A/N 2: I don't know how an army works, so for the sake of this story there are six captains, each over one sixth of the army. Two generals, each over three captains, a head general over the two of them, and then the king over everything. So this will be like, somewhere between the 900s and 1100s before England was united. After the fall of the Roman Empire and the Germanic invasions, but before the Crusades. It was all broken up into tribes with a king and they were constantly at war. In case no one noticed, I happen to be in world history studying the formation of western Europe. So there are a bunch of nations here that I've named and created. Draden will be one of the largest and wealthiest, though.
For The Hand of A Lady
By: Peppermint Stick
Chapter One, The Princess and The Captain
Tristan crouched in the bushes, hand gripping his bow tightly. Next to him, his second in command and closest friend Jess was crouched as well, his gaze following the captain in the front of the line. A group of men was making it's way through the forest, a day's journey away from castle Draden. This wasn't all, though. Most of the enemy army was two day's journey behind. They were part of the military of Gilbren, the kingdom on the other side of the sea, and this was a party that was sent early to scout out the land and attack the outer villages of the kingdom, setting up a fort. Draden and Gilbren had been feuding for years, but it had just recently turned violent. This wasn't a war. It was only a battle. He didn't think it would ever become as bad as a war. The king knew this attack was coming, so he'd ordered Tristan and a small band of his soldiers to ambush the scouting party. Now that they were here, he realized that they were outnumbered three to one.
In the other two clumps of bushes in the clearing, other archers of the Dradian army waited for his signal. He slid an arrow gently from the quiver at his hip and laced it through the string, Jess following his lead. He looked over at the bush Colin and Finn were crouched behind, watching him for the okay. His eye was caught by a man walking uncertainly towards the bush that was shielding Logan and Tristan's own cousin Aiden. He pulled back the string, narrowed his eyes, and released it. The arrow made a gentle whizzing noise as it tore through the leaves of the bush, sailed through the air, and impaled the man in the left side of his chest, piercing straight through his leather protection and through to the backside of his shoulder. He stopped, his eyes widening. It took the men around him a moment to realize what had happened, and by the time they figured out what direction the arrow had come from, six heads and torsos were out of the bushes and firing dozens of deadly accurate shots.
Twenty more men seemed to melt out of nowhere as they came from behind trees and hidden positions in the underbrush. That was one thing Tristan would give their army, they had a knack for camouflaging themselves. Hand to hand combat ensued and he pulled a sword from one of the fallen Gilbrenian men. Aiden and Colin, the two deadliest shots in the army, were picking off the other men like flies, and when he heard the buzzing of an arrow flying past his ear and a man behind him fall, he knew who to thank. He turned his head to look at the fallen man behind him and saw two figures break from the battle and streak off in the direction back towards the shore and the entire Gilbren army. He glanced at Jess, knowing that his second would have seen them break. The raven haired young man looked at his friend. Runners. The Gilbren army kept their two fastest runners at the end of the line to run back to the camp and warn the men if needed. Within moment of locking glances and exchanging silent understanding, they both bolted after the runners.
It took several minutes to catch up with them, and once they were in throwing range, Jess pulled one of the knives from him clothes, launching it at the one on the right. It hit him in the shoulder and he faltered, but kept running. Tristan took one of his own blades and hurtled it towards the unwounded runner. It sank three inches into his leg. He stumbled and fell, but yelled at the other to keep running. He slid it from his leg and pulled his arm back to slash either Tristan or Jess as they came by him. Without losing any speed, Tristan launched his foot into the man's nose and tore the knife from his hand, continuing after the other runner as Jess tied up the fallen one.
It didn't take long to catch him since he was wounded, and Tristan tackled him, turning him over once he fell. The man winced because of the cut on his back, but was clutching Jess's knife in his hand. He stabbed it at Tristan's chest, but he moved to the right; slashed at his stomach and tore the skin, but he didn't have time to look down at it. He tore the knife from the man's hand, but was thrown off as the enemy jerked to the side sharply. The Gilbrenian man took another knife from his tunic and moved to stab the younger captain as he laid on the ground, but Tristan grabbed his wrist in mid swing and his foot met the man's chest. He was thrown several feet and the side of his head made contact with a small, jagged boulder, knocking him out. Tristan stood quickly and saw that he was bleeding from his temple. He grabbed the man's wrist for a heartbeat and there was nothing. He stood and used his foot to roll the runner over before leaning back down and feeling the pulse at the top of the man's neck. Definitely gone.
He was breathing heavily from running for the past fifteen minutes, and he closed his eyes, shaking his head quickly before looking back down at his stomach. He touched the stinging cut and pulled his fingers away. It had cut a little deeper than he'd thought. He looked at the body on the ground and picked up Jess's knife, wiping the blood off on the dead man's shirt before jogging back the way he'd come.
It took Tristan, Jess, and the wounded runner half an hour to get back to the rest of the men. They'd only lost two, but most of the Gilbren men lay dead, the rest tied and on their knees. The men looked to their captain and one came forth, "Jonas and Mark are dead."
Tristan nodded, swallowing hard. Mark and Jonas were two of the men he'd known the longest while serving the king. "Bring their bodies. We need to get these prisoners back to our camp." He called for Aiden. "Go to the city and inform their families." The seventeen year old nodded and took off for their camp to get a horse to make the journey back.
Night had fallen by the time they got back to the camp, and Tristan went immediately to the king's tent. As he made his way, men bowed their heads in respect. He may have been the youngest captain in the army, but all of the men knew he belonged where he was. All of the men respected him. He was more than ten years younger than the next captain, but he was one of the best. That was what the men said, at least. He wasn't cocky enough to make that claim of himself. He was nineteen now, but had been given a sixth of the army to command and been made a captain at seventeen. He didn't know why, but the head general had seen something in him, and hadn't been disappointed. He was halfway to the tent when, out of breath, two of his men ran to him. They were Austin and Eric, the two soldiers he'd sent earlier to stakeout Gilbren's camp.
"What's the report?" Tristan asked. It didn't look good
"Ten thousand men strong, captain." Eric panted, grabbing Tristan's biceps.
His eyes widened and he grabbed Eric's shoulders, "Ten thousand?" He nodded and Tristan swallowed hard, taking note of how out of breath his men were, "How long have you been running?"
Austin spoke, "All day and all night. We took shifts sleeping, and while we were both awake watching them, three of their men found our sleeping mats and horses. We caught them before they could get back to camp. We killed them, but had to run. One was a high ranking officer and will be missed. We had to get out as soon as it happened."
Eric spoke again, "Their camp is a day and a half away from ours and they'll march again at sunrise. If we go to meet them there will be a battle tomorrow."
Tristan exhaled heavily, glancing around the camp of their own 7,000 man army. He cupped the side of Austin's neck, his hand resting on it heavily while the other stayed clutching Eric's arm. It was a gesture of personal affection and pride most military leaders didn't give their men, but Tristan always had. "Good work. Go rest in my tent." he nodded towards one of the nicest tents only high ranking officials in the military had, knowing that the temporary sleeping arrangements the men had would offer a far less restful slumber.
The two teenagers nodded, "Thank you, captain." and they walked off.
Tristan inhaled deeply, shaking his head as he continued towards the king's arrangements. He opened the flap and walked right into the tent. Two of the other five captains were present, one of the generals, and then the head general were all sitting on the floor in a circle with the king. The other three captains and one of the secondary generals had stayed back with their men to protect the people in case of an attack.
The king was a young one, only in his early thirties, still strong enough to take the front lines in battle. They stood as the last member of their group came in and he went straight to the king. They clutched each other's forearms in greeting.
"Tristan, what news do you have?"
"The scouting party had eighty men. All but nine of them are dead and the prisoners were brought here to be kept. Two of our men were lost-"
The king interrupted him, "Who?"
"Mark and Jonas." He was silent for a moment, the king knew all of his soldiers personally and felt a deep loss as each one died. But there wasn't time to allow him proper mourning. "Three days ago I sent out two of my men to stalk Gilbren's army. They returned moments ago and told me they have at least ten thousand men. They're a day and a half away and will march in the morning, but if we meet them halfway there will be a battle tomorrow."
The king was silent, at first thinking it over himself, and then turning to look around at his military leaders before looking back to Tristan. "Well, what do you say?"
"I say we march at dawn and meet them head on."
They glanced at each other and one of the other captains, a man in his late thirties named Brogan nodded, "I second it." The third captain in the vicinity nodded as well.
The king nodded, looking towards the general and head general, "Men?"
The secondary general shook his head, "Why invite this fight? Why not wait to see if it can be settled with less bloodshed?"
Tristan shook his head, "The men of Gilbren are animals. They won't be compromised with. We have to fight."
They all looked to Anthony, the head general, but he was staring right at the younger captain, "I trust Tristan's decisions. If he says it will be best to march, I say we march."
The king nodded, "It's settled then. Alert the men. We march at dawn."
CASTLE DRADEN
Rory breathed evenly and slowly. In. Out. In. Out. She stepped gingerly around the ten foot wooden blocks that served as obstacles for the training grounds. She heard something around the block behind her and became still. She waited a moment and turned, darting behind the block as she raised the dull practice sword. The sound of metal screeching against metal ran through her brain as her own weapon met that of her opponent. She slid her sword from his and held it in a defensive position, moving slowly and never taking her eyes off of him.
He nodded at her stepping. "Very good. Step with your right. Left. Right. Left. Slow, even paces." she ignored him. She was aware of how to move while fighting and he knew that. He was just trying to distract her. She was proven right as, halfway through his oral observation of her technique, he lunged for her torso. She deflected it and kicked him in she stomach, forcing him back. He came at her again and the impact of the blades hitting forced hers out of her hands. She jumped back as he swiped at her side and looked around wildly for something to use as a weapon. She backed up quickly as he dove and swiped at her. Every time she jumped just far enough out of range, and they both knew it wasn't because he was going easy on her.
Her back hit one of the wooden blocks and she fell to the ground as he took a swipe at her shoulder. On the ground, her right foot moved swiftly to knock his feet from under him while her left foot shot to his knees, helping to carry out her work of knocking him over. She kicked his sword from him and rolled over, pushing herself up quickly. They were standing only a yard from each other, both crouched and moving circularly.
There were weapons stashed all over the course, and when she stalked close to a twelve foot block her foot pushed a thick, three foot wooden stick several inches away. She was crouched low enough that she could grab it easily. Her opponent saw that her concentration was split and took the opportunity to knock her off her feet. On her back, she was immediately aware that he was going for the stick, and was leaning over, partly above her. The heel of her right foot connected with his wrist and then the top of her foot made stinging contact with the side of his face in one fluid movement.
He's had a grip on the weapon, but lost it and she pulled it from the ground. By the time she got up, he'd made his way to the other side of the block and was out of sight. She froze, biting her lip. It was silent. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her hair had been pulled back into a tight bun when they started, but it was now loose and at the base of her neck. She twirled the stick in her hand and walked cautiously around to the other side of the block. He was gone.
Rory moved slowly through the maze and finally caught a glimpse of him moving quickly through two blocks. She stalked quickly towards him and he turned, their weapons hitting with an impact so strong it knocked them both down and splintered wood littered the floor at their feet. He had another stick and they were both broken now. But that didn't seem to matter because they continued fighting with the ruined weapons. He ran at her, his stick making contact with her arm and the splintered wood tore it open, but she didn't have time to react to the pain, only to retaliate by swinging her own fragmented weapon at his head. It made contact and he fell back, but was immediately back up and she saw blood begin to streak down the side of his face.
His arm cocked back, and she saw it swinging forward. She barely had time to up her own weapon up to protect her face. The impact of the hit forced her to drop her stick. She fell to the ground and he had the stick at her forehead, signifying that if this were a real fight she'd be dead from a hit to the head.
Rory sighed, her body relaxing, "Yield."
General Medina grinned, holding his hand out for her to take. "Incredible, Rory. Very impressive. Honestly. Ladies in the court never learn hand to hand combat, and the ones who do never get nearly as good as you are."
She sighed, taking his hand, "Thank you."
He pulled her up, "Be sure you stretch so you aren't cramped up tomorrow." he touched the gash on her arm, "Sorry about that."
She touched the cut across his temple, "Sorry about that."
He laughed, "You're good. Not many seventeen year old girls can make a general in the army bleed." he glanced up at the sun, "Don't you have a lesson soon?"
"Oh. Yes, I do. I almost forgot." she smiled, "Thank you general."
He nodded, "It's an honor."
And Rory took off, running out of the training area for the soldiers, through the city, and up to the castle. She made it to her room to see Louise, Paris, and Madeline milling around. They looked up when she came in. Louise pursed her lips, "About time, little warrior."
Rory smiled, pulling her hair down and running a comb through it, "I'm not late for our writing lesson, am I?"
"Not yet." Paris said from her place on the window seat, "But you have two minutes to become presentable."
She grinned, "No problem." Rory pulled off the old trousers and shirt she'd stolen from her father because they didn't fit him anymore, and dipped her hands in the water basin on her dresser. She cupped some in her hands and rubbed it on her face before running a towel over her face to clean it. She slipped into one of her casual dresses and tied her hair back into a ribbon. "Done."
Paris nodded, "A minute and forty eight seconds. Very impressive."
Madeline shook her head, "You are amazing, Rory."
She rolled her eyes, "Can we go now?"
"Yes." Louise stood from her place on the bed.
"Really Rory, how do you do that?" Madeline asked, following her out.
"I'm magic."
"I mean seriously, I hate you so much for being a natural beauty."
"Thanks. I love you too."
ONE WEEK LATER
Rory was in one of the stables with a servant girl named Kate, looking at the horses and helping her feed them. Her own horses, one solid black Arabian and one solid white Barb, were named Artemis and Apollo after the twin Roman gods. She walked to Artemis, the Arabian, appropriately named because she was a female and Apollo was a male, and ran her fingers gingerly down the horse's snout.
Kate walked over to her, "Milady?"
Rory looked over at her to see her holding out an apple for the horse. She smiled and took it, "Thank you." she held it out for Artemis, who took it and ate it quickly. Rory grinned, rubbing her hand down the horse's neck. The animal turned it's snout and pushed at Rory's arm so that her hand came close to it's mouth. It licked her hand and she laughed, "Sorry, sweetie. I only had one." The horse neighed and Rory laughed.
Kate was next to her again, watching her, "Your horses are beautiful, Milady."
She smiled, "Thank you. Do you like riding?"
She shook her head, "Oh, I've never ridden a horse before."
Rory's eyes widened, "You mean you take care of them everyday but have never ridden one?" The girl shrugged and Rory asked her, "Would you like to?"
Her eyes widened, "What?"
"Do you want to try riding one? I'd be more than happy to take you riding." she shook her head,
"But of course I'd never ask you to try side saddle. It's the most sexist thing I've ever been subject to in my life. You can also ride either one you want and I'll ride the other, but you'll probably want to ride Artemis because Apollo is feisty. I think it's just his breed, though, because I've heard that Barbs are all like that-" she was cut off when one of the servant boys stuck his head through the window.
"Kate!" she looked over and the boy grinned, "The soldiers are back." he pulled his head from the window and Kate looked at Rory, who smiled and ran from the stable. They made their way through the crowd to see the soldiers walking down the road towards the castle. Numerous men were being stopped by family and friends, pulled into the crowd and waiting arms. Her gaze stayed on the men at the front. By the time they got to the castle, only the king, generals,
captains, and nobles would be left.
She bid farewell to Kate and made her way through the crowd and then back past the stables, following a trail only the people from the castle knew, and was soon in her room changing so that she was presentable. It only took fifteen minutes for her to become flawless, and she walked slowly down the stairs. By the time she got into the main entrance to the castle, all the men were inside. She noticed that she was the last lady to come down. Her mother, her friends, and all of their mothers were already downstairs and greeting the returning soldiers. She walked up to them confidently and smiled. She took the king's hand, curtsied, and kissed his cheek, "Father."
He kissed her forehead affectionately, "Rory."
She walked over to Anthony, the head general and practically her uncle. She took his hand as well and curtsied, "General."
He put his hand over hers affectionately, "How are your lessons going?"
General Medina, who had come down to welcome them back from the battle, answered that question for him. "Amazingly. As I'm sure you expected." Anthony looked over at him and he turned his head so his superior could see the healing cut on the side of his head.
Anthony laughed, patting Rory's shoulder, "Good girl."
She then went to Brogan and curtsied, "Captain."
He nodded, "Princess."
Finally, she came to her friends. Finn, Logan, and Colin. It would have been terribly improper to hug them, so she refrained and simply took each of their hands in hers one by one and curtsied. She didn't have to tell them that she was terrified for each of them when they went off to fight. They knew she was. And each time they came home whole she could breathe.
She came then to Aiden, Jess, and Tristan. They were strange to her, because they weren't nobles, but they blended in so easily. At least, Tristan did. No one would ever look at the group of teenagers and think that any of then were something other than royalty or noble. Their families were wealthy and respected, but not nobles. That was why she couldn't for the life of her figure out how Tristan had made it through the ranks so fast. He was the only reason Jess or Aiden had gotten this far so quickly. He'd brought his cousin and closest friend to the top with him.
She smiled at Jess and Aiden and curtsied after taking both of their hands. Then it was down to Tristan. She tried to avoid looking into his eyes, but couldn't. She curtsied and then held his hand in hers gingerly, "Captain."
He nodded politely, never breaking his gaze from hers, "Milady." She held his eyes for another moment before breaking away.
"A banquet, I think." everyone glanced over at the king and he looked around at each of them, "Next week. In celebration of our victory."
Tristan glanced down at the girl in front of him. "I should be going. I'll see you at the banquet,
then?"
She looked at him, locking their gazes once more, "You will."
He bowed shallowly, "Princess." She nodded as an adieu as he turned and exited the castle.
THAT NIGHT
Rory pulled on a dark brown cotton dress that she could move easily in. She glanced in her mirror and sighed, running her hands through her hair. She saw her lady-in-waiting by the door, watching her. "Rory, I really don't think this is a good idea."
"Why?"
"Because. Sneaking out in the middle of the night...you could get hurt."
She smiled, walking over to her long-time friend, "Laney, I'll be fine."
"It's just, what if something were to happen to you? I'd have to tell your father what was going on."
"No. You can never tell anyone about this Lane. You've been sworn to secrecy. If you weren't my personal lady you wouldn't even know this much."
"But-"
Rory cut her off, "Lane, I love you like a sister, but not even Paris knows about this. You must believe me that if you ever tell anyone about this I can never forgive you."
Lane sighed, shaking her head, "I know."
Rory smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "I have to go."
Lane sighed, squeezing her hand, "Be safe."
"I will." and with that, Rory opened her bedroom door and stole silently down the hall and out of the castle.
Ten minutes later she was walking down the empty streets of the town. She was in the wealthier section, and the house she was looking for was only a little ways away. She ran a hand through her light brown, board-straight hair and crept silently down the walk. You couldn't see into a house from the one next to it because of how thick the trees between each lot were, so she was shielded from view.
The princess found herself on the step of a familiar door. She knocked lightly and then let her hand drop. It took a moment, but there were sounds of footsteps from the center of the large house. The servants lay asleep in their quarters at the back of the house. A lock turned and the door opened.
Tristan looked down at her, seemingly surprised at first. She smiled at him and he pulled her into the house, closing the door quickly as grabbed her hips and his mouth descended onto hers. He hoisted her up so that her back was against the wall next to the door and her legs were wrapped around his waist. Her hands clenched around his unruly hair, pulling him deeper into her.
Rory moved her hands from his hair to slide down his chest and she pushed him away slightly so that her legs dropped and her feet hit the floor. His right hand moved up to cup her face, his thumb running over her jawbone lightly as he pulled her bottom lip between his gently. He felt her smile against his lips and slide her hands down until they tucked into the waist of his pants and she was able to pull him flush against her. The kiss broke slowly and Rory kept her eyes closed, biting her lip as she rested her forehead against his. Tristan watched her swallow hard, breathing deeply and rhythmically.
He slid his thumb over her jawbone still and she opened her eyes, "Hi." she said quietly.
He smiled at her, "Hey."
Without breaking bodily or eye contact, she backed into another room on the bottom floor of his house, having memorized her way around it months ago, and sat on a large couch, pulling him down with her. She straddled his lap so that she was facing him and leaned down, kissing him slowly. He clutched her dress at her waist and pulled her closer, breaking contact for a moment, "I have to warn you." he kissed her deeply, "If we don't stop meeting like this, your virginity is in grave and immediate danger."
She opened her eyes and smiled at him, laughing lightly. "Not enough initiative to make me want to stop."
He kissed her again, looking between her eyes and lips, "Good." She smiled wider, shaking her head as she leaned down and once more took his lips in hers.
Fifteen minutes later they were sitting on the couch, Rory's legs pulled to her chest and her side against the back of it as she watch Tristan. "How many did we lose?"
"Two thousand."
She inhaled deeply, "What about Gilbren?"
"Almost eight thousand. They retreated when three fifths of their men were dead."
She slid closer to him, running her hand up and down his arm lightly, "How did we lose so many fewer than them?"
Tristan shook his head, "More disciplined, I guess. They're animals."
Rory rested her head on his shoulder, "I'm sick of all this fighting. It's been going on for years."
He kissed her neck gently, "So am I."
She sighed, "I'd do anything to stop it."
Tristan laced his fingers through hers, "Maybe someday you will. You'll be queen. If it's not done with by then you can do whatever you have to."
She looked at him, her chin resting on his shoulder. This was the hard part. Whenever one of them would mention the future, it got painful because their own future was so uncertain. Usually they quickly changed the subject, and this time was so exception.
He looked down at her and saw the cut on her arm from the training last week. He ran his finger over the healing cut, "This is new."
She looked down at it and nodded, "Medina."
Tristan laughed, "Was that before or after you gave him the one on the side of his face?"
She smiled, running her fingers over his stomach lightly, under his shirt, "After." Her hand stopped as it came to rest on the cut from the runner. She pushed up his shirt and looked at it. Her eyes widened, "What happened?"
"It's nothing."
"Tristan."
"It looks worse than it feels."
"Tristan!"
He sighed and told her about the scouting party and the runners. She bit her lip, one eyebrow cocking. He shook his head, "It wasn't a big deal. It was a lucky angle."
Rory slid her fingers over it lightly. She watched her hand, and Tristan watched her face to see her reaction. She looked up at him and moved closer, "Does it hurt?" He stared into her eyes, shaking his head slowly. She nodded in understanding and bit her lip, leaning down to kiss him slowly. She touched his face gingerly with her fingertips, "Tristan." she whispered.
He kissed her again, "Hmm?"
"What are we going to do?"
He'd been leaning in to kiss her, but stopped. He looked up at her for a moment, exhaling heavily. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her down to sit in his lap. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked up into her eyes, "I don't know." he whispered, shaking his head. She looked at him, her eyelids heavy and he just shook his head, biting his bottom lip. She was royalty and he wasn't even a noble. It could never work, but every time he thought of what his life would be without her, he felt his stomach knot. And so he just shook his head. He couldn't not have her. "I don't know."