Paladin's Oath

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Paladin's Oath Page 1

by M. H. Johnson




  Paladin’s Oath

  The Risen Queen - Book 4

  M H Johnson

  Copyright © 2018 by M H Johnson

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Thank You

  1

  “The Dawn summons her queen, my mistress. It is time for you to awaken once more, and embrace the day.”

  Jess opened her eyes to the gentle pat of her familiar's paw, feeling strangely refreshed and in good spirits, having savored her first night's sleep free of bad dreams since she had awakened at the roots of the sacred tree upon Highrock's rooftop garden, several months ago.

  “Are we feeling better?” Mused a purring Twilight, eyes half closed with delight as Jess gently tended to him, stroking his lustrous fur, scratching wherever she sensed he might have an itch. Jess smiled and dipped her face into his soft fur, soothed by his warmth, comfort, and counsel, as she had been all her life.

  "I am feeling better," Jess admitted. "The nightmares have finally started to ease, and, well, I think it's been good for me, sparring with Father and Gregory, tending to the fields, caring for my garden. It's been amusing seeing Gregory flirt with the help like a schoolboy when Mother's not looking, to say nothing of reconnecting with Apple, sharing our hopes and dreams. I think, I think it's bringing me a certain measure of peace. But to be honest, Twilight, I find myself restless and craving a life of adventure once more.” She grinned. "To tell you the truth, as much as I needed this time of rest, I'm halfway tempted to sneak back to Highrock even now."

  Her familiar dipped his head. "I noticed, the way you were hammering those cast iron covered dummies with fiercest abandon in your training room, raining down blows with your bar mace that would stun or kill even the most carefully armored knight, if he were of mere mortal stock. You train with the fierce dedication of a Delver preparing herself to face the horrors of Shadow once more, and no doubt your heavy exertions are helping you to sleep through the night.”

  Jess gave a wry chuckle at that. “It was also good sparring with father and brother the other day in earnest. Finding that I could fence with them, control my blows, as long as I’m careful, and as long as my idiot brother doesn’t catch me off guard trying to rush me!” She gave vent to a wistful sigh then, snuggling deep into her bed, holding her familiar close. “It sounds strange I know, but as much as I wish to be free, I’m desperate to hold my home, my family, close to my heart.”

  Even as she said the words she caught a glimpse of herself in the full body mirror brought home from Highrock, catching sight of a fit looking girl with faint scars upon high cheekbones, lush, full lips, a mane of rich, fiery red hair, and eyes that glittered like rubies as the light danced across the glass. Jess winced and turned away, promising herself to cover her mirror once more.

  Her cat flashed a toothy grin, catching her gaze with his brilliant sapphire eyes. “This from the girl who moments ago spoke of fleeing to Highrock in search of fresh adventures. I, for one, think keeping your family close a fine idea. Especially if you were able to find the man of your dreams at one of your parent’s infrequent galas. You would have a lovely wedding, with more flowers in bloom than the king himself could claim. You could spend many a happy year nurturing your garden, walking the forests and fields that make up your father’s barony, cute little sons and daughter firmly in tow, no doubt.” He bobbed his head thoughtfully. “That is my hope, dear Jess. But sometimes fate has other cards hidden, aside from the ones we are obviously dealt, and I fear this may be one of those times."

  Jess instantly sat up, gazing intently at her enigmatic familiar. “Twilight, what do you know?”

  Her cat, however, seemed lost in the flickering multihued glow of the fire from the brass stove that served to heat Jess's rooms, and the fact that Jess had never needed to add a second log to the flame was something her family was careful never to comment upon. The multicolored flames were, however, quite pretty. On that everyone agreed, and Jess would sometimes catch her familiar staring deeply into the fire, as if gazing off upon fantastic sights only he could see.

  “I know these are dangerous times, my Jess,” he said softly. “A dark game is afoot, and many pieces are in play. As to what the rules are, and who the teams are comprised of, I'm still working on that." He casually began grooming himself before pausing again to look up at his bemused master. "And you, my dear Jess, are a valuable piece indeed. I fear one side or the other is going to want to put you and your Circle in play."

  “Are they safe?” Jess asked, suddenly nervous for the sake of her companions, thinking of Josie and Raphael, more devoted to each other than ever after having escaped dire peril, and Alex and Jera now with a little one of their own, determined to embrace lives both peaceful and happy with their newborn daughter safe by their side.

  “As far as I know,” Twilight assured. “And don’t worry, Jess. I would know.”

  “I have no doubt of that,” Jess said, having long ceased to be amazed at the breadth of her familiar’s many curious talents. Seeming to pluck forth useful bits of information out of the very ether being but one of his many skills.

  Her cat stretched and rolled over, his eyes insisting that more gentle petting was in order. “In any event… ah, yes, Jess. Scratch right there… perfect. In any case, I think this rest is doing you a lot of good. And yes, I think you should perhaps agree to accompany your mother and sister to one of the local lord’s galas. True, northern Erovering is not exactly cosmopolitan, but most of the lords residing within Calenbry owe direct fealty to your father, so are unlikely to behave too boorishly to any lady attending, even if they don't know who you are. So why not dip your toes in fresh water? I think you will find the gatherings possess a certain quaint charm all their own.”

  Jess nodded. “And Mother never did get around to formally introducing me to polite society while I was at Highrock, so I don't have to worry about a bunch of lickspittles sucking up to me or proposing to me, as long as I ca
n attend unannounced.” Jess then grinned at her familiar. “And Lord Turnsby, to whom Mother just received an invitation, made his fortune as a fishmonger and is renowned for stocking the choicest morsels at his gatherings, reason enough for any fish lover to swoon.”

  "Oh goodness, yes!" Twilight shamelessly admitted. "Can you just imagine how fresh and tasty those fillets will be?" Her cat shivered in delicious anticipation. "Accept the invitation, Jess. We must go! We will feast. It will be delicious. And maybe you will meet a handsome lordling who is not a lickspittle. You never know."

  Jess grinned and kissed her cat on his forehead. “For you, kitty. Only for you.”

  Agda beamed with unreserved pleasure to see her oldest daughter arrive at breakfast bright and early. Jess was happy to see her mother looking refreshed and in good spirits, golden locks framing a smile beautiful and timeless. To Jess, her mother was just as elegant and beautiful as when she had first left for Highrock, what sometimes seemed a lifetime ago. Her father, she thought, was a very lucky man indeed.

  Within moments several more plates were brought to the table emitting delicious aromas of salted pork, toast, and poached eggs. Jess dug in, pleased to see that the carafes were indeed filled with chilled milk, drinking deep of the refreshing brew, enjoying the fragrance of wildflowers blossoming in the field just beyond the grand dining hall, windows opened to allow for a refreshing morning breeze.

  “Morning, Flametop,” Jess's sister greeted her, mischievous grin dimpling her lightly freckled cheeks even as she fussed with her own sleek mane of rich auburn hair.

  Jess smiled, knowing she would never live down her sister's favorite new nickname for her, deciding to let it be a point of familiarity instead of contention between them. For reasons understood yet never spoken of aloud, she made no mention of her sister's own auburn hair, so very different from either of their parents' silky blond manes. In her heart of hearts, Jess knew that her sister's teasing was actually a sort of relief to her. To the entire family, actually. For if Jess's once golden blond hair spontaneously changed color, maybe there were redheads buried in the family tree popping out in their generation. Maybe Appolonia's own origins weren't nearly so scandalous as certain servitors who had long since left the barony's service had once gossiped about.

  Arthur de Calenbry was the most loyal of men, and if his youngest daughter's auburn curls and piercing green eyes mirrored the king's, he had never shamed the family by saying it aloud, and had never lost the king's favor. The favor of a man that could send their entire family to the headsman's block with the merest whisper of treason. It was a fiercely dangerous game they played at all times, and all of them knew it.

  Save for those mocking servants that Jess was grimly certain her father had dealt with as ruthlessly as any commander faced with soldiers guilty of treason, no one had dared to shame their family by voicing rumors of Apple's origins. It was an open secret, of course. The entire Lords Council knew, but no one, not even their enemies, had ever been so gauche as to mock them aloud and risk the potentially lethal displeasure of the Crown, even if they did not fear the enmity of the Calenbry clan itself.

  One thing Jess knew with fierce certainty was that her mother adored her father, loved her family more than anything in the world, and would do anything to protect them. Anything at all.

  All of this Jess processed in the time it took her to flash her teasing sister a gentle smile. “Morning, Apple. How are the eggs?”

  Agda, of course, was ecstatic to hear of Jess’s blossoming interest in the social aspects of being a lady, and Jess didn’t think it prudent, just yet, to tell her mother her true motive for going to the Turnsby gala. “Jess, that is wonderful! I am so glad to find my beautiful young rose is finally coming out of her shell.”

  “I think you’re mixing metaphors, Mother,” Jess teased.

  “Nonsense! I’m the mother of two precious pearls, and I want to see you both blossom into womanhood and society successfully. Now let me summon our seamstress and make sure you have something suitably lovely to wear. We only have a week or so to prepare!”

  Jess traded a look with her sister whose smile matched her own, green eyes twinkling mischievously. “Certainly, Mother. And of course, we want to make sure my attire is suitable for someone of my background, yes?”

  “Of course, my daughter. But you need not fear any social awkwardness at this gala. Dear Lady Sissela Turnsby is a fine woman, her father served your own during the Border Wars, and her family feels nothing but gratitude towards our clan. She will consider it a high honor to have you grace her gala, whatever your attire.”

  “Excellent,” Jess grinned. “I’m glad to know a split dress suitable for fencing will not be a problem for our dear seamstress.”

  Her mother blinked. “Jess. You do understand this is a gala, Yes? A chance to relax and socialize and hopefully make some new friends. My dear, I hardly think you will need your sword, pretty as it is! Oh honey, if nothing else, you will trip over it horribly during the dances! And you do want to dance, don’t you, darling? I’d so love to see your elegant grace be directed at other pursuits besides swordplay.”

  Jess smiled. “If that is your concern, worry no further. All the young lords of Highrock were trained to dance as gentlemen with swords on their hip. And since Erica and I wore leggings as did all of Eloquin's protégés, it was no problem for us to join the dances. But we never had to dance in dresses.” Jess's amused expression suddenly became serious. “And Mother? Just so we have no misunderstandings, I’m not going anywhere without my sword.”

  Her mother frowned. “And I suppose you’ll be wanting to wear your mithril mail shirt as well.”

  Jess grinned. “Of course!”

  “Oh for the love of angels, Jess. Why do you have to make everything so difficult?” The baroness sighed, shaking her head. “Fine. I am sure the seamstress can make us a lovely padded blouse, and we can use some silk ties to keep your mail form-fitting so as not to wreck the curves of your figure…”

  "Curves?" Apple snickered. "Mother, she's all muscle! The first thing any gentleman is going to notice is how wide her shoulders are. No corset is going to change that!"

  “Apple, please! Your sister is a gorgeous creature. The right man will swoon at the opportunity to dance with her, healthy figure aside or no!”

  “I never said Flametop wasn’t pretty. Just that there is no point trying to corset her up to make her into a dainty little doll. That’s not her style at all.

  Jess sighed and stretched. “Apple is right, Mother. There is no point trying to doll me up like a little figurine. A boy will either like me or he won’t. So he'd better get used to me being a better fighter than he is, because I’m not going to turn into a simpering little butterfly for him or anyone else. Hmm… on second thought, how about I just wear one of my Highrock uniforms? More comfortable all around.”

  Apple’s eyes crinkled up in mirth, though their mother looked shocked. “Jess, be serious! Honestly my dear, it hardly seems like you are interested in making a good impression in society at all.”

  Jess shrugged. “I’m not, really.”

  Apple shook her head at that, chewing on an apple fritter as they made their way through breakfast. “Then why are you even going, sis?”

  Jess grinned. “I’m just in it for the fishies.”

  “What?”

  "Lord Turnsby. He's a renowned fishmonger, isn't he? I hear he serves some of the tastiest fish entrees in the kingdom!"

  Apple stopped chewing, looking around for something she couldn’t see. “Let me guess, you’re not going for yourself at all. Are you, Jess?”

  Jess smirked. “Of course not. Twilight just wants to crash it and grab some fillets. Then we’re out.”

  Apple started laughing, spraying fritter crumbs everywhere and Jess joined her. Their mother just rolled her eyes,sighing the long-suffering sigh Jess could only guess was shared by mothers everywhere. "For the love of Justice. Fine, Jess. Wear whatever you like. Just s
o long as you get out of the house!"

  And exactly one week later, Jess found herself in her family's most expensive and comfortable carriage of the latest design, using steel leaf springs to absorb the shock and vibrations of the road. That and the plush thick padding of their carriage benches allowed for a very smooth ride indeed. Jess was pleasantly surprised, and shifted her sheathed blade ever so slightly, crossing her fine silken leggings and snuggling back in her cushioned seat for maximum comfort.

  She couldn’t help smiling smugly as she gazed at her sister and mother across from her, looking the more than a bit uncomfortable in their plush, voluminous dresses as they fanned themselves with their non-card carrying hands, both a bit flushed within the stuffy carriage.

  “Oh really, must you gloat, sis?” Apple huffed, laying down a six of spades on the small card table between their plush benches.

  Jess grinned, stretching, making light of how comfortable her college formals were, compared to her sister’s dress. “Only a little,” she teased. “And thanks for the six. I have a straight!”

  Apple gazed at Jess’s hand and sighed, plopping her own cards on the table. Her mother gave Jess a calculated glance and shook her head. “You should have raised, dear. Your sister would have bit, and you’d be several feathers ahead.” Her mother tossed her own hand down, a pair of eights and a queen high.

 

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