t let them push you around. You are Latté, so they will expect you to be a barbarian. Surprise them.” She kissed his cheek before she allowed the maid to lead her away.

  Jah’Moke was confronted by a disdainful butler who led him to a private bathing room. “You are expected to bathe before joining the lords and ladies.”

  Jah’Moke nodded. “Of course. You will see to my clothes. I will be wearing the red shirt and buff vest, with the red trousers.” Jah’Moke was consciously imitating one of the minor lords he had encountered in Greensboro, and smiled as the butler’s eyes widened. “I’ll see to my own bath, thank you.” Turning, he walked calmly to the bath and quickly stripped to the waist. Testing the water with one finger, he turned to scowl at the butler. “This is cold.”

  “Your pardon, Sir. A moment.” The butler said, caught off guard by Jah’Moke’s actions. He apparently hadn’t thought the “barbarian” would miss hot water, if he bathed at all. Running hot water into the tub, the butler watched Jah’Moke closely.

  Jah’Moke divested himself of the rest of his clothing, laying it out carefully on the bed. His muscular body was highlighted by the scars he had acquired during the war. When the butler stepped back, he nodded, then stepped into the bath.

  The butler watched Jah’Moke enter the bath with a curious expression on his face. Shaking off his reaction, he busied himself laying out the described clothes, and waited to assist Jah’Moke. Jah’Moke’s raised hand kept him back as he came out of the bath.

  “I am neither a child nor a feeble old man. I can dress myself, thank you.”

  Jah’Moke was quickly dressed. He allowed the butler to escort him to a library where the younger lords were already waiting. “Welcome, Lord Jah’Moke,” Lord Dennin said, stepping forward to clasp Jah’Moke’s hand briefly.

  “Lord Dennin, I am honored, but I do not deserve any title but that of Scout.” Jah’Moke bowed, never taking his eyes from the lord’s eyes. “I am not a noble of your duchies, nor of my people.”

  “And yet you are betrothed to the princess? How is that?” Lord Calvin asked, standing beside his brother.

  “Java and I have been toget
her for almost five years. We were friends before she found Sam, and Duke Kaster and Duke Arten ennobled her. She refused to turn away from me because of her titles. Duke Kaster and Duke Arten knew of our relationship before they gave her the counties and titles,” Jah’Moke answered truthfully.

  “Sam?” Lady Sana asked, moving in front of her brothers. “Who is Sam?”

  “Duchess Samantha. She went by the name Sam among the mercs, Lady,” Jah’Moke answered softly, bowing to the lady.

  “Are you so familiar with her that you dare to simply call her Sam?” Lord Dennin asked hotly, but Jah’Moke did not flinch away.

  “I am,” Jah’Moke replied, nodding his head slightly. “Sam and I formed a sort of bond due to our mutual relationship with Java. A good description would be that of elder brother and annoying little sister. Sam is a very difficult person at times.”

  “Those times being most of the time,” Java said, entering on the tail end of Jah’Moke’s comment. “Sammy has a very quick temper and all but no sense of discretion.” She went to Jah’Moke and slid her arm around his waist.

  “She is also a very nice person when she wants to be,” Robin added, “which, fortunately, is often.”

  “The duchess is very much like her mother. Java and Robin have had their hands full trying to keep her under control,” Marta added. “I was friends with Duchess Neldan for years, and Samantha is definitely her child.”

  The younger lords and ladies backed away after that. They had not been sure of what Jah’Moke or Java were like, but they had heard of Marta Freeholm.

  “Madam Freeholm, it is good of you to see Princess Java home to Hiddendell. What are your plans now that you no longer lead the Firewalkers, if I’m not being too bold by asking?” Lord Wherrington asked, looking Marta straight in the eye.

  Marta smiled softly at Java. “Princess Java has asked me to administer Link County for her.”

  “I will be asking Arten and Naria to name her Lady Freeholm. Then she’ll be my Lady High Chatelaine in Link County. Duke Kaster has already named Shair Skyhaven a lady, and she is seeing to Mountainstand County for me.” Java’s grin was happy as she faced the younger lords and ladies. “Lord Alric, I served with a woman named Darla Wherrington. A relative of yours, perhaps?” she asked, looking at the young man curiously.