Squire Hayseed

by S E Zbasnik

  Her eyes cut over the parchment covered in simple words. Letters ran the entire backside, most of them massive as Hayley tried to get used to the concept of a quill. Sit inside, read over the same three and four letter words until she got nauseated. Turn in early, ignore the huge celebration going on where her knight was drinking, gambling, and…tumbling every pretty eye that met his.

  Sod that!

  Hurling the parchment and quill set inside the tent, Hayley struck out into the massive army city. She started heading towards the knight extravaganza, but when her eyes caught another smaller fire, she turned to that instead. Perhaps it was one of the other orders having their own celebration. Either way, she was less likely to have an angry knight cursing her out for not following orders than if she stumbled into the first one.

  An image of Gavin in nothing but long red knickers waggling his finger flashed through her head. It was comical at first, all noodly appendages and steam piping out his nose until her gut pulsed a reminder of his muscles when he climbed that rope. The burn up her cheeks could have started a bonfire on its own. Hayley’s rabid imagination raced to try and fill in the image, but she shook it away at the other end. God only knew what he’d do or think if he found out she thought of him nearly naked.

  Trying to wipe it all away, Hayley darted towards the smaller fire. She had to move carefully, tent lines threatening to trip her up as they all dove for the ground at varying angles. Weaving in and out, Hayley listened for the muted voices. They weren’t whispering but they weren’t drunkenly carousing either, almost as if they weren’t worried about being caught but didn’t want to risk it.

  At the edge of the flames, Hayley glanced in to find felled trees standing in for chairs. A few faces she’d seen schlepping back and forth over the would-be battlefield caught her sight. There was Abed digging his fingers into the bark and chattering away. And…

  Shit. Her hair looked practically demonic by the firelight, Larissa calmly worrying her hands through her braid while she had her leg perched perfectly in place. It was one of those lady sits, where the ankles were crossed. It looked rather stupid as Larissa was in her livery and hose, and not some fluffy dress. But the girl was smiling wide, her cheeks blushing from the heat of the fire they all circled around.

  Hayley did not need that. Sleep and working through words sounded way better. She began to back up, easing from the light, when her entire spine went warm. The chill of summer’s night was replaced by heat, a body heat that climbed way above her. Crap. Did Gavin follow her?

  Gulping, she spun in place to come face to face with… Marco?

  The boy’s eyes opened wide, his massive paw digging across the back of his neck as he spotted her. At Hayley’s unexpected turn, he slunk away — more like lumbered. Someone his size was incapable of slinking. “H…hi,” Marco shouted, his voice pinging from a deep growl up to a glass-shattering soprano.

  “Yeah,” she flexed her face, testing to make certain she didn’t go deaf from that blast, “Hello Marco.”

  A great smile rose on his face as if she performed a trick by remembering his name. “Were,” the boy danced in a box, right leg crossing in front of left before he wound up back where he began. “Were you going to…I was heading to the, um,” beads of sweat visible even in the shadows of the tents built up on his wide skull, “the squires!”

  Hayley winced again, wishing he’d be quieter. “I…”

  “Hey Marco,” a never before heard voice called from the pile of friendly logs. Hayley spun back to spot it came from a girl, older than most, with light-brunette hair pinned in a bun at the crown of an egg-shaped head. “Who’s your friend?”

  “It’s Hayley!” Marco shouted, dooming her forever. She tried to not groan as the gentle giant stomped forward. Before he managed too far ahead of her, Marco paused and extended a hand at the gathering.

  Running away now was impossible. Lifting her head high, Hayley walked towards the gathered group. By the light, she spotted about fifteen heads, some of them she recognized. Others…

  “I’m guessing you’re Hayley,” the girl said. She wore a Serpent uniform but there were a few more shiny bits stuck to the shoulders and down the front. Her cheeks dented deep, drawing to almost skull levels from the fire’s shadows, but there was an easy nature in her eyes. Rounder than grapes, the girl seemed to be incapable of shrewdness, unlike the viper perched beside her. Larissa’s eyes darted once up to Hayley before she spat out “Hayseed” under her breath.

  “Yep,” Hayley said right to the new stranger, “that’s me.”

  “I’m Tish,” she said pointing at herself. “Tieasha, but please, Tish. Have a seat.” Her welcoming hand wafted towards one of the emptier logs.

  Hayley nodded her head at Abed who paused in destroying the log and glanced up. He gave a little noise and less than obviously slid further away. Trying to act as if she felt no offense in the world, Hayley perched upon the log and jammed both her hands to her knees.

  “So, first time at one of these?” Tish asked, clearly taking the lead on the conversation.

  Hayley shrugged. “Been here for three days but never stood outside a castle and looked real smug before now. Not on purpose, at least.”

  That caused Tish to snicker, her hand patting into the bottom of a mug. God, that sounded good. Did she have to steal one from the knight’s camp or was there a flagon around here? A scoff broke from Larissa who ceased upbraiding her braid and flung it over her shoulders.

  “Hayseed’s with our group, barely been a squire for more than what, a week?”

  “Two,” she spat out, her jaw flexing. The entire log shifted under her and Hayley turned away from Larissa to find Marco collapsed beside her. The boy was so tall his legs were akimbo to fit, a knee skirting near Hayley.

  “Really? All of two? Are you including the amount of time when you were splayed out on your ass because I’m not sure that’s fair?” Larissa kept stabbing that knife in deeper, the pair of them glaring at each other. Hayley may not know much about taking down an opponent, but she could be an expert hair puller. Give that braid one good yank and…

  “Her knight is Ser Gavin,” Marco suddenly blurted out, his jaw wide as he finished, but the eyes darting over the two of them. Was it his job to keep the girls from fighting? Doubtful his knight would care, seemed Calvin couldn’t see past his nose. Oh god, or was it Gavin who sent him to keep an eye on her?

  “Really?” Tish scooted closer, bark flaking off from the move and falling to the ground in chunks. “You’re Ser Gavin’s squire?” Dumbly, Hayley nodded, a hand digging up her arm. She feared the same once-over she’d always get from Larissa. You’re too skinny. You’re too weak. You’re a waste of time and flesh.

  “Lord shine his light on me,” Tish muttered, “that man is…” She coughed to herself and waved a free hand to her cheeks. “And you get to dress him every day?”

  “He handles most of…” Hayley began before she paused and smiled slyly. With a snicker on her lips and one eye watching the fuming Larissa, Hayley leaned towards Tish, “Yup. Past three days, all that armor. On and off. Then on. Then off again.”

  “Oh Saints above us. I was there, at the Battle of Lochmist when he…well, I doubt you need to be told, you’re his squire,” Tish said with a dismissive wave but Hayley frowned. She didn’t know a damn thing about some Battle or whatever Lochmist was. “Not that my knight isn’t without skill, but watching Ser Gavin move through the lines, cutting them down as if he were slicing apart butter.” Her musings paused and she raised her mug to Hayley, “You are a lucky girl.”

  “Uh, yeah, I guess,” Hayley sighed. She was getting tired of everyone telling her how lucky she was just to be around a man who told her to do this and do that. All he taught her so far was the alphabet — somewhat, how to feed geese — quickly and with shin guards, and that she was damn good at falling on her ass. How did Larissa even know that? Were they talking about her behind her back? Did Frederick…? No, he seemed too nice to stoo
p to that. No doubt she took a random shot in the dark.

  “Hey,” Tish waved a hand through the smoke, “someone get Hayley here a mug. We’re celebrating already!”

  “I will,” Marco mumbled, stumbling up to his full height which had to shove stars up his nose. With a slow amble, he walked towards what Hayley noticed was a flagon.

  “If you’ve been here the whole time, how come it’s your first night with the crew?” Tish asked.

  “Didn’t know this was out here,” Hayley shrugged. “When we arrived it was just a few people and a cart crammed with supplies.”

  “Really?” Larissa spoke up, her voice oozing, “My knight told me about it while we were on the road.”

  “Who’s yours again?” Tish asked.

  “Ser Frederick,” Larissa said quickly. Tish scrunched her face up in thought and nodded.

  “Oh, right. Ah, anyway, Gavin. There’s been talk that he’s going to cinch the entire tourney this year,” Tish fully turned from Larissa, who pouted, to Hayley.

  Above her, Hayley felt a mug drift into view. She cupped her hands around it and stared higher, “Thanks.” Marco muttered something she couldn’t hear, his backside crumpling beside her. This time he sat a bit closer, which required him to stretch his long leg out lest it whack into Hayley.

  Placing the cracked and dented clay mug to her lip, Hayley gave a quick slurp of whatever was inside. Barley stung her tongue, a mealy bounce of bubbles dripping over her throat and heading to her stomach. Wiping off her mouth, Hayley felt a dozen eyes peering at her. What the hell did they want?

  With a shrug, she asked, “Is there any alcohol in this?”

  Tish snickered. “Got the belly for being a knight already, have you?”

  “This is nothing on what I used to swipe from behind…” back alley hootch dens. Stills made from whatever they could find, barely lasting a few weeks before something caught on fire. Hayley’s terrified eyes darted up as she realized she nearly gave everything away. “My handler’s back,” she said, her lips flattening out in a forced smile.

  Thankfully, Tish broke into a laugh so she must have guessed right. “Oh, tell me about it. The contraband I’d have to move in my younger days.”

  Probably not the same Hayley knew how to squirrel away. Unless there were more like her in the squires than she originally thought. Was that why Tish was being so nice? Did she sense another pickpocket among them?

  “What is your background, precisely,” a voice colder than a winter morning in the gutter cut through. Larissa sat up higher, her hands piled in her lap as she said, “We never did learn it, Hayseed. You seemed to have disappeared while we were all getting to know one another.” The viper’s eyes darted up to Marco and Abed. The latter’s head bobbed a bit in agreement while Marco remained stoically silent, though the hand he locked to his knee was trembling. Maybe the big guy was scared of the dark.

  “I…” Hayley raised herself up higher.

  “Clearly you weren’t trained, or if you were that school and its instructors should be run through.” Larissa dabbed the tip of her pinkie to her lips, savoring how she jammed her verbal spikes in. Hayley’s eyes darted to Tish, but the girl was clearly just listening and not about to leap in to stop this.

  “So, what is your story? It must be interesting for someone like you to wind up as a squire.”

  Wrapping her fingers tight to the mug, Hayley’s mind whirred through any possible choice. She caught a glimmer of her reflection drowned in the ale, a pocked cheek burned red from the firelight. “I read about it on a poster,” she spat out through gritted teeth.

  “A…a poster?” Larissa stumbled.

  Nodding her head slowly, Hayley clung tighter to her whopper. “Yep, thought I might as well see what was up and wandered in. I guess I impressed them enough I didn’t need all of your fancy training from…where, again?”

  Her eyes burned death threats at Hayley, but Larissa stuck her chin out far. “Ostmount Academy for Gifted Girls.”

  “Oh,” Tish suddenly turned to her, lavishing Larissa in the attention she demanded, “were you an OG Butterfly?” When Larissa nodded her head, Tish laughed. “I was a peacock, for damn near four years.”

  “You must have had Ms. Trevelyan as your chaperone,” Larissa squealed, both girls quickly finding something to bond over. While Hayley had…darkness. No one would share in her past, anyone who did was probably nutty in the brain and sure as shit wouldn’t talk about it. No one wanted to talk to her either, not beyond “Oh, your boss is so dreamy, and talented, and I want him to do knight things to me.” No one liked her.

  Tipping back the mug as far as she could, Hayley downed the half pint in one or two glugs. She didn’t even bother wiping off her mouth, spraying a massive belch towards the fire. There must have been enough alcohol as the flames sparkled in the air, racing towards her, but Hayley waved it all away with her hand. She was tired, sore, and in no mood for such backdraft.

  Barely staring at anyone around her, Hayley staggered to her feet. She moved to slide over the log, her hands wrapping around to try and steady herself, when Tish said, “Leaving already?”

  “My knight’s an early sleeper,” Hayley threw out. Usually that was true, but judging by the itinerary the others laid out before him, Hayley doubted she’d see Gavin until morning. Probably in a ditch with no trousers on. Oh god. A blush clawed up her cheeks and into her hair at the thought.

  With her peace and lousy excuse laid out, she began to stomp out towards the tents. Get away, curl up in a bundle, and plan. Work on how to get out of all of this without being dead. That was what mattered. Impressing people…psh, that was a fool’s foolish thing of foolish. It was stupid.

  “Hayley,” Tish’s soft voice caused her to stop and glance back, “you’re lucky to have Gavin as your knight. He’s skilled beyond his years, beyond nearly every knight I’ve seen. You must be special.”

  Shit. Her cheeks burned hotter from both the misplaced compliment and Larissa trying to start her on fire from the vengeful glare. “Thanks,” Hayley waved limply, wanting to get as far from them as possible. Sure, she’s special, the way a clump of hair and old fat you find stuck to the drain is special. You don’t want it, but it doesn’t happen every day either.

  Hayley wiggled her way towards the cool tents, a hand glancing to her forehead. Okay, maybe there was a wee bit more alcohol in that glass than she first thought. And you are such a lightweight. You know that but you always talk bigger than you are. Talk tougher, talk and talk and talk. All they do is talk and talk. Words like weapons, every syllable jabbing and ripping apart like that scary looking axe Gavin kept her away from.

  “Whoa!” Hayley felt her body suddenly lurch to the side. She lashed a hand out for the tent only to find there was no rope there. Crap. Her balance tilted and the last thing she needed was to once again fall anywhere near Larissa. Hayley reached limply again, only for a bear paw to cling to her boney shoulder.

  “What the…?” Hayley whipped her head around, which was the dumbest thing she could do. Vision swimming with fiery fishes, it took her a few swallows until she recognized Marco’s stone-carved face right beside hers. “Holy...!” She leapt back before calming herself. “Oh, it’s you. What are you…?”

  “I thought,” the boy’s hands fell far from her body, both randomly patting his chest, elbows, arms, each other. They were all over the place. “You seemed, I didn’t want. I was…the drink and in the dark there were…”

  God, this was impossible to follow. Marco’s blabbing bashed through her skull like crossbow bolts. Leaning forward, Hayley gently slapped her whole palm to his lips. The boy’s jabbering jaw froze, his eyes widening as both darted straight down to her. It took her a minute to catch her balance, savoring the blissful silence. Under her finger, the still flesh grew warmer. It had to be her eyes still trembling that caused a burn to rise up Marco’s olive tan skin.

  “What?” Hayley sputtered out, when a great burst of light broke from behind. Ma
rco’s head lifted so high her hand fell off. She too turned to find whatever caused it, but there didn’t seem to be any great fires beyond the controlled ones of before. The darkness remained as it always had. As it always would.

  Like splitting open the night sky and lobbing the sun right upon the horizon, a flash of yellow and white burned above the castle walls. Hayley winced at the assault on her eyes, her fist trying to rub the pain away. What the hell did that mean? She turned to ask her fellow squire, but he was blinking madly and shaking his head.

  “We have to get to our knights, to the tents to prepare,” Marco gasped. He didn’t seem to notice that he’d locked his arms protectively around Hayley’s shoulders. There was no chance she could shake him off, so she waited, her head jerking towards the grip.

  Startled at the realization of what he did, he flung both far, then began to dash towards what had to be Ser Calvin’s tent. Cupping a hand to her mouth, Hayley shouted, “Why?” Around her, she began to hear the change. The drunken stupors were shrugged off, the voices that’d been blissfully singing changed to sharp clangs or orders.

  Her brain supplied the answer just before Marco shouted, “Battle has begun.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Fingers trembling, Hayley bashed the vambrace into Gavin’s back on accident. Her knight barely reacted, his lips pursed to nearly bone white as she tried to steady herself to tie the damn armor bit on.

  Lucky for her, she just beat Gavin back after the signal went out, giving her time to leap from the tent at his shout for armor. Every other round he’d waited patiently while she fumbled through it. Now his spine was locked in tight, his eyes slits while glaring at her to hurry up.

  She sobered up real quick as the truth began to dawn on her. Everything before was pageantry, parading around for the whim of some fancy titled Earl or Duke. This was…real. There’d be blood, and organs scattered across the bent grass, and death. She shouldn’t be here, she didn’t know a damn thing about fighting. A damn thing about anything.