Maud tied her hair before she wrapped it in the coif browned with stains from all those she had helped before. Faceless memories of men and women whose voices were indistinguishable, their screams, some begging for mercy even as she was granting it through the pain she inflicted to see their smiles a day later, rushed through her as she tucked it behind her ears.
She didn’t look in the small hand mirror on her boudoir to see if it was straight for longer than a single, fleeting glance. Instead, she was hovering over the hardcovered book beside it that she had never opened, her head in a dizzying spin between anticipation of hearing those pleas again, hearing those screams, seeing those faceless victims of another slaughter at the hands of murderers disguised by the shield of a sovereign’s banner, and Adrian’s cold gaze. His handsomeness, the way his hazel eyes were sometimes a slightly different color each time she saw him, the way his smile was able to send vibrations through her heart, how his voice was something she wanted to hear even if it was to tell her how much he hated her. The mere acknowledgment that he knew she was alive.
“I thought you were a queen,” Theresa looked up to her with her doll resting on the stretched fabric of her skirt over her crossed legs. “You look like a nurse.”
“I’m a Princess now that the King is awake,” Maud smiled over her shoulder at the little girl. “But I’m also an Infirmarian’s Assistant, too.”
Theresa blinked at her, tilting her head curiously. “You can be that, too?”
Maud chuckled, “Why not? We’re princesses, we can be anything we want. I’m a hunter, too, you know.” She stood to grab her apron and check that the friar was ready to keep a watchful eye over her and the other children while she was gone.
He gave her a nodding grin from the leather bound bible spilling over his hands. He was in the chair that Radhya had been sitting in before. He peered toward Paul, who was sleeping on the mattress, and then to Esme and Leo, who had fallen asleep on Maud’s bed, and nodded warmly one more time.
“What else are you?” Theresa set her doll to the side.
“I don’t know,” Maud shrugged as she gathered her apron and made her way to the door. “I was once a farmer, I can stitch like a seamstress, I cook, garden…you know the flag of Alcalia?”
Theresa shrugged only one of her shoulders at it.
Maud rolled her eyes with a mirror of that little shrug, “I made the first one myself from one of the King’s shirts. Anything you want to be, Princess Theresa Taggerty, you can be. A General, like your sister, a Knight like your brother, Infirmarian’s Assistant like me…anything. I’m sure you could even be a friar, if you wanted.”
“Well, that’s not necessarily something I would encourage, your Majesty,” the friar gave her a cautious grin. “Not for a Princess, anyway. But, yes, she could be that, too, if she so desired.”
“Anything?” Theresa looked deep in thought.
“Anything,” Maud repeated before taking in a breath with one final glance at the book she left sitting on her boudoir. “Be good for the friar for me and make sure Pauly eats all his supper, veggies too.” She wagged a finger at the little princess, “That goes for the both of you.”
“When will you be back?” Theresa started to get on her feet.
Maud hesitated. Faceless, indecipherable voices. “I don’t know,” she grinned warmly, “But it’ll be the soonest I can. I promise you that.”
The door’s latch behind her, the boot-snaps of the Paladins guarding either side of it in salute, set her into nearly a sprint down the rounding corridor. Door after door, lamp after lamp lighting it in halos that shifted shadows within shadows within light, rushed past her as her feet carried her toward the bailey. She lifted her dress to allow her knees to rise, to allow her feet to stretch her stride. She had to get there in time. She had to see them before they left. She had to see him. She must.
Her heart raced as she burst out into a rush of cold air wafting with burning cedar and metal chimes. The clouded sky had dimmed into the latter half of the afternoon over the gathered mass of armored knights and Clerics below, the sun’s light unable to reach the steel plates of the Paladins who were riding from across the draw bridge and through to the pontoon bridge where the ferry would normally be, scattered between even more mounted knights and Clerics. She searched their armors and colors for Draka, for Aurie…for Adrian.
“Maud’s here,” Aurie said to Draka, down by the well. She waved and shouted for Maud’s attention.
Maud staggered a step at the sight of her mother in that thick armor, with her helmet resting beside Draka’s on the well’s stone wall. She was helping Draka with an itch on his back by using a stick she was slipping up and down into his bevor and down the inside of the backplate. He was arching and nodding or shaking his head as she moved it. At one point, he jerked and shot her a glare.
“You’re going, too, I’m guessing?” Maud was catching her breath but it didn’t hide the irritation when she reached them.
“Well, it’s the best I could do, you big baby,” Aurie pulled the stick from Draka’s bevor before answering Maud with a firm, “Yes.”
Maud went to hug Draka first, then her mother, making sure to kiss both their cheeks. “If there’s anyone I can trust to keep him from doing anything stupid, it would be you.”
“See,” Aurie slapped his breastplate with the back of her bare hand, beaming up at his tongue-in-cheek grin, “She understands.”
Draka rolled his eyes.
As the mounted knights rode past them, Maud found her eyes wandering over how neither of them had their horses before the reminder made her shoulders sink. The way Draka kept his back to them made her wonder if he was feeling the same. His ears were perked, of that she was sure.
Where is Adrian? Her eyes were drifting between them and the faces, crests, or helmets of those passing them.
“The stocks are over filled, make sure they’re kept dry. Don’t let them forget to dam the canals into the lake. If it gets drained, we’re out of fish before the end of the week. And keep an eye on the rations. Oh, the buckets and barrels. Ropes will need constant tending, try not to use too much of them, since they’ll need them for the barrels to keep the wood wet against the fire drifts…”
“Ma,” Maud’s eyes drifted back to her worried, wincing face. “I know. You worry about getting back here alive while you’re out there.”
Aurie was glossy eyed as she heaved a breath of warmed relief. “I know you do. I’m just…Oh, Senna get word to you, yet?”
“No, why?”
Draka’s lips thinned the way it does when he’s unsure about the way she will like something. She lifted a brow at who they had intended to relay the message.
“You have a new—I guess—” Aurie and Draka met shrugging glances, “adopted little brother. We’re calling him Jacob. Senna’s caring for him now, but you need to make sure he’s kept safe and has plenty of milk. She has him in the infirmary with a milk-mother now. He’s very young, so will need a lot of attention.”
“A baby?” Maud’s eyes widened. “You must be jesting. There is no way I can care for a baby with what you’re about to dump on me once the battle starts. You do realize what we’re going to be doing here, right? I can’t do what I need to and that at the same time.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“I know it’s a lot,” Aurie winced again, “But he is ours now. So, just make sure that he’s safe and fed, okay?”
“Plowing rivers,” Maud shook her head. She was still searching. Where was he? Why hasn’t she seen him? His soldiers…she began leaning to see around them if she could spot their colors.
“What are you doing? Who are you…oh,” Aurie let out another long breath. “Honey, his men are already across the bridge and getting ready to move,” she pointed toward their old house.
Maud whipped her head toward it. A smile spread when she saw the gathered horses still being saddled by the thickly armored men bearing the colors of Anatolia. It widened even more when she saw Adrian among them, rubbing Pearl’s nose and checking her saddle and armor straps. She filled her lungs and lifted her skirt as she leapt into a sprint.
“Be back!” Maud shouted over her shoulder as she ran, jumping around the corner of the gate and onto the pontoon bridge along side the long lines of horsemen crossing it.
She didn’t care that she made a few of the horses sidestep into others, causing the snapping shouts of their riders. She didn’t care that water poured over the pontoons and filled her shoes. She didn’t care that mud was splashing up her legs and staining her skirt that lifted just high enough for her stride to carry her. She wasn’t letting him get away. She wasn’t letting this chance slip through her fingers.
“Adrian Taggerty!” Maud shouted in a breathy screech as she leapt across the ditch between the road and the untilled field across from the home she had been raised in, where he and his many soldiers were gathered.
He shook his head, refusing to turn away from brushing and checking Pearl.
“Adrian Taggerty! Prince! Adrian! Taggerty!” Maud was jumping muddy mounds and splashing through puddles.
It was just before she was in front of him that he turned her way and she didn’t hesitate. She didn’t let him have a second to blink those wide eyes before she slammed into him and wrapped her arms tightly around him. She pulled him by the back of his head down far enough that her leap landed their lips together. At first, his were firm as stone against her, like his armor plates, but she didn’t pull back. She kept hold on the back of his neck, kept her heels raised—with her toes on his boots to make sure of it—until his arms finally wrapped around her and those lips softened against hers.
She pulled back just enough to take a breath, “No.”
She opened her eyes with her nose pressed beside his so that she could look deep into his eyes as he blinked at her.
It was barely louder than a whisper because her heart and her breath were still trying to keep up with each other, “I’m not giving you back that book and now, you have no choice. You’re mine. I would never harm your family. I was angry and scared because I almost lost you before I could have you when they didn’t help, when I was the only one. Because you’re mine, Adrian. You’re my Pauper Knight.”
His brows crinkled, “I’m not a paup…”
She kissed him before he could finish. This time, he lifted her toes from the ground, his hands moving over her back, and she nearly folding into him if not for his armor keeping him from her. She tasted his tongue, she felt his warmth, she felt the dizziness of her heart losing its rhythm.
“I’m still mad at you,” Adrian was as out of breath as she was between their kisses.
“You better live,” Maud’s hands were moving over his face, her fingers laced through his hair, her nose and mouth filled with his breath. She wanted to wrap him with her legs but let them keep straight as he lowered her feet back to the ground. “You better come back and court me. This time without your mother’s tricks.” She flicked his nose, “You should have told me we were courting from the start.”
He grinned down at her with a twinkle in his eyes, “I was going to when we were dancing, but you decided to be as daft as your mother. And,” he winked, “those weren’t my mother’s tricks.”
“Certainly not Draka’s,” Maud couldn’t stop from smiling. She didn’t care how red her cheeks must be with all the heat in them. With how tight they felt on her face, they were nearly numb.
“Oh, no,” Adrian took Pearl’s reins and lifted himself onto the saddle. All around him, his soldiers were mounting their horses. “It was my father’s.”
Maud took a step back, rolling her eyes, “Of course it was.”
He turned Pearl and leaned from the saddle to kiss her again with a hand under her chin to lift her head. “No matter what God’s Will is today, Princess,” the seriousness in his eyes made Maud’s heart ache and a chill climbed her spine, “Don’t let them change you. Don’t let yourself mourn me like Draka mourned his wife. Find happiness and never stop being who you are. Promise me.”
“Don’t say things like that,” Maud trembled with a reach for one more kiss. “You’re going to come back to me. And when you do, I’m going to give you that dance. I promise. I’ll only dance with you, the entire night.”
His smile was dripping with sad wonder as he finally straightened to put on his helmet and buckle the chin strap. “Promise me that you’ll move on. You have a light within you. Don’t let these bastards take it from you. Don’t let them win. Promise.”
“I promise,” Maud’s voice felt distant as she watched him notch the face shield in place with a nod and spur Pearl toward the front of his men. To herself, as tears poured to drip from her chin, “I promise that I’ll wait and never forget you.”
And, beneath the halo of the sun shining with orange and yellow brilliance over them, she watched Adrian lead his armored horsemen to join the hundreds more who were moving up and over the hill that once had been her daily trip to visit Draka. The hill that had once been her journey to safety, where the silhouette of the house that now looked more like a makeshift fortress, surrounded by the prickly figures mustering to the commands of their leaders, she watched him until he became nothing but another indecipherable member of their horde.
As the horsemen faded to marching lines of men with round rimmed helmets and tall pikes resting on their shoulders, Maud slowly made her way back to the pontoon bridge into the castle whose wooden walls were covered by a wall of stacked sandbags. She wiped at the tears and struggled to suck air through the running of her nose. She didn’t look up from their passing boots. She rubbed at her eyes. She crossed her arms against the cold breeze. She watched as her toes appeared and disappeared beneath the muddy hem of her dress with each step.
Cheers erupted from the marching soldiers and Maud finally lifted her eyes to see the oxen pulled wagon filled with Paladins among them. Draka was standing at the head of it in all the brilliance of his new armor, one leg bent to the brace himself. The red flag, that very flag Maud had embroidered for him before he left for Strasbourg, fluttered around him.
Beside him, Aurie had her helmet in her hands in front of her, a worried smile as she met Maud’s eyes one last time. Maud felt the trembling return with a vengeance as she silently prayed for it not to be.
She still needed her mother. She still needed her Draka. She was finally certain who she wanted for a husband. And all three were in God’s hands, now, on their way to a battle they knew they were going to lose. A battle that was only for one purpose: so that all the boys she once thought of as immature, as idiots, the little annoying children she had to babysit and look after, could have a chance. A chance to survive. Her mother, Draka, Adrian, the young men of Talkro, were the bravest people she would ever know. As she walked back into the bailey, as the last of the wagons filled with iron tubes and stacks of what she knew would be assembled into catapults and ballistae that looked like giant crossbows, Maud straightened her back and lifted her chin.
For them, she would be brave, too. For them, she will be fighting in the only way she knew how. For them, she would not rest until it was over. She would not let herself tire. She won’t stop, won’t give up, won’t let them win. This was her home. These were her people. And they were her family.
“Get the carts and wagons ready!” Maud called to the village men within the bailey.
She turned to the doorway to the infirmary and the Anatolian physicians who eyed her from inside. One in particular, a slender dark-skinned man who stood from looking at Nina’s wound, gave Maud an expectant look.
“You’re the Infirmarian?” Maud went to him.
“Surgeon, yes,” the man had Senna hand him scissors to cut the excess from fresh stitches on Nina’s side. “You must be Princess Maudeline Luminis.”
“I am,” she said softer than before, but her voice was still filled with the firmness of not wanting to engage in small talk. “I’m trained as a Surgeon’s Assistant. They’re readying the casualty carries now. I’ll be overseeing the siege preparations as Regent, but my priority will be assisting you as you see fit.”
“I have no need of an assistant.”
Maud bit her lip.
He straightened and wiped his hands with a towel after handing Senna back the scissors. “I need another surgeon. Your work on her was extensive and quite good. I’ll oversee your work, but otherwise, I see no reason to waste your skill on stitches and washing.”
Maud was taken aback. She felt a grin forming.
He regarded her for a moment, “Think you can do that?”
She beamed, “If it is God’s Will.”
“Trust me,” he flicked his brows as he set the towel on a table rack, “It will be.”
