Chapter 12: An Unprovoked Attack

Logan was still upset with Julian as the practice ended, and as Lee set about untacking and cleaning the horse's harness and gear, he decided not to leave yet. He might run into Julian on the way out of the stables, and he was still angry enough to get in a fight with the man. And the boy still seemed a little upset. "What did ya think? This the first time ya seen a knight's practice, ain't it?"

Lee smiled brilliantly, lifting Logan's spirits a little. "Yes it was. And it was great! I never knew you were such a good fighter."

Logan laughed a little, but it was a grim laugh. "Ain't that good, kid," he said. "Ain't never been tested on a battlefield. That'll come this spring." He paused. "Look, Lee…I want ya as my squire, don't get me wrong…but are ya sure yer up ta a battlefield?"

Lee turned to him. "You're asking me?" he squeaked.

Logan grinned a little. "Yeah, I'm askin' ya. A battlefield ain't no place fer little boys. Lot of blood and death, an' stuff'd make anybody sick."

Lee looked serious as he finished brushing Logan's horse down and watering him. "I watched a swordsman cut my parents down," the boy said evenly. "I watched them die. I saw the light go out of their eyes. I watched as he and his men cut down the rest of the people I knew, I loved, and cared about. They killed my best friend, and my best friend's parents. They almost killed me. I survived…but then I had to bury them. I've seen death, Logan. I looked it straight in the face. It doesn't scare me. And maybe if I'm there, taking care of you and your stuff, maybe a keener edge on your blade, or more flexible leather on your saddle, or secure stirrups, or anything else, I might be able to keep you alive. You're a knight. You have to watch the king. You need someone to watch over you."

Logan sat, stunned. "Ya really feel that way?" he asked.

"I do," Lee turned and looked at him. "Look. I know I've no business giving advice to a knight…but I watched the way your horse responds, and I noticed you have to haul on the reins. My parents had a horse trained to respond to leg and thigh pressure, rather than reins. It would leave your hands free to handle your sword and shield in a pitched battle. Can I teach your horse that?"

Logan thought about that. Having both hands free to fight would be a distinct advantage, especially as he knew his opponent would only have one hand free. The boy was clever enough to see that. Logan grinned. "Only if you teach me too," he said.

Lee looked happy. "Okay." He grinned. "Your horse's already had enough of a workout today; but my horse hasn't, and I've trained him already." Lee disappeared in his horse's stall, and began to saddle the dark bay he rode. Logan watched the kid tack up the horse with incredible speed and swiftness; most Squires couldn't move that fast. Logan wondered where the kid had gotten so good at tacking up…and then he remembered, back at the village, the string of traveling caravans. A few more pieces of the puzzle that was his squire clicked into place. Lee had to have been part of that traveling caravan; that's how he knew those acrobatics, how he'd gotten so good at tacking horses, and how he knew how to oil and clean leather so well. Logan opened his mouth to say something…and then closed it. The boy had more secrets; and since they didn't seem to involve Logan directly, he'd let the kid tell him in his own time.

Logan mounted Lee's horse and guided the horse out into the field. Lee pursed his lips and gave a piercing whistle. The horse stopped dead. Logan shook his head to clear his ears, and Lee came striding up. "That's the signal for stop," he said. "Or you can haul on the reins. Either way will work. Now drop the reins." Logan looked down at the strips of leather in his hands, and slowly put them down, looping them over the saddle horn. He felt peculiar, not having anything in his hands.

"Press your right knee into his shoulder. Right there. Don't use your hands, grip with your thighs to keep yourself on." Logan obeyed, slightly surprised when the horse turned left and started walking. "Now drop your heels. Let your toes touch the shoulder just behind the horse's elbow!" Logan did, and the horse stopped moving.

He spent the next hour learning the knee and foot signals that would guide the horse. By the end of that hour his thighs and calves smarted and ached from the pressure, and he had memorized all the subtle movements and touches that controlled the horse's gait, from a fast gallop to a trot, a walk, and a canter. And he didn't have to use the reins once. He was proud of that; having both hands free would be extremely useful in a battle. Lee finally whistled again, and Logan picked up the reins and dismounted, leading the horse over to the boy.

Lee grinned and spent a few moments patting the horse, then turned to Logan. "I'll teach your horse all the things he needs to know so you can control him like that on a battlefield," the boy grinned, taking the reins from Logan. "Right now I want to take him through his paces again; he was a little hesitant when you were on him. I want to remind him who's boss." And to Logan's complete surprise, the boy unbuckled the bridle and draped it over the fence, then placed hands on the saddle and vaulted into it. Patting the glossy neck, the boy urged his own horse out into the field.

Logan stared as the kid took the bay through his paces. Lee didn't need to whistle the horse to stop; a faint, barely perceptible movement of his legs and feet started, stopped, and turned the horse. A hand on the horse's neck started the horse in an all-out charge across the field; a dig in the ribs stopped the horse just short of the fence rail. Logan was impressed with this display and was about to call out to Lee when he heard hoofbeats, and a knight swept by. The black and yellow colors were Julian's. Logan stared as Julian drew his sword, which shone in the late afternoon sunlight.

That's no practice sword; that's Julian's battle sword! was Logan's first panicked thought. What the hell is he doing—!

Julian charged Lee and his bridleless horse. Logan expected the horse to rear and throw the boy again…but he didn't. Lee exerted pressure on the horse's flanks, and the bay danced out of the way of Julian's black gelding. Julian looked surprised too; then he hauled on his horse's reins to turn him and headed for Lee again, this time slashing with his sword.

Lee turned his bay around and rode by the knight, so close Logan could see the shock of Lee's bay's shoulder colliding with Julian's gelding's hindquarters. As the boy passed, Logan thought he saw a glint of something in Lee's hand, but he wasn't sure. And as he squinted, Julian charged the younger boy and his horse again. Lee ducked under the swing and the small shining thing in his hand flashed; Julian howled in anger as the sleeve of his tunic was ripped by his own dagger, which Logan realized Lee must have taken during that last clash. "First blood," Lee said, reining in the bay. "I win." He held the dagger out on his palm, hilt toward Julian.

Logan was impressed. If he had any doubts as to the usability of this new hands-free policy on a battlefield, Lee's little demonstration banished them. Logan was about to go to them when Julian, his face a mask of rage, cantered forward, took his dagger, and slashed at Lee with it.

Lee screamed, a short, sharp sound, as the dagger opened up a cut along his cheekbone. Logan roared in rage as he sprinted out to the field and grabbed Julian's horse's bridle. "What the hell did ya do that fer, huh?" He dragged the other knight out of the saddle, shoving him hard against the bulk of the black gelding. "It was a fair fight. I saw it. Lee coulda actually drawn blood there; ya know it, an' I know it. He didn't; all he did was rip yer tunic. An' ya go an' slash him! Ya coulda taken an eye out, ya know that?" Logan gritted his teeth and turned. Lee had dismounted and was holding a hand to his slashed cheek. "Ya okay, kid? Here, take yer hand off, let me see…" Lee obediently turned his cheek toward Logan, and Logan sucked in a breath at the gash. "Let's go git that cleaned up."

"Just a moment," came a stern, authoritative voice. All three turned, and dropped to one knee, for standing behind them was the King and the Weaponsmaster. He taught all the knights, all the squires, and the trainees; they respected him as much as they respected the king. "Sir Julian, I would like to know why you incited an attack on this boy."

Julian clenched his teeth. "This field is for knights to practice on, not for little boys to play silly games on. And he should know he's not supposed to touch another knight's weapons; only Logan's. And he ruined my tunic!"

"That 'little boy', if I am not mistaken, is a squire now. Squires and knights use the same field, though at different times. The knights' training period is over; I see no reason why you should have objected. And the dagger…while I must agree with you, a squire should never touch another knight's weapons without permission, you were hardly in a position to agree. And you charged him with a drawn, naked blade; the boy had a right to defend himself. And as for the tunic…" he turned to Lee. "Boy!"

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Lee croaked.

Richard softened his tone just a bit. "You will repair Sir Julian's tunic tonight before retiring, and return it to him when you are done."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Lee breathed.

And you," the King turned to Julian. "Your conduct was most unbecoming a knight of my court. Your oath is to protect the helpless and defend the weak. This boy is smaller, and weaker, than you. The attack was unprovoked, and you have dishonoured your vows. You will receive five strokes upon your back for that, administered by the weaponsmaster, in private. Untack your horse and report to the sale." He pointed to the large wooden building where the knights and squires practiced during the winter months when it was too cold outside, and then turned to leave. He stopped suddenly. "Sir Logan."

Logan gritted his teeth, but kept his voice respectful. "Sir."

"Your squire did touch another knight's weapons. As he is bound by the squire's laws, he must receive a switching. Take him to the squiremaster and have the boy given five strokes; then take him to the palace healer to have that gash looked at."

Logan found himself unable to respond. "Your Majesty," he said finally, in a choked voice, "The boy didn't know about the laws. It's only his first day. Have mercy, Your Majesty."

"Our command is given," The King said firmly, and without a backward look, he turned and left the practice field.

Logan stood slowly. Julian turned away from him, grabbing his own horse's bridle and leading the black gelding away; he'd put his horse away while the weaponsmaster got ready, then he'd go and receive his punishment. And Lee had to do likewise. Logan turned to the boy and saw the white, pale face. "Easy, boy," he said quietly. "At least it's not a whippin'."

Lee didn't budge. "What's a switching?" he asked in a barely audible voice.

Logan sighed and dug his boot into the dust. "Ya got ta take five strokes from a birch switch on yer back," he said. "Come on. Might as well get it over with."

"No!" Lee gasped, staring in horror at Logan. "No! Oh, no!"

"What?" Logan looked at the boy. Why did he look like he was about to faint?

"I—my people, the Easterners...have a rule about showing the body. We're not allowed to, especially little boys…" The kid was terrified. Logan bit his lip. They'd never had an easterner before.

"I can ask the squiremaster ta give ya the switchin' on the arms. I notice ya didn't have a problem with armless tunics this summer. Will that do?" King Richard insisted that everyone's beliefs be respected. That included foreigners. And this boy, with his straight dark hair and almond-shaped blue eyes, was definitely foreign. "It'll hurt more, though."

"I'll take it," the boy said determinedly, heading for the stables.

The Squiremaster stared at Logan in disbelief. "Julian did what?"

"Lee was out in the field with his horse an' Julian rode out an' attacked him. Lee palmed Julian's dagger durin' one close pass an' used it ta shed first blood so the attack would stop. The king saw, an' ordered Julian whipped ta punish him for provokin' an attack first; then he ordered me ta bring Lee here fer a switchin' fer touchin' another knight's weapon without permission."

Francis stared at the little boy standing beside Logan. "I do not want to switchthe boy! Not for this!"

Logan ground his teeth. "Francis, jus' do it an' get it over with! The King himself ordered it, so it's gotta be done. The boy's people got some funny notion of not showin' the body to other people. Arms only, I guess. So yer gonna have ta—"

"Father used to switch my palms when I misbehaved," Lee said softly, suddenly. "I'll hold my hands out for you to switch them."

Francis stared at the two small palms held out to him, then at the slim, whippy birch rod in his big hand. "I don't like this, Logan."

"Do it, Sir Francis." Logan's face was set and tight as he saw Francis raise the cane over those hands, then closed his eyes at the sound of cane meeting flesh.

Lee gasped, audibly, but made no other sound. Logan cracked his eyes open, and saw the boy standing there with gritted teeth and set face. Francis gritted his own teeth and swung again. And again. And again. And then, finally the last blow.

Lee squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back tears he refused to shed, and Francis and Logan both turned away, to give the boy a measure of privacy while he tried to get himself under control. Francis said kindly, "Lad, there's a bucket of water out on the step. The coolness should ease the burning." The boy fled the Squiremaster's cabin.

Logan blew out his breath and sat down heavily. "That went over better than I thought," he said heavily. "The kid's got a lot more guts and self-control than I thought."

Francis held up a hand. In the silence, both men heard the soft sobbing coming from outside the door. "Not as well as you thought?" Francis said grimly. Logan stared at the door, anguished, then made a motion as if to get up and go to the boy outside. Francis grabbed his arm. "Leave him alone, Logan. He doesn't want to seem weak in front of you. Let him relieve his pain in private." Logan sat down reluctantly; those soft sobs felt like they were tearing his heart out.

"I can't believe Julian'd do this," Logan said angrily. "I don't know what he was thinkin' when he charged out on that field."

Francis turned and looked at Logan gravely. "Julian is not the knight he used to be," the squiremaster said slowly. "He was an aggressive trainee and squire, but lately he has become downright brutal. I was talking with the palace healer about another trainee a few days ago, and he informed me that the servants are trying to avoid getting near him. The other day he pushed a maid down the stairs. The maid didn't see his face, but she did see the edge of a red cloak going by. You know that red cloak the King's Knights are supposed to wear when you are not on the practice field, and you're on duty for the King? One of those. And Julian is the only King's Knight who would do such a thing. The maid was lucky she managed to catch herself partway down those steps. The healer said that if she had gone all the way to the bottom of the steps she could have broken an arm, or worse." Francis looked troubled. "I have seen him leave the palace wearing that uniform, supposedly on the King's business…but he rides no horse, and he is back too soon. I don't like him, Logan. And word in the town (discreetly, of course) is that he looks now for playmates among the harlots who have dark hair."

Logan stared. "He wants Lee," Logan said. "He was tryin' ta push me inta givin' him Lee. The Queen ordered me ta keep him, that's the only reason I did."

Francis looked at Logan curiously. "Why would you wish to give up the boy?"

"I thought…at the time…that Lee needed someone who'd appreciate him better. Not me. I can do most o' this myself."

Francis shook his head. "If you had asked me, I would have told you to keep him as well. Lee…is different from the boys here. I can't put my finger on it, but he's different. He doesn't flirt with the maids, although God knows the girls do plenty of flirting with him. He might be too young right now, but when he becomes a knight that pretty face will guarantee him a bed partner every night!…But Lee worships you. Practically kisses the ground you walk on. He'd be the first one in the dining hall every morning, looking for you at the knights' table; if you didn't catch his eye, he'd be moody the whole day. It's not physical attraction, I'd recognize it if I saw it in a boy…but he's definitely attached himself to you."

Logan grinned. "Never been worshipped before."

Francis grinned at him. "Don't get used to it, either! When Lee makes knighthood, you'll have to find yourself another squire, and you'll have another saucy lad to deal with. Lee's a one in a thousand, Logan; you'll never find another one like him."

The door opened, and Lee appeared. His face was damp, but he was composed as he said, "Do you think I need to go to the palace healer?"

Logan and Francis both inspected the gash on the cheekbone. "It's not bad," Francis said. "You'll be okay, I think."

Lee bowed formally to Logan. "Then with your leave, Sir Logan, I shall go to my room and wait for Sir Julian to bring me his tunic. The sooner I get started on it, the better."

"Go ahead," Logan said, and Lee disappeared.

Jubilee was sitting quietly on her bed, sewing up another hole in Logan's standard when the door opened and Sir Julian came in. He was scowling, and his voice was harsh. "Here," he threw the black tunic he'd worn at her. "Fix it. And do it neat!"

"Yes, Sir Julian." Jubilee quietly switched her attention from Logan's standard to the ripped shirt. Julian didn't leave, however; she wondered if he wanted something else, and the thought sent shivers up her spine. Logan had said she was to tell him if the others did anything uncomfortable…was Julian's presence in her room sufficient reason?

"Squire!"

She put down the sewing. "Yes, Sir Julian."

He handed her a small jar of ointment with the palace healer's mark on it and said. "Put that on my wounds." He pulled his shirt off and sat down on the chest that held Logan's things in it.

Jubilee reluctantly opened the jar. She didn't even want to touch him, much less dress his welts! But he had ordered her to, and maybe he would go afterward…she touched her ointment-smeared fingers to the first of the five long, red welts on his bare back. They were welts only; not cuts. He wouldn't scar. She worked hastily, realizing that the ointment was helping the welts on her palms too.

Julian closed his eyes as those small hands touched him. The palms felt odd…he turned suddenly, grabbing the wrist and inspecting the palms. Five red lines crossed both hands, and he saw the fingers were swollen. "Why did you receive a switching on your hands?"

'My people must not bare their bodies in public," the boy replied, not meeting Julian's eyes. Julian found that deliciously submissive, and his desire for the lad grew. Angry, he pulled the jar out of the boy's hand, capped it, pulled his red tunic over his head, and left the room without a second look. He hoped the spring would come soon, so he could deliver Logan to King Gallas on the battlefield, and receive the squire in exchange. What did he care for the silly traditions of another people? What he wanted, he was determined to get.