Chapter Two:
The Betrothed
"Hello, Miriam." She sat alone at the table as I entered my apartments. "Where's Imogen?"
"Um..." I'd only asked because I never saw the one without the other, but her hesitation to answer worried me.
"Where's Imogen, Miriam?" I inquired more insistently. Not too forcefully, because cowing a shy 13 year-old takes minimal force.
"I don't know," Miriam admitted, "She went somewhere with Corporal Kemptrux."
"Miriam, did Imogen want to go with the corporal?"
"Uh-huh," Miriam nodded enthusiastically.
"That's alright then. As long as she wanted to go." Really, it wasn't all that surprising with the two teens being together all the time. "We'll have to see about getting you a soldier too," I ruffled her hair, "in a few years maybe. For now, you should probably get to bed, no?"
"Without Imogen?" She'd probably never been without her sister at night.
"I'm going to read for awhile. Want me to read aloud?" I offered.
Miriam nodded. I read by candlelight in the servants' quarters until she fell asleep. Late as it was and dull as siege planning is, she dropped off quickly and I moved back to the table to read.
Not for the first time, I considered that I'd a household full of teens and no adults to run things. While I'd little use for a valet myself, maybe having a proper adult in my service to look after all the kids in my service wouldn't be the worst thing.
Two hours later, Kemptrux and Imogen tried to sneak in quietly.
"Milady, we were just..." Imogen trailed.
"Off being teenagers?" I suggested helpfully. "It's alright. But probably time to be off to bed now, Imogen?"
"Yes, milady." She hurried off.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. Time got away from us," Kemptrux apologized.
"Don't worry about it. And don't feel like you need to sneak around. But you will be getting up with the dawn and me to go riding, so you'd best get a couple hours of sleep," I clarified, "in your own room."
"Yes, ma'am."
Dawn came quick. Kemptrux definitely moved and responded more slowly than she should have, but a lack of sleep is its own best chastisement. The dog-tired corporal might rethink staying out so late next time, especially since she couldn't even indulge in complaining of an exhaustion that was her own damned fault.
My maneuvers and halts remained crisp and precise. Savaran's hooves pounded clouds of dust up as he cut and wheeled cleanly in and out of hard galloping. Only my searching distracted me, peering between the merlons and in the windows for the early sun to be reflected off a spyglass. I thought I saw a flash a few times, but couldn't be certain.
Seven bells rang out. We returned the horses to the stables and ourselves to my rooms, whereupon we met Vostiv.
"Good morning, ma'am. I'm Vostiv, twelfthborn of Miwirdya." She wore the carob and hunter green of House Miwirdya, so that wasn't terribly surprising. The 'v' at the end of her name, versus the 'x' that I'm sure would be there one day, denoted an expected warrior yet too young for caste designation. I instantly liked her for her stalwart bearing and confident tone.
"Well met, Vostiv. I'm Lieutenant Taiglox, thirdborn of Trijox, House Laerdya. This is Corporal Kemptrux, 1st company, 1st guardswoman regiment, 2nd division, House Laerdya. What can we do for you?" I liked her, but didn't understand her purpose.
"Ma'am, I've been assigned to your household by Princess Yonjax. I'm to be your page." Assignment as a page is not at all unusual for great houses, where young nobles can make connections and learn advanced skills by being placed in the households of other nobles. Since the connections and skills I had to offer were all cavalry related, I assumed Yonjax sent her to me for training ahorse.
"Page?! You're a whole bleeding book aren't you?" The girl stood almost nose to nose with me in height and had already filled out some and built up some musculature. Pages were usually between six and 12 years of age, maybe as old as 14, but not the hulking womanchild before me. "How old are you?"
"Twelve, ma'am," she beamed, "I shot up several inches this year." Yonjax choosing me made even more sense. The girl would already wear heavy armor with relative ease, but might break the back of a light cavalry jennet once she finished growing.
"Well, welcome, Vostiv," I clapped the youth's shoulder, "We're grabbing some breakfast. Won't you join us?"
"Yes, ma'am."
We all sat at the table and ate. Kemptrux scarfed hers quickly, but Vostiv had to answer my questions.
"You plan to join the warrior caste, Vostiv?"
"Yes, ma'am," she agreed reflexively and paused, "It's my hope that, if you find me worthy, I might become your squire someday."
"Ah," I shared a glance with Kemptrux, "I'm not a knight actually."
Vostiv's face fell for a second, but her bearing was such that she regained her composure as quickly as she lost it and didn't speak her disappointment.
"But, as a member of my household, I'll seek out a proper knight whose service you can join. In the meantime, I am a cataphract in the Queen's army, so I can't teach you all that stylish tourney pageantry, but there's no one better to train you to ride in battle and to kill from horseback."
"That sounds excellent, ma'am."
"To that end, do you have any page-y type studies you're required to attend?"
"Yes, ma'am. From 9 to 10 bells we meet in the West Forum to study heraldry, history, and sciences."
"Good. Continue that. You'll also join Kemptrux and me from dawn to 7 bells for riding and from 5 bells to dark for weapons training. Between riding and weapons training you'll find no less than two hours to study proper warcraft texts. Other than that, do as you like mostly."
Vostiv queried, "You don't have any duties for me?"
"Maybe message carrying? I keep my own kit and tack. So will you. Imogen and Miriam handle everything else."
"I don't have any kit or tack, ma'am," Vostiv admitted, "Pages aren't bought such things."
"Well, my pages are. Kemptrux could use new gear too. I'll take you both to decent smiths when I get a free day. Until then, you'll need to borrow from the fortress guardswomen for training."
"Thank you, ma'am!" they chorused.
We finished eating and Kemptrux excused herself, but Vostiv stayed. "Ma'am, you have your guardswoman sit your table and eat with you?"
To be fair, Vostiv was honestly asking about a behavior she didn't understand and not intentionally insulting Kemptrux. I felt compelled to start her martial lessons with a correction to her attitude all the same. "Yes. If a woman is good enough to shed blood for my Queen, she's more than good enough to eat at my table."
"I'd not heard the thing put such a way," Vostiv frowned and nodded, years of not seeing guardswomen as whole people dimming her view, "I should think on it."
"Do, but," I warned, "to be a successful military leader, you're going to need to adopt that attitude in the field whether you agree with it or not. Never eat better, ride less, sleep more, or train easier than those who follow you. Don't be stingy with money, spoils, or credit and don't be above any soldierly pursuits."
"Or they'll
mutiny
?" she whispered, glancing about like a young girl naming a ghost.