The Arete - Princess-Consort Ch. 03

Chapter Three:

The Knight

The next day's first event was archery afoot, not one of mine, so Vostiv and I waited in my house tent. Laughter and jokes were shared all around, without the macabre undertones of soldiers pre-battle. Then came the jousting, the most popular event by far.

A long rope decorated with flags hung the length of the tilt to separate the contestants as they charged. Three ropes actually, to ensure the hundreds of knights could all tilt multiple times throughout the afternoon.

Both knights rode at each other full speed, attempting to shatter the shield of their opponent or knock her out of her saddle. The former was standard, the latter difficult and unusual. Each contest involved three runs at each other, with the number of shields shattered determining a full, split, or lack of victory. A clear victor would ride against a new challenger, while a lack of victory meant both women would return to the lists and two new competitors would joust.

Probably a hundred knights had ridden when a pattern emerged on the far line. The same knight had bested twelve challengers in a row, in full victories no less. Four or maybe five was considered an exceptionally good run. Twelve was nigh on impossible.

And then she reached fourteen.

Trogox yelled out, "House Laerdya!"

I trotted over with a few dozen distant cousins, watching the knight as she shattered another shield. She wore gray and orange, house colors I didn't recognize.

The other knights seemed to all talk at once.

"We can't let this stand."

"An affront."

"House Rivadya bitch must be cheating."

"You'd risk asking that?"

"For a tilting knight to display her inner shield?"

"Not even if the filthy cheat won the whole tourney."

"Must be steel sheeting inside her shields though."

"So what then?"

The grousing became redundant quickly and seemed to be working to no purpose outside itself. (Apparently, our houses are great rivals, but you couldn't have proven it by me.)

I spoke out clearly, "Send me. I can unhorse her."

Trogox held up her hands up for silence, "What if she unhorses you?"

"I'm a cataphract in the Queen's army. Even stone dead, no one will knock me from Savaran's saddle."

"You might still be beaten."

"I might, but I'm the least of us and untested in the lists. I could fairly be expected to lose and have no House honor lost with me."

"Done. Go. We'll keep planning," she didn't seem to believe in me so much as believe that sending me couldn't hurt, would prove House Laerdya would fearlessly face the unbeaten knight, and would buy time.

Looking at the way the Rivadya knight moved her arms and torso, or didn't rather, I thought her shield was fully wooden and up to code. Her vambraces, however, were welded to her lance hold and to her shield. Not technically against the rules, but very unsporting against others in plate armor.

I did not wear plate armor.

Many challengers had lined up to face her at first, but the line thinned appreciably by the time I joined it, no one seeking a likely loss. I removed my gauntlets, but retained the leather gloves that I wore beneath. Two more opponents got all three of their shields smashed while hers remained pristine. Then I faced the Rivadya knight.

She charged full speed, apparently intent on simply shattering my shield as she had all her earlier challengers.

I ran Savaran slow and a few feet to the outside of the rope, forcing my stiff armored opponent to widen the angle of her lance without changing the height. I dropped my own lance, not planning to strike a shield I couldn't shatter.

As we closed, I slowed Savaran to a near walk. The lack of momentum would help him keep his feet when we collided with his opposite charging at full tilt, but would also grant me a few stolen moments to time my grab.

At the last moment, I turned Savaran away sharply so my opponent's lance would be across my upper body. I pushed hard into the stirrups, squeezed my thighs together so Savaran would stop, and leaned my hips forward so he'd lower his head.

Her lance glinted in the sun's glare for a moment before me. I caught the damned thing in both hands and held on tight while Savaran planted his heavy hooves.

Understand that Savaran is not magical. He is the best warhorse to have ever existed in my biased opinion, but he was of equal weight and breeding with the stallion charging against him. His primary advantage was that I had a plan that we were both executing, one that the horse and rider charging against us were not at all prepared to face and would not react to in concert.

It was also a plan that wouldn't have worked if my steed and I lacked the absolute faith in one another that could only be built of years in training and fighting together.

Savaran held. The lance in my hands snapped as the Rivadya knight's warhorse reared and the unsporting noble tumbled off, head over tail.

The massive crowd roared deafeningly at the unexpected feat of an unknown jouster unhorsing a knight who'd enjoyed such great recent success.

The Rivadya knight was rather unceremoniously helped from the field by her squire and a few servants in gray and orange, her lance pommel and intact shield still affixed in place. I didn't see her again over the course of the tournament and no talk reached me of charges of cheating. Since the technique was now demonstrably defeatable in such an embarrassing way, I imagined the issue was considered moot.

I won traditionally against my next two challengers, both split victories, then lost to the third. I re-entered the lists a dozen or so more times, chalking up more wins than losses as I tilted against twenty some knights, but nothing to suggest that I'd be a jousting prodigy.

With about an hour to sunset, the open lists were halted and royal heralds announced the top sixteen contestants. I was unsurprised when my name wasn't called, since my overall performance was middling.

Still mounted, the other uncalled knights and I watched with our squires beside us as the sixteen were winnowed to one. Trogox brought her horse beside mine.

"That," she complimented me openly on defeating the Rivadya knight, "was a good piece of work. A smart piece of work."

"Thank you, General," I accepted the compliment and awaited the ask.

"So, did you speak with one of the Princesses?"

"I did. I'll be going to war as an aide-de-camp for General Heoldax."

"The hell you will," Trogox's immediate rage burst forth, "You belong to House Laerdya, whether you live in the palace or out in the sticks. She can't simply coopt you because you didn't turn out to be a complete moron."

I think there was another compliment for me in there somewhere? With my low opinion of Trogox, I could hardly be bothered to care over her level of esteem for me.

"I'm a pawn and will move as I am moved," I shrugged. Vostiv sat silently upon Stygian beside me.

"That you will," she agreed and rode off, "wait and see. I'll fix this."

I didn't answer, but I did ponder. Oddly, I thought of Ser Gharntex. A reassigned hetaireia, assuming I became unfit for campaigning, was an entirely honorable pursuit. I could be with Caeli every day. I'd could work with young soldiers, preparing them to fight the Queen's wars. And my place in politics would be limited to politics, instead of my martial skill being negligible in comparison to my political equity.

Maybe I'd get lucky? In theory, I might become minorly permanently injured in the course of carrying papers around for a preeminent scion of either House Laerdya or the House Royal?

The horn released us and I again took Stygian from an excited and effusive Vostiv, returning both warhorses to the stables. I doffed my armor onto a nearby stand, then removed all the barding onto the horse stands across from Savaran's and Stygian's stall, wearing only my soldier's garb and borrowed sandals myself.

I'd swear Sanguine - Kemptrux's blood bay - gave me a hurt look. His friends had obviously gotten up to some excitement from which he'd been excluded for a third day in a row. And, even after most of the stablehands had left for the night, we all still hadn't returned from our fun.

So I petted my corporal's poor underutilized warhorse affectionately and brushed him down first. Then I brushed down the huge black stallion, taking a good deal of time functionally to groom a warhorse big enough for my gigantic preteen squire to grow into.

Finally, I got to my own warhorse, wanting to take my time out of gratitude to my most faithful friend. Savaran had patiently and professionally executed every non-verbal order I'd given him over the past few days and some were exceptional asks.

He pawed the hard dirt ground of the stable happily as I got all the dust and grime of the day out of his glossy gray coat.

"There's a good lad," I scratched just above his velvet nose, "I love you, you great gray rascal."

"You really do, don't you?" No, my horse didn't talk to me, but hearing Caeli's voice surprised me nearly as much as hearing Savaran's would have. Melodic and soft, her tone was not unwelcome, but her presence was inherently dangerous. Bad timing.

I started and looked about myself, realizing that I was utterly alone for probably the first time since Kemptrux entered my service. Exceedingly bad timing.

"I do love him. He and I have been through a great deal together," I answered uneasily and asked more uneasily still, "Caeli, does anyone know you're here?"

"No," she smiled mischievously as she stepped toward me, "And no one knows to look for me here either."

"Uh-huh," I stepped toward the side door and shouted, "Guardswomen!"

"You're calling the guards on me?" she asked in hurt confusion.

Caeli seemed so out of place. So lost and vulnerable. Her feminine scent wafted through the smells of horse, hay, manure, and leather. The hem of her light purple dress dragged through the dirt with every step she took toward me. The footprints partially scuffed by the hem of her dress told me that she'd snuck out in her bare feet to meet me in the stables.

"I am. I am sorry that I am, but I must." Conflicting emotions swirled through me. Shame at denying her anything within my power to give. Excitement that she came to me. Fear that one or both of us may face consequences. Lust at seeing her, delicate and alluring.

I dislike internal conflict and shook my head and snorted, like Savaran trying to rid himself of flies biting at his ears.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" she repined, clearly upset that her hard-won encounter wasn't going to plan.

"Of course, dear Caeli. There's no one I'd rather see," I stepped toward her unconsciously to comfort her, but reversed myself once I realized I'd done it. "But I promised your sisters that I'd not let this exact scenario happen. And now I have to get you back to your apartments without the appearance of anything untoward."

"I just wanted a kiss? Please? No one will know. No one but us." she asked so sweetly with her beautiful face upturned. She'd waited for this romantic moment for years, dreaming of someone who'd show her honest affection. "It was so much work to get to you and I only want a kiss?"

One kiss couldn't be all that bad? Right?

"I gave my word, Caeli. I can't go back on my word." The disappointment on her pretty upturned face killed me. "We'll be married very soon. Then, if you still want to, we can absolutely sneak down here and make out to your heart's content."

"I don't want to wait until then," she pouted, emanating frustration.

I wanted to hug her frustration away. And I wanted even more to kiss her.

My muscles twitched and flexed as they received different instructions from my head and my heart.

"Ser Taiglox?" One of the six answering guardswomen addressed me, then noticed Caeli, "Your Highness." One guardswoman saluted, two bowed, one knelt, and the other two looked at one another in rank uncertainty.

"Princess Caeli has...misplaced herself," I could hardly suggest that she'd ducked her attendants intentionally. In any case, I needed to get her to her proper location for the night, and without scandal. "Please escort her to her apartments."

"They can't," Caeli contradicted me with a wide grin, "I can only be escorted by family members."

"Really?" I laughed at the hypocrisy of her unauthorized solo escapade contrasting with the declaration of formal requirements for princessly movement within the Queen's solidly held fortress. The laughter broke some of the tension of the moment and put me more at my ease.

"Yes," she crowed cutely, "As an honorable knight, you're duty bound to stay here with me until one of these fine guardswomen can bring Vostiv."

I smiled back, mischievous in chivalrousness myself, "Oh, I don't think so, dear Caeli. Driquex, go to Princess Heoldax's rooms and report the location of her little sister."

"No, no, no, no, no," Caeli objected in mild alarm, "Vostiv. Or even Yonjax."

"They'll still be celebrating," I cheerfully pressed.

"Uh."

"Uh?"

"Damn it."

I laughed uncontrollably, having never heard her curse. "Go ahead, Driquex. Bring Zellix with you. The rest of you can stay here and lend an armed presence for the princess' safety." Keeping four witnesses on hand would be a relief from the amorous intentions of my intended, or so I thought.

"Aye, ser," they chorused, relieved themselves to have clear orders to follow. The two messengers ran off.

"While we wait," I gestured to my freshly brushed horse, "would you like to meet Savaran?"

"Of course!" Caeli knew she was in for no more trouble than a sisterly scolding, so she was easily pleased again.

In war, I've watched Savaran viciously bite combatants who unwisely neared his teeth. Savagely, he'd shear with a fierce bite to the stark white bone and rip out great bloody mouthfuls of living flesh in the hellscape of the battlefield.

But he was all genial gentleness with Caeli. He whinnied like a pony as she lightly scratched her fingers through his long mane.

I've never been so jealous of my horse.

"Aw, you're a nice horse, aren't you, Savaran?" She tickled the undersides of his jaw with both hands. "You wouldn't tell on me to my mean old sisters if I worked hard to slip out here and visit you, would you?"

"Heeeheherumph," Savaran agreed with her wholeheartedly.

"That's because you're a sweet fellow, Savaran. A thoughtful, kind fellow."

"Hurrhm," he echoed.

I stood by as my beloved fiancee and my prized stallion chided me for my failure to appreciate and reward Caeli's hegira to see me.

"I really am sorry," I reiterated, "I wish I could take better advantage of your getaway. Believe me."

"Savaran and I don't believe you," she flirted coyly, "Maybe I should ask Vos' horse?"

"I'd rather you didn't, Your Highness," I cautioned, "Stygian and Sanguine are new and I'm not confident of their temperaments yet."

"'Your Highness?'" she complained.

"I'm sorry, Caeli," I apologized as I stepped protectively toward her and said her name again, "Caeli, I don't think you should pet the other horses. I'm not sure that they're tame enough and I don't want you to get hurt."

"But I'm already hurt. Rejected even," she pouted again but smiled over her shoulder and thereby belied her supposed pain from rejection. Knowing my refusal was adherence to duty rather than lack of desire had removed most of the sting for her. Turning back to me, she placed her soft fingers on my bare biceps, "You could still make it up to me?"

I gulped, but stepped back, "I-"

"It's not nice to tease poor Lieutenant Taiglox, Caeli," Heoldax walked into the stables, flanked by her hetaireia and the guardswomen, "She'll follow orders even if her brain boils, and she has orders to not engage with you that way."

"What way?" Caeli feigned innocence.

"You know very well what way," Heoldax sternly admonished her little sister, "And for that matter, it's not nice to sneak off and artificially manufacture an urgent problem that interrupts me and these fine guardswomen from well earned peace."

"Sorry, Heo. Sorry, guardswomen," Caeli apologized, but without much remorse.

I sighed contentedly and smiled involuntarily. Somewhat in vindication, but mostly for the same relief that the other soldiers felt when a ranking woman took charge of a ticklish situation.

"I don't know why you're grinning, Taiglox," Heoldax chuckled, "After your wedding in four days, all her shenanigans will be your problem."

"Gladly," I accepted, pure joy shining on my face as I gazed at my bride, "Four days."

"Four days," she whispered back, now blushing again at the idea of no longer being a maid.

"Yes," Heoldax confirmed to Caeli, "And if you try to sneak off again, I won't let you see her until the wedding itself, understand?"

"I understand," remorse tinted Caeli's voice at the potential consequence, "I won't."

"Alright, come along then." Heoldax and her hetaireia left with the woman I was to marry in a matter of days. The guardswomen returned to their posts.

Left alone with the horses again in the deserted stable, I accosted my disloyal steed, "You're just a big traitorous attention whore, aren't you?"

"Hrrfff," Savaran snorted.

"I still love you," I confirmed and patted his neck.

I spent another hour brushing him down before quitting the stables to head into the palace and the safety of my own bed.

On arriving at my door, I found a noblewoman wearing opulent finery in marigold and maroon, but otherwise average in every way. She stood by as a servant in her house colors actively banged on my outer door, not usually locked.

"What is this?" I challenged.

"Nothing to you, soldier," the servant answered dismissively, "On your way."

"I live here," I supplied my reason for intruding on their intrusion.

"Ah," the noblewoman took an interest in me. "I'm Woicib, secondborn of Vexendya. Open the door then."

"I don't have a key. Why has the door been barred to you?"

The servant and noblewoman shared a glance before the noblewoman responded, "Misunderstanding with a servant girl inside. I need her to come with me."

"Misunderstanding?"

"Stop questioning your better, soldier," the servant broke in, irritated.

"Should I meet my better, I'll take that under advisement. Meanwhile, I am Lieutenant Taiglox, thirdborn of Trijox, House Laerdya, and I'd like to know why you've been barred from entrance to my apartments."

"You should introduce yourself immediately on meeting a peer, especially a Royal University scholar," Woicib scolded me, "And you shouldn't wander about in beggar's rags," she gestured at my soldier's tunic.

"Again, under advisement," my patience waned, "Why are you seeking and denied entrance to my apartments so late in the night?"

They glanced between each other again. The noblewoman spoke, "One of your servant girls, a little mousy thing, stole my coin purse. I was hoping to get it back quietly without involving anyone else."

"Why do you believe she stole your coin purse?" It had to be a misunderstanding or misidentification.

"I saw her," she snapped.

"Well, I'll talk to her to get to the bottom of it."

"What should talking to her matter? You'd take the word of a servant over one of your own?"

That question took me aback. My soldiers are my own. My household is my own. I didn't know this woman and the fact that we shared a class did not spark a kinship in me the way she seemed to think it would. Not the way interacting with a fellow soldier or Academy graduate would.

"I might take the word of someone I know over the word of a strange woman making a ruckus at my door late at night for a supposedly stolen coin purse."

"I will not be called a liar."

"Nor am I calling you a liar. How much gold did you lose? I'll simply reimburse you and we can all go home."