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Squire's Secret (Benny and Gunner)

She still dared to be defiant, to act like an unruly boy instead of adhering to the lifestyle choices that should have been best for her. Lady Jacqueline was going to contest his decision, by the sword and shield, and not through any wisdom of his, which she proclaimed as him having none. Where was the timid little boy of the past two weeks? In the space of a half an hour, he had been insulted, degraded, and now was being challenged in a contest of strength and might, often the method that men used to oppress women. Alright then. If that’s what she wanted. If that’s what she thought she could uphold and prevail upon. Friderick just had to make sure he didn’t hurt her. She was, after all, a Lady. And it held no honour or moral goodness to fight with her. Just only to prove this point.

Lady Jacqueline spoke further on the nature of gender roles in the world. He did not think it was so. There were of course exceptions but it was not up to Friderick to overthrow the established order just to accommodate one little Lady with fancy ideas in her head. There were women who ruled and could be strong, just as there were men who were weak and had no ambition or decisiveness for themselves. He was wise enough to see that. But he did not think Jacqueline would be one of those exceptions. He did not have answers to her questions. This should be something she discussed with her mother or father. Or perhaps they could search the ends of the earth for a woman who did accomplish this, and what her ordeals were to get there. Friderick did not think he could be the one who taught Lady Jacqueline how. It would not look well.

On and on she insulted though, now about Aurianne and what an example she was of Ladyship. Friderick tried not to let it get to him. No, this outpouring was nothing more than woman’s scorn. Someone here is a sore loser. It still hurt though and the heartbreak was all too near to him. His heart ached more that it came from her, the girl who impersonated his squire and supposedly his helper and comrade.

It still shocked him this transformation from a prodigious yet shy boy to a now fierce and tigress like personality.

He picked up his longsword, though he only slung his shield on his back, wielding his weapon two-handed. Like a knight. Everything she wanted to be, Friderick already was. “Your move, my Lady.” He simply answered her in a low tone. Talk was cheap now. The winner would get to talk after this and it was the only way Lady Jacqueline wanted to learn. Already she advanced on him, how he taught her, light on her feet, like a dance. Shield up. Eyes focused and determined. He noticed how more keen and profound those blue eyes were. The true emotion was revealed. The eyes of a woman. She came at him and in one step, Friderick simply moved back and out of reach. He still held his weapon. He would only defend. After all, there was nothing appropriate about this, to fight her, a Lady, even skilled and talented as she was. He did not want to hurt her.

So he defended. He kept shifting away from her, his longer stride putting him out of reach, but if she did catch up his sword only moved to block and parry, never counter or lash back. He knew she had stamina. He had drilled it into her. All those hours, once at morning, once at night, he was starting to regret teaching her it. Even if she was a woman. Or maybe the fact she was a woman made the fighting worse, for now she was like water, gliding and flowing, elegant as a Lady should be on a dancefloor and not a battle ground. She was good and all her words were justified. That is why when she did land a blow, a small cut on the back of a hand when he misjudged one of her strokes and blocked wrong, it did not surprise him. It did anger him though.

He decided to fight back. Only a little. He waited until she lunged again in some attack to get at him, hoping the drawing of first blood from him might goad her a little into being overconfident. He would dodge, clamp his hand to her sword wrist with all his strength, and yanked her arm back and upwards, sword pointed uselessly at the sky. He stepped next to her, putting them side to side, hip to hip almost. He leaned down in her face. “Forgive me for this, Lady Jacqueline.” He said to her, before thrusting his foot behind her and promptly tripping her onto her back. Instead of finishing her off, putting his blade to her neck or anything, he moved back several paces to let her recover. Accept that you can’t win and give it up. I don’t want to hurt you. Yet something told him that hell freezing over was a greater likelihood than that outcome.
 
Defence. Nothing but defense. He parried and turned her blade aside, blocked blow after blow. If she were a cat her fur would be standing on end as her anger and frustration mounted. Why wouldn’t he attack? Then again she wasn’t trying to actually hurt him either, making her attacks longer and sweeping. Grabbing true steel was a painfully foolish decision she was beginning to regret. With the fear of causing real injury she wasn’t fighting nearly as hard as she had against the bandits or the other squires. Back and back he stepped to keep her blade away from him. The haughty determination in her face slowly melted into a fierce snarl.

“Stop avoiding me!” She snapped with a harder and faster swing of her sword than she intended. Neither of them had anticipated it but he misjudged the swing and she felt the blade bounce off flesh. She immediately halted and stared at the welling wound. The snarl faded quicker than spring snow to a melding of apology and remorse. Her eyes drifted to the tip of her sword that held the tiniest smear of blood. It wasn’t the first time the blade had been bloodied. Green eyes flicked back to Friderick as his jaw set more firmly. While she hadn’t meant to scratch him at least it might make him actually fight her rather than just back away and block.

Jacqueline attacked again, keeping the same pacing and wider arcs of her blade. This wasn’t about hurting him, it was just to prove she was just as capable as a man. The contrasting desires of victory but no harm were nearly painful to balance. He already had the upper hand with his size, skill, and experience after all. Friderick dodged a lunge that was already wide but went still wider. She was jerked to a halt as a massive hand clamped around her wrist. A warm and hard fetter. Yanked all the way up to her toes she was stretched out as he held her sword arm captive. Jacqueline’s eyes went wide at the sudden turning of battle. Her hand still gripped the sword for all its might but all she had was her shield. It raised instinctively as though it formed any protection from defeat. He bared in close, his face mere inches away. Close enough she could feel his breath tickle her skin with his apology. Surprise turned to a scathing scowl at being called ‘lady’ once more.

The world upended with a swift kick. Jacqueline’s back hit the dirt hard enough to knock some air from her. Over already. She gasped sharply as the air managed to return to her only for Friderick to back away a few paces. Still sucking in precious air she slowly sat herself up, eyes wary and curious. Did he still want to fight? He could have ended it then and there. Jacqueline knew it was a futile effort. The odds of her beating Friderick in a fair fight were slim at best. Backing down, however, was not in her nature. Meekly abiding the rule of man like most featherbrained women. Jacqueline pushed herself up, casually dusting herself off. If he wanted to play games then games they shall play.

Jacqueline suddenly launched herself forward. No longer the pretty dancer but a relatively small bull charging down an opponent. She reeled back behind her left shoulder and swung her sword with all the force she could muster. In the same sweeping motion she crouched down and drove her shield up at Fridericks hands. Bashed high enough over her head she curled her knee to her chest and lashed forward, driving the sole of her boot into Friderick’s stomach just below the sternum. While she didn’t want to cut him up with her sword she didn’t mind doing out a good few bruises. He had given her plenty after all.
 
Friderick was doing half-measures with Lady Jacqueline. It was neither smart nor wise. He was letting his own morality prevent him from swiftly putting a stop to this foolishness. But he simply couldn’t. He could not harm a Lady, to put a blade to her neck, to demand she yield and surrender like he was some baseborn thug out for rapine and murder. But on the other hand…this is what Lady Jacqueline wanted now. She wanted the equality of a fair fight, to hold nothing back, and especially not to show favouritism because she was a woman. Yet that would be doing what she wanted instead. And what she wanted…felt wrong. That was a change. It was no longer just wrong. It felt wrong. But that didn’t make it wrong. But again, who was Friderick to decide and dictate what these things were?

The little Lady got up. Just like the boy she had masqueraded as. Friderick cursed himself for instilling such a vigorous routine of stamina, endurance, and swordplay into her. That half-measure now was going to bite him hard in the ass. He already had a bloody nick on his hand to show for it. How could he let something so ridiculous happen to him? Because he was that distracted? Or that Lady Jacqueline, god forbid, actually had promise at this so-called game of swords?

Here she came on, charging headlong like a bull and Friderick mentally rolled his eyes. What, no respect for skill, coming so straight on like that? No creativity? What have I been teaching you all this time? A hard and unwanted half-grin went on Friderick’s lips. She might be a Lady but by god, she was good at this. Well, except for this particular maneuver. The boy- no, the girl was distracted. The swing was wild and Friderick merely stepped back two paces to avoid its strike completely. Next came her shield, which did catch his hand from behind, nearly lurching the blade right out of his grip. His hands shook with the numbness that followed the blow. The following kick landed full on and Friderick staggered back another few paces, instinctively dropping down on one knee to bring his long arms to protect that most vulnerable region. His groin. One arm was wrapped there, the other still clasping his sword, the blade down into the earth to support himself. He stared across at Lady Jacqueline, who had committed these very unladylike actions.

“At least you remember the sword isn’t the only weapon of a knight. You used your shield. The best defense is a good offense. You finally got that through your head, lad- I mean, Lady. Lady Jacqueline.” Friderick corrected himself quickly, rising to his feet, begrudgingly giving her the compliment. He had almost forgotten in the thrill of the fight. She was good. And before she had been discovered, she had the promise of a very good squire. The short, brief fight so far had done wonders in fact to make him forget all about Lady Aurianne. But again, this was not his decision to make. He didn’t want it. It was…too much responsibility. And too much fear. She was a Lady and far too precious to be risked for something as violent as becoming a knight. He brought his hand up to his mouth, suckling on the cut a little, tasting the metallic blood, while staring across at her.

Half-measures weren’t going to suffice anymore. Lady Jacqueline really wanted this. She did, to the point she seemed willing to fight tooth and nail for it. Back to the wall, she had nothing to lose and everything to gain. Or was it the other way around?

In either case, he still decided to avoid her now. She scored a successful, yet only physical, hit on him. He still had his sword. And he was still strong, energized, and very much taller than her. In fact he was so confident in his victory that he moved aside, never breaking eye contact with her, to reach down and pick up a log to add to the fire, tossing it in where it landed with a flurry of sparks and ash puffing about it.

“I thought you wanted this, Lady Jacqueline. A knight who hesitates in battle in a dead knight. Why do you stand there looking like a doe caught before a speeding carriage?” He taunted her, trying to get her to rush in once more. “I hope, if your father allows you to continue, your next teacher can instill that value into your mind.”
 
With Friderick’s backwards stagger and drop Jacqueline felt a burst of pride. Shoulders back and chest out she stared down at Friderick as he latched a hand between his legs as if he needed to protect himself there. That was the last spot she intended to do him any harm quite unlike he had taught her. He was down and she could have lunged in again. Had it been a real fight, one where the loser would be meeting with God, it would have been over for him. In her mind at least. Yet neither was fighting to end the other’s life. The prideful grin only brightened as he gave the hard won compliment. Even when he thought she was a boy compliments were rare. She had ever just sought his approval of her abilities. Even him needed to add ‘lady’ didn’t ruin her grin.

Jacqueline watched him carefully as he knelt there, taking a moment to suck the oozing blood from the tiny wound. She had hit him twice now but he was holding back. Holding back even more so than she was. Despite the accomplishments he didn’t seem prepared to admit he was wrong, that society was wrong. She would force him to understand she was perfectly capable of fighting even with the supposed handicap of not being a man. He had already admitted she did well. Lesson he had taught her. It didn’t matter she had been pretending to be a boy, it was always her all along. The few words of praise, the training, the bruises.

She tensed when he stood, ready for a return of her assault. Instead he just stared at her, gaze unwavering. Her own eyes stared right back, slightly narrowed, not trusting his slow and easy movements. He moved to the fire to simply toss on another log. Flames licked at the fresh piece with vigor as sparks danced in the twilight sky. What was he playing at? Emphasizing that she wasn’t a true threat to him? His taunting words brought a puzzled frown to her brows. Had he lost his mind? Comparing her to some frightened doe. Her fingers gripped the hilt of her sword, turning the knuckles white, as indignation flared. She clenched her teeth and took a long, slow, breath to ease her furious mind. Anger won no battles.

“If this were a real battle you’d have had cold steel in your neck with your little fall,” she goaded right back. “You know as well as my father would sanction no such thing. Women are demure, delicate, pristine creatures. You still believe that don’t you? Despite a woman cutting your hand and bringing you to your knees.” Of course she knew she wasn’t about to change his mind in just one night, in just one fight. “I grow weary of your nattering about. Either fight me properly or yield. I’d hate to win just because you are too much of a coward to fight a woman.”

She didn’t give him time to respond. Rather than rush in like a bull again she moved forward, raised her shield, and pull back to swing. The arc was low, as though to slice at his knees. Though the sword came far lower and swiped into the camp fire. Glowing embers and ash flew through the air at Friderick’s legs. He’d have to moved, dance back or to the side, to avoid getting singed. Jacqueline took the opportunity to go on the attack. Her swings and thrust harder and faster, feet light and shield held high. “Fight or yield! Stop playing like a little boy!” She kept the flurry of attacks with her own insults, demanding he actually fight her. How could she prove a proper combatant without an actual assailant. “I’ve known kittens with more prowess!”
 
The reaction he got was what was expected. It angered her and therefore, it would be distracting. She was…well, behaving like a woman. So impulsive, so emotional, letting herself be provoked and agitated by him. This is why women did not have the aptitude for the life of a knight, so he presumed. Emotion clouded judgement and judgement, quick and decisive, was needed to survive a battlefield. Lady Jacqueline tried to flip it by stating the little victories she scored against him, that she was better and most certainly capable of being equal footed with him and any other man. He didn’t get to retort, as once more she came advancing forward, ready to strike and continue the fight. She must have known Friderick wasn’t going to yield.

Yet he wasn’t going to fight ether. He was stuck in a grey area, a contradiction. It couldn’t be like this anymore. Lady Jacqueline was getting too full of herself. She was distracted. Her next strike not only lashed at him, but followed through the flames itself, hurling burning embers towards him. Friderick simply moved back and out of range, letting those few coals sizzle out against the bottom of his trousers and boots. On she came, swinging and hammering, to which he answered again only in the defensive, blocking and avoiding. When she demanded he fight or surrender, he simply grinned at her attempts to provoke him. He wasn’t going to let that happen again. Especially since he was using the same strategy against her.

“If this was a real fight,” he said, between the blocks and parries, wielding his blade two handed, “you would have been dead the moment you overreached and lunged in the beginning. Time and time again today, my Lady, you have only proven why you shouldn’t be fighting.” Friderick said, clashing his blade to hers, then stepping forward suddenly, pressing her blade back to her body while giving her no room to swing or heave anymore as he loomed right in front of her, in her personal space. Freeing one hand from the hilt of his blade, he seized the top of her shield and with all his strength, first yanked her forward to dislodge her posture, before shoving back hard, slamming the shield into her own body before the momentum would carry her back.

“You are too emotional. You are too distracted. You want to prove to me so badly you can be on par yet it is only making you slow. Only making you awkward.” He said as he advanced on her, his strikes no longer defensive, but gaining in force and thrust. She tried to strike, he met her with a full on block that would knock her blade to the side, out of her grip if it wasn’t tight enough on her hilt. “You’re right though. I’m not fighting. And these little nicks and cuts on my body are not your victories, merely a result of my own foolishness. But I am focused now. You think you will land a hit on me? Try. Try now, girl.” He taunted her, continuing to advance on her, playing the rough defensive posture, whacking or hammering her attempts to fight back easily aside.

But he had enough and it was time to end this farce. How did he do it? He waited for any attack on her side before slamming back hard with his own block. But then he suddenly dropped his blade. Why? To seize her with his hands quickly, one grabbing the wrist of her sword hand, the other right at her neck. With a very feral and monstrous roar, he applied all his strength as he heaved, practically spinning her around his form before slamming her hard into the ground. Quickly he lurched over her, his knees at her hips, one leg anchoring down her leg, while he slowly, but steadily, without fail or pause in the progress, forced her own blade to her own neck, twisting and forcing her arm downwards. His strength and might were simply too overawing for her to compete. He was so large, so tall, and easily engulfed her. His other hand pinning her shoulder down, he soon twisted her hand enough to have her own blade right under her jaw.

“You see? This is how easy it would be.” Friderick sneered down at her, hovering over her face. “Yield now, Lady. Yield and accept you can’t win. Not against me.” And whatever her decision was, he suddenly twisted her wrist in the opposite direction, away from her neck, but with enough force and abruptness to cause her to release the blade. He quickly snatched that up, taking the victory without her verbal submission, and rose to stand.

“Dinner will be ready in half, my Lady.” He simply said to her quietly, leaving her on the ground as he went to pick up his sword, sheathing it at his side and placing her sword at the opposite side of his hip.
 
Proven why she shouldn't be fighting. That struck a nerve with her. As their blades caught, him pressing against her, she growled up at him. Her arm vibrated with her effort to push back against him. Foolish of course. She could train for one hundred years and she would never be able to physically overpower him. It didn't stop her from trying though, adding to her foolishness. He stood over her like a giant but she couldn't back down from him. Even with one hand on his sword he still pressed her back. Her eyes darted to the massive paw suddenly grabbing her shield. With a sudden yank she was pulled toward him, her feet stumbling for purchase, then summarily shoved back. Jacqueline stumbled backwards a few paces before regaining her balance.

Her teeth clenched as he still goaded her. Finally he was on the attack. Her beautifully painted shield suffered each blow, sending a tolling bell through her arm. The bellow and screech of metal on metal rang through the night in a symphony. She managed to strike back through his assault, at least verbally. Though taunting, in a strange way, he was still teaching her. This fight would have been different if they were truly after blood. It would be different if they were just using sparring sword. In her hubris and haste she had given herself an extreme handicap. Her heart was starting to thud harder and louder in her chest as she fought with him, trying to rein in her own anger. The worst part was the ring of truth to his words. She had let it all get the better of her. She would have to do better. Rein herself in more, calm herself despite the mounting desperation to win. To prove she could be a knight just like him.

Of course that all sounded well and good save for the fact she was tiring. She could feel the sweat prickle her back, her arms starting to cry out for a reprieve. All the training in the world couldn't make a person able to fight forever and she was already small to begin with. Still she tried, fighting on and through the growing heaviness in her limbs. Though Friderick solved the dilemma quicker and sooner than she thought. She hesitated on a swing when he simply dropped his sword, stopping herself in the middle of the arc. A knight who hesitates is a dead knight. Warm, rough iron seized her wrist another her throat. Green eyes shot wide, mouth agape trying to suck in a breath as the warm fetter clamped down. In a single motion the world spun and her back slammed into the earth. The moment he released her neck she sucked in a shuddering breath followed by a light cough. In enough shock, and grateful for be able to breathe again, she didn't struggle at first. Even the thought of struggling stopped as her arm was wrenched around, the cold iron touching under her jaw. Her chest heaved as she looked up at him, pinned down by his sheer weight and size.

The surprise of the sudden turn of battle wore away with his face so near hers. She lay still, perfectly aware of her easy defeat. Even as her lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed an unwarranted little flutter in her chest sent a discomforting trill down into her stomach. He demanded her surrender. She knew it was over. Her mouth opened to admit defeat when he suddenly wrench her arm the other way. Rather than words of acceptance she yelped with the twisting, her fingers releasing the blade. He was quick enough to snatch it up and stand. Slowly she pushed herself up to her elbows and watched him leave, grabbing up his own sword as he headed to prep dinner. But that was her job?

Jacqueline sat herself up all the way. Her lips were still pursed, throat sore and tight. She had known that beating him at combat had been a fool's hope. He couldn't even give her credit for being brave enough to try. She sat there for a time, angry with herself and more than a little dejected. He hadn't taken her knife at least. Likely he had forgotten about it. Reaching over she picked up her shield. The paint was chipped and scratched. She ran her fingers over the light scarring. It could be repainted. Jacqueline looked up at Friderick as he moved around the fire to cook. Sure she could escape home again, find someone else to train her. Even he had suggested it. Not escaping of course. Is that what she wanted though? Just any knight to train her?

Finally she pushed herself up, brushing off the back of her shirt and pants. It was still a few days to her home perhaps she could convince Friderick it was worth bending his ideals to train her. That a woman could be just as capable as a warrior. Even one so small. Jacqueline was as calm as a cat that had just fallen from a shelf. Returning the damaged shield to their small heap of gear then going to sit by the fire. Still seated with her knees apart, elbows resting on her thighs, chin in hand and staring at the fire. Occasionally her eyes flicked to Friderick as he prepared a meager traveling meal. He had cooked only once in her memory. The day she had run all over Christendom to get his stirrup fixed. It didn't seem fair that, after all she had accomplished with a for him, it was wiped clean because he had discovered her secret.
 
Verbal submission or not, it was clearly over. Friderick had enough of the games and showed Lady Jacqueline why this wasn’t the way for her. Yet as a boy he had no trouble putting her into the ground, using it as a teaching lesson. Now he treated it like a finality. Failure and loss weren’t experiences to grow. Was that…fair? How far she had come, in training and talent, under his visage but it had all been a lie. It could not be this way. He could not be responsible…if something happened to her. The fear of that consequence was enough for him to shut down any attempts to the contrary. He didn’t care that it was unfair for a Lady to be forced on the path put before her, by men or other women. It wasn’t his place to fight a system that been in place for so long.

He had no right.

He gathered up the two rabbits they had snared during the distraction, taking out his knife to skin them. That used to be a task for his squire. He even struggled with it a moment, haven’t had the experience to skin any bird or small game in months. He managed though, eventually staking them on sharpened sticks for the purpose and setting it upon the cooking spit over the fire. Now they would sizzle and cook, a duration of about a half hour or so. He looked over to Lady Jacqueline, finding her seated so rigidly, in dignified silence at her loss. What, no complaints, no protests, no whining about how it was so unfair? She gives up easily. But what was he thinking? Hadn’t he wanted this? There she sat, not even in a Ladylike pose, sitting like a bored child. So much wasted potential. If only…she could have her way. But no, that wasn’t his place to challenge. She could be the very best. Yet, there were rules. Very strict and rigid rules. It could not be so.

Dinner was rabbit stew, with diced vegetables, and a roll of bread to mop it up. He prepared it himself. That used to be a task for his squire. Friderick then came over and brought to her. “Here, my Lady.” He said in a low tone, the first words spoken since the loss. Usually he would go over their little sessions, pointing out where he- she could have done better, how to improve, how she should have used her feet and where she should have been looking. He still wanted to. It was so…relishing to do, molding her to be a fighter in his own image. It was not so impossible for her to have won. She was quick and agile, advantages she needed to utilize over opponents. Heck, she did it so well in the squire’s melee against twenty-nine other boys, all bigger, stronger, and larger than her.

Want to know why you lost? Because you were too busy thinking about proving me wrong, instead of just doing it, as you did when you earned that shield.

Nope, not a word about it from him. At least he didn’t rub it in by sparring by himself, in lieu of not doing the routine hour of drilling with her before sunset. Little by little the natural light dwindled, until only the illumination of their fire remained. “You should get comfortable within, Lady. I’ll keep first watch.” And last watch. He wasn’t sleeping, he realized. He couldn’t. It wasn’t proper to put a noblewoman on sentry duty, despite having made Jacqueline do her part many times with the other squires. But he had to do this. She might try and run.

He tried his best at it and made it decently through the night but it was impossible and foolish. He slipped into slumber sometime after midnight and jerked awake suddenly before dawn. The fire smoked yet everything was as it should be. All the horses were present, including William, and thankfully he snapped back awake before Lady Jacqueline had risen. No need for breakfast. It would be cold bread and cured meat, what little they had from Archensheen. Good for chewing on. Then he realized that wasn’t proper for a Lady, gnawing their teeth on this like a dog on a bone. Never mind that he had her do it when she was still a boy.

In any case, she might awake to finding Friderick fixing her saddle to William’s back, instead of the other way around. A task his squire used to do for them both. Would he truly leave her nothing? Idleness must be a hellish bore. “When you are ready my Lady, I can chaperone you to the river where you can wash your hands and face, before we set off on the road.” He even offered. He had her steed here but he still didn’t put it past her to try and flee if she went alone to the river.

Had it just been him and his squire, they could have ridden hard to Lancaster, reaching there in three or four days. With a Lady, their pace had to be more…dignified. It might take them a week then or more. He would make her ride ahead, to make sure she didn’t pull a fast one and try to slip out from behind him. He was confident his much larger charger could keep up with her if she tried to run in front of him.
 
It was a quiet meal. The only words spoken when he gave her the bowl of simple stew and her thanks for it. They ate in silence as the sun slowly sank into the horizon, their fire the only source of light throwing them into harsh planes of light and shadow. Jacqueline pondered her reasons of failure. She knew full well it was just because Friderick was bigger than her, stronger than her, or more experienced. He hadn't even been trying hard right up until the end. Grabbing live steel had been her first mistake that cascaded down into utter failure. She might have stood a chance had she not been making an effort not to hurt him. Only a few days ago he would be instructing her what she had done long. Strange, she didn't think she would miss his long lectures. The scraping of their bowl and the crackle of the fire was deafening in their collective silence.

After an eternity of eating in the quiet darkness he finally spoke up. Jacqueline lifted her head to look at him. Get comfortable and sleep, he would take first watch. She opened her mouth to argue but snapped it shut with a click of her teeth. With a small huff she rose. "Very well," she simply said. "But don't forget to wake me," she said as she took her bowl to rinse in the small bucket of water. At least, for once, she didn't have to worry about remaining fully clothed for sleep or if her bindings would hold through the night. Jacqueline removed the thicker tunic, remaining in the simple white undershirt. It was no wonder the squire always slept fully clothed, hard to hide breasts under that thin shirt. She removed her boots and stockings before crawling into her bedroll to get some sleep.

Jacqueline squeezed her eyes shut at the light filtering through her lids. With a little groan and a yawn they flit open. She sat up with a start and a little gasp. It was morning! With a haphazard scramble she crawled out of the small tent to find Friderick saddling William. She felt that deep in her gut as if he had thwacked her with a training sword. He had taken watch all night and now was doing the work of the camp himself. Even saddling her own horse before his! If that wasn't bad enough his offer was another slap in the face. "I do not need chaperoning," she snapped back. Before even bothering to put her boots and tunic back on she grabbed their bedrolls to roll up and stow on the pack mule. If he thought he was going to do everything and she just sit idly around he was sorely mistaken.

Once she did what work she could manage before he tried to bully himself into it she finally dressed herself. With Friderick present she decided to continue leaving off the bindings. It was strangely freeing not to have to wrap her chest any more at least though the binding were still wildly more comfortable than a corset. At least the thicker fabric of the tunic hid most of her figure. Dressed and ready, the camp picked up, they were ready to depart. Jacqueline kept on the opposite side of William from Friderick, even if it meant mounting on the wrong side. If he had any machinations that she needed help up on her horse she was going to thwart them from the start.

There was no need to push the horses too much. Jacqueline had hoped their pace would be slow. More time on the road, more time to make her case. Prove that, despite him figuring out the secret, nothing was truly different. They were on the road for an hour or so, Jacqueline ahead of Friderick. She didn't quite understand why he seemed keen to ride behind her. Seemed improper, staring at her backside for hours. Finally she turned around in her saddle to look at him, William slowing as his rider twisted on his back. "Why did you not wake me?" Of course she knew the answer to that. A lady shouldn't stand watch. Before he could reply she gave the rebuttal to what she was sure he would respond anyways. "You are so concerned about a 'lady' not doing certain things but if you did not sleep how do you propose to be of any use on the road? Lord willing we go unmolested because you are simply being stubborn about all of this," said the pot to the kettle.

"And furthermore...despite your sudden maelstrom of misguided chivalry, you seem terribly keen to keep a good view of my backside. This seems wildly inappropriate." Jacqueline couldn't help digging at him. She was furious he pressed so hard about what was proper and what wasn't. Any little dagger she could find to drive in she would take it. Though she knew it didn't necessarily help her convince him out of his mindset; it felt good to do anyways.
 
“Then don’t take too long, my Lady.” Friderick simply answered to the refusal of a chaperone. He decided to trust her not to do anything like run or flee. Not without her horse, which remained with him. He turned though and watched with some derision as Lady Jacqueline began to pack up the tent on her own. That was not suited for a Lady to do. He could not allow that. Not befitting the daughter of a Duke to spoil her hands with such manual labour. So wordlessly, he got involved and started to do what he could, tackling the bigger labour like dismantling the tent, stowing away the frames, rolling up the canvas, all of it. He practically dislodged her from it. A silent battle of wit and nerve.

When they dressed to go, Friderick found himself unable to not stare or steal fugitive glances at her. She looked so different now. Nothing to wrap down her chest, no longer appearing like a slender boy. He could see fully the girl in her now, even with the short hair, the lump of her breasts were unmistakeable now. And he remembered all too vividly what they looked like, two perfect lumps, with such pink, stiff points. He shook his head to throw the thoughts out. He couldn’t think like that about a Duke’s daughter, so dignified and virtuous as they were supposed to be, only a step down from a Princess!

He hoped it would be quiet travels. He hoped Lady Jacqueline learned her lesson. That illusion was shattered when she decided to turn and demand of him why he excluded her from the usual activities. From sentry duty, from prepping the horses, from packing up the camp. She did have a very good point about how his selfless duty, or selfish duty, might impede him. He was sleep deprived. It ought to be evident with the bags under his eyes, though he could not see them. But none of that was half so bad as when she abruptly pointed out his undignified view of her backside. Friderick felt a sudden pang of fear at the remark. Did she know somehow he had been thinking…of what he saw by the riverside, earlier? It was not appropriate. He knew it was not appropriate. Yet he still thought about it. Did she really know his thoughts at that moment? He had to remind himself first that he was riding behind for security, not for such depraved purposes.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lady. I’m back here to make sure you don’t try and ride off to pursue your wild dream of being a knight on your own.” Friderick answered her firmly. “I would never gaze upon your…you know. That would be unbecoming of a man and noble.” He tried to defend himself at first. He had already seen it, seen how perfectly curved and firm it was, with tone and muscle. But that had been wrong to see in the first place. And it probably would have been better for all if he had not. “You don’t have to concern yourself with my state of consciousness. I’ll be fine. You focus on the road ahead and how you conduct yourself, my Lady. Or you might trip up and lame your horse by accident.” He simply waved off the other concerns.

Or maybe he just sounded like the typical man who thought he could do everything to impress a Lady. He wasn’t trying to impress Lady Jacqueline though…right? She would never be for him anyways. Her family would not allow it. She was fit to be the consort of Princes, while he was only a lowly Baron. Her father probably had landed knights far richer than he was.

“See,” Friderick then started again after a moment, “I do not understand why you are so concerned about doing what I do. If I could have the influence and power to have men fight for me, do all my chores, to have men and women wait on my every word and command, you think I’d still be out here? For many this is a way of life they cannot compromise on. Yet you have all the privilege of being well off and comfortable. You truly think the thrill of clashing steel and facing death is worth all of this, Lady Jacqueline?” He snorted in disbelief, though the moment the words left his mouth…he too realized just how boring and dull that life must be. “The life of a Lady might be tiresome for you but it is still infinitely more comfortable and cozy than the life of a traveling knight.”

Soft living made soft men, hard living made hard men. He did not want to comprehend how that might translate to a woman’s experience. He figured hard living might make them all skeptical and undignified like a whore. That’s what all other men assumed and what had been impressed on Friderick. Yet he was seeing…otherwise before him. And it was confusing to the expectations he had come to know.
 
Jacqueline quirked her eyebrows at Friderick's rebuttal. Unbecoming of a man and noble indeed. She honestly didn't think he was remaining behind for such a degrading purpose but she enjoyed getting a rise out of him. More amusing was that he thought she would simply try and ride off on him. Sure she had threatened it but she wasn't completely stupid. He was quick to change the topic to his well being after standing guard all night. His words were at odds with the dark circles under his eyes. A shame given their handsome, bright shade of blue. Jacqueline snorted and turned back forward. "William is intelligent enough not to step in a rut," she said simply as she stared forward. She opened her mouth to argue about her wanting to ride off on him but he started up first.

His logic was far from sound. Perhaps there was a smack of selfishness. Poor little rich girl, bored of her rich and powerful life. There were folk who had no other option. Jacqueline reined up William and suddenly turned him, blocking Friderick's path. For a moment she looked like she had several choice and thunderous words for him but she stopped. Her expression melted from indignant rage to a slumping sigh. "I don't deny that this choice is selfish," she admitted with a sideways pursing of her lips. "I should be grateful to have been born so lucky. Born into wealth, power, privilege. Despite what you must think of me I recognize these things." With a light urging of her hips and heels she moved next to Friderick, the horses facing opposite ways. Even on her tall horse she had to crane her neck back to look up at the Baron.

"I believe God gives us paths to follow and we choose which path to take. He put this fire in my heart," she said, laying a hand on her chest. "I recall making mention of it a time ago and you seemed so convinced that it was not so dull and tedious. You haven't a clue how badly I wanted to tell you how wrong you were because you know nothing about the circles of women. The endless, mindless, chatter while sewing ridiculous embroidered nonsense." She stopped herself a moment a huffed another sigh. "I know, I know. Poor little rich girl. Life is so hard to sit indoors with a warm, comfortable fire, good food to eat, servants to attend every need, comfortable featherbeds at night. I recognize this and guilt has gnawed at me every day since this charade began, more so since setting such worry on my parents. Even still it's this life I crave. Yes, it is worth it. Sleeping in the rain and the mud, working and training until every muscle screams for a rest. I've loved all of it with..." She stopped herself and looked away, feeling her ears suddenly grow hot.

Clearing her throat she turned William back around to line up beside Wingfoot. "Of course none of that matters to you I suppose. You simply think I am daft. An anomaly to the order of the world. Perhaps it's true but that changes nothing in my mind. I am determined enough to continue even if..." She stopped herself once more, glancing at Friderick before looking away. He had made it clear what he thought of her mindset. "Even if it means having to sneak out of my own home. Which would be far easier than fleeing you so no need for your pretext about watching for me to run. I gave you my word that if you won the fight I would permit you to escort me back home. When we get there, however, is no longer up to you." It was a good enough cover. Deep down, however, she wondered if she would even still have such a drive with another teacher.

Jacqueline was determined to ride side-by-side with him from that point on. She determinedly kept William at pace with Wingfoot. Her word not to run off should be good enough even if she had spent the past moth constantly lying to him. That had been an entirely different matter after all.
 
Yeah, your horse is intelligent enough, but you aren’t. There was no emphasising it though. Lady Jacqueline was too strongly rooted in her beliefs and even Friderick knew the walls were up high given how well she had done so far in her crazy scheme to become a knight. She had been trained, drilled, and strengthened already to the level of any male squire. She had fought and killed. She had fought…and won a tournament victory. They were all notches on her belt rightly owned. She knew it. He knew it. Convincing her otherwise seemed insurmountable perhaps. But being a tall man himself, he knew heavy and high challenges simply took longer to be knocked over. Her fall from such a pedestal of belief in herself would have to come a lot more strongly than the beatdown he gave her last evening. Could he really put her down like that though?

His words evidently got through to her, as they provoked her into reined her mount and moving before him to block his own passage. Friderick sighed heavily, already tired by the dramatics of women, who seemed to cause him grief and stress to no end. Though, no other Lady has caused him this sort of stress like Lady Jacqueline did. She haltered her mount in front of him and began to agree with his words. Friderick could already sense the but coming on that would make all words spoken prior to be moot. Now they were side by side, their differences in height all too evident, but as she began to speak on God, their true spiritual differences were shown to be naught. They were after all pawns and pieces on that board, moving themselves but their inner ambition ignited there by the One. It applied to him as much as it applied to her.

She ranted on about the miseries of female life, cloistered with other mindless hens, yapping about the most inane topics. Friderick couldn’t deny that he could empathize with her on that. “With?” Friderick asked her, when she suddenly came to a pause, though it took only a moment for the answer to register in his mind. With you. With Friderick, the Baron of Alnerwick. That answer seemed obvious, it seemed good, and yet because she didn’t actually say it, Friderick wrote it off as benign nonsense. No doubt driven on by his most ignoble glimpse of her womanly frame and intimate flesh. She finished off her ultimatum though, declaring she would try and try again no matter what Friderick or her father thought. Her tenacity was commendable. He almost could wish her good fortune. But in the end, it wasn’t his decision to make. Right?

He didn’t speak or answer her just yet. She had said a lot and it was much to think over. So they rode, side by side, back down the road at a slow trot. His gaze was forward, though his eyes were somewhere else instead of the glimpse of blue skies between the foliage of forest around them.

“I don’t think you are daft.” He began at first. “You certainly act like it, sometimes, Lady Jacqueline. Still, it is not right that you do this. Especially given it goes against your parent’s own wishes for you. You are still under their protection and guardianship, from which I have but a lease in my wardship over you. But I have neither the right nor the power to make your scheme a reality. Nor will I accept the responsibility. There was a reason a line was drawn in this profession, for it to be for men and not for women.” What reason? The truths are lost in the long annals of history. And as for responsibility…well, he did start this and put it all in motion, helping to prove her goals.

“Or maybe you are daft. Tell me then, how you will continue in your little grandiose ploy, if I were to simply inform your parents upon our return that you intend to flee the moment their guard has dropped? What if they doubled, tripled their vigilance?” Friderick then taunted her, shooting her a sidelong glance. He was challenging her now. How thought out was her vision? How ready and able was she to carry out the necessities to make it happen? To lie. And to lie well. “Or will you try and flee from me now given this intent of mine? But you gave me your word, Lady Jacqueline. And whether you become a knight or at most, can emulate one, knights do not break their word. So what will you do, if this failure becomes permanent?”

Maybe he was challenging her because he wished to find some loophole for his own rationale.

“You do not know your worth. You are intelligent and have a rare view of the workings of the world of men unlike any of the women around you. In your position, you could become a most wise and influential advisor to your future husband, who I do not doubt will be a Lord of some worth and power in this world. You could wield great power through him, by your marriage. That should be your fate, Lady Jacqueline.” Friderick mused aloud, his eyes now forward again. Yes, that would be the best case for Lady Jacqueline within the rules and natural order of things. But he could tell too that wasn’t what she wanted. In any case, he was taking her home where she ought to abandon this nonsense and follow this path he had laid out for her. That would be best. Not for them, but best for…her parents and society he figured.
 
Silence again. Silence save for the clopping of hooves on the dirt track. An easy enough little trot. Jacqueline was in no real rush to make it home and towing a packhorse behind didn’t allow for mad galloping down the lane. She knew her arguments wouldn’t sway Friderick; not immediately, if ever, anyways. There was more she would wish to say, she could talk and argue her point until she was blue in the face. Instead she held her tongue, let Friderick ruminate on her arguments. She couldn’t help but glance over at him from time to time. His face pensive, eyes looking far beyond the track before them. She didn’t even try to stop or chastise herself for appreciating just how handsome and regal he looked, trotting at her side. Blue eyes focused, hard jaw set, the light bounce of his grown out and lightly curling dark hair. Aurainne was an idiot.

Finally he spoke. Red brows quirked up curiously. He didn’t think she was daft but he was quick to nearly renounce the statement. Her eyes rolled as he brought up her guardianship. Her parents and him. She was a woman grown and didn’t need to be watched and coddled like a new lamb. An indignant huff heaved her chest. Line drawn for the profession of knight for men and men alone. An arbitrary choice made by men in ages past. How women allowed to be ruled as such was beyond her knowing. Was the old world populated by feather head like Aurainne only? Lot of fools they were letting men take control of the world while they sat meekly by and used in trading for alliances.

His taunting words and sideways glance brought her brows together in a little scowl. “You wouldn’t dare…” she grumbled at him. Given his belief that she needed someone to own her she didn’t entirely doubt he would tattle to her parents about everything. Worse was when he challenged her to flee from him. Mocking her own honor and, at the same time, teasing a knighthood in front of her like a small child teasing a cat with a feather. It was bordering on cruel the way he taunted her like that. Though she had given her fair share of daggers where Aurainne was concerned. She took a sharp breath and opened her mouth for a harsh rebuttal but stopped when he started up again.

A sudden, thrumming, pang rushed through her chest making her stomach turn over and her ears warm. Whether he meant to or not the compliment was flattering. Right up until he noted that such qualities would be good…for her future husband. The quick, hot flush of appreciation turned quickly to ice in her guts. “My worth to some man huh? What a grand thing to say. Why don’t you just speak on how fine my teeth and coat are if you are going to compare worth like a goat.” The words came out low and hissing; an angry and bristling little cat. “You speak of women(though she meant her specifically) like a flock of sheep for sale. I thought…” she halted herself. It was a foolish notion. He had treated her almost like an equal because he thought she was a boy. The moment he learned otherwise she was relegated back down to livestock. It hurt. It wounded her more than she could have ever imagined.

“I am more than quality goods for sale you know. More than just some little wayward calf needing guardianship. Passed from one overseer to the next. Well the egg is on your face and my father’s. Jacque will have taken his holy vows by now. You see…just as God put the drive of a warrior into my heart he put the soul of a scholar in my brother. Jacque cut my hair and I shaved his head. He put on the brown robes of a monk and I donned his tunic. He gave up his ability to inherit Lancaster, to produce future generations of Dukes to rule over the lands. How does that fit into your notion of my fate?” Her grin was bordering on manic, a little cat that ate a prized bird. “My father might not agree with a woman fighting but I doubt he’ll allow the family lands to fall on my distant cousins. Lucky you to be there to present him with the truth of the matter.”

Jacqueline gave Friderick a moment to absorb that bit of information. That he would be delivering the wayward daughter home. The question would come: where is their son? As far as he parents knew Jacque was with Friderick. When Friderick turned up without Jacque but with Jacqueline questions would abound. It was downright sneaky and put Friderick in a terrible position. “Do you see now? I will not be relegated to what I can provide for a man. Even if you tell them my plans and they try to stop it I won’t be stopped. Because this path of learning to be a knight is not just some whim, some flight of fancy that I’ll give up when tired and retire meekly to the scraggly arms of an old, wealthy codger. Or worse: you do remember Clotaire? Duke Tancred’s vile son? There was talk of selling me off to him. That is the fate for me you speak of. I will have this path and when I am done I will have better knowledge to rule Lancaster as its Duchess. Not as some breeder sow for the likes of Clotaire.”

A bold and ruthless plan. Jacqueline was grinning as if the argument was already won. Though it still begged the question: did she want to escape just to find any errant knight to teach her? Her grin melted away and she looked ahead to the road once more. “That leaves you in an interesting spot doesn’t it? You could simply elect to help me keep the secret, train me, teach me. You’d have a very powerful ally of Lancaster.” Her notion was both somehow bribery and blackmail all in one. Of course it boiled down to a single point she wasn’t willing to admit. She wanted to be his student. Him specifically.
 
You wouldn’t dare… came Lady Jacqueline’s shocked response. Had she not learned by now it was probably best not to share such things with him? If she hadn’t, or been more careful, they wouldn’t be in this mess. He’d still be her knight and she’d still be a boy in his eyes. That veil was lifted now. And to her grumbled answered, Friderick only grinned in suggestion. He might just dare. Who knows. No, that wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be treating this so lightly and like a game. Yet here he was. Testing her. Challenging her. Making her…work out the chinks in her little plan.

But clearly he had a wrong choice of words in trying to persuade Lady Jacqueline to a different path. He did not mean for her to be treated or viewed as chattel, like a fancy gold cup to be polished and placed on the shelf, before being paraded around for the guests. Though some marriages were of that sort, it was not entirely like that all over. She hissed out her venomous answer like a snake prowling in tall grass, about to seek fatal vengeance on a poor rodent who came within its bounds. In fact it led to a most surprising confession, of how her and her brother had worked out this ploy. The real Jacque had become a scholar-monk, while his sister had taken his place in the world of men. Fine, whereas those two were concerned. But the rest of the world?

Regardless, this entire plot of theirs was based on a lie. And knights did not tell falsehoods. If she wished this life, then she ought to start again, and do so not based on this falsehood anymore. But as she said, there was an impassable barrier to getting that outcome, given how society would view it with disdain and scandal. As for inheritance, there were ordinances and precedence for women to pass on the lineage, if there were no eligible men. Did she not see her parents might wish her safe and home even more now, given she was the only future for her own family? It made her actions here even more selfish.

You’d have a very powerful ally of Lancaster. Friderick dipped his head back lazily and let out a riotous chuckle at that notion.

“The rich and powerful only make allies with themselves. All others are merely subordinates or foes.” He pointed out with a side glance at her, as they trotted down the forest road together. This was taking forever or seemed like it. She was so very passionate about her goals though. He could see she had all the justification in the world prepared to argue her side of it. He realized she must have done so many a times with her own family and thus worked out every move and countermove that could be had in this debate. But her parents were not Friderick, as he himself pointed out. He knew more of the world than a rich Duke might, even if his influence extended further than a Baron’s ever would.

“My position is interesting only in that I might lose my head over this scandal. You still don’t see how that is selfish of you to put someone else’s life on the line for your own ambitions? Another interesting position is your father’s, since you are now his heiress, and you want to go out and risk your life for this dream. The future of your House and yet you do not understand your importance to the memory of your dynasty. Still don’t see your own selfishness? No one is comparing you to livestock or property here, except yourself. That is wrong. You are apart of this world, same as everyone else. But you have to play by the rules as well. If everyone did as they pleased, man or woman, it would be anarchy everywhere. Yet you are happy to cause that. Still don’t see your own selfishness?” Friderick simply posed to her in return, casting another glance at her, before keeping his eyes to the front.

No, the more he looked at her, the more he thought about…that scene down by the river. Was that the reason he couldn’t simply go along with the lie? Her skills and talents, already proven, already so much invested in…he could not look the other way to see something beautiful come to fruition? Is it because the line between knight and squire would soon become blurred by the natural state between man and woman?

“Maybe we ought to find you a lady knight already in existence.” He chuckled to himself. “No, the only place they have those is over the Colossal Peaks to the east.” He pointed out, referring to the large range of mountains, possibly the largest, all the way to the east that separated their world from the vast steppes of Asoya.

“My only position now is to take you home, where you can render these arguments before the seat of your father, who will decide this. And whatever be my fate or punishment for contriving in this scheme of yours and your brother’s. You based this entire affair on a lie. A lie, Lady Jacqueline, whereas a knight is supposed to be true, always, in his words and actions. It’s in the vows.” Friderick reminded her firmly. “Another thing you committed so selfishly in this pursuit as well." And with a snap of his reins, began to trot his mount a little faster, which would make further arguing difficult over the clip-clop of hooves and wind in their ears.
 
Friderick’s sudden and riotous laughter jerked her head back in surprise. What was so funny about that? The deep baritone mingled with amused delight might have been a pleasant sound if she wasn’t certain he was laughing at her. His pointed comment made her roll her eyes. Maybe that’s how he saw it and how others acted. Why must everything be simple blanket statements from him. Not that she wasn’t guilty of blanket statements too. There were anomalies in all aspects, some good and some bad. He didn’t seem to want to recognize that though.

His following words, however, were not unlike a small dagger. She had already admitted out loud how selfish the decision was. He wasn’t likely to lose his head though, that was a little excessive. Not any more than she would. Though she hadn’t thought of the predicament it might place Friderick in if he kept her secret. Her lips pursed with the idea. She was willing to take any punishment from her deceptions. Though how willing was she to allow others to be punished? As he went on about her house and the duties of an heiress her mind was more focused on those that could actually be harmed. One of the few aspects she hadn’t entirely considered. Unlikely though it was there was a tiny, viable threat there.

Though her pondering was cut short as he mentioned a lady knight. Even as a painful needle of ice jabbed through her guts she huffed with a roll of her eyes. Women knights did not exist. He had said it himself, it wasn’t allowed by society. Theirs at least. She had heard of the viscous woman warriors of the Steppes. Fierce and mighty fighting and raiding alongside their men. Rumor had it, however, that men who desired a woman as a bride had to kidnaped and impregnate her. Even in a culture of women warriors they were still subjugated by men. Charming. Yet it wasn’t the simple fact of the impossibility of his suggestion that turned her stomach to knots of ice and rot. He was clearly keen to be free of her. Every other breath seemed to be suggesting she find herself a different teacher. He was quickly making it clear he wanted nothing to do with her.

Friderick’s final lecturing dagger was lost on her as the weight of constant suggestion for ‘anyone but him’ bogged down her mind. Her eyes locked forward, jaw clenched, hands tight on the reins. Of all things to be said that was the hardest one to hear. For once she kept her mouth shut as he picked up the pacing. Jacqueline hesitated a moment, falling behind a few paces, before giving William a sharp nudge with her heels to catch up and keep pace. She knew she had to let go of wanting him for a tutor. Perhaps he was, in fact, too good for her. Staunch and steadfast in his beliefs. She had lied and done selfish things to be there, this she well knew. They didn’t seem so terrible until Friderick made such sharp points about them. Anger and guilt knitted her brow as they trotted down the path in mutual silence.

Jacqueline didn’t try to argue any more as the day wore on. She was tired of wasting her breath. Friderick was too steadfast in his beliefs to listen or change his mind. What would he want with a selfserving liar anyways? Serlena had done a fine job talking her up. Enough so she had thought Friderick might simply accept her, respect that a woman wanted such a life. Foolish of course. These thoughts brought Jacqueline to a never before experienced low. A frown still creased her brows as evening came and it was time to stop. Finding decent, flat ground to camp was a challenge. Eventually a swath of open ground was found beyond a thicket.

Despite her sudden tight lipped surliness she still pushed her way into helping set up the camp. If Friderick tried to shoo her away from a task or bodily take it over himself she just found something else to do. The horses were settled and brushed down, saddles off and gear removed to ease their backs for the night. Once all was done Jacqueline went through their gear and took a training sword. The self same one she had been using since day one with Friderick. A tree would have to suffice for a sparring partner as Friderick had made it abundantly clear he wanted no part in it. She didn’t speak a word to him but stayed near enough to the camp so he wouldn’t come charging down like a worried hen.

The poor tree. It had no part in any of this but its bark was hit time and time again, small splinters flying as she practiced strokes, always holding up her shield. Her strikes a little harder than usual sending a wave of tingling numbness up her arm as she took out her frustrations on the tree. Even with the cathartic exercise she kept her form up just as Friderick had taught. From an outside view it was clearly the work of something releasing emotion and tension but not the wild and furious hacking of one unhinged.
 
Silence seemed to imply the debate was over. Friderick was not foolhardy enough to presume that meant he had won.

But a sullen quiet from Lady Jacqueline, he soon discerned, was to be as frustrating as the full weight of her vocal scorn. Was she really taking his words to heart or simply falling into a restrictive demeanor, refusing to allow such thoughts and notions to be implanted in her mind? So the hushed space between them became the norm for the rest of the day. What did they have to talk besides that? She was a Lady and to his mind was not exactly one with whom he could converse now about the knightly life. Fights, training, chores, whores even, that had been the topic of discussion. Now, awkward tranquility prevailed. He was taking her home and there was no more debate about it.

And the other thing? It was not quelled. The day wore on and the time came to camp and rest. He had already set his mind about the task, solely. Tether the horses, erect a fire, pitch the camp, fetch clean water, set the snares, check the snares, hopefully cook something warm and juicy tonight. And Lady Jacqueline? Her role was to sit and wait while men diligently prepared her comfort for the night. Yet this Lady Jacqueline seemed to hold to no such standards. “What are you doing?” Was his first protest, which she tried to assist in removing the camping gear from their pack animals. But her determination outdid his protests, which simply devolved into exasperated sighs when he finished one task, only to find her engaged in another, to which he quickly intercepted and employed himself within. Yet there was always something more for her to get on.

When finally it all seemed to end, she took up her training sword, the one of wood, and took herself to a tree. Friderick could only watch with a forlorn expression. He could fight her about it. He figured it would be a fight that had to be had every evening until they reached her home. Not so bad, only a week or so of doing that. Yet something in his mind informed him, as he watched her skillful strokes against the tree trunk, that a dozen defeats would not stir her from this course. It shouldn’t, not one for a true knightly virtue. Already he felt a tick of frustration at her, not at the disobedience alone, but at her…posture and everything! Spread your feet, bend your knees, follow through with your weight and for fuck sake’s stop overreaching.

Yet even he could gleam the raw outpouring of emotion from Lady Jacqueline as she sought to brutalize the tree.

That was her business now though. The snares bore bounty for him and soon the meat was skinned and stewing in their pot, before being ready. He beckoned her to eat and did so himself, finishing before her, so he could go and silently implant himself at the base of her training tree as if to say no more. He was going to sit there and take the night’s watch, by himself of course. Never mind there were many others she could take to, but even he would say she had more than enough, lest she wanted her arms to be limp and tired tomorrow. Maybe that was a good thing. In any case, the tent was all for her, the comfort and privacy a Lady deserved.

Night came on dark and cloudy, with barely a light save that of their dying fire. Rather than assist in keeping Friderick awake through the long hours, it proved to be the opposite, lulling him into sleep with its crackle and quiet roaring dance. Knees drawn up, his longsword between, he couldn’t remember when his head dipped forward and he began to lightly snore, the exhaustion of the previous few days catching up on him. Even without this drama, he required this rest, for his mental and physical recovery after the tournament and resulting rejection. But it couldn’t be fought now.

Friderick fell asleep, looking as if his own weight and momentum might send him dipping aside into the soft moss.
 
Jacqueline could feel Friderick's eyes on her but she didn't spare him a glance. Let him stomp over and try to stop her. With the weighted wooden sword she'd fight him again and not hold back. She was furious with him, furious with their society, even furious with herself. How could she ever convince him that this was the right path for her? Yes lies were involved and there would always be danger. How else was she to continue this way though? As far as she knew there were few who could or would understand why a woman would want such a life. It made for a small group of those who'd even be willing to train her. Small or none really. Friderick had made it clear he wanted no part in it. It wasn't his place to decide, it just wasn't right. That aspect, somehow, hurt the most. She had fooled herself into thinking he might be impressed by a woman who could fight. How very wrong she had been.

After a time her arm was growing sore and numb from giving the tree a good beating. Chunks of bark were missing from the blunt trauma. She was panting softly, sweat gathering on her hairline and back. Just as she was considering a halt to her attacks on nature she heard Friderick call her over for dinner. Jacqueline heaved a sigh and looked over. It was a good time to stop anyways. Rolling her shoulders she mad her way back to the fireside and accepted a bowl of the simple game stew after stowing the wooden sword and her shield away. Her stomach rumbled at the smell and she dug into the stew, hungry after the long day and the training she had to conduct alone now. She was only part of the way through her bowl when Friderick suddenly rose up. Her eyes lifted to watch him as he took his sword and went right to the tree she had been abusing, planting himself at the base. Jacqueline got the message and it made her eyes roll. Without words he was telling her he was taking watch again and she was to stop her insanity.

Jacqueline took her time with the stew, staring into the flames. She knew she needed to let go. Stop trying to convince such a stubborn man to see things differently. He never would. Every so often she glanced his way. Foolish, stubborn man. Did he honestly think he could do everything himself? He tried desperately to get her to behave like a lady and let him do everything. If he kept going like that they were likely to get killed in some idiotic way. Though after a little while, full darkness upon them, she noted his odd posture. Anything but alert, head tilted forward. Red brows raised curiously at the sight. She rinsed her bowl out and walked quietly over to Friderick. She was still a few feet away when she heard the gentle snoring. Her lips twitched into a lopsided grin. Some watchman. For a moment she was tempted to shake him awake and tease him for his stubbornness. The moment passed quickly, however, and her smile grew more gentle.

Padding closer Jacqueline settled down at his side. He needed his rest after all, no matter how much he argued about it. She could keep watch for him, let him sleep there. A small amount of space lingered by them as she sat there, letting him snooze away. He was going to be so very angry when he woke. She smirked her amusement at the bewildered anger she was certain to see. As her mind wandered at the thought she didn't noticed him slumping further and further over. Not until she heard the whisper of bark being scraped and a heavy thud against her side. Jacqueline had to brace herself with an arm as Friderick's weight fell onto her shoulder, his head resting atop herself. She blinked a moment before snorting, pinching nose and lips to keep her laughter silent even as her body shook with amusement.

It wasn't long before her neck began to ache, bearing the weight of his thick skull as well as her own. She kept her motions slow, edging her body out from under him. Wriggling her shoulders and hips to let him slowly slide all the way down her front she adjust until he was laid out on the grass with his head pillowed on her thighs. Jacqueline heaved a relieved sigh, he slept through the whole process. Leaning against the tree once more she sighed contently before looking back down at Friderick. He looked so different asleep. The muscles in his face relaxed in repose, long lashes resting against strong cheek bones. She could feel her face warming and her heart beating just a little faster. Lord above why make such a fine specimen so hard headed? Jacqueline looked up and around. Stupid, there wouldn't be anyone else there. Of course it was clear and she looked back down to him. A hand reached out and brushed his hair back from his face. The soft, silky, slightly curling strands slipped through her fingers. Her motions were kept slow and gentle as she stroked his hair back.

All through the night she idly stroked his hair as he slept on her lap. It was so peaceful and comfortable, as if this were nothing new. She didn't even wake him when it should be his turn for watch so she could sleep. The night gave her time to think. Consider how best to get Friderick on her side. They still had quite a few days to go. Perhaps she had been boorish, letting her emotions get the best of her. Rather than lecture him right back or push herself into chores perhaps there was another way. Most importantly was to push aside the foolish notions of him fancying a woman that wanted to be a knight. The thought made her cringe and stopped the idle motions of her fingers a moment. He'd made it clear, by his incessant chasing of Aurainne, the sort of woman he preferred. It made sense given his beliefs on societal structure. Her fingers resumed the gentle, idle stroking of his hair. She'd just have to enjoy the time while she could.

Dawn broke with little ceremony. The dark clouds still lingered overhead, the air chill and damp. Jacqueline's eyes were heavy and ringed in dark circles but she had stayed up all night to keep watch. She should get up; stoke the fire and reheat the stew for breakfast. Just a little longer. She almost wished the night could have lasted.
 
Friderick, the Baron of Alnerwick, was having a dream.

The cracked walls of his castle had rolled back, replaced with smooth walls covered in tapestries and murals. He strode down marble corridors, to the saluting stamps of spears striking the ground as he passed, though he saw no men or guards to speak of. He faintly could smell the sea, a salty breeze flowing in through windows unseen as well. There were doors at the far end, which he felt a great urge and ambition to cast back and enter to find the joy of his life. A home. A wife. A family. It was there, right there, and the doors proved little obstacle as he flung them back, unveiling a Kingly bedroom. And the body of a woman laying upon the bed.

She had red hair. A small physique. And when she turned to him, sparkling blue eyes greeted him with a smile as bright as the one on her lips. Friderick saw who it was…and knew it to be wrong. Yet he could not run, walking forward with the same relentless stride that had brought him here. Lady Jacqueline rolled from the bedside to stand, her naked form as clear and vivid as the day he had seen her. It was glorious, more so than words could ever describe.

He walked up to her. He knelt before her. And wrapping his arms about her midsection, he pressed his cheek warmly to her stomach, nuzzling himself in with the greatest comfort and safety.

Then reality hit and he burst up from Lady Jacqueline’s lap where he had fallen over, upright and rigid, wide eyed and breathing fast. At once he grounded himself, noticing familiar trees, the sight of his horse, the pitched tent, and the smouldering ashes of a fire. And the presence of Lady Jacqueline beside him, not asleep in her tent as she should be, but having come beside him on watch, where he had fallen into a deep slumber. It was…humiliating. And he rose to his feet, blood rushing to his head in a wave of dizziness at the abruptness of the stance. He didn’t care. He had to put distance between himself…and his failure.

“I should not have fallen asleep.” He simply said, moving to step in the ashy pile of their fire and putting it out, before moving to begin dismantling their tent. “Ready yourself. We leave in a hour.” He said drily. He wanted to be gone from this place, from his failure and his…dream. He realized then that he had never dreamt about Lady Aurianne in such a fashion. In fact…he never dreamed about her at all. So why all the wasted effort? Good thing he had walked away from Lady Jacqueline when he had. Friderick knew what came every morning for him and all men of their species. But now? It was exceptionally strong and stiff. And he felt a strong desire for release. His mind flashed an image of who with but he shut that down immediately.

This must be a curse. It was against all tradition and ethic. He could not. Not with her. The sooner he got rid of her, the sooner he could be himself. But his heart now easily persuaded him that once he parted with her…the desire would only become stronger.

And if there was ever to be a fulfillment of this dream, he could not let her go off on her own. She would be killed. Or worse, taken advantage of and ending up in some bad end. For much of the journey, he did not speak to her, though often he did look at her with a strange confusion. One of conflict. Could he? Should he? The debate went on. And when he finally decided on an answer, it was too late.

There nestled on a hill on one cold morning…was Lancaster.

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A half day’s journey to go. They were in the outlands of the Duchy, on grounds tenanted out to Count Raphael Arn, one of the four marcher lords of Lord Lancaster who guarded the four cardinal approaches to Lancaster itself. If an invading enemy were too approach, they would find the hills, outfields, and roads guarded by these strong castles, before having to approach the main fortress-city itself. A dozen villages of all sizes provided economy and support to the castle. Four parishes. The major trade guilds all had an office in the castle town about Lancaster. Some of the peasants themselves were large and bulky, indicating a healthy harvest and productivity.

Even the tavern they entered, the Discreet Pie, had a selection and variety of ales and wines, rather than a single house choice that patrons were forced to get. They could have a hot breakfast for once. The horses were tethered and fed the good oats. The bathing chamber would be prepared for them. All on ground floor. The innkeeper didn’t recognize Lady Jacqueline. And Friderick didn’t introduce her as such. At their table, they were brought steaming stew, meat and vegetable mix, as well as a large pitcher of ale. It might be their very last, unless a decision was made.

And Friderick just might, though after all he had said, he didn’t have the courage to acclaim it first. Nor was he entirely sure it was the right thing to do. But the more he looked into her face, into those eyes, he knew he would never truly be free of her. So if I’m going to be tied to your cart, you hellion, I might as well be the one driving right?
 
The coming dawn was peaceful. The sky turning from dove gray to soft pink then brilliant red and oranges. Friderick still slept in her lap, his gentle breathing and soft winds the only sounds until birds began their morning greetings. Jacquelines fingers still played against the soft chestnut strands of his hair. Her eyes burned and her mind was a little fuzzy from being awake all night. If he was wise he’d just accept they both needed their rest and should share the burden of watch. Silly thought of course. He was as stubborn as they came.

The horses were beginning to stir and stamp, ready for their breakfast. She should probably wake him but she was far too content even with her drooping eyes. Friderick’s sudden and jarring jerk awake made her start. Her hand smarting from the harsh contact with his thick skull she looked over at he sat there in bewilderment. Had he been having a nightmare? He hadn’t stirred in the least while sleeping. Jacqueline watched him as he settled himself and stood just as suddenly. She rose up with him and canted her head at his short comment and orders. Despite a decent night of sleep he certainly was grumpy. Jacqueline snickered behind his back as he set to tearing down the camp. Of course she tossed herself in to help out, especially with feeding the horses and getting them ready for the ride.

The final legs of their journey were a strange one. An odd silence hung over them like a dreary cloud. Occasionally she caught him looking over at her with a strange look. Perplexed or worried? Maybe he still feared she would run off on him. Once or twice she caught his eye and gave him a puzzled little scowl. If he had something to say he should just say it already! Yelled the pot to the kettle of course. For a change she kept her own mouth shut. As stubborn as he was she knew constantly badgering with her wants to remain would fall on deaf ears. There was no point to waste the breath. As they drew nearer to her home her own silence grew cranky and sullen. She wasn’t ready to be done with it all. Wasn’t ready to leave the road, and Friderick, behind a veil of heavy silks and brocades.

Passing through the county of Raphael Arn was easy enough. They were respected travelers and were not bother by any soldier guarding the roads. A fine, sweeping land of good soil to farm and raise animals the land was beautiful as a warm summer fast approached. Though they stopped at an in for a hot breakfast and baths. Close enough to home it made sense to get cleaned up before presenting themselves in her father’s halls.

With the horses well taken care of Jacqueline followed Friderick into the in and sat with him. A fine, thick stew was served along with a pitcher of hearty ale. Her stomach grumbled happily at the sight. Sure Friderick’s simple game stews were fine and well but she did miss other things besides watery rabbit soup she had to admit. Still it was quiet as she dug into the meal. Though after a few hearty quaffs of ale and spoonfuls of stew she registered eyes on hers. Green eyes lifted to meet his blues and her eyebrows pulled into another puzzled scowl. “What?” she finally confronted him. “If I was planning on running off on you don’t you think I would have done it before reaching the duchy?” Her voice was a low hiss over her bowl of stew. “I gave you my word that I would not try to run. Does that not suffice even now? This would be easier if I was as horrible and dishonest as you think I am.” Somehow her tone was both sad and vicious as she spot to him.

Perhaps it was the half tankard of ale on a partially empty stomach but she felt somehow bolder and sadder than she had all of their trek. “I wish…you still thought I was a boy. I’m not ready to leave all this behind…not ready for you to leave without me. You know full well my father wouldn’t deign to find a knight to train me and even if he did I don’t want…” She stopped herself again, her eyes darting away from his a moment, her ears suddenly red hot. “I don’t want another teacher…” She muttered down at her stew, just barely audible. “But what I want has never really mattered,” she said with an indignant little huff as if to brush off the momentary stumble.
 
The irony was not lost on Friderick, how Lady Jacqueline was now committed to his rule of returning her home for judgement on her unladylike behavior, whereas finally in his mind he was coming to accept that her behavior…might not be so wrong. She had an affinity for swordplay like no other squire or youth of her age that he had ever seen. How could he continue this trade knowing no other would ever compare to her agility and speed? Perhaps he should just hang up his sword and commit to the life of a sedentary lord. Yes, he should definitely give it all up, because the perfect candidate to train and teach just happened to be a girl. He should go and sit in dismal idleness because of this gender transgression.

He did not answer her unjustified accusation, though in days past it was well warranted. There seemed to be something else in her tone though than the usual venom and spite at his mandate. The end was coming. The hour of judgement would happen today. All her hopes and dreams would fall to ashes. And he, Friderick, would return to Alnerwick to live a life of uneventful normalcy. But what he did not expect was the sudden admission of wanting to keep going. To forget she was a girl, to continue their deeds and adventure. He had voiced there was still a chance, if her parents acquiesced, but that was more unlikely than the sun turning green. There could be another knight to finish her training. But she didn’t want anyone else, even with her parent’s blessing. She just wanted him.

There was a strange bubbling in his body. Elation. Who could fight against such sensation, the joy of being needed and wanted by someone so…fair and beautiful and skilled?

But it was all over right? Once he brought her to the gates of her great familial castle, she would be consigned to a guard of her own household and once those gates shut, he’d never see her again. Well perhaps he might, but only from afar, given their difference in rank. And besides, he had dishonoured her by…looking upon her as she bathed, seeing her most intimate secrets and places. They all flashed through his mind, in greater force and vividness, than before. What would the little pink places on her body taste like? He had the image of cherries or strawberries, given the hue of her hair. His mouth watered at the idea of tasting it.

No, that was wrong. And he couldn’t let his next decision be based on that. But all of it was based around her…sex. Even taking her home was a decision made in that vein. Friderick picked up his drink and drank from it deeply in lieu of answering Lady Jacqueline. Even if he wanted this, how would they make it happen? They were seeking for her anyways.

And he was wrong. It wasn’t “if he wanted this” it was now…”how can he make it happen”?

He didn’t know then if this next remark of his would be cruel and baiting to her or not. But Friderick had to ask, because he needed to know, otherwise the riddle would haunt him forever in those lonely nights in Alnerwick, of which there were bound to be many. “Even if it did matter, how would you go about making it so then?” Friderick asked her in a low tone. “They are seeking you. And they will not rest until they have seen you. And once they see you, they will not relinquish you. Not unless its to directly consign you to an abbey or monastery. Your brother is already away. Returning will crash down his secret as well. They will seek him as well, with the same ferocity. How then, pray tell, will you assuage your parents and continue with your…pretending?”

He leaned back in his chair, hands folded over his abdomen, watching her across the table. “All the power of your parents is bent upon your finding. And from what I have seen, their power is very great. Even if we departed now, they will never stop seeking you. We shall become fugitives, though we committed no crime. Well, you at least. I shall be named kidnapper, among other names. Indeed, you cannot return home or continue on this path without ruining someone’s life, my own or your brother’s. You did not stop to consider how this game of yours might have caused such actions, did you?” It would come off as criticism. Indeed it was. But in truth, Friderick was seeking the answer, any answer, to how this could all be resolved…to how Lady Jacqueline desired it.

To go on…pretending. Serlena had an idea though.
 
Despite the general noise of the tavern everything fell silent. Her time with Friderick couldn't give her a hint at his thoughts. The admission was difficult though helped along with the generous drink. He was bullheaded and so steeped in the rules and customs of their society that it couldn't possibly matter. Jacqueline's green eyes bounced between her bowl of savory stew and Friderick, unable to look away but unable to look for too long. She watched from the corner of her eye as he took a long drink of the fine ale. The buzzing of swarming bees raged in her ears. Why was he suddenly so silent? Always quite with a sermon about his beliefs Friderick was terribly silent. Suddenly she wished for one of those long speeches, his lecturing and nattering.

She perked up and her green eyes suddenly settled on him. Ask and you shall receive said the good book. She had wished for a sermon and Friderick was finally ready to deliver. The message, however, surprised her. A harsh pang rang out in her guts at the low tone. She listened with rapt attention. It was small but it was goading and it was hopeful. Perhaps a false hope on her end. She wanted to think she might have finally burrowed through that thick skull of his. He spoke of things she was already painfully aware of. The search for her would be relentless. They could hardly ignore it for the search would carry on until true news was had. Jacque's whereabouts had to be kept as an even greater secret. She didn't even know exactly which monastery he had disappeared to.

As Friderick leaned back she leaned forward, nearly knocking her tankard over. Friderick's final criticism of the boney plan was a knife in her ribs. No, neither she nor Jacque had considered the true consequences of it. Certainly not for Friderick. Though she hadn't counted him finding out about her so soon. She also hadn't counted on caring what might happen to him. Horrid as it was he was supposed to just be a means to an end. Training and knighting. "I did not consider these things, no," she admitted with a small nod and a heaving sigh. "Certainly I did not expect to be discovered so soon and for this search to commence. A gaping hole in our grand plan," she said with a small, self-depreciating laugh.

It had to be a good plan. If that small ray of hope was to gain any more light she had to convince him all would be well. "I had mentioned a letter...from a convent. A reasonable contribution to their coffers can do some interesting things. One further away where they might be less inclined to pay a visit." Her speech was slow, her brows furrowed as she thought of such a location. "There is one place..." she said as her eyes went wide, the pieces falling together. "A perfect place really. They struggled to grow crops so a decent donations for winter supplies and..." She stopped again and glanced around the tavern. "This is, perhaps, not the best place to speak of this even in such a secluded corner. Come."

Too thrilled with the machinations Jacqueline hardly waited for Friderick to go with her. Her heart beat hard and steady against her breast. Maybe it could work. Maybe she could stay. Stay and learn to ride and fight. More over stay at Friderick's side and learn the trade from him. Giddier than she had felt since her and Jacque devised their little plot she rushed for their shared room to lay out the master plan.

Once inside she made sure the door was bolted and kept her voice low. "There is a convent on the far westerly lands of Lancaster. It is tucked away in the mountains that boarder the Black Sea. Far from any sort of town or village they can barely raise food for the winter. Father has sent envoys to try and convince the Mother Superior to abandon the building and move her flock to better grounds but she had refused every time. Though she is not shy with requesting winter supplies." Jacqueline kept her voice quiet as she paced, laying on the particulars of the convent, her tone growing more excited with each pacing pass. "I could pen a letter to Mother and Father saying I have joined the western flock. If it's in my hand they would be hard pressed to disbelieve it. Perhaps we could even convince the Mother Superior for aid in exchange of winter supplies."

Jacqueline's boots scraped to a halt. It was a decent enough thought but did hinge on a lot of 'ifs.' She looked over at Friderick curiously, her brows knitting with suddenly skeptical confusion. "I realize that perhaps I've just laid out a plan which you may intend to tell my family." She had been so excited at the tiniest thread of hope she hadn't even considered that he wasn't giving her any. That he still had every intention of dropping her off like a wayward lamb. "Am I mistaken to give you my trust?"
 
It was a surprise to get so blatant and easy a confession out of Lady Jacqueline. Ever since…her transformation back into a girl, rather than a disguised boy squire, she had been nothing but defiant and stubborn. Exactly how Friderick imagined any woman to be really when they had their hearts set on something. Perhaps this verbal confession might help her see the error of her way. It was a last ditch hope that proved futile of course. Whatever harm or discredit Jacqueline might do to others, she was entirely nonpenitent. Her only guilt was being caught. No, it had to go deeper than that. You have to show me why you deserve this and not because you possess capability to do so.

Slowly she began to speak on how it all might come about. A letter was good enough, in lieu of verbally spoken proof in the form of her actual personage. Writing in fact could work really well. What else did they do in these convents and monasteries anyways? Still, he was a little bit disbelieving when she voiced her parents might not come to visit. Don’t doubt that they will. There was little time to reflect on the consequences of that reversal when with a conspiratorial glance, Jacqueline eyed down the rest of the patrons before beckoning Friderick to a more private area to discuss it. After all, they were in the heart of her family’s power and land, even if momentarily unrecognized.

He sighed, but followed after a brief pause, leaving coins on the table for payment of the drink and food.

He walked into the room and did an about face as she locked the door. He raised his eyebrows. Really, was that necessary? She went on about this convent, located far, and isolated. Why any aspiring Sister would chose such a place was beyond Friderick. But the cover story was feasible enough. If she was as wild as she herself had once told him, would it make sense to pick the most remote and troublesome convent to join as a way to prove herself? That depended on how well Jacqueline could make her arguments in the form of her letter. He crossed his massive arms as she paced, going on with her thoughts. She really hadn’t thought this far but now that she was…it wasn’t so bad. Quick thinking on her feet, though it took some prodding from him to bring her to the true problem at hand.

So here they were, with a fuzzy scheme, which he was about to give his blessing to. Perhaps the stupidest thing he might ever do. And for what? A prodigy of a squire to train? Or perhaps something more…

“Depends on how foolhardy your letter is.” Friderick answered her at first. “So you – we – go and craft this letter in the common room. Then in the form of myself and your…alter-ego, we deliver this letter to some agent of your father or mother, who will then dutifully take it to your parents.” Friderick logically deducted how the next stage of her plan might proceed. Then he fixed her with a stern look. “Then your parents write a reply which gets sent to this convent. In which now depends how the Mother Superior looks upon your assistance or not. She is supposed to be a holy woman of the Faith. You expect her to lie for you? Even for a boon in terms of supplies and food?”

Friderick shook his head with a soft laugh of disbelief. Fooling lords and ladies was one thing. It was the game of politics after all. But a holy woman? “You underestimate just how much work is required. Where do you intend to get these winter supplies? You have to feed the whole convent? Where is the money coming from? How will you transport? What know you of going rates of wagons and carts and the borrowing of mules and horses for its drive? You ever managed any group of people before?” Friderick then challenged her, shaking his head again and looking aside. Near to the Black Sea she had said. He was not all unaccustomed to travel upon boats, big or small.

And as for the logistics, he could manage it, having been a Baron and learned administrator. Lady Jacqueline probably had little experience in such. He could teach her, naturally. She was destined to be more than just a knight and the heiress to all these lands, with its revenues and trade. It might seem like he was criticizing her ignorance on this but in truth he was trying to educate her on the realities. This wasn’t going to be a one job thing to appease the Mother Superior into supporting her claim.

But he was certainly appease, given how much he was now thinking on her…predicament. Ridiculous!

“Who is the Lord or tenant of the lands east of the convent, on the shores of the Black Sea? You obviously cannot organize such a donation of supplies on your own lands or it would soon reach your parents. You have to collect and gather these supplies from the townships and estates. We’ll have to garner them and deliver them, against dangers of both wild and brigands. It’ll be more dangerous than anything we’ve done before.” Friderick shot her a grave look. “And no doubt in our deliveries to the convent, you may intercept any reply your parents send, allowing you to be on hand to counteract any disagreement they might have with your…placement.”

It was settled then, it seemed. Write the letter. Find somewhere to post it, while giving them time to reach the convent and enter into service with the Mother Superior. A few deliveries, a near-famine avoided, and Jacqueline’s cover would be set, along with other vital lessons learned about management and rule. A good way to ride out the last months of the year before winter set in and the new tournament season began next spring.

He sighed and sank to the floor of their room. “Bring my lunch. Something hot. And more ale.” He suddenly ordered her. Which might be a surprise after so many days of being…distant. “And ask the innkeeper for parchment and ink, while you’re at. I’m going to eat. You’re going to write.” He simply said and tried to play it cool as he took immense interest in his lap, rather than look upon whatever expression might be on Jacqueline’s face. Relief? Excitement? Perhaps even indignation at being told to fetch his meal, which is something a squire should do…but not a Lady.
 
Jacqueline’s heart stilled as she waited for Friderick to speak. She hated the idea but everything hinged on him agreeing to the plan. It had taken enough work for him to even hear her out. Somehow it felt so sudden, so strange, that he was willing to plot with her. Despite the trepidation her heart sputtered a frantic beat as he spoke, adding more detail to the wild plan she had concocted. Green eyes wide as eggs she listened to him despite the excited thrum of her heart, pumping blood furiously in her ears. Though he was quite quick to point out a flaw in the plan. Asking a holy woman to lie for her.

His soft laugh slowed her frantic heart, setting a pit in her guts. Especially as he went on through the logistics of everything. The barrage of questions hit her more fiercely than he did when they sparred. More so when he thought she was a boy. Jacqueline’s lower lip found it’s way between her teeth, her arms folding across her stomach. She looked down to the floor, scuffing her boot heel on the old wood. She hadn’t thought of anything like that. With the barrage of questions the plan already seemed a doomed failure. Acquiring all those things seemed simple enough, she didn’t realize how much thought would have to go into it all.

Friderick, however, answered many of his own questions he had thrown her way. Though her head still hung a little low her eyes lifted to him as he went over where and how to acquire supplies. Her heart started up again with a little flutter. Was he actually helping her plan the charade now? A little jolt of excitement flashed through her, kept somewhat muted with her doubts on him actually wanting to help her. It was hard to imagine him changing his mind so quickly and suddenly. Jacqueline was still stuck on how vehemently he had argued against her staying as his squire.

With his slide to the floor she thought the conversation over. He had laid out ideas but hadn’t really given his blessing. Suffice to say she could move nothing forward until he agreed to play along. Her head jumped up as he demanded lunch be brought to him. That jolting tingle raced along her body once more. She was frozen, poised like a hound pointing out prey. Fetch pen and ink. She had a letter to write. Air sucked into her lung with a sharp gasp, a beaming grin breaking across her lips. “Of course,” she said in a high, excited squeak. She nearly ran for the door but stopped just as she unlatched it.

Jacqueline suddenly turned back around, elation coursed her veins more fiercely than any alcohol could. She could barely contain herself and went back to Friderick. Her knees hit the floor with a loud thud as her arms tossed around his neck. Her grip was strong as she hugged Friderick, the frantic thrumming of her heart thundered against his chest. “I promise to be an even better squire than before.” Though before she thought she had done quite a good job. Well she would just have to be even better.

Just as quickly as she had ensnared him in a hug she let go and ran off to fulfill his request. She was gone for a while leaving Friderick to stew in his decisions. After nearly twenty minutes she was back bearing a large tray. On the tray a myriad of items were balanced. A massive bowl of steaming stew, half a loaf of dark bread, a large hank of cheese, a plethora of dried and fresh fruits, a large tankard of fine ale as well as a jug with more ale, and a pot of ink. She had tucked a quill behind her ear and a couple piece of parchment into her belt. Walking more slowly given the load she carried she brought the tray straight to Friderick and placed it before him. She plucked the ink pot away and moved to lay on the floor to write the letter.

She worked in absolute quiet, her legs lifted at the knee and kicking idly as she wrote. Her tongue poked out from the corner of her mouth as she wrote furiously, the quill had to be creating a breeze with the speed she wrote. Though on occasion she made a small noise of annoyance and scratched something out. Eventually she paused to check what she had penned and nodded to herself, taking up another piece of parchment. This time she wrote more slowly, her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed in concentration. Her legs had stopped swinging and she leaned so close to the writing it was a wonder she didn’t smudge the ink with her nose. The quill scratched and scratched as she wrote slowly, carefully. Despite such small hands she never had the patient dexterity for fine work. Her mother lamented over how poorly she wrote, how terrible her needlework was.

Late afternoon quickly approached when she was finally done with the letter. Jacqueline stretched and sat up, reading over the letter one last time. Her scrawl was almost childish, uneven and poorly spaced. Jacqueline huffed a small sigh. Her parents would most certainly recognize her hand writing. “Alright…what do you think…?” Getting to her feet she presented the scrawling letter to Friderick.

Dearest Mother and Father,

I have tried time and again to pen a letter concerning my whereabouts time and again. Now I realize this has taken far too long and I have caused a great deal of worry and strife for you. I am safe with the Sisters of the Rock. I hadn’t the heart or courage to tell you in person of my desire to join the ranks of the Holy and devout. The sisters have been most welcoming despite their lacking supplies. This truly is a most wondrous place for worship and contemplation. I am set to take my vows within the fortnight to forever more be a bride of the Holy. This vocation, this life, has been everything I had hoped for and so much more. Once I am vowed into their ranks and earn my true place I shall come and pay a visit.

Love and blessings,
Jacqueline

“I thought promising a visit when rank is earned would help keep them from investigating or wanting to pay a call,” she said when it seemed he was done reading. “Since it can take upwards of three years to earn habit and wimple I thought it would give us…me…some time before needing to address the issue again.” If it needed addressing that far into the future.
 
Friderick thought the matter resolved for the moment and remained where he was in their tavern room, seated between the low cots on the floor. His sword lay on the ground beside him. One knee was bent and raised, the other leg stretched out, his arm laying upon the cap as he puffed up his cheeks and then blew out the air. His eyes were closed. What was he getting into now? What logic or sanity lay behind this decision? Only time would tell what the consequences and blowback of this scandal might be. He would be vilified for sure.

What he didn’t expect was the sudden leap by Lady Jacqueline right into his arms. Friderick gasped, his arms spread about as her smaller form clung to him with a surprisingly tight grip. Then his arms slowly enclosed, a soft smile forming on his lips, while inside a deep flutter flourished throughout his limbs. It tingled. When was he ever just held like this before? It felt good. In a burst and with a promise of betterment, Lady Jacqueline was up and gone before he could comment on this very unladylike behavior.

Behavior though that left him with a very pleasing tingle inside. Her relief was so palpable. Maybe this was the right thing to do. Look at the joy and thrill in her form. It was a joy and thrill he was denied giving to Aurianne. She was so undeserving of it. And Jacqueline so loyal and committed.

To her duties of course. Not to him. Not in that way. And perhaps his own lust was simply a byproduct of what he was denied. Maybe it would pass.

It didn’t seem likely when Jacqueline returned, bearing a tray, in a fashion most unbecoming of her position and status in life. A job for a kitchen wench, not for a Lady borne of high lineage. He was doubting his decision to command her so briskly already. Well it was too late to take it back, as she set it down before him, allowing him to eat his much craved for meal while she worked on her letter so diligently. She made adorable little puppy growls when the writing didn’t go her way. Well, he was never very confident in his letters either. The sword felt more comfortable in his hand, not a quill. He ate in silence, not saying or doing anything, allowing the Lady to work. And yes, that was going to be something to work on. To him, she was a Lady. To others, they would assume she was a boy. Jacque Lancaster, an adolescent youth who could barely grow a beard and who’s voice was still to develop. Some people were just late bloomers.

When she was ready, the letter was handed over and he took it, eyes scanning the document. “And if they do plan to drop in and visit you at the convent? Can you play-act as well as a devoted sister as much as you can as a boy?” Probably not the best thing to masquerade as, ethically. “The letter will suffice. You want to correct your name to Sister Jacqueline, to indicate your total devotion to throwing back the trappings of life and status for this.” He handed the letter back to her, content it would suffice. For now. “Normally it’s wise not to focus on future bridges to cross until you reach them but for something like this, we should prepare for every eventuality. For you this might be a game but some of us have a lot more to lose if things go sour.”

So they were going through with it. Well, it could still be stopped, if this letter was not sent or destroyed. But it was back in her hands now. “Well that’s settled.” Friderick said, seemingly more to himself than to her. “Now, how do we go about getting this letter to your parents? Who can be trusted to take it? They’ll also want to wonder why you, the girl’s brother, aren’t delivering the letter in person. We should…leave Lancaster at once and send the despatch from a neighbouring fief, where we won’t be identified.” Friderick then suggested, though it wasn’t up for a discussion.

“Make sure we are all settled up here. Ready the horses. We’re leaving before nightfall.” He then instructed her briskly. Rising to his feet, having eaten his fill, he then picked up his sword, girting himself with the belt and scabbard. “I’ll be out back. Come when you’ve handled everything.” He said, intending to go and drill a little on the tree, since this profession wasn’t now shut off to him like he decided before with Jacqueline’s lies. And if she finished up fast, she might get to spar with him. Again. After so many days away…
 
Jacqueline’s eyebrows rose with his first question. Could she play act as a devout holy sister? Possibly so but the odds of her evens knowing of their visit were slim. It would be difficult to learn the news and race to the convent. She had to hope the Mother Superior, if she decided to agree to the falsehood, would be quick enough to find a cover. Knots crept into her stomach as she took the letter back with a nod. The plan was solid enough but it gnawed at her. Friderick mentioning, once more, the implications for those getting involved. Jacqueline pinched the sides of the letter as she looked down at Friderick where he sat. She tried to convince herself she could ensure nothing bad would happen to anyone involved in the ruse. How well she could ensure that, however, she didn’t know. As he said she would cross that bridge if they got there.

Getting the letter out was, arguably, the simpler of all the tasks. She had some ideas on who the letter could be presented to for delivery. Friderick was quick enough to answer his own questions. A neighboring fief. The way he said it made it sound like a suggestion and her own thoughts might be heard. Right up until he rose and set his orders. Apparently it was less a suggestion and more exactly what they were going to do. Her eyebrows quirked but she didn’t argue against him. For the time being she figured being extra obedient would be wise. The last thing she wanted was for him to change his mind again. Besides she was downright giddy with the prospect of being able to continue with him. Why ruin it with an argument?

“Yes, right away,” she said with a sharp nod as he buckled his sword belt on. She thought it strange he was ready to leave so soon. One night with a roof and proper sleep for the pair of them would have been nice. Still she said nothing in argument. Once he was gone she cleaned up the room and grabbed the tray to return what was left and settle their account. The owner of the inn seemed perplexed at their late evening departure but shrugged it off. Knights were always off and away on one errand or another right? Damsels to rescue, rebellions to put down, brigands to slay. With everything settled she grabbed up their gear and headed out to the stables.

Both horses seemed to huff and grunt when being brushed and picked. They knew full well it meant a saddle and riding. Even William was being especially grumping, inhaling deeply as she tried to tighten his girth. Wingfoot was always crabby with her but even more so that day, raising his head to avoid the reins. “Listen you two this wasn’t my idea. I’d like a roof too so if you could stop being rude I would appreciate it,” she snapped at the pair of them. Not that it did much good given they didn’t speak the human tongue. Prepping the horses took the longest but they finally gave up their fighting tantrums and let her saddle and bridle them properly. Only their pack horse cooperated as she lashed their supplies to her. Old and placid she just happily munched her hay while Jacqueline worked. Finally done she went to find Friderick.

Back behind the inn she could hear the hollow sound of a tree opponent. Jacqueline rounded the corner and stopped. She was a fair distance behind him but she stopped to watch. Funny she never got much chance to just watch him fight. They spent far more time with him drilling her. There was something…rather inspiring about watching him drill. Something rather thrilling. That sheer strength and power. Her own technique, given her size, had to be different than his. She could never over power a foe but he could. Not until she felt a little, excited flutter in her guts and warmth in her ears did she realize how long she had been just watching. Watching the muscles under his shirt tense and flex with every swing and feigned parry. The unwavering stance of his strong legs. Lord above she needed to get herself together.

“The horses are ready Ser,” she called as she approached him from behind. “Wingfoot is especially grumpy this evening I’ll warn you.”
 
Friderick didn’t want to take any chances here. It was quite possible given his earlier mood that someone might have heard him address Jacqueline as…well, Lady Jacqueline. Whether openly or offhandedly, he couldn’t remember, but it wouldn’t do well to linger here given their new intentions. And that applied as much to his unspoken promise in his thoughts, as Jacqueline, or Jacque as she was now to be known as again, returned to give him a report on the horses. All ready, she said, along with an added Ser. That made Friderick smile a moment as he faced the tree, arm coming to a halt. Ah yes, and one day you shall be Ser Jacqueline. Humorous.

“That doesn’t surprise me. He’ll change his tune once he gets his hooves moving.” Friderick said, turning to face her, raising his arm to wipe his forehead off with the back of his sleeve. He looked down at her as she neared, so slender and petite. It was proved impossible to never see her as a girl again. It was just too obvious to him, especially the eyes and the face. Sure with the shorn hair and some grit applied to those cheeks she could pass off as an adolescent on the cusp of manhood, as squires are supposed to be. With a twirl of his blade, he immediately sheathed it. “We’re leaving now. Bring the horses out to the courtyard. I’m going inside to buy a few more items for the road.” Friderick instructed her and marched off past her. The more he saw her, the harder it was becoming to stick with this foolish plan.

He was going to need help in forgetting if he wasn’t to renege on his promise now. A few more silver coins from his tourney victory were expended in exchange for some bundled foodstuffs and several flagons of ale. Friderick returned to attach these to their pack animal, before mounting onto Wingfoot. Riders leaving as evening fell, most strange yet not uncommon. With the money they spent, the owner wasn’t going to ask no questions. Besides, the usual crowd was filtering in for their post-work day rest and relaxation so he would be quite busy. Enough to be forgetful those two ever came.

They were back on the road. Friderick, the Baron of Alnerwick, riding first in his knightly garb, one hand on the rein and the other resting over the pommel of his sword at his hip. Next would come his squire, hopefully remembering to carry aloft the standard of the knight to whom he was serviced to, with the pack horse trailing behind, tethered to them. Everyone was going past them to the inn, none traveling the road alongside them in their direction. No glances spared. Soon enough they left the heartlands of the Lancaster Duchy behind, heading to its frontier zones where it bordered either wilderness or the territories of other lords and nobles. The convent was a few days travel west, different from the northernly direction that they had come.

Dusk fell and the stars began to twinkle. Only then did Friderick allow them to turn off the road into a meadow a short distance to the side. There was no trying to impede Jacqueline’s help in setting up the camp. He let her make a tether line between two trees for the horses, he pitched the tent. She was sent off for firewood and kindling, he prepared the pit. As it sparked, Friderick unscrewed the cork off one flagon and drank the quality Lancaster ale down deeply, half astonished at how smooth it was compared to the swill that had been available on the road. And this is their outlands ale? When the fire was bright and roaring, he picked up his sword again, feeling a different sort of fire in his belly. Half the sky was immersed in darkness but there was still some brightness off to the west. The fire flickered off the polished flat of his blade.

“Come, we have a few moments to jolt your muscles back into remembrance, Lady Jacqueline.” Friderick stated in a teasing way as he moved to the opposite side of the fire away from their tent, where they had the most room. Time to work up an appetite. And it was entirely missed on him he still addressed her by that title.
 
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