Summer ought to be regarded as a stalemate season as well as winter. It was too bloody hot for this sort of thing. Not that there had been any actual fighting recently. The Zexen troops had been having a staring contest with the opposing forces for the past four weeks. No one had blinked yet. Her troops still milled about in the dusty heat, doggedly keeping up with camp duties, eager for an excuse to do anything else even if it meant burying a blade in human flesh. But no order had come from Percival. He still sat waiting for an order from Lady Chris who sat waiting and order from the Zexen Council who were waiting for the Lizards to make a move and Goddess only knew what THEY were waiting for. After eighteen years as a knight and another fifteen as a squire and foot soldier, Aurella understood the wisdom of allowing one's opponent to make the first move in such a situation. But that did not lessen the heat or the boredom that lay thick upon the camp. She herself was beginning to feel like a stuck goose simmering insider her own armor. If she were anywhere else she would have abandoned the iron overcoat but she and her soldiers were stationed at the front and so it had to remain on.
Aurella sighed and watched the armored young men under her command trudging between tents and couldn't suppress the old bitter tang that rose in her heart. The bloody heat wouldn't be so bad if she and the older women had had shorter jackets like the men and younger women, but no, first few women had been sent into battle wearing skirts. Skirts! That's what they amounted to. The original design of a lady's jacket had the hem hanging level with a soldier's calf, theoretically to conceal the scandalous distraction of a woman's trousered leg. Aurella rolled her eyes to herself. The extra-long coattails served no other purpose than to float decoratively in strong winds or wrap themselves about one's ankles when attempting to run. The style had been modified a bit over the years so that in front the legs were free. She remembered the fuss that had caused. As if there were any more to see of her legs beneath a thick knee-length tunic, baggy trousers and heavy boots. Still, decorum and discrimination persevered and she and Felicia and the other woman too poor to afford new jackets must ride into battle in modified gowns. Sighing inwardly, Aurella looked over at her young squire. Felicia's butter blond braids, done up in imitation of Zexen's Silver Maiden, lay fair and fuzzy from sun and wind on her head. Felicia had two more years before she could be knighted. At only sixteen she was still stretched and narrow beneath her armor, leggy and coltish from growing not yet finished. She was becoming quite the beauty, gold to Lady Chris's silver. No one would accuse her being weak or loose because she chose to cultivate her modest beauty. A small, motherly smile stole across Aurella's lips. Felicia would not have to put up with the kind of nonsense she had and for that she was grateful.
Turning her gaze towards the western border of camp Aurella noted Sir Percival seated at a camp table reviewing a sheaf of papers. With heat and boredom this heavy she supposed even paperwork had become a welcomed distraction. He was young, younger than she had been, and yet he was Lieutenant-General and an excellent one at that. Once just a common boy, and now he was one of the Six Mighty Knights and commander of his own troops. He had proven himself more than worthy of his name and title. He was a good leader as well as a good man. Aurella couldn't help the twinge of spiteless envy. He was a boy yet, in her eyes. While he was a strong and capable leader, it felt strange to take orders from someone young enough to be her son. It was her own imposed shortcomings that pinched her insides with shame for coveting a position that was not hers to desire. The Zexen army had indeed gone out of its way these past thirty years to show her that this was in no way her place. A woman's place was in the kitchen, or the parlor, or perhaps the market. Never the battlefield. Yet here she was, despite it all, one of the first of Zexen's female soldiers. There were others now, younger women who served alongside her and the men. No one bothered the young women much outside of the usual pranks and good-natured teasing. However, their predecessors still faced ridicule even after all this time. The present had not yet caught up with the past. Ah well. It didn't really matter now. She had other things to worry about.
Another few years and the Zexen army would be retiring her- since she wasn't likely to be promoted any further- sending her away to enjoy her remaining days with a home and family she did not have. She would have to beg- either for work, or for a husband- in order to live. Which was worse, Aurella was unsure. Certainly no man would ever have one of the original "Lady Guard" for his wife, much less such a grizzled old hen like her. She would be of no use in anyone's bedchamber, or kitchen, or parlor. Most likely she would be reduced to mucking stables or scrubbing laundry. Either way, it would be the final stroke, the last humiliation. She would never be able to hold her head up again.
But that was a matter that could be worried over later. Hoof beats were approaching, slow and measured. Someone was riding but without haste from the friendly edge of camp. Turning her head Aurella noted Lieutenant-General Lord Leo Gallen and his massive black stallion amble up the grassy track and between the rows of low canvas tents. Seven years her junior, Aurella had never had much of an opinion either way concerning Lord Gallen. She had, technically, worked with the man before, but always at a distance. She had never spoken two words to him outside of the bartering of orders. Indeed, Lord Gallen himself was loathe to waste words and usually confined his speech to orders and reports. It was a strategy Aurella favored as well, preferring to keep her comments to herself.
He cut an imposing figure as he, followed by his squire, dismounted and began marching towards Percival's little pavilion. It seemed unlikely Lady Chris would send one of Zexen's Six Mighty Knights on such a mission over a trivial matter. All eyes followed Lord Gallen's broad and gleaming back as he strode up to Sir Percival and saluted. The two men were too distant for Aurella to tell what they were discussing. Lord Gallen's usual frown of calm remained customarily fixed upon his thick features, making Percival's young face appear doubly soft. He nodded unblinking as Lord Gallen gave his report. When Lord Gallen had finished, Percival rested his elbow on the rickety camp table and thought a moment, gloved hand rubbing his narrow chin. His reply to Lord Gallen was unheard, though his expression of bland seriousness did not change. Aurella could only guess what they were discussing. She blinked as Percival lifted his chin and pointed a gloved finger directly at her. The conversation went on a few minutes more before they exchanged salutes and Lord Gallen turned and began to march towards her.
Aurella was not a small woman, her solid 5'10" frame nearly unheard of among Zexen women. A soldier's life had given her broad shoulders and arms nearly as thick as man's. Yet with all her woman's girth, she felt dwarfed before Lord Gallen's towering hulk. She met his narrow black-eyed stare as she met the gaze of any man- with calm defiance, daring him to ask what it was he wanted. He saluted; she returned it.
"Sergeant-Captain Aurella," he rumbled.
"Lord Gallen."
"Your troops will join with mine. We will be taking up positions east of the camp."
"When do we move?"
"Sundown."
Aurella nodded shortly. "We will be ready."
He gave a sharp salute, waiting only long enough for Aurella to return the gesture before turning on his heel and striding away to collect his horse and squire.
The eastern edge of the border was not much different from the previous encampment. It was still dusty, it was still hot, and it was still boring. Or would have been if Lord Gallen hadn't been there. He didn't go out of his way to insult her of course, yet she couldn't help feeling that he- like many others- did not entirely welcome her company. Perhaps she was being a trifle unfair. He respected her enough not to look over her shoulder every five minutes, and trusted her to obey his orders and to give intelligent instructions to her own troops. Not everyone was so willing to allow her to do her job. Not that there was terribly much to do at the moment. The troops, now excited by the move, were eager for greater action. Aurella herself had begun to itch with unsatisfied anticipation. Something had to happen soon. Like a gathering summer thunderstorm, it might take days but the clouds would surely break and when they did it would be with the full fury of the elements.
"Sergeant-Captain." Lord Gallen had positioned his hulk next to her.
"Lieutenant-General." She nodded politely.
"The troops are in position?"
"They are."
"Good."
A brief stretch of silence. Aurella wondered what he could be waiting for. He had not actually looked at her the entire time. Both stood side-by-side facing forward, eyes fixed on the distant horizon. Sir Leo's chiseled face remained impassive. She felt first his eyes turn to appraise her, followed by the rest of his face so that he was looking down at her over his spike-capped shoulder.
"You carry an axe." He said at length. It took all of Aurella's willpower to keep from grinding her teeth, her hand moving reflexively to touch the weapon at her hip.
"I do."
"Why?"
Lord Gallen himself carried a battleaxe almost as large as he was. Was he making a simple observation, or was he seeking to poke fun at her? How best to answer?
"Some situations require an axe."
"And yet you carry a sword as well," he nodded at the sheathed shortsword strapped to her back.
Perhaps he was simply trying to aggravate her. Aurella's answer was clipped and smart.
"Each are single-hand weapons. I cannot wield something almost as tall and heavy as I am myself."
Lord Gallen nodded. "Indeed not. But why keep both? Why not discard one for the other?"
Aurella turned to meet his dark-eyed scrutiny.
"I carry both because it might be unwise to leave the other behind."
He nodded thoughtfully, apparently satisfied with her answer.
"Which do you prefer?"
Aurella blinked. Was this some sort of attempt at conversation? What was he driving at? Eyes cast down, she thought before she answered.
"I have no preference. Either serves me well. If I must fight with an axe, I shall fight with an axe, if with a sword, then with a sword."
"Few women carry axes these days."
Aurella raised an eyebrow at him. Although his expression had not changed she was certain he was trying to taunt her. He knew very well the so-called "Lady Guard" had been forbidden the use of swords until well after they had been knighted. Five years had passed before any woman had been grudgingly allowed to wield what had once been considered a weapon fit only for a noble.
"It was my first weapon, Lord Gallen." Was Aurella's icy reply.
"I first used a sword. I prefer an axe."
A pause during which Aurella seriously considered walking away despite not having been dismissed.
"I look forward to fighting alongside you."
Aurella stared blankly as he raised his arm in salute. Without thought she copied the motion and watched as he turned his back and walked away. What on earth had that been about?
"TAKE THAT BACK!"
"WHY SHOULD I?!"
"TAKE IT BACK AT ONCE!"
"NO!"
The sudden scuffle quickly became a brawl so loud that Aurella dropped her curias and polishing cloth and grabbed for her sword, certain Lizards had snuck around their flank and was attacking from behind. Due to the gathered crowd of onlookers, it was clear that it was not Lizards but two squires rolling about in the dust cursing each other. Aurella's eyebrows rose in horror as she realized one of the combatants was Felicia.
"STOP IT!" she barked, elbowing through the spectators towards the brawling teenagers who had now abandoned fists and insults for weapons. Aurella had to dodge a few careless slashes before she could get close enough to separate the combatants.
"THAT IS ENOUGH!" she bellowed, steeping between their sweeping blades to block them with her own. Felicia's short sword connected loudly with her knight's longer blade.
At once the weapon fell from Felicia's hands and her eyes widened in horror at the sight of Aurella's stern face. Without stopping, Aurella turned to disarm the other squire but his blade fell at an unpracticed angle. It slid down off the point of her blade, nicking her left arm just above the elbow before clattering to the dusty ground. Both teenagers stood with eyes wide, all too aware of their inappropriate display.
"You bloody fools! What in hellfire do you think you are doing? Have you completely taken leave of your senses?" Aurella shouted, pain fueling her fury. "Are you so bored that you must battle each other?"
"But I..." the young man Felicia had been arguing with stepped forward to make apology but got no further. Lord Gallen had lifted his hapless squire by the nape of his neck and held him dangling several inches above the ground.
"What do you think you are doing?" Lord Gallen growled, his hawkish nose inches from the boy's snubbish one.
"I...I..." his squire stammered.
"Your tent." he barked, dropping the boy and shoving his back so the unfortunate squire had to stumble to maintain his balance. "NOW."
The squire did not have to be told twice. A small plume of dust rose behind him as the boy bolted for Sir Leo's small pavilion. Aurella rounded on her own squire. Felicia's oval face paled. Pausing only long enough to snatch up her fallen sword she bolted towards Aurella's tent.
Aurella then turned her murderous scowl upon the gathered crowd. It did not take them long to find reasons to be somewhere else. Exhaling loudly, she shook her head.
"Children..." she muttered.
"Indeed..." Lord Gallen agreed. One of his thick eyebrows rose a few degrees. "You're bleeding."
A protest died on her lips as she realized he was right. Without her armor, only a single layer of woven cloth protected her arms. The squire's blade had not cut her deeply, but the wound was bleeding freely, staining her sleeve with red, sticky wetness. Cursing under her breath she began to search her person for a handkerchief but found none.
"Here." Lord Gallen had produced a sail-like square of unused, if dusty, linen. Before she could insist that it was no more than a scratch, he had wrapped and tied the handkerchief securely about her arm.
"There." he said, straightening to his full, imposing height. "I do apologize for my squire's behavior."
"And mine," Aurella swallowed, taking an extra second to find her tongue. "They may be knights-in-training, but they still have some growing up to do."
"Indeed." The corners of his mouth twitched upward in a vague suggestion of a smile.
"If you'll excuse me, I must see to my squire."
Lord Gallen nodded and saluted. Aurella returned it and headed for her pavilion. Felicia sat inside, industriously polishing the armor Aurella had left behind. She chanced one brief glance up at Aurella and polished still harder.
"Felicia..." Aurella's tone was not unkind but brooked no nonsense. The girl looked up guiltily, her blonde braids in disarray and dust thick on her face and clothing.
"Would you care to tell me what that was all about?"
Felicia swallowed hard before answering.
"H-he insulted..."
"Insulted whom?"
"Well...he was teasing me for wearing my hair up like Lady Chris..."
"Felicia that is hardly a reason to draw your fist at someone, much less a blade."
"W-well...that's not all he said..." An angry scarlet flush had crept into Felicia's cheeks. Aurella raised an eyebrow.
"What else did he say?"
"He said...he said any squire of yours wasn't fit to imitate the Silver Maiden! He slandered you! I couldn't let him do that!"
Aurella sighed and rubbed her temples. The subject always made her head ache.
"Felicia...people have been spreading scandal about me since before you were born. It is nothing I haven't heard before and nothing I will not hear again. You know it isn't true and that should be enough for you. You cannot help what other people think."
"But he slandered you!" Felicia protested, tears in her eyes.
"Enough!" Aurella snapped, her tone much harsher than she'd intended. Felicia shrank back at her shouting.
"Enough..." her tone was softer. "Felicia...I'm glad that you don't believe the ridiculous things people say about me, and I appreciate your defending me, but you cannot go about threatening people. Such times use your tongue, not your sword. If someone doesn't believe you, that is their misfortune."
Felicia nodded dumbly, chastened.
"Once you are finished here you will apologize to Lord Gallen's squire for your behavior."
"But...!" Felicia's protest was cut short.
"You will apologize." Aurella's insistence was stern. "Not for what you believe to be true, but for how you behaved."
Felicia nodded in mute acceptance.
"Good. Now finish up."
"Sergeant-Captain...?"
Aurella stopped short in the act of exiting the tent.
"I know I'm not supposed to ask but...well...who gave you that?"
Aurella looked down to follow the line of Felicia's pointing finger and found herself staring at Lord Gallen's makeshift bandage.
"Oh. Lord Gallen."
Felicia's eyes grew disconcertingly wide and an unpleasant realization dawned upon the older woman.
"Oh sweet Sadie, Felicia it isn't like that! His fool boy of a squire can't swing a sword straight. He nicked me while I was pulling the two of you apart."
"Yes ma'am." the answer was perfunctory, automatic and Aurella knew the girl had not believed a word she said.