4. The Playboy
"All right, Hugo. Just like we talked about."
The mabari barked softly in response to Percival's whisper. Kneeling as the noble was, he was at his hound's eye level.
"Remember… adorable eyes," he whispered conspiringly. "You're a cute little puppy. No digging in the flowerbed or getting too sloppy with the kisses, all right?"
Hugo quirked his head to one side with a soft whine.
"Well, yes. You can give some kisses… but no sloppy ones. That's my job, and you know it."
The mabari barked once again, and, at Percival's pat, bounded out of the bushes and across the courtyard.
Percival remained hidden, crouched in the bushes on one side of the Cousland estate's courtyard. The position kept him from prying eyes (although, admittedly, not particularly well, since his sandy blond hair, swept dashingly back into a tail of course, did tend to catch the sunlight) while still affording him a view of the entire yard. It was a vital position for observing his current prey.
She was a pretty blond thing: the daughter of one of the knights his father had summoned for the march south. She would be worried about her father's upcoming battles, and afraid of the unfamiliar environment. It was a challenge that was, in all honestly, beneath his skills… but that bust and those eyes simply made her impossible to turn down, unsportsmanlike though it may be.
She startled as the mabari came bounding up to her, nearly dropping her needlework, and Percy wondered if he shouldn't have told Hugo to approach calmly. Ah well, too late to call him back now.
"Nice dog…" she said uncertainly, leaning away from him in obvious fear. Percy snorted to himself, as ever surprised that anyone could find Hugo intimidating. Then again, he was the imprinted master, so he supposed the mabari gave him special treatment.
Hugo played his part well enough. He sat on the grass outside of threatening range, cocking his head and whining softly in a plea to be petted. Percy couldn't tell from his vantage point, but he was certain the mabari was giving the girl the full force of his puppy-dog eyes.
It was a look that Percival Cousland wasn't half bad at pulling off himself.
Tentatively, the girl reached out and patted Hugo's head. Hugo's tail started wagging gleefully at the attention, but he was smart enough not to start barking and rolling around like he probably wanted to. Instead, he sat still, letting the girl become more confident in her attention.
"Well, you're just a sweet doggie, aren't you?" the girl said, smiling as she scratched behind Hugo's ears. Hugo responded with a couple happy licks to the girl's hand. She subtly wiped it on her skirts. "Where's your master, I wonder?"
That was his cue. Percival bounded up to the dog, pretending to be relieved to have found him. "Hugo, there you are! Wandering off again! Bad dog!"
The mabari tilted his head with a confused whine, but it didn't matter because the girl was quick to jump to the dog's defense (Percy liked her more and more). "He wasn't doing anything wrong, sir. Just saying hi, really."
"Well, I'm sorry if he bothered you. I love the dog, but by the Maker is he ever a handful."
"Really, he wasn't any trouble." She smiled. "It's sweet that you care for your dog like that."
"And why wouldn't I? Thank you very much, my lady, for finding him."
Her face went red, but her smile brightened further, her gaze lowering demurely. "Oh, I'm no lady… you may call me Yulie."
"Ah, Yulie. A beautiful name… fit finely to such a beautiful girl."
Her blush turned scarlet, but that was definitely interest sparking in her eyes. An innocent sort of interest, truly, though it was full of curiosity. Percival had no qualms about sating such curiosity. "Well, I thank you, my lord, for your kind words. Might I have your name?"
"Percy. Tell me, Yulie, what brings you to Highever? I don't know that I've seen you before… surely, I would have remembered."
Her hand covered her face, but she didn't protest as he lowered himself onto the bench beside her. "We're staying here while my father marches south with the rest of the teyrn's men. What of you? Do you live here?"
He nodded. "That I do. My father, too, is marching south, as is my elder brother."
Her blue eyes widened fretfully. "A brother, too? You must be so worried for them!" Such pretty, clear blue eyes.
"That I am… frightfully so. I would that I could go with them, but I must stay and look after my mother while they are away."
"That is very sweet of you."
He smiled, and he could practically see the effect his Maker-blessed facial features were having on her. He couldn't deny it: he knew he was handsome—all manly lines, an athletic build, golden hair, and just enough stubble about his chin to hint at roguish charm. It was like the Maker wanted him to be like this, really. "Kind of you to say so. Tell me, do you have someone to look after you while your father is away?"
She shook her head. Shyly, she said, "Perhaps…" her gaze flickered to the longsword Percival always wore strapped across his back. "Oh, I hate to impose…"
"Say no more, my dear Yulie. I will certainly do what I can to protect you." He took her hand and kissed the back, and she practically melted right there on the bench. Percival wondered whether this wasn't going just a bit too quickly to be truly any fun.
"Unhand her, knave!"
Ah, never mind. Enter the obstacle that would make the hunt so much sweeter.
Percival turned to see an older man stalking across the yard toward them. He was dressed in chain, and carrying a worn broadsword in one hand. Yulie jumped from the bench. "Father! It's not… he's not…"
"Yulie, stay out of this." The knight stopped in front of Percy to glare down at him menacingly. "Don't think I didn't see the look in your eyes, boy. My daughter will not be sport for some lowlife rake!"
Percival couldn't help but be amused, because this man certainly didn't know who he was. However, he was content to let it continue as such, if it made things more interesting. He quirked an eyebrow up at the older man. "I can't help but notice, good ser, that you have your sword drawn. Do you intend perhaps to use steel to make your point?"
"I know of no better way. Stand down, or draw your own."
"For a lady as lovely as your daughter, I fear I must meet your challenge, ser." He stood and grinned, his own sword slipping out of its sheath with an exhilarating hiss.
The knight's sword came down at him, and the battle was joined.
The knight was skilled, as was hardly surprising of one of his rank and experience. However, his moves were fairly typical of Highever forces, who were exactly the kinds of fighters Percy had trained with all his life. The man's steady, straightforward swinging held no surprises, much to Percival's disappointment. He parried each blow sent toward him, and was quick to cut in with his own. The other man was obviously thrown off guard by his skill, perhaps not expecting the younger to actually be passing handy with a blade.
It made Percival smile. He may succumb to the vice of Sloth in most areas of his life, but there were two things he was very, very good at. One of those things was swordplay.
Well, the other one was too. After a fashion.
Percival's velvet outfit was soon matted with sweat as he dodged and struck. He'd gotten two touches in quick succession, where the knight only had one. Yulie watched the duel with a fretful expression, biting her lip as her gaze passed between them. Hugo stood beside her, barking happily in encouragement.
The knight swept in, the older man's fatigue making him reckless, and Percival swept his sword aside. Then, the younger man stepped into his reach to place the blade of his sword square at the knight's throat. Defeated, the older man lowered his own blade and stepped back.
Glowering, the knight admitted, "You're a good hand with a sword; I'll give you that."
"It certainly is the only thing he puts any effort into," a voice spoke behind them. "Or rather, one of two things." Percival turned sheepishly to greet his father, who arched an aristocratic eyebrow at him. "Picking fights with my men, are you, Pup?"
"To be fair, Father, he issued the challenge. Not I."
"And I'm certain you gave him no cause, then?" Bryce Cousland cast a meaningful look at Yulie, who was still standing fretfully off to one side. Percival rubbed the back of his neck, grinning, and he could tell his father was being very careful not to be amused by any of this.
The knight, for his part, looked horrified. He stared wide-eyed at Percival, obviously realizing that he'd called the son of Teyrn Bryce Cousland of Highever a "lowlife rake." Then, the man threw himself to his knee in front of Percival. "My… my apologies, my young lord. I had no idea."
"Obviously not," Percival laughed.
"It's fine, Ser Gerald," Father spoke up, gesturing for the man to stand. "This is my younger son, Percival. Pup, this is Ser Gerald. A man I would prefer fighting at my side with his whole mind at Ostagar, not worrying that his daughter's virtue may be prey to your charms back here." The admonition was firm enough, though certainly nothing like what Mother or Nan could have doled out.
All the same, Percival sighed. "I apologize, Father. And to you, Ser Gerald. But, your daughter is truly lovely…" He gazed at her fondly, and she blushed and gave him a little smile. "I simply couldn't help myself."
"Really, Pup. If you only put as much effort into disciplining yourself as you did into your swordwork…"
Percy shrugged, unapologetic. "Discipline has never been one of my virtues."
"Of that, Nan has taken pains to inform me." There, Bryce cracked the barest of smiles. "Now, off with you before you make this situation any worse. I have other matters to discuss with Ser Gerald, here."
Percival bowed and turned to leave, but he could feel Yulie's blue-eyed gaze following him. She looked… enchanted. Ensnared by the roguish noble's son who thought to give her attention.
Subtly, he turned and winked at her, a promise of things to come. And thus he left the courtyard on a high note, Hugo trailing gaily at his heels.