Squire Hayseed

by S E Zbasnik

  “Can I…can I ask you something else?” Hayley batted at her fingers, collapsing them together. He tipped his head to her and waited. She needed a good mental run-up, the thought weighing on her since she strolled into ‘beat-em-up’ central for the squire try-outs. “Have you ever killed people?”

  She whispered it to her lap, her eyes honed on the filthy log beneath her new leggings. But Hayley felt Gavin shift away from her, only the sound of grasshoppers chirping away breaking the air.

  “Yes,” his voice barely caught on the wind, rolling in the breeze as he confessed the truth.

  “Will I have to kill people?” She bit her lip, sliding her ass back and forth over the heavy bark. Good thing there were no ant colonies setting up shop around here. The thought of a million tiny bites to the butt distracted her from the bloody truth. She knew what knights did, but didn’t really think about it. Not when the offer was made for certain, not even when they were slapping a fancy livery on her chest. But now…when she had no idea how long until she’d be free from this, it kept dropping on her brain.

  A friendly hand cupped her shoulder for a beat before Gavin gripped to the log, “Have you killed before?”

  Hayley shook her head, then grimaced, “Never on purpose.” It was an answer that said both a lot and nothing, which seemed to be how he took it.

  Sighing, the weary knight shifted to gaze down across the road they trampled to death. “There will come at a time when you will be called upon to act with a deciding stroke. But,” he wet his lips a moment in thought, then shrugged, “it will not be for many moons. At least,” Gavin rose to his feet, stretching wide to face the road ahead, “not until I can get some training under your belt.”

  Hayley skittered from her place, muttering to herself, “So running away from your stick-swinging, mouth-foaming foe isn’t a sanctioned knight tactic?”

  “No,” he laughed, “but it was certainly entertaining to watch.”

  Great. Maybe he picked her because he hoped she’d be the clown of the castle. Oh god, were they going to a castle? Was that what estate meant? The breath caught in Hayley’s throat, her chewed and broken fingernails digging against the tight collar.

  Unaware of his squire’s sudden turn towards panic, Gavin resumed his lead. “Come along, we should reach Lady Bernadine’s before nightfall.”

  Bobbing her head, while she felt her feet fall numb, Hayley wandered behind him. In her head, she pictured a tall castle with sharp turrets and towers, guards with nothing but slits for eyes aiming arrows at all below, and bodies of rotting skinny blonde girls dangling outside the walls.

  It wasn’t a castle. There was no moat filled with roaming gangs of meat-hungry monsters, nor parapets loaded down in arrow holes to plug whoever dared to approach. But it was big. Very big. At first, Hayley thought it was a small mountain range in the distance — white peaks cresting through the sea of green.

  When she spotted shingles circling the precipice of the mountain, she had to reassess her assumption.

  The ground was a lot more stomped down here, not even a weed allowed to grow on the road, much less the saplings that popped up on the King’s highway. White-grey stones fenced in the estate from the forest, vines of the richest greens dangling from up top. It wasn’t a high climb, maybe eight feet altogether. She could probably manage it when it was time.

  Her knight gripped onto the wrought iron bars hung across the gap in the wall and gave a tug. Whining like a pig stuck in a chute, the gate yanked open without any fanfare. Hayley stuck her head out further, trying to get a glimpse of whoever was inside. Shouldn’t there be guards? At least a few dozen soldiers stomping around doing what soldiers did. Drinking and harassing honest merchants as far as she remembered.

  The land was quiet. Only the winds out of the southwest rippled through a trio of bushes left stacked beside the marble steps. It was towards them that Gavin jogged. He’d been steady but slow on their long, meandering walk towards this place. But with the safety of a roof in sight, he took off. Hayley thought about following, but her tongue swelled in her mouth.

  Gripping onto the unnaturally cold bars, Hayley’s wary eyes drifted around the various smaller houses scattered about the grounds. One area, in particular, boasted that piquant smell of animal feces so probably the barn. Another bore smoke buffeting from a chimney wide enough to hide a bull inside. Probably a kitchen kept away from the main house to prevent fires. It was the rest that left Hayley baffled, scattered around the wide fields like deserted islands peeking out of the waves.

  “Squire,” Gavin’s peeved voice broke her concentration and she glanced up to see him attempting to call her again. Crap.

  As Hayley dashed towards the front steps, he sighed, “When I say you follow, it is not a suggestion.”

  “I didn’t think…I mean, I did think. I can think, I only,” she blathered while trailing up the steps. Her head hung down, eyes skirting the mud-stained stairs until the stone switched to wood. As the pair passed through the massive front door into whatever acted as the front room, Hayley sighed, “It’s a really big place.”

  “Indeed,” a pinched, female voice echoed off the tall rafters. Hayley whipped her head up to watch a woman with grey-white hair piled like snow on her head descend down the stairs. Her hand kept a tight grip to a gilded cane, which clip-clopped down the wooden stairs. It dented deep into the side of the woman’s brocade skirts, which disguised how rail thin her upper arms looked. Only a sliver of them prodded through a thin sheaf of linen for the sleeves. The rest of her body was smothered in fancy fabrics.

  “Built by my great-great-grandfather in the reign of King Philipe the fifth. Christened by the great Dane Strider himself before he was lost to the War of Spice,” she continued to explain before coming to a stop on the step just above the pair. “Ser Gavin,” the woman smiled, her pickled and plastered face folding back to reveal a hint of emotion below all the primping.

  The knight skittered forward, his head bowed low when the woman’s talons dug into his shoulder and tugged him towards her. Mummified lips glanced a quick, friendly kiss to Gavin’s cheek. As he tipped away, a smear of red stain remained in its wake. “You have returned to us.”

  “Yes, my Lady,” he bowed again, seeming out of sorts with this whole thing.

  “And it was good hunting?” The woman’s steel eyes turned from what had to be her all-time favorite knight towards the scraggly gutter trash Gavin dragged into her home.

  “Ah,” a blush nearly burned the lipstick kiss off of his cheek, “this is…” Shutting his eyes tight a moment, Gavin shifted his head high and in a booming voice said, “Duchess Bernadine, may I present to you my squire — Hayley.”

  “Hello, young one,” she said, her coiffed hairpiece tipping towards Hayley.

  “Yeah, um, hi,” Hayley muttered, one hand digging into her upper arm. The fancy lady blinked madly, her painted eyelashes fluttering like ripples in the pond. Bernadine glanced quickly to Gavin who was turning to ash from something.

  Uncertain what to do, Hayley gave a little wave of her fingers, her face pursed in confusion. The duchess knocked her cane once upon the stairs and sighed, “I suppose you take whatever you can get.” She spoke only to Gavin, though the side of her eyes kept a close sweep of Hayley.

  The knight grew more uncomfortable, shifting on his toes, but he kept his little subjugation dance up for the old bat’s benefit. “No one is born a knight, my Lady.”

  “True,” she sighed. “Though I rather doubt you showed such insolence in your first year, or were so scrawny. I fear this child is naught but bone.”

  “Hey…” Hayley began, when Gavin stepped right in front of her, shielding the poor Lady Bernadine from having to look upon the skeleton dumped in her foyer.

  “Has there been any news to the estate since my departure?” he asked, drawing the evil old woman right to him instead.

  Her withered lips lifted in a smile, revealing some of the red swiped across her pale teeth. Hayley coul
dn’t hide the snort when she caught it. Paying the girl no heed, Bernadine said, “Thankfully, no. Though I fear that shall not hold forever.”

  “We can but pray,” Gavin said, his head bowing deeper as if he truly meant to fall to his knees and clasp his hands.

  “Quite.” The woman wasn’t about to let some title-less upstart get in the last word, even if she had nothing to add.

  Gavin’s cautious eyes darted back to Hayley who kept licking at her teeth. “If you will excuse me, my Lady, I need to get my squire settled. The road was…long.”

  “I fear summer shall not fade easily to fall’s kiss,” the Lady continued to talk as if she ate a bard. “Go ahead, take what time you need to get the child washed and I fear deloused. Hopefully, we shall get her fattened up enough that she will be useful to you.”

  Deloused. Hayley sneered at the thought. She was always careful about where she lay her head. Mostly careful. Two pairs of eyes turned to the girl fuming and she realized her damn hand crept under her cap and was scratching away at the scalp. “Just an itch,” she mumbled, splaying her fingers on her thighs.

  “Of course it is, child,” Bernadine continued to scold her. “When you are finished, Ser Gavin, I require your attendance. I shall be in my chambers, but you may knock for entrance.”

  With that final word, the old hag turned on her heel and began to rise up the stairs. The thwack of the cane rattled Hayley’s teeth and despite the pressing heat, she shivered. Gavin stood silent, watching as if to make certain she made it up the stairs before he announced, “I shall, my Lady.”

  Bernadine didn’t seem to register his boot-licking words, just wandered on back to whatever circle of hell she climbed out of. A soul-crushing sigh rattled from Gavin’s nostrils, causing Hayley to glance away from the mahogany posts. “Walk with me,” he muttered.

  She expected him to drag her deeper into the house. From this vantage point, Hayley could just make out what looked like a massive fireplace with an elegant dining table and carved chairs before it. But her knight turned towards the front door and led her back into the fading sunlight. Scrabbling on her toes, Hayley raced to keep up. Where were they going?

  To the barn? Maybe that was why he was ordered to delouse her. She’d have to sleep with all the goats and shit, and they didn’t want their animals to get infested.

  To the kitchen? The squire would have to sleep curled on her side with only the dying embers of the hearth to keep her warm.

  He walked past both of her could-be beds and towards one of the smaller buildings. Digging an iron key out of the pouch on his hip, Gavin cracked open the lock and ushered Hayley inside. A small fire darted light against a single chair perched in front of it. There was a hint of a table near, but she couldn’t make it out. Beside the fireplace was a door, closed as tight as anything else in the place.

  To her right was another room, stone and cold, with a handful of plucked geese dangling upside down off the ceiling. Onions bundled in sacks trembled beside the dead foul, like festive decorations for a holiday. Barely any of the sunlight made it through a dingy window covered in an iron lattice.

  Sighing, her Knight strode forward, striking a flint to a few candles and giving more light to the place. Hayley was left standing alone on another doorstep, her fingers patting into each other. After Gavin finished lighting the final candle beside what turned out to be a stack of books he turned towards her.

  “I understand that you are…not used to the gentry,” he began, “but you would do well to treat Lady Bernadine with respect.”

  “Because she was clearly ladling me in nothing but respect,” Hayley jammed a hand onto her hip and sneered.

  “You would not be here were it not for her kindness or support,” he growled. “Nor would you be a—”

  Alive. She heard the word his lips didn’t speak. It clanged through the air like a fire bell. She’d be deader than those geese, her skin roasting in the sun as she dangled from her neck.

  “A squire,” Gavin said instead. “I owe her much.”

  “Seems she likes you owing her,” Hayley kept on prodding at him, not happy about letting it go. She’d been berated, and prodded, and bruised for the past day and a half. Sucking it up and playing along was wearing very thin.

  “You owe her as well. It will be her food you eat, her water you drink.” He stomped past Hayley towards the dead geese. For a moment she wondered if he was going to cut one down and toss it at her to cook, but he kept on towards a back storeroom. “Her bed you sleep in,” he finished, burning a candle against the wick of a small one recessed into the wall.

  Built into the pantry shelves rested a bed above all the barrels stuffed with pickled and dried foods. It dangled out, threatening to strike Gavin’s head if he didn’t bend deeper at the knees, but it was off the ground. Way off the ground. Twist too far in sleep and Hayley was liable to wake up with a broken nose.

  She slipped into the pantry, her fingers curling over one of the pillars that kept the bed from falling. Unfortunately, it made for a tight fit. Rubbing into the back of his neck, Gavin darted out into the stone room. “There is a ladder on the side to help you climb.” He gestured towards the few yanked out stones on the wall. Not the easiest to use, but doable.

  Hayley dug her toes in, making it up two stone rungs before she glanced back. “There’s no door.”

  “Yes,” he popped his lips, the candle wobbling at the uncomfortable dance he began, “I’m uncertain if we can add one to the structure of the wall. Perhaps a slab of wood could be placed over it for your privacy.”

  She bonked her nose upon the wooden slats of the bed she realized he must have put up there himself. It was a tight, partially lopsided fit. A thought struck her and she couldn’t stop the chuckle, “Thought you’d have a boy, huh?”

  His eyes shot open wide. “No. I hadn’t…” Wincing, the knight’s voice wafted back to his breathy whisper, “I did not consider it.”

  Hayley shrugged at that. She hadn’t considered being a squire at all, so they were both in that same boat at least. Hooking a foot into the next stone, she began to climb up towards the bed, when her knight’s voice dropped low.

  “I ask that you remember whatever interactions you have with people, especially those high born, every one reflects back upon me. You are…an extension of me, an example, a voice.”

  So, what? Every time she went off, every time she got angry, every time she had to whack a nose and run away, it’d mean he did it too? “That’s stupid,” Hayley spat to herself, before remembering she wasn’t alone.

  “Perhaps, but it is the knight’s code. You are my squire, forever my responsibility until you leave my service. Can you handle that? Can you remember to curb your tongue more?”

  He didn’t lash out with a fist or a belt, just stood stoically with a candle in hand while asking her to behave. It made Hayley flinch in confusion. All the adults in her life only corrected her one way. Nodding her head, she mumbled that she would and scrabbled up onto the bed. The wood creaked at her ‘bird-like’ weight, but the frame didn’t collapse towards the floor.

  Still, she eased herself more carefully, noticing a blanket and pillow were left up top for her use. Hayley reached out to fluff up one, when Gavin said, “I should let you rest. No doubt it has been a trying few days. Tomorrow will be much worse.”

  Worse? As if she’d care. Lords and Ladies flopping about. Her having to represent him? That was too much. This was far too dangerous for her taste. Hayley gripped a hand to her thigh as if she was trying to pin down the breeches. Best to leave tonight. Wait until cover of darkness and stars, then dart free of her little pantry room and out the gate. Shouldn’t take more than an hour. She could easily fill her pockets with food for the journey and follow the river back towards the city. Doubtful Gavin or any of the rest would bother to look for her.

  Her knight cupped a hand around the flame on his candle and turned to leave her, when she suddenly asked, “Where do you sleep?”

 
; “Hm?” he spun back, his amber eyes burning into her.

  “I assume it’s not in a bed over top a larger pantry.”

  “Ah, no,” he smiled, his cheek lifting Bernadine’s slovenly kiss higher. Hayley drew a finger over her blanket’s edge. She expected he was up in the main house, probably watched over special by her old lecherousness. “In fact, my room is but right over there,” Gavin pointed through a brick wall towards that closed door Hayley noticed before.

  Shit.

  “We shall spend much time together,” he smiled as if that was a good thing. “Tomorrow I will teach you the fullness of your duties. Until then, sleep well, Squire.”

  Having said his peace, Gavin drifted towards the sitting room. Hayley clung tight to her perch on the weird bed, her heart thundering in her chest. He’d be right there, right over there, not even a hall away. Crap. He’d hear her. He’d drag her back in. Maybe even chain her up to…

  She curled tight into a ball at the thought, her entire face squishing up as if the world would forget her existence. Outside of her little pantry room she heard the front door open as Gavin no doubt had to attend to his own duties. The damn thing was loud. Hayley didn’t realize how loud the hinges squeaked when they first entered, but in her stone prison, the noise echoed far and wide.

  He’d know in an instant if she tried to leave. He’d catch her before she even got to the gate. Damn it all!

  What now?

  One hand clinging to the top of her right thigh, Hayley inched over the creaking bed. She unfurled the blanket, greedily snuggling under it. This time, she pried off her boots — trying to not die from the smell burning off her feet. As each hit the floor below her bed, she lay her head flat to the pillow and thought.

  Tonight she’d get some sleep. After the past week, she’d barely had any.