Jez

Jez grunted as she hit the ground. Hard. Spitting the blood from her split lip out of her mouth, she lunged for her sword, taking it by the hilt and rolling to her feet, avoiding Don’s downward slice as she did so. They resumed to circling each other, the center of attention in the training ground. Jez spit blood out again, not taking her eyes from her friend’s - her current opponent.

“C’mon, Jez!” Don taunted, teasingly, as he moved the tip of his long sword in circles, smiling in a joking manner. “I know you’ve got more than that.”

“You think you’re beating me…?” Jez teased, tossing her short sword from hand to hand, ending with it in her right. “It’s kind of like the concepts of reverse psychology - letting you think you’re winning…and then strike!”

She charged forward, faked when he took the bait, and whipped her sword tip to his neck and grinned.

“Checkmate,” she said simply as Don laughed, dropped his sword, and put his hands up in surrender.

“Touché, Jez, touché.”

Jez smiled, removing her blade from his neck and sheathing it as he retrieved his from the ground and did the same. They clasped arms in a friendly gesture, showing now hard feelings, and joked as they walked back to the sidelines and Sir Kenneth sent the next two combatants out into the ‘arena’.

Another observation that could be made about this rather enigmatic young woman was that she worked doubly hard to prove, not only to herself, but to Sir Kenneth, that she could handle anything that the world of men and combat threw at her. Jez was not one to give in to stress, to pull at her hair and claim that she could not handle the rigorous training regimen. She would fight to her own demise if it meant that she had held her own in the world of men, a world that had cheated her of a happy childhood and a caring family. Day after day, she could be seen examining the swordplay of her companions, comrades all, with a calculating gaze, and if one was close to her, they would know that she was devising the best way to use this sort of move to her own advantage.

Her calculative nature was in evidence as she watched Evan and another of her comrades, Piers, dueling in a friendly yet undeniably competitive manner. It was the nature of boys, she knew, to be competitive, and she had integrated it into a central part of her own nature over the years she’d spent acting as one. Most people noticed that she watched avidly, and they understood this to mean they shouldn’t disturb her - him, as they thought.

After the fight, ending in a draw, Jez turned and paced. She practiced footwork as she did, so it looked less like pacing and more like a strange, disjointed dance. After a bit, it turned less disjointed, and if she hadn’t drawn her sword and did the motions, it would’ve looked like a very graceful, rehearsed dance.

“Jez!” Sir Kenneth called, having noticed her, and how graceful and almost…dainty…she seemed as she went through the patterns. “Jez, you’re up again.”

“All right,” she said, stepping back through the line of boys and facing off with the boy who’d won the match after her own with Don.

“Don’t go easy on me, Jez,” he teased, as the two started the circle, pacing like a pack of hungry wolves.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Juan,” Jez said, rolling her eyes. He smirked in his trademark, wolfish way, and made the first move, lunging at Jez. Having earlier studied his footwork, she knew he was faking left, so effectively parried the blow that came from the right. There were hoots and hollers from the other boys, and Don was taking bets. Jez rolled her eyes again, dodging a strike from Juan and countering with her own. He parried this, and they were off, their swords flashing about as they struck at each other.

The match ended with Juan, laughing, on his back with Jez’s sword at his chin.

“I-I knew I couldn’t take you,” he blurted, “but I thought I might last a bit longer!”

“What Jez has just proved, Juan, is don’t underestimate your opponent,” one of Sir Kenneth’s assistants said, shaking his head but with a grin on his face. Juan was still chuckling as he stood, dusting himself off.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, brushing it off nonchalantly. “It’s nothing I haven’t been told before.”

“Then maybe you should pay more attention,” Jez quipped teasingly, wiping her sweaty palms off on her tunic and returning to the sidelines. Juan just kept chuckling, clapping Jez on the back as he returned to his place in the line of boys waiting their turn to spar again. Once more, Jez let herself step back from the line, practicing footwork and swordsmanship as she did so.

“Need a partner?” a voice asked, as her blade clashed with another. It sent chills up her spine; chills of the good kind, had she been known to be female, rather than believed to be male.

“If you’re offering, then I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” Jez returned, whipping her blade from his and flicking it up to his chin.

“Let’s do this,” Evan Rodelle grinned down at her, in a way that made her cheeks feel warm and her stomach do somersaults.

Simultaneously, girl and her caretaker’s son leapt back and began circling each other, and at the next clash of their swords attracted attention from most of the other boys - including the two who were in the midst of a duel. Jez grinned, relishing the chance to fight with her best opponent. Even though she was not as physically capable for all of this as the boys, she was contestably their best fighter. Contestable, only because she and Evan were fairly evenly matched. Except, of course, when she was on her bleeding days of the monthly cycle.

“Boys, we’ll pause for a moment to watch this,” Sir Kenneth finally said, realizing that the other boys wouldn’t continue as normal when the two better swordsmen among them were having it out.

“Don’t go easy on me, Evan,” Jez said, dancing to the side to avoid one of Evan’s only clumsy moves. “You know I won’t return the favor!”

“Oh?” he said, grinning, “Then what’s this you’re doing? You’re not even fighting back!”

“You haven’t given me a good enough reason to just yet,” Jez teased, parrying his blade and countering with her own also blocked strike, “but when you do, you’re in for it!”
Evan let out a throaty, euphoric chuckle. Jez knew that he loved their playful little bouts and banter just as much as she did - although not for quite the same reasons as those she harbored. Could anyone blame a poor girl, she thought, for loving a boy so kind, beautiful, and utterly out of her reach? Of course not. Not when he was Evan.

She barely dodged Evan’s next move, but countered quickly. He parried this, and used a quick and handy succession of strikes that forced Jez back five paces. She regained herself and came back with one solid, midriff-level swing that Evan jumped back to avoid, and their bout renewed in vigor once more.

The other boys hooted, hollering for whomever they thought would come from this victorious. Don, as was his custom, was asking if anyone would take a bet. Also, as was very like the boy, he had chosen to support Jez this time around, as he had chosen Evan the last time. Don alternated his pick every time that Jez and Evan dueled. His wager wasn’t too substantial, the same with any of the others who took the bet, because they were never quite sure of who would end up the victor.

Jez was not at all ashamed to admit that she was one of the best swordsmen under Sir Kenneth’s current training. It gave her a reason to stay a boy, or to stay masquerading as one. If she just left, they might come searching for her, because she had potential to be in the King’s Company. Or she would have had the potential, had she really been born a boy. When this thought crossed her mind, it gave her a surge of despair. It made her realize that, no matter how hard she tried and even though she’d let herself dare to dream that she may one day make the ranks, she couldn’t become one of the king’s most trusted soldiers. Her gender had betrayed her again, made her unable to do something she had dreamed of since she was rescued.

A particularly strong vibration through her fingers, from the clash of her sword and Evan’s, jolted her more firmly into the present, and she focused her attention once more on the bout.

“Don’t space out on me, Jez, old boy,” Evan said, chuckling. Sweat was beginning to roll down the chest that Jez had been trying to ignore, as it was bare and completely attractive to her feminine side.

“What’s it say about you if I do space out?” Jez retorted, focusing as hard as she could on the clash of their blades and not the proximity of their bodies. “If I can handle you when I’m spacey, what about when I’m not?”

To emphasize her point, she did a complicated pattern effortlessly, forcing him back a total of seven paces. He executed a move that, in return, forced Jez to step back twice, and then they broke apart, circling like rabid wolves looking to fight for their next scrap of meat.

“Touché,” Evan inclined his head, then darted back into the fray, and his sword met Jez’s with another almighty clash.

Another five minutes saw both blades spinning to the ground in opposite directions - Juan diving out of the way of Evan’s, while Jez’s went the way that was opposite to the viewers.

“It’s seems that there is no clear winner this time,” Sir Kenneth mused aloud, a twinkle in his eyes. “I’m afraid that none of you will be gaining money today, but neither will any of you be losing it.”

“Actually, I think I’ll be gaining one piece from everyone,” chimed a voice, “as I wagered on a tie.”

“Miranda,” Sir Kenneth shook his head, turning to see the girl who sat daintily on the fence beside Don, who leaned casually against it. “Don’t I tell you not to sneak out here? We train with real weapons, and we’re aware they can be out of control.”

“I’m well aware of that, too!” Miranda said indignantly, hopping down from the fence. “Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I’m not smart enough to realize that sharp objects can kill people. I’m not stupid.”

“I never said that,” Sir Kenneth said sternly.

“No,” Miranda sighed, “I suppose you didn’t.” Then she grinned, “But that doesn’t change the fact that at least three boys owe me one coin apiece!”

“Cough it up, boys, and we’ll move on. Miranda, after you get your winnings, would you please return to the house?”

“Very well,” she said, albeit reluctantly, “but I’ll be back again later!”

“I don’t doubt it,” said Sir Kenneth, in a very audible whisper.

Miranda grinned as she flounced up the dirt path to the mansion, her skirts trailing slightly in the dirt behind her. Jez rolled her eyes, grinning slightly at the younger girl’s antics, which she figured were just for flirting with the elder Don. And although she was only twelve years old, it seemed that Don was quite taken with her, as well.

After Miranda had left, it was back to business as usual. Evan drew a bucket of water from the well, from which he and Jez both took long draughts from, as well as a few of the other boys, while the fight they’d interrupted continued. And so went another day of training.