Chapter Twenty-Three: A Standard Monkey

The assembled masses looked at Val… hundreds of people, every eye on her. Well… most of them on her. It was a cool winter afternoon, but she sweltered beneath the ducal mail and fine blue tunic, the noble crest upon her shoulder. It was easy to imagine that this was a bad dream.

The pennant was heavier than she might have expected. Twenty pounds, probably, and whipping about as wind churned about the courtyard. She'd had her hair tied back into a braid, so at least that was under control. Unlike her stomach. She thought she might vomit… in front of probably five hundred people. Instead she cleared her throat and said her lines with as much authority as she could muster.

"Lords, ladies, and esteemed subjects, all stand for Ansibald, Duke of Aurilicht, rightful ruler of all Sudria, long may he reign!" Val said. She thumped the standard against the marked spot on the dais, evoking a satisfying boom.

"Long may he reign!" the crowd cheered… though there was some visible confusion as to why this girl was announcing the duke.

It was only the second time she'd ever announced the duke. The first was before the 1st Voluntary Battalion. Technically, she wasn't supposed to announce military events yet. Not until Tobbin Zollen indicated that Val was ready for the job. But the battalion hadn't yet been sworn in, and so they weren't military yet and so Val was allowed to do it for practice. That had been about five hundred men and women, too, but they'd all been at attention, eyes forward, no expression when Val had announced it. The crowd was a lot less disciplined.

The duke strode up to the high platform two paces to Val's left, followed closely by his mom and then a quartet of nobles - two military and two administrative. Ansibald was only seventeen, but he was taller than the average soldier and almost as broad. His teeth were like polished pearls when he smiled - and he smiled a lot when it was time to do his peacock strut in his gold-accented armor, his circlet, and his royal blue cape. But he wasn't smiling today. No, he was right pissed.

"Dearest subjects! We have been wronged! We have been attacked!"

"We shall see this injustice repaid," Mrs. Eatherfine whispered.

"We shall see this injustice repaid! Three agents from our eastern neighbor have infiltrated this very palace!" He jabbed a finger toward the gleaming white spires of the palace behind him. "They have attempted to poison me and my guests on Mittvanter, a holy day! Now two lie dead and four remain grievously wounded from this cowardly attack! And I have named as my standard and squire she who thwarted the attack - Valkyrie Valicent-Vinzenno, whose blood speaks for the ancient kings and queens of Sudria and whose allegiance to me is absolute…"

Absolute was pushing things a bit far, but Val hadn't written the speech. She had heard Mrs. Eatherfine drilling versions of the speech for her son. The duke was a decent if reluctant study.

In the aftermath of the attempted poisoning, two nobles who'd sampled the mead a bit early had died. Four kitchen staff had breathed in fumes from the heating mead and gone ill, though all had eventually pulled through on account of healing potions and expert medical care. After grasping the gist of what Val was trying to say back in the Pilgrim's Passage Hotel, Ette and Ginn had managed to round up three of the Bolearic conspirators (one of whom was the ringleader's cousin and may have had nothing to do with it) and present them to the ducal guard when they eventually arrived. A fourth assassin was currently at-large.

Val reflected that at-large was an odd term for somebody who was in hiding. Usually, very large things were pretty visible and easy to find. If anything, the phrase should have been 'at-small'. Just the opinion of one small-ish person.

"… bring the assassins out!" the duke finished.

"Val," Mrs. Eatherfine whispered.

"Right," Val said. She pounded the standard staff against the hollow stone with a satisfying thump-thump. Being a standard bearer required a lot of attention.

The whole crowd was silent as the three men were led out in shackles. Two of them looked to be in pretty rough shape, bruised and scuffed up, while the third was understandably nervous but in pretty decent shape. He must have been the one who talked. The guard forced them onto their knees before the duke.

The duke's pennant whipped around in the wind, buffeting against Val's face and blocking her view. She ducked to get a better view - if she was going to miss fighting classes to stand in the cold in front of five hundred strangers, she was bloody well going to witness an execution. Part of her was vaguely excited about it… and another part of Val reminded her that these three men had been willing to intervene when they thought Jasil's dad was going to attack her. One of them was willing to use a blade to protect her. Val was getting pretty good at protecting herself - even Ette said it… Sabine, too - but those men hadn't known it. The part of Val that whispered that wondered whether those men couldn't just be thrown in jail for a very long time…

"… any final words?" the duke said. His sword glinted in the sunlight - he was going to do the deed himself. His father had told him that any man willing to put another to death had better be willing to carry out the sentence. He'd taken it to heart. Tobbin Zollen had told Val, in confidence, that the sword was enchanted to make cutting easier, because otherwise it could take two or three strokes to behead a man if you hit bone.

"I regret only that I did not succeed!" the ringleader said. He said it in Peliac, so he'd be lucky if one person in four present could understand him, and most of them probably couldn't hear that well on account of the wind.

"Oh Almighty, into your embrace I fly!" the second said.

"Oh people of Aurilicht, now you see the act of a despot! In these trying times…"

"We said no speeches," the duke said. That man was first to go, then the middle, then the first.

The strange thing was that the blood didn't bother Val in the least. She'd seen blood plenty of times before, even if this was a lot more than she was used to. It was the way the man nearest to her twitched after his head left his body. Without warning, Val bent over and vomited right on the snow-white marble of the palace dais. She wiped her mouth and grimaced, choking back bile. It wasn't the first beheading she'd ever seen, obviously, but it was the first she'd ever seen up close. The sight kept playing over in her head… she really wished it wouldn't.

The duke paced the platform right behind the three bodies. "Justice has been served for these three, but these are the bastards who thought to behead an entire nation! And they are not alone - they act at the behest of the corrupt and wicked within the Regency Council. But I am the rightful ruler of Sudria…"

Val thumped the standard twice. She'd been paying attention for that one.

"We have demanded restitution for this heinous act, and the Regency Council, in their 'wisdom' have seen it fit to refuse us! They insult us, my people! They insult you! And if they will not admit the wickedness of their ways, then we will make them admit it, won't we? I, Ansibald, rightful ruler of Sudria, call upon you to volunteer for our defense force. We will protect our homes… we will protect our spouses and children, and we will protect our villages. These criminals will learn that Aurilicht will not lay quiet as the monsters prowl. What do you say we behead a thousand Bolearic bastards? What do you say we cut through them until they cry for mercy, just like the two poor souls who died of foul treachery at the hands of assassins? Just like the seven who died in the Borwuth Lumber Mills in that cowardly raid? Of the twelve who died at the hands of the Penitent Brothers as they tread across our land unwelcomed? Who among you will lift your sword and say my life for Aurilicht!"

That was Val's cue to raise the pennant and take a step forward, so she did.

"My life for Aurilicht!" about half of the crowd shouted. Val thought the duke would be lucky to get a quarter of that for his army.

"Let it never be said that the people of Verdenlecht are not brave and proud! Your duke is humbled by your commitment! We will meet these foul bastards on the battlefield!"

The crowd seemed to think this was a very good idea, though Val had her doubts. But now wasn't the time to voice them. Now was the time to wave the pennant back and forth, so she did.

+++++

Usually, the duke's standard bearer was a squire and the son of a noble family… Val was none of those things, obviously. It was also a full-time job, or at least had been back in the old days. She was expected to live in the palace and to be ready to suit up and rush to announce the duke and wave his flag around. Mrs. Eatherfine even brought Val to the room she would be staying in - being escorted by the dowager duchess was, apparently, a pretty big deal. At least the guards seemed to think so.

"And this is where you'll stay - it's an upper servantry room… just one hallway down from the noble suites. I think you'll agree it's enough for your needs. You'll have access to the laundry service, the baths, the kitchen…"

Val paced the length of the room - it was slightly larger than her room at the Vinzennos, though it seemed somehow more cramped on account of having to fit a study desk, a dumbwaiter, and a pair of armor-cleaning racks into the room.

Val looked Mrs. Eatherfine in the eye. "No."

"No?" The dowager duchess seemed more amused than angered. "What's wrong with it?"

"I've got a home now, my lady. That's where I live, and I'm not moving."

"My dear, being the duke's squire is a full-time job. You'll be expected to be at his beck and call whenever needed."

Val moved to the armor rack's - one for her armor and one for the duke's. Most of what Val had learned under Tobbin Zollen was how to care for the duke's armor, how to saddle a horse correctly, and a bunch of other pointless drudgery that Val didn't need or want to know.

"I'm not the duke's squire, though, am I?" she said. "I'm not a noble - nor a boy, which I gather squires usually are. You asked me to carry the duke's flag and shout his name, and you said it was a great honor… I’m grateful for that, my lady. Really, I am. But I've already got a job, and I'm training in magic and combat whenever I can. If you need a boy to clean the duke's armor and saddle his horse and carry his pennant around… I don't doubt you'll have a dozen lined up and eager to help."

"Is it a title you want?" Mrs. Eatherfine asked. Suddenly, she seemed very on-edge, her amusement at Val's insubordination suddenly gone very cold.

"No, because then I'd have to do this full-time. No thanks, my lady. I'll never get good at the things I like if I'm cleaning your son's armor all the time…"

"And… what you like… is fighting and magic?"

"And streetball," Val said. "But that's just a game."

The dowager duchess chuckled. "You're a very strange girl, Valkyrie. Very well… if you don't wish for the trappings of palatial life, I won't foist them upon you. But you will be here when the duke summons you, even if you're in the middle of fighting or magic…"

Val grinned. "Even streetball?"

"Sometimes, our duty to country requires great sacrifice," Mrs. Eatherfine agreed. "And when it comes to wartime, I cannot guarantee that even your serious endeavors will be spared. Your role as the duke's standard is symbolic, and symbols must be seen."

Val figured that had gone about as well as things could go. She hadn't gotten into trouble with anybody and still got to do most of the important things. Instead of living in the palace, she'd get a list of times when she was expected to show up (in addition to finishing lessons, which Val considered herself pretty much finished with) and, if other times came up on the fly, the palace would dispatch a page to the Vinzenno residence.

Twice, they showed up and she wasn't home, and Val ended up getting pulled out of ice skating and streetball, respectively. And, in the second case, her and Nikoli's team had been crushing Iselde's team four goals to one. In the scheme of things, Val figured that was a pretty modest inconvenience.

+++++

Val had just finished helping Ette get cleaned up from breakfast when there was a knock on the door. Still in just her socks, Val padded over, desperately hoping it wouldn't be a page from the palace.

"You ready to get your arse beat?" Nikoli said.

Val grinned. "I'm ready, but it just doesn't seem to be happening," she said. "You haven't been making your proper devotionals to Fereor, Niko." Fereor was the Old Sudren god of battle and valor - he was the brother of Valkyrie, actually.

"Har har." Niko said. "We're fighting the vols today, anyhow." She stepped past Val without an invite, which was pretty standard with her. She was a year older than Val and very nearly as tall as Ginn, her blonde hair tied back in battle-braids, her blue eyes sparkling in the nippy morning of early springtime. She looked far more like Val's namesake than Val herself did.

"If you're going in, then so am I," Iselde said, and she brushed right past Val, too.

Iselde didn't like fighting exercises as much as Val or Niko, but since everybody else was doing them, she wasn't about to be abandoned by her friends. Val got her friends each a mug of café and a berry biscuit while they waited for Ette to finish his preparations - fighting practice wouldn't happen until Ette was there, so there wasn't much point in making a rush of things.

Ette walked in, finishing the buckles of his jacket. "You girls ready to fend off the enemy?"

"I thought they were fending us off," Iselde mumbled past her biscuit.

Something vaguely predatory flashed in his eyes. "Right you are! So let's not keep our brave defenders waiting!"

They proceeded to their practice area, a stretch of abandoned buildings near the flooded square. The square itself was now mostly un-flooded since the duke had ordered the canal reopened. The Pale Order had decried this as yet another in a long litany of acts of religious persecution. And, frankly, they might have been right - the dowager duchess was acutely aware that the church had been rabble-rousing and was not opposed to making her displeasure known. That was part of what Val liked about Mrs. Eatherfine.

They met up with a group of orphans milling about the square. The Orphanage at Hale Wulde had been encouraging its wards to engage in early fighting practice to calm the more rambunctious students for their morning lessons. Today, as usual, it was an even mix of girls and boys - six and seven, respectively, and Val evened things out. Not that they were competing against one another… no, today they were competing against the adults.

Presently, Sabine rounded the corner and marched her squad into the square - nine men and three women from the looks of it. These were the locals who'd volunteered for the home guard.

Being the city's foremost experts on urban combat and now semi-famous as the people who'd nabbed the would-be assassins, Ette and Sabine had been employed by the duke to teach the most promising volunteers, usually people with some weapons experience, to be squad leaders. Once trained, each squad leader would be responsible for training and maintaining operations for a group of ten to twenty volunteers living in their vicinity. Val hadn't asked how much they were getting paid to train the volunteers, but it had to be a lot more than they were getting paid to train the orphans, which was nothing. Each considered it part of their duty to the temple - their paid class was in the early evening.

"All right, folks!" Sabine barked. Val wasn't sure whether she had any military service in her past, but she certainly had the bearing of a drill sergeant. "You may soon be asked to defend your streets and homes against the enemy, and so you will be on the defensive today. Your goal is to defend the three buildings we designate against the toughest and most devious opponent we could find - these children! Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes, ma'am!" they barked back.

"I certainly hope so, because Mr. Vinzenno and I both have two marks riding on this exercise, and I want those marks!"

Val knew for a fact that Sabine and Ette hadn't made any such bet, because it was a virtual guarantee that Sabine would lose. Her squad was in its third or fourth day of practice, stretched across two weeks. The orphans of Hale Wulde mostly attended five days a week and had done so for months. Granted, most of that was fighting and not tactics, but tactics made a lot more sense when you knew how to fight. Which Val did.

Ette had remarked more than once that Val was frighteningly good at fighting, which she ought to have been, since she practiced every day, even her days off. But she also wondered whether it was true, because neither Sabine nor Ette had any problem showing Val the floor when they had half a mind to. Granted, they were a lot bigger than she was, especially Ette, but there were plenty of adults who Val could roll around like playful puppies. Maybe that was the point.

"What are you thinking for tactics, girls?" Ette said. They were crouched around the corner so as not to see Sabine's people making their adjustments - they weren't to cause major damage or permanent changes to any of the buildings, but they could move things around to their heart's content, and it sounded like their hearts yearned for a lot of movement. Ette addressed them as 'girls', because he was really addressing Val and Niko, who always took point in their sub-squads.

"Monkeys," Val and Niko said simultaneously. Then they giggled, also simultaneously.

"Monkeys," Ette repeated. "Yes and no."

'Monkeys' was just shorthand for saying that the four or five of them who were best at climbing would do the heavy lifting. Or, more appropriately, fast climbing. Iselde was the best climber by a fair margin, but Val was in a four-way tie with a few others for next best. And Val was the best tactician.

"Ms. Bonnikin will have told them to check the windows and roofs, which is no big deal. But Sabine will be in one of those three buildings, and whoever goes through the upper story of that building is toast. We'll still need to sacrifice somebody as a decoy, though - anybody but Iselde." Val tapped her foot as she thought. "No. It should be Iselde. She'll climb up, make a show of spotting Sabine… er, Ms. Bonnikin, and then 'panic' and go for the roof. That'll distract Ms. Bonnikin long enough to take her out of play when her squad needs her."

"That sounds like a plan," Ette said. "But how will we know which building Ms. Bonnikin is in?"

"I'd be in the left of the three buildings," Niko said. "Well… the right building if you're facing from their direction way. It's got a full view of the courtyard from the front window."

"Though Sabine will go to the back window once she spots us going for the alleyways," Val said.

Ette nodded, clearly pleased. "It sounds like we've got our tactics, then. Val… Niko… Ezander. You're my three corporals today. Ezander, you've got the left shop. I'm in your squad, but you're calling the shots. Niko and Val, decide among yourselves which of the other two buildings to take."