The Shining Wyrm

5.4

Jewel was not amused.

She had completely forgotten about Smithson.

Smithson who might technically be considered her squire and thus a required part of any entourage or mustering that involved her.

That technically meant he would be attending her on their journey at all times.

But she knew for a fact he had quite a lot of important duties to do for the Stablemaster and she barely even knew the boy.

In the four years since she had been fitted her first harness and the five more extensions and two outright replacements after they had maybe spoken a few hundred words.

Not even a dozen if you discounted “Yes, No, Alright, Too Tight, Too Loose, Lady, Squire, Boy”.

If it was not for their brief interactions every few days getting her kitted up for exercise and then putting the harness away she would not even know his name!

Really, considering him her squire was a gross exaggeration Jewel suspected Father had only done so that he could claim some extra coin off their tithes to the Countess.

It’s not like she had any arms for him to keep well-maintained, or tasks required for him to attend her. He was barely more than a groom. And since she was a Lady, and thus fed, washed and cared for herself, and had no need for armor, and was not even able to train him as an apprentice knight, the entirety of his role consisted of buckling and unbuckling a few spots in her kit that were more fiddly to reach without using her mouth!

Jewel was pretty sure that he was going to hate her for being forced to accompany all of them on this trip for at least twelve days away from his duties, home and family.

He did have a family didn't he?

She huffed heavily, she didn't even know him well enough to be sure of what his lineage even was!

Jewel had assumed he was probably some peasant boy, maybe a serf’s child or perhaps a freeman’s kinder.

But she didn't actually know!

They never talked except for right before or after she was exercising or when she tried to help him to make up for all the interruptions in his work.

And even then the words for so sparse and stiltedly consistent they were practically burned into her memory.

“Yes, Lady Jewel.”

“No, Lady Jewel.”

“Thank you, Lady Jewel.”

And every once in a while the rare “Of course Lady Jewel.”

It was so frustrating!

She had less stilted conversations with the complete strangers and children that mobbed her in the Boar Festival!

Smithson obviously did not like her and was going to hate her for forcing him into this venture over a technicality of his duty to her.

And apparently he had been quietly and dutifully preparing to go with her the last seven days and no one had even mentioned it until now!

Jewel had been about to say goodbye to him when he walked over to what she had assumed was a still unladen pack horse and swung himself up into the saddle!

There was not much fanfare, Alexander and Mother were there to see them off, along with the remaining twenty seven footmen (two had sprains which had seen them excused from traveling) that were to guard the demesne in Father’s absence.

Not that they had any threats on their borders to be concerned about.

But the farewells were informal and short and then they were riding at an amiable trot out of the courtyard and down the southern road before Jewel was fully done being flustered over not having realized she would have an attendant squire to look after for the journey there and back!

At least her packs were light enough she didn't have to strain her Wyrmfire any to simply amble along in properly graceful bounds.

Keeping a bit behind Bromthil and the two footmen taking lead ahead of him to scout for banditry or blockage along the road.

Not that anyone expected anything like that for the first day of riding.

They were not even going to be leaving the barony until tomorrow morning.

And Father had put an end to the rare sign of banditry as soon as it was reported last Hungry Summer.

The footmen and horse were soon sweating in the early sun, and their smell only grew stronger as the morning turned towards noon. Talk was quiet and mostly murmured between those that were immediately next to each other to avoid needing to raise voices over the general rattle of kit and baggage.

They were reaching the end of the most distant fields considered directly under the Manor’s bounds and traversing onto the worn dirt path into the surrounding woods.

The golden and orange canopy closing overhead brought a few sighs of relief under the breath among the men and even a few pleased knickers from the horse in the entourage. Although naturally Zephyrvam, Father, Jewel and Bromthil were not moved by the relief of shade.

Jewel herself honestly barely noticed the heat or the cold, she’d used to like to play with the glowing coals of the hearth when she was small enough to fit. But that was before realizing what a panic it brought Mother, Muriel and even Father to when they found her.

And equally even in the chillest winters she had enjoyed playing in the snow until she’d been reprimanded for keeping her brother out so long he took ill.

In comparison, the difference between sunlight and shade in the warmer half of Threshing Turn barely was worth mentioning.

Still the smell of horse and man exerting themselves gave a nice feel to the march that undercut the smell of thunder and petrichor that wafted from Jewel’s own efforts.

At noon they halted alongside the road to water the horses and let them graze as well as for everyone else in the party to take a portion of their traveling rations.

Before she could even turn to get some of the hard smoked nibbles of meat from her pack Smithson was already hopping off his own horse and rushing to her side to unfasten one of the satchels for her.

“Let me get that for you Lady Jewel.”

Which of course meant she could not actually do anything but acknowledge his service and nod.

“Thank you...” — ugh, she was going to have to get in the habit if they were to make proper impressions to the countess — “Squire Smithson”

Which caused him to start a bit at the word, before he straightened himself out and got the leather-wrapped bundle of Jewel’s rations free and unrolling it for her and holding it out.

“Your rations, Lady Jewel.”

She briefly shifted to grasp it with a foreclaw, but then realized what she was doing.

She had already been marching along the dirt road for half a day on those claws.

Yes, she tried to avoid settling too heavily on anything with her Wyrmfire assisted bounds. But there was no convenient brook and Tsulogothulan was moping about not even the horse finding their waters fit to drink so had refused to actually summon a spring. Or maybe it was just a poor place for their particular manner of magic? Jewel didn't know but she liked to think that the Wizard was just moping.

She couldn't very well touch her food with the same claws that had trod through the dirt without washing up.

That would have been improper.

But then that left only one option and it was almost as bad!

And her Squire Smithson had not yet gotten a chance to eat or drink his own ration for the day and instead was standing there waiting with an unfurled roll of leather offering the dried sticks of smoked meat up to her like a platter.

Jewel blinked in what she felt was almost as audibly a manner as Tsulogothulan.

Then as elegantly and poised as she could possibly manage, daintily nibbled up her noon-meal.

Smithson for his part did not even hint that this was anything but natural to be feeding a Lady like one of his more equine charges.

If it had not been for the leather wrap between his fingers and her lips, Jewel was not sure she would have been able to keep her wings folded at her side and even so the sheer embarrassment of the whole situation threatened to spring them loose to either side of her.

She got it all down as soon as she could without breaking propriety and drew her head back with all the poise she absolutely did not feel having had to subject the both of them to such action.

At least no one was making any comment about it or turning their gaze her way.

Too busy getting their own ration and drink down.

Jewel silently thanked all of them and especially her Squire for so consideringly ignoring the situation.

In fact, she was going to do more than silently thank him.

Squires after all were supposed to be extensions of their Knight’s honor and status.

“Squire Smithson, grab your noon-meal ration and attend with me for a cup of small beer.”

The way he started again then nodded sharply spoke to him at least not hating her for the awkwardness of this whole situation too much.

“O-ofcourse, Lady Jewel, would be an honor!”

Before she could even tell him to come along he had rolled up the half eaten bundle of smoked jerky, tied it and stowed it back in the pannier at her side then ran off to get what smelled like hard rind traveling rolls.

He was back at her side with an alacrity that was genuinely impressive. Both a cup for her and a much larger mug that...

Oh, no Jewel drew the line there.

She walked the two of them in silence over to the pack horses where Bromthil and Fatherwere already getting into the water skins and beer rundlets.

Jewel strode up to the uncorked rundlet, pointedly taking the travel stein from Smithson in a foreclaw before he got any ideas about feeding her drink by hand like she was some kind of invalid or worse, the object of a fool headed attempt at courting!

Then she cleared her throat gently and held it out to the footman who had been assigned pouring duty for the higher-stationed members of their party.

“A small beer for me and my squire please.”

Drat! that apparently was upsetting smithson for some reason, judging by the way his ears were turning red.

But he was quite skilled at schooling his face to not show whatever kind of insult or fury Jewel had inspired in her appointed servant as his much wooden traveling bowl was given a splash of beer from the rundlet and then filled the rest of the way with water from one of the skins.

Jewel took a deep sip of her own, noting they had favored her with a bit more beer to water then her Squire but finding that acceptable.

She held her cups better than anyone in the manor after all.

Not indefatigably so, but enough that it would take substantially more ale then they had packed to incapacitate Jewel.

It was probably just a factor of size honestly.

Smithson was watching her swallow with wide eyes.

She glanced down at him and then pointedly at his untouched cup and raised a brow.

The dawning realization of his near insult flooded the boy’s face and he quickly swallowed down his watered down ale so fast and hard he started choking.

Much too the good natured laughter of the footmen and a wincing from Jewel.

Oh bother!

Now he was going to think she had set him up somehow!

She finished off her mug and lowered her head to assure him she meant no such thing.

“Easy, Squire Smithson, the beer isn't going anywhere.”

She tried to offer him a comforting smile but managed to somehow mess it up again.

His ears and face were turning an even brighter flush of red.

“I-It’s, I’m sorry Lady Jewel, it won’t happen again, I was just thirsty is all.”

Oh! He was mad she made him wait to drink! But at least his tone said he was not harboring a grudge!

Well, that was easy enough!

She nodded hard and turned back to the pourer/footman.

“Another for my very thirsty squire!”

Which was definitely the right choice as everyone laughed a lot more good naturedly and Smithson was so grateful he was rendered speechless.

Maybe Jewel could salvage this and make up for how much she had inconvenienced Smithson by taking him from his duties in the stables.