Paladin's Oath

by M. H. Johnson

  Jess had only to gaze at her younger sister in animated discussion with Onnika, posture and temperament so very like their mother, for all that her auburn curls and piercing green eyes were a mirror of the king's, to know just how true their father's words were. Arthur had never been other than the most loving of fathers, treating all his children with equal care, and the Crown had only ever turned a benign eye to the goings on of the largest barony in the kingdom.

  The baron of Calenbry gave a solemn shake of his head. "The true fear is that, to some people's minds, your rekindling to life ancient rites long thought lost to time could have unforeseen consequences. Should one without a noble's rank and the Crown's blessing ever be granted Claimance over lands controlled by another lord, or worse, the king himself, such would open the floodgates of insurrection, and risk the horror of civil war."

  Jess shuddered, sickened by the thought of being used as a tool of discord, having studied far too many accounts of war not to know that there would be a hideous cost in lives and suffering, should the flames of rebellion be allowed to spread through Erovering unchecked.

  Her father flashed Jess a reassuring smile. "Fear not, daughter. Well do I know the nobility of your character, how you have trained for years to be a soldier of Erovering without peer, risking your very life, repeatedly, to protect her lands and her institutions. And others of influence have also done their part to assure that your noble acts and sense of honor are known far and wide. Fortunate indeed it is that the Adventurers Guild has played such a sympathetic advocate to your tale, emphasizing your use of ancient rites as having been vital in pulling the Turnsby estates back from the brink of eternal nightmare. Indeed, the Guild has reminded us all that, according to the oldest legends, Rites of Domain and Primacy were tools that helped defend our lands from the most dire incursions of Shadow, during an era when slipping from the bright light of day into darkest nightmare were not simply tales told over the hearth fire, but a very real danger for many a traveler."

  He sighed then, wrapping his powerful arms around his daughter and holding her close. “And for all that a number of concerned parties have done their utmost to vouch for you, let us just say that more than one voice had let it be known that they thought it for the best if you had made your final foray into the land of dreams, to be safely ensconced in legend as a noble icon, and not burden the nobility with the inconvenience of an unknown force that could well tip the balance in the political games of power forever being played.”

  Jess grimaced at her father's words. “So any number of lords would, not to put too fine a point on it, be quite happy to see me dead, if it saved them from even having to worry about an upset to the status quo.” Jess laughed bitterly. “How does that old adage go, Father? No good deed goes unpunished.”

  Her father gave a gentle shake of his head, though his cynical smile made it clear he wasn't disagreeing with his daughter's bitter assessment. “We knew all too well the precariousness of your situation. Even if you came back to us, there was great risk that you would, at the least, become a tool of the king, forever carefully monitored, living life not according to your whim, but his own. And even I know you cannot force a paladin to grant Claimance to another for something as base as political gain. It must be a just grant, a connection between the grantee and the land that resonates with the echoes of the ancient rites of passage that forged these lands, eons ago. Even the king must know this, so I suspect the end result would be your life lived in a golden cage.”

  Her father sighed, pulling away to gaze fondly at his daughter. “No doubt you would be granted a most exquisite garden. He would certainly allow you that much. But your life would no longer be your own.”

  Arthur's voice turned grim, his gaze pained. “And at the worst, you would be considered an unmanageable risk, and pretext would be made to remove the threat, no doubt some assertion of treachery would be made in regards to our entire family, backed by planted evidence and falsified records. And as they could not risk exile, for fear of your abilities being too easily used to mount a rebellion against the established order, we would no doubt be tried and sentenced for a capital crime.”

  Jess had shuddered. “You mean they would kill our entire family, we who had served our kingdom loyally for generations, with no thought of loyalty, duty, honor, or justice, simply as a matter of cold political expediency? We no more than an afterthought in the great game of castles they play?” She clenched down on her own outrage, having known on some level just how cold and ruthless a game politics truly was, underneath the battle hymns and idealism that spurred so many young soldiers to fight for their country.

  Her father's gaze was flinty. "Did you ever doubt, daughter? Idealist that I know you to be, I know I raised no fools. I know that you have already seen more than your fair share of how ugly and treacherous a man's soul can be, as a Squire of War." He smiled gently into Jess's trembling gaze. "No, my daughter, you need break no confidences, you need not bear your soul. I would simply remind you that your fellow nobleman can be every bit as ruthless and ugly as the vilest band of slavers that the Crown denies even exist, before Eloquin's Chosen proceed to make the king's wish a reality."

  Jess had turned away then, afraid even to speak. Of course her father knew. How could he not? He and Eloquin had strategized together at the king's very table, when their nation had been at war.

  “Daughter, fret not, there is hope,” her father soothed. “Your mother and I are all too aware of the machinations of Court, and know to prepare for the worst. We would be poor parents indeed to squander the chance to assure your safety. We knew from the very start that should you return to the land of the living, we must immediately take steps to mitigate the perception that you are any sort of threat. Going off to finishing school, a humble girl so shaken by what she has been forced to see and do that she appears but a shadow of her former self, seemed the best approach to take.”

  Her father gently squeezed her shoulder. “It is all a matter of perception my dear, but were you to appear a defanged wolf, harmless to all, no one would have cause to fear you, and the guise of meekness can sometimes be the most deadly tool in a noble's arsenal.”

  Jess grimaced at the thought.

  “Let the world think your powers only manifest in Shadow, as Turnsby had been sinking into when you came to its rescue. Let the world think you but a meek and awkward girl in times of normalcy and calm.” Her father's eyes bored into her own. “They can even embrace the fantasy that your status as a Delver only means that you are part of an honored guild of performers playing out ancient tales, and nothing more than that. Far better we embrace the perception of meekness, my daughter, and you be forced to endure a petty girl's taunts, than risk the alternative.”

  Jess trembled before her father's gaze, unable to look away, unable to discount the validity of his argument, for all that the thought of abasing herself before the shallow sniping harridans which she was sure finishing schools were absolutely chocked full off filled her with a sick sense of dread.

  The baron of Calenbry clasped his daughter in a gentle hug. “Daughter, it is only for one year. One year enduring the games of politics and posturing, then freedom. Freedom to do as you will! So that neither gilded cage nor headsman’s axe awaits you.”

  Against such undeniable logic, for the sake of her family, there was no way Jess could refuse. Her father’s grateful smile made it clear he had had no doubt of her commitment to those she loved, but was relieved, nonetheless, to see her nod.

  “I will go, Father. But while I am at our estates during semester brakes, and indeed, after one year at that school, I would like the use of my armaments without stricture.”

  Her father nodded. “Of course, my daughter. Now I think it is time we both got some rest, for we have an early ride back home on the morrow. Goodnight, Jessica. I really am proud of you, you know.” He then kissed her brow, and if he sensed Onnika slipping inside as he left, he said not a word.

  It was a poignant fare
well she and Onnika had shared that night in each other’s arms. Onnika's smile had been sweet, her kisses and caresses even sweeter, but Jess feared it might be the last time she would see her young lover in a very long time.

  “I’m going off to finishing school,” Jess had laughed softly, stroking Onnika’s back after they had both sated themselves utterly, enjoying the gentle languor of tender kisses as sleep gradually overtook them. “Imagine that.”

  "You will be fine," Onnika had declared with a gentle kiss. "I have confidence in you, my dear Jess. My brave knight can best any foe! Whether it be inhuman monster or sniping shrew. You will triumph, I know it."

  “It would be so sweet if you could come with me,” Jess had sighed.

  Onnika's chuckle had been wicked. "It would. However, I am already well acquainted with the school your father is sending you to. And I'm afraid I was expelled from there for being caught in flagrante delicto."

  “Really!” Jess had smiled in amusement. “I can’t imagine what you would have done that would have gotten you summarily expelled!”

  Onnika’s answering grin had made Jess shudder with sweet anticipation, her desire rekindled near instantly by her lover's sultry gaze. “Let me show you what I did, dear Jess. On the outer grounds, no less; where, alas, it hadn’t been quite as dark as I had thought at the time.” And Onnika proceeded to do just that, much to Jess’s exquisite delight.

  Sweet as the night had been, the next morning Jess had felt a bitter taste in her mouth, waking up to cool sheets and a farewell note. She feared the final sweet memories of the night before was to be their farewell, Onnika having made herself scarce as well during a farewell breakfast that tasted like ashes.

  It was only just as Jess was leaving with a heavy heart that Onnika made her presence known with a cry as she launched herself into Jess’s arms, hugging her fiercely, just before they left. “I didn’t want to say goodbye. I was afraid it would hurt too much.” Onnika admitted, smiling through her tears. “But I couldn’t stand to see you leave without…”

  Jess had smiled gently through her own tears and held her sweet lover close. Her family had the grace to wait silently for some moments before Jess had at last let her beautiful Onnika go with a final kiss, stroking her rich blond locks and cheek with a parting caress before entering her family's carriage and leaving with the clopping of horses' hooves and memories both bitter and sweet.

  26

  "Jess? Really, it won't be that bad." Jess looked up, gazing listlessly into her sister's sympathetic eyes as their well-sprung carriage rode gently along the high road towards home. She didn't even try to smile, just sighed before staring out the carriage window once more, gazing listlessly upon forest and field slowly passing by.

  “It’s a hard time for your sister right now, Apple,” Agda said, also gazing sympathetically at her oldest daughter. “What Jess doesn't realize yet is that years from now she might look back and find that she actually enjoyed the time she spent at the Royal Ladies Academy. The lessons she learned, the friends she made, the skills acquired, once she got over her initial hesitancy and embraced what the school had to offer.”

  Apple nodded. “It's all going to work out, Jess. Just play nice with the other girls! Even if some are catty, others are more like you than you care to admit.”

  This caught Jess’s interest. “There are other adventurers at the Academy?”

  Apple had laughed. "No, silly! Other girls who are shy and not so versed in the social nuances. I recall one girl of my acquaintance who was much more interested in her arcane studies than in etiquette. She had also complained of attending a finishing school when sharing in our social gatherings, but after a semester at her school so she made peace with it, learning some useful bits of conversational lure that made her appealing to the boys, and becoming quite the card sharp. She already had a good grasp of the liberal arts they taught, and was even granted time to pursue her own arcane studies, once she had mastered the basics of dance and etiquette. Eventually, I think she placed at Highrock, but it took her awhile to convince her parents that her destiny lay with the arcane, and she had become quite the polished lady by the time she had left finishing school.”

  Jess sighed. “I believe it. A few of my classmates came from finishing schools, the really stuck up ones who couldn't stand me. Even they considered Highrock an improvement. I feel like I’m going backwards.”

  “Nonsense!” her mother quickly admonished. “Those girls learned the skills of social grace, the fine arts and etiquette before they attended Highrock. You are simply reversing the order of your studies. No shame in that, my daughter.”

  “But I already took classes in politics and history, philosophy and mathematics,” Jess grumbled.

  “Indeed. And for all your talent with the arts of war and herbalism, your proficiency with those other subjects leaves much to be desired.”

  "But Mother, politics and philosophy are so boring! And I can figure out the logistics of supplies well enough. It all clicks together in my head, no confusing formulas needed, and boy did my professor frown and grimace when I always got the answers right, even though I couldn't use his equations worth a damn! Even Twilight thought they were redundant and stupid. He assured me that he could handle that element of things anyway."

  Jess shook her head. "I know what is important for preparing one's soldiers for an extended campaign. But as far as those other courses are concerned, balancing all those rows of numbers in a ledger, credits and debits and running balances, none of that makes any sense! I swear, I think merchants make half their numbers up! And what's the point of calculating the trajectory of the stars, when we can see them every time we look in the sky? Father taught me the constellations as well as anyone, and I cherished those hours I spent with him. He, at least, was content just to gaze at the heavens with me when those numbers refused to make any sense. And as for dusty tomes of history, I don't want to focus on yesterday, but embrace tomorrow!" Jess's pout turned thoughtful. "Unless, of course, we are talking about military campaigns, which Father's library is full of. Those, at least, are interesting to study, and Master Eloquin says I have quite the head for grasping the nuances of battle."

  Her mother's gaze did not waver. "I see we have much to work on indeed, my daughter. It is becoming increasingly clear that save for swinging your sword and playing in your garden, things you could have done as well at home as at that unforgivably perilous institution, Highrock didn't teach you a thing!"

  “Not to mention you’re completely tone deaf, and your skills at portraiture make me cry a little inside, whenever I see your drawings,” Apple archly added.

  “Not true, Apple. I can sing louder than you, and I'm the fastest artist in Highrock. No one there dares disputes my claim!” Jess deftly pulled out her dagger then, scraping into the playing table a series of inconceivably fast strokes. She was finished, her dagger resheathed, before her mother even had a chance to gasp and pull away. “Five fingers on each hand. Head, torso, two arms, two legs. If I put your name over it, you know exactly who I carved. What else do you need?”

  “Jessica de Calenbry! You will not knife up our card table in a moment of pique!” Her mother’s eyes flashed, and she held out her hand imperiously. Sighing, Jess unfastened her dagger sheath and handed it to her mother.

  Her sister gave a sad shake of her head. “It’s just a stick figure, Jess. A circle for the head and a line for the body. A real artist can make a depiction that looks so much like me that so you don't have to write a name over the head to tell who it represents! And I'm not surprised you have a reputation as the fastest artist at Highrock. Your warrior friends would all just laugh and admire your knife skills, and any boy or girl given to the gentler arts wouldn't dare challenge one of Eloquin's Squires who had just shown off how very capable she was with a blade!"

  Apple smiled. "I know you, Jessica. Even if someone gave you that title in jest, you would still take it as your due."

  "Whatever," Jess grumbled, ev
en as she gently stroked the wooden table, massaging it back into shape, feeling slightly guilty she had nicked it, reminding it of its earlier form.

  “That, on the other hand, is scary impressive,” Apple whispered in some awe, gazing intently at the table that she and her mother had been playing cards on but minutes before.

  Jess looked up. “What? I was just fixing the scratches. You obviously didn’t like my drawing anyway.”

  “Most people can’t do that, Jess.” Apple’s hand was gently stroking the finely polished grains of the carriage table. Of Jess’s impromptu carving, there remained not a trace.

  Jess shrugged. “Plants like me. You already know that, Apple.”

  Apple smirked. “And you claim you’re not a wizard.”

  Jess grinned. "That's right. I can't pull in ethereal strands of magic to weave spellwebs, no matter how hard I try. Can't even cast a single cantrip!"

  “But in your tales, at least, you can see magical spells and sense ghostly traps, and your blooded sword can cut through all eldritch protections. I’d say that still ranks you in the wizard category,” Apple insisted.

  Jess laughed. “Hardly! Call me a talented warrior who can slice through cantrips as well as an opponent’s defenses. At least, in the realm of dreams I can. I’m not claiming to have special abilities in the waking world, save for growing particularly potent herbs.”

  Twilight, comfortably resting on the cushion beside Jess, nodded his head in approval. "Smart thinking. Qualify your gifts. Don't let others know the true extent of them. We want our enemies to underestimate you. Best if our foes don't know you can slice through their magics as easily in the mundane realm as you can within the realm of dreams."