Courtly Knights

Courtly Knights

                "Alright," said the big, beefy knight. Compared to the armour of the others present, he was dreadfully out of fashion - but Beatrice was more interested in his muscles.

                "You're all here to get a taste of hunting a monster. The creature we're hunting has been weakened, but it can still kill you. Pay attention at all times - most especially, don't do anything Vicky or I don't tell you to!" hollered the knight. "If you want your group to find the creature first, remember the tracking basics my associate went over with you this morning."

                Beatrice barely kept herself from giggling. She'd missed half of the tracking talk having a conversation with her friends (sometimes enemies). It didn't matter anyway - the knight in each group would lead them to the creature, and the 'signs' to look for were obviously faked. Unlike Miriam I'm not dumb enough to think they'd actually let something properly loose. The operation is a bit ramshackle, sure, but really, Beatrice thought to herself.

                Beatrice wasn't dumb - or she figured she wasn't, at least. She hadn't come along on the hunt just because it was in vogue; she also thought it was all pretty cool. Knights were awesome, and brave, and she and the others were knights too! Without training, but she was sure if they had to everyone would be brave - at least a bit, anyway. They were 'courtly' knights, rather than... Normal knights. They didn't fight as much, and they had a lot of others stuff to do (being part of the court took up too much time). Beyond that, the main distinction was that they were appointed by lords directly, rather than trained and then vouched for by other knights - who had to work with the 'knight registry' of the Duchies.

                Along with the nine other courtly knights Beatrice was taking part in a controlled 'hunt' for a monster. Being a knight in name - and mimicking some of the trappings - was the current epitome of fashion. As well as lacking fighting training their armour was thin and made of a weak metal (so it could be worn easily). Beatrice's - and most of the others' - included touches such as heels, intricate engravings, and useless additional crests and features. It was all very fashionable.

                The knight giving the speech was Miles, a real knight (trained from around ten years of age, skilled in various weapons, made a knight by another knight's vouched request to the registry, the usual). His armour was made of proper steel, though only half plate (the rest being chainmail). It looked heavy, and kind of brutish. Beatrice was happy that she could see the size of his muscles beneath the chainmail on his arms, though. She glanced down at her own armour - a beautiful pattern of roses and vines, with coloured inlays. It made her smile, then realise that she'd stopped paying attention to what the knight was saying (again).

                "No questions? Good," said Miles. "Groups are as follows: Beatrice, Miriam, Odelle, Liam and Ben, you're with Vicky. Mick, Theadora, Eustace, Vincent and Else - you're with me. Let's head out!"

                "I still don't see why we can't have horses," muttered Miriam as the groups split up.

                "It's a forest - can you ride a horse through a forest?" asked Odelle, pointing at the trees and roots.

                "Well, no, but someone could," replied Miriam, "I'm sure Mick could handle it."

                Beatrice tittered. "I know you like how he looks, but he's the opposite of the type you like, Miriam. Maybe you should court Ben?" she asked.

                "He only likes men," retorted Miriam sulkily.

                "Okay!" called out Victoria, from the front of the group and stopping. Beatrice, Odelle and Miriam had been lagging behind quickly caught up. "You guys get to pick which direction we head in first, any suggestions?"

                "Vaguely in the direction we need to go," said Liam. Out of them all, he was the only one weak enough to be unable to wear the light knight armour the rest wore. Instead, he wore 'wizardly' robes and claimed to be a mage-knight. It was all kind of - but barely - a joke; Liam usually implied he could correctly scribe a couple of sigils but he had never done it in public. His 'wand' was completely useless, though he enjoyed bopping people with it.

                "A smart a- one. Fine. You lot are my second group today. We're going to head roughly for the river, and if you see anything of note point it out," replied Victoria.

                "That's what I was going to suggest!" exclaimed Ben proudly. Ben was quite happy to spout off about how he had what it took to be a 'real knight'. His pride had led to him wearing thicker armour than the rest - about twice as thick, although it was still far lighter (and less useful) than proper plate.

                Vicky sighed, and started walking. The group followed her, talking amongst themselves in two groups - Ben and Liam a little in front of Beatrice, Odelle and Miriam.

                "She doesn't seem very happy to be here," said Odelle, pointing at Victoria. Odelle was flighty, and prone to changing her mind quickly - she had been into knights first, then no longer enthused when it started to become stylish, and now she was into it again. She, Miriam and Beatrice bickered sometimes, but were usually quite close. It was why they were attending the hunt together. Odelle's armour was patterned with butterflies and ribbons, rather than the roses and vines of the rest. She was always either at the edge of fashion - or behind. She was behind this time - butterflies were so last season.

                "If she has to deal with people like those two all day, I'm not surprised," said Miriam. She bickered more often with Beatrice - sometimes she was outright malicious - but she held a great respect for authority and expertise. She'd do exactly what Victoria said for the entire hunt, and speak to her with the utmost respect. Unless Victoria pissed her off. Then she'd be... Politely mean.

                "She seems nice enough, looking past how we've all wound her up a bit," said Beatrice. "Though it might just be politeness." Beatrice knew the lack of attention on the part of her and her friends had wound both of the knights up quite a bit. Both had been stalwart in putting up with it - they were being well paid, after all.

                Hunting experiences went in and out of fashion, but when they (or some other part of the work of a knight) was in lordless knights could make a fair living off them alone. Most used them to fund other activities, however, such as hunting trips in areas unable to generously reward or even feed knights. Victoria's armour showed that she had fallen into hard times quite explicitly - innumerable half-piercing tears and deep scratches covered most pieces; the newer pieces seeming to be replacements for those lost to wear.

                Despite the damage to her armour, her face only had a couple of noticeable scars. Beatrice was quite sure a bit of makeup would make the knight pretty, but without Victoria's face still possessed a sort of tough, experienced gruffness that was quite appealing. Beatrice had no idea how Victoria was built under her armour, but she had enjoyed thinking about it earlier. Lithe, supple muscle? Tough bulk? Both would be quite delectable.

                "Stop perving with your imagination, B," said Miriam, "It's rude to stare."

                "Oh, ah," said Beatrice, flushing red at being caught in a reverie. "The walk is giving my thoughts time to wander."

                Miriam and Odelle giggled, and Beatrice joined in awkwardly. "Remember when we called you beetroot?" asked Miriam. "If you weren't so damn cute when you flushed, the nickname would have stuck." Miriam was - much like Ben - only interested in men, but Beatrice's embarrassed flushes were simply that adorable.

                "I did have convince you to stop," replied Beatrice, "Should I call you M-"

                "No, no, I'll stop," said Miriam immediately. It made Beatrice grin - 'Mirry' wasn't a bad nickname, but it was also the name of someone's dog.

                Odelle chuckled, and said, "Save bickering for after the hunt. Let's talk about what I should get on my new armour instead."

                Beatrice, relieved, nodded; and the trio continued on, hanging behind the rest.

                Over the next couple of hours, the group walked and chatted. Ben and Liam chatted with each other for a while, then Ben started hassling Victoria and Liam joined the three girls. Victoria mostly ignored Ben, and focused on leading the way through the forest (though she pointed out interesting or beautiful things).

                Ben wound up abandoning his armour - the double thickness was too much for him to carry (he had only bought it a week ago and was still unused to its weight). The rest of them continued on without trouble, having been used to wearing their light armour for months.

                They reached the river without incident, and after a little discussion (mostly Ben being gently guided towards the right answer by Victoria) they headed in the 'right' direction - the one marked by some obvious 'tracks'. Everyone managed to spot them before Ben did, even Miriam. Liam spent most of the time snickering.

                Victoria guided them in a fairly straight line away from the river. Beatrice assumed that they were heading straight for wherever the monster would be so the knight could save herself from Ben's incessant enthusiasm. She was right, although Victoria was also put off by the lack of much kind of enthusiasm from the rest of the group.

                "Are we close yet? Any more walking and I'll need to be carried!" complained Liam. It was the fourth time he had complained since the group left the river.

                "If you need to be carried, get your friends to do it. We're about half an hour away," replied Victoria. It was the first time that she'd mentioned exactly how much more walking was left.

                "Aww what," muttered Liam. He groaned, but didn't stop moving. Beatrice smiled and Odelle giggled.

                Miriam elbowed him. "Quit it," she said. "She's put up with enough from you already."

                "I'm sure Ben has wound her up more than I have," replied Liam. "But fiiiiine."

                Miriam smiled. "Good," she said.

                A very loud scream suddenly tore through the air. Ben's endless stream of chatter ceased, and the group stopped moving. Soon shouts joined the scream, and other sounds. Beatrice didn't really want to figure out what those sounds were.

                Victoria immediately became very, very serious. "Stay here. I'll be back in five. If you need to run, stay together," she ordered, then took off into the woods.

                "Uh, what?" asked Odelle, confused. "Shouldn't we just get the hell out of here?"

                "Do you even know which way to go?" asked Miriam critically. "We stay put."

                "Yeah, we should do what she says," added Ben. Liam nodded.

                Beatrice noticed that everyone looked petrified. She was scared herself, but also... That was weird. She was hoping for a real fight. She'd never thought she was the type to. It was hard to resist the urge to pull her sword out, despite knowing that it was too flimsy to use in battle. Her hand went her pommel anyway.

                The noises hadn't stopped, and another couple of screams echoed through the woodland. "I'm pretty sure that was -" began Liam, head cocked to one side as he listened.

                "Don't," interjected Miriam immediately. She glared at Liam.

                Beatrice turned away from the group, deciding that it was probably a better idea to keep an eye on the woods. As she turned she noticed that Odelle was breathing really heavily - she was starting to panic. Beatrice took her arm and said, "Don't panic."

                Shortly after Beatrice finished her turn Ben yelled, "Behind you!" Beatrice whirled back around - Ben was standing to her left - and then she saw it.

                The creature stood on four legs, and looked like it was about as tall as Beatrice's knees, or a little more. The front quarter of its body was dominated by a huge mouth filled with large, jagged teeth; and in shape it was like an elongated toad, long back legs folded up beneath it. Its skin looked tough and was a mix of green and brown that made the creature look at home in the forest.

                Odelle screamed. Miriam and Liam immediately took off in completely different directions (Liam vaguely towards where Victoria had gone, Miriam directly away from the creature). Ben drew his sword and started moving towards the beast; Beatrice grabbed Odelle by the arm and dragged her as she took off after Miriam.

                Luckily Odelle came quickly; her feet finding the ground without stumbling as she ran alongside and soon outpaced Beatrice. Miriam was some distance ahead already - Beatrice had no idea how she had managed to get that far. From behind them came a loud yelp that quickly became a scream. When the scream cut off suddenly, Beatrice couldn't help but think It got Ben already.

                Beatrice caught up with Odelle a few moments later. They had to be barely a hundred metres from the monster, yet both had already slowed to a breathless run. Beatrice spared a glance back - the way they had come was already lost behind them by the dense forest trees. Ahead of them, Miriam was already out of sight.

                "Do you think it followed us?" wheezed out Beatrice between breaths.

                "Of course it did!" said Odelle, picking up the pace a little as her panic returned.

                Beatrice began to lag behind Odelle (she was so tired). Then she tripped - her heel slipped off a rock, throwing her balance off completely.

                "Oof!" she grunted, sitting up and noticing that Odelle had disappeared amongst the trees. Crap, Beatrice thought. She stood up and turned around.

                The monster was standing a few metres behind her. It was hard to tell, but she could swear the thing was... grinning?

                Beatrice drew her sword - why didn't I get a real sword shit shit shit - and held it between her and the monster. Her blade gleamed beautifully in the small beams of sunlight that made it through the trees, and its edge was razor sharp - yet despite these qualities, it was far too thin for use in battle. "Back off!" she yelled at the creature, swinging the sword at it.

                The creature leapt into the path of the sword, and took the blow sideways on its rough hide. The blade snapped immediately, an almost perfectly clear note ringing out from the top half as it delicately fell to the ground. It felt like an age. The beast finished its leap with a roll, then stood up unharmed.

                It sauntered towards Beatrice, who slowly backed up. She knew it was backing her towards a tree - but what the hell can I do? Why is it playing with me? The creature opened its mouth and ran its tongue over its jagged teeth. What the hell is it?

                Beatrice felt herself bump into the tree. It's over, she thought. She felt the beginning of tears in her eyes, but instead of despairing completely she brought her arms up. Fuck it, she thought, I'm going to punch the fucker.

                The creature ground its teeth, bent its legs, tensed and -

                Got slammed into by Miles, who came out of nowhere as far as Beatrice was concerned. The creature let out a shriek of surprise, but barely had time to move before Victoria was there as well, embedding her blade deep into the creature with a powerful thrust. With a soft, half-hearted grunt, it died.

                Victoria pulled out her blade and Miles tossed the creature aside. Once he was on his feet, he asked, "Where are the other two?"

                "I - I don't know. They ran ahead. I tripped," said Beatrice, indicating her heels.

                "Rot it," muttered Miles. Then he yelled "Odelle! Miriam!" out into the woods.

                Two people from the other party came into the clearing - one supporting the other. Theadora and Mick; the rather large Mick leaning heavily on the average-sized Theadora. Theadora's armour - the only actual armour amongst the courtly knights - seemed to have survived a bite from one of the creatures. It was thick studded leather and it made her look tough - Beatrice really liked the boots.

                And I'm still thinking about shit like that, she thought to herself. She walked over to the pair and took Mick's other arm over her shoulder. "I'll help," she said.

                Theadora looked at her approvingly. "Thank you," she said, then coughed. "Have you seen Vincent?" Victoria and Miles, having finished chatting about something, split up - Miles running on ahead, Victoria inspecting the creature.

                "No," replied Beatrice. "Did you guys see Liam? And where's- um-"

                "Eustace is fine. He got asked to run back to the town and warn them - we aren't actually that far. We haven't run into Liam. Else is dead, Vincent freaked and ran off. We found Ben's corpse back there," said Theadora rapidly. She was the owner of a merchant company - it was a skill she had picked up as part of her work. The same went for her armour. Her husband, Eustace, was a minor landless noble (fourth son of a baron).

                "Shit," muttered Victoria as they drew close. The knight stood up and said, "The markings on this one don't match, so there are multiple spawnings."

                "Wh - what?" muttered Beatrice. Theadora blanched, and Mick seemed to get more nervous (although he was already deathly pale).

                "Ah, you don't know. There's more than one of these things. Two attacked the other group and were dispatched by Miles and I. These things have markings based upon the clutch they belong to - somewhere between three and six in each. So there are more - almost certainly a lot more," said Victoria.

                As if on cue, a scream came from the woods. "That sounded like -" began Theadora, stopping when she saw the grim look on Beatrice's face.

                "It was Miriam," said Beatrice.

                "We're going to head back to town," said Victoria. "Theadora, you can manage Mick alone, correct?" Theadora nodded. "Alright. Beatrice, take this."

                Victoria unsheathed and held out a steel dagger to Beatrice, who unhooked Mick's arm and took it. "It's enough to get through their hide," continued Victoria. "And take off those kingforsaken heels!"

                Beatrice did as ordered, slicing the heels off her boots with the dagger and then flattening out the ends enough to be comfortable. Apart from the sole, the metal was thin enough even for her to bend with little effort.

                Victoria nodded, satisfied. "Keep behind me. Keep an eye out. Beatrice, take up the rear and look behind you frequently. If one of the creatures lunges at you grapple it - the legs are weaker than they look and as long as you stay out of its mouth you'll be fine. Mick, be ready to be dropped to the ground," she ordered.

                The three courtly knights nodded, and followed Victoria's lead.

                They travelled in almost the exact opposite of the direction Beatrice had been running. Some more noises echoed through the forest - including another scream from Miriam, which Beatrice was relieved to hear. Though almost immediately her mind assumed the worst again.

                She shook her head. Worrying about her friends was pointless. She had to keep an eye out for more of the creatures. If she missed one she'd be the one screaming.

                "Hold up!" came Victoria's voice from up ahead. "None of you have weak stomachs, right?"

                "No!" said Theadora, and Beatrice was pretty sure Mick shook his head weakly.

                "I should be okay!" yelled out Beatrice.

                "Alright. Keep following," came Victoria's voice. She must've ended up a bit ahead; Theadora and Mick hadn't stopped moving, nor had Beatrice behind them.

                Soon they came to a clearing. Victoria stood in the middle, obscuring what looked like a body. Beatrice jumped a little when she saw a monster in the clearing - but it was already dead, and nothing like the creatures chasing them.

                This creature was about waist height, bipedal and missing a leg (for a long time - the stump had healed over). Its open mouth was toothless, and its claws were stubs. If it had once been a mighty threat, it had been hobbled. That's what we were meant to hunt, thought Beatrice.

                The creature had its gut torn open, spilling out strange silvery innards. It looked like a large monkey - like the ones occasionally kept as pets, but larger. Its colour was light green with dark green fur; similar to the grass of the forest. A small pile of what looked like vomit was nearby. The guts didn't agree with the other creatures' stomachs.

                After a quick check around the clearing - nothing ­- Beatrice walked up to Victoria, who was still crouched over the corpse. Beatrice noticed that she held her hand to her chest, and was muttering something.

                The corpse was a mess. The monsters had torn apart the light leather armour the individual was wearing, then spent some time trying to tear off as much meat from the bones as possible. In some places, they hadn't bothered - one of the hands was relatively untouched, as were the knees and parts of the face. The rib cage had been cracked open, and most of the inside cleared out.

                It was the most disgusting thing Beatrice had ever seen by a very, very, very wide margin. "Rot and," said Beatrice, turning away. The image stuck with her. "Who was it?" she asked, hoping to get the image out of her head.

                "A cousin of mine," said Victoria, standing up. "He was a king-follower, so I said the appropriate prayer. He wasn't a knight - he just lives nearby and helps out."

                Victoria pointed around the clearing - "See the blood? He wasn't caught by surprise, but there were too many of the creatures. It looks like he got one pretty bad - it might be dead somewhere nearby. They probably spawned close to here, so it's unlikely they'll be any left around," she said.

                Beatrice finally got the image out of her mind and nodded. "How much further to town?"

                "Not far. If Eustace made it, we'll run into militia pretty soon," replied Victoria, "Let's go!"

                Victoria took the lead again. Theadora and Mick, who had been keeping their distance, shuffled past the corpse without looking, and Beatrice slipped back into the rear. She glanced at the body again, then brought a hand to her face and shook her head. This time, she was trying to shake the image of Miriam and Odelle, torn to shreds and lying side by side.

                Beatrice looked back about three times a minute. There was nothing, every time; and it was always a relief. It wasn't a bad feeling, her adrenaline spiking and then a flood of relief, but it paled compared to the stress and horror she had felt so far. Just get to town, she thought, then you can think about it.

                The brisk walking pace was starting to tire her. Each step caused almost every muscle in her legs to hurt - the feeling you get when you push a stiff and sore muscle onwards anyway. She avoided focusing on it, instead slipping further into the routine of look backwards, check, look forwards again, check just in case, and then start again.

                Fifteen minutes later (though it felt like twice as long to Beatrice) shouts and other noises began coming from up ahead. "Follow as quickly as you can!" came Victoria's voice from up ahead, spurring Beatrice to catch up to Theadora and Mick.

                "Great," muttered Theadora, anger plain in her voice. Beatrice could see Victoria disappearing amongst the trees up ahead - she was heading straight to the battle. A squeal came amidst the other sounds; one of the creatures was dead already.

                "It must be the militiamen," said Beatrice. "Let's hurry!"

                She took Mick's other arm over her shoulder again, then she and Theadora lifted Mick up and began to run as fast as they could while carrying him. He seemed to be enjoying it a lot, which Beatrice found quite strange. Then again, he had always wanted to be rescued (something that didn't match his physique. Of all the courtly knights, Mick was the most naturally fit - and almost the fittest despite his attempts to sabotage his strength).

                They reached a spot from which they could see the battle a minute later, just in time to catch sight of Victoria tearing through one of the creatures with her sword. Yellow blood sprayed from the wound, almost comically, and the creature collapsed on the ground.

                The rest of the 'battle' was going well. There were around eight of the creatures alive, circling or engaging a group of ten militia. The militia had already dispatched some of the creatures (Beatrice could see three slain beyond the one Victoria hit) and only two seemed to have any injuries. As she watched a militiawoman take advantage of the creatures attacks and animal nature to spear one deeply, Beatrice felt embarrassed.

                Ten courtly knights, and we couldn't do anything; yet a bunch of militia with minimal training can easily dispatch these beasts? She closed her eyes for a moment, then remembered to check around. She saw nothing, and turned back just in time to see the creatures start to flee.

                Each of the creatures took off in a different direction - all four that were alive an uninjured. The militia caught one as it fled, and several of their number took off in pairs after the other three. Victoria wiped the blood of an apparent second kill off her blade, and started conversing with the militia's leader.

                Theadora, Beatrice and Mick hobbled up in time to overhear. "Thank you for your help. The courtly fo- knight you sent gave us Miles' warning. Looks like Miles was right about there being a lot. Where is he?" asked the militia leader. She was an older woman - at least in her early fifties, though very fit. Beatrice suspected she had seen the woman before, somewhere.

                "Trying to find the rest of the courtly knights. A few ran off too far to catch up with easily. Miles will be fine on his own, though," said Victoria.

                "I don't doubt it. How many spawnings do you think we're looking at? I haven't told my people yet," said the militia leader. "We haven't seen them here for generations."

                "At least five," said Victoria, "Including the ones here. I'll come back to inspect the bodies, but I need to get these three to town first."

                "Understandable," said the militia leader. "Thanks for your warning - we're pretty sure no-one from town has been hurt yet, apart from those hurt in this scuffle."

                Victoria nodded. "Some money wouldn't go astray," she said. Beatrice was shocked for a moment - it was a knight's duty to do such things! - but quickly remembered that Victoria was apparently unable to pay for proper armour repairs.

                "I'll see what we can do," said the militia leader. "If your plate is as beat up as what you're wearing I'll do some work for you myself!"

                She's the blacksmith, thought Beatrice. The one who... snorted at our armour earlier. It had been quite embarrassing for Beatrice. It was the height of fashion! Now she felt a little differently - she was going to get some thicker armour, even if it was a tiring pain to wear. And a proper sword.

                The militia leader and Victoria exchanged nodded goodbyes, then started off on their separate ways. Victoria beckoned for the courtly knights to follow her so they did so.

                "Miles will bring anyone he finds alive back to town. We'll collect the dead once we've hunted down the creatures, so that that can be dealt with. If you wish to leave town you can probably hire a guard or two to travel with your carriages; or try your luck without," said Victoria, "One of you should remain behind so we know what to do with the dead."

                "I'll stay, along with Eustace," said Theadora. "We were planning to stay a few more days anyway, and go on the cave tour."

                "I'll keep Mick company on the journey home," said Beatrice.

                "I don't really want to leave, yet," said Mick.

                "There's no doctor or surgeon in town. If you want to recover from that wound without risk, you'll take a carriage home," said Victoria sternly.

                "Okay," said Mick. He was meek, as usual. It usually contrasted bizarrely with his stature, but with his injured it seemed sensible instead.

                "Ha," said Theadora softly, with a grin.

                They trudged in silence for a short while before Beatrice said, "Victoria, why didn't you ask one of the militia to guide us back?"

                "Because if anything happened to you three before you got back to town Miles and I would be looking at more shit than we already are. Multiple deaths on a 'safe' tour? We won't hang, at least, but we're not going to be taking tours anymore," she said. "If you three died we might hang. No survivors looks bad to certain types. We'd be struck from the registry, minimum."

                "So you really can be struck from the registry by some dickhead's angry family?" asked Theadora, somewhat incredulously.

                "It happens from time to time. Never to someone with a reputation. Usually someone like me who fucks up big time, or has luck shit all over them like today," replied Victoria. "We should be seeing town... There."

                Victoria pointed forwards. Beatrice rounded a large tree, and saw the town in the direction Victoria was pointing. It wasn't far - maybe a kilometre away. It lay on the edge of the true 'forest' as beyond the town the trees were much sparser (though notably still what Beatrice thought of as a forest).

                "King's blessings," muttered Theadora. The group could see people moving about the town - it seemed everyone was on high alert. Small groups of militia seemed to be keeping a keen eye out, and others were guarding those carrying out necessary activities (such as getting water from the well).

                "We'll pick up the pace a bit now. We don't need to worry about attracting those critters this close to help," said Victoria, continuing on at a swift pace.

                What? I thought we were going as fast as we could! thought Beatrice, as she and Theadora struggled to carry Mick at the pace Victoria set. They managed, but only barely. Beatrice was pretty sure Victoria slowed herself a little, too.

                Soon enough they were back in town, walking through the streets. A local healer - a barely trained militia medic - joined their group and inspected Mick's wound. "Miles handled it out in the woods," said Victoria as the man took a look.

                Beatrice caught a glimpse of the wound underneath the bandages. It was pretty bad - a long, bloody gash from Micks knee all the way up to just above his waste. It didn't look fatal, and was barely bleeding. Some kind of dark powder had been applied to it. Beatrice was pretty sure that it was a coagulant produced elsewhere in the duchies, used to clot large wounds.

                "Well, there's nothing I can do that hasn't already been done," said the healer. "You'll want to get him to a proper doctor, though - I'm not sure if that wound will close without a clear out and some stiches. I could try, but I don't have the time and I might be wrong."

                "Thank you for taking a look," said Victoria. The three courtly knights echoed her thanks, and the healer left with a short, polite nod to Victoria.

                They continued on their way, heading directly to the inn the courtly knights had been staying at. It was quite a fancy inn - a favourite for courtly knights to start whatever 'adventure' was in fashion. The group arrived outside it quickly; just in time to hear a group of courtly knights (had to be, given their 'armour') arguing with a militia captain. Beatrice recognised only a couple of them - many had probably arrived that day.

                "Why can we not join the hunt!" yelled one of the courtly knights. She was tall and graceful, and wore partial plate mail (a few major parts, with the in-between only covered by cloth).

                Beatrice caught the look of incredibly intense irritation on the face of the militia captain as her group slipped inside the inn. There were a few courtly knights inside - some seemed a little scared, others calm. Normal reactions. The ones who felt the urge to go save the day were outside arguing with the militia captain, Beatrice guessed. She and the others stopped beside a table, Beatrice and Theadora gently lowering Mick onto a seat.

                "As is my duty, I have brought you back to town and safety. The payments made to me and Miles will be refunded by courier (including those of the deceased)," said Victoria. "Would you like me to organise a carriage as I head out of town?"

                "Yes, please," said Beatrice. "And keep my fee."

                "And mine," stammered out Mick nervously.

                "Keep mine and Eustace's as well," said Theadora. Seeing Victoria about to say something, she added, "I don't think the money means much to any of us, especially since you got us out of those woods alive. But I can't speak for the dead."

                "Thank you. I must go," said Victoria. "May the luck of the first king be with you."

                "With you as well," responded the three courtly knights.

                Victoria quickly slipped out of the inn. Moments later they heard her yell, "Do whatever Manny here says!" outside. Beatrice didn't quite catch what one of the courtly knights hollered in response, but she did catch Victoria's swearing in return.

                "We should head upstairs, get you and Mick ready for travel," said Theadora. "Eustace will be up there already. If I'm lucky, he'll have kept it together enough and won't be crying for once." Theadora sighed. "Though today's one of the days I can't fault him for it."

                Beatrice nodded. She hoped Miriam and Odelle were still alive, but...

                She felt tears begin to swell in her eyes. "I might - I might head up to my room and take a moment," she said.

                Theadora nodded. Getting Mick up the stairs and lying down, then heading over to her room was a blur for Beatrice - both in memory and sight. She sat down on her bed, looked over at Odelle's and Miriam's, and then cried. Stress, fear, horror, relief, grief; and finally worry for her friends. She hoped they were safe. She wished she had been able to do something instead of running away.

                The carriage didn't arrive until mid-evening, long after Beatrice had calmed herself and packed. The four of them - Theadora, Eustace, Mick and Beatrice - ate at the inn, although none of them said much. News about what was going on was sparse, at best.

                The militia, along with Miles and Victoria, returned to town while the carriage was being loaded. With them they brought Liam, Odelle, and news of more death. Vincent was dead - run down and devoured in the forest. Miriam hadn't been found, but was almost certainly dead - parts of her armour, bloodied and chewed up, had been found. A couple of townspeople had been found dead, as well.

                Liam was completely fine (as he had climbed a tree after realising that the creatures, while deadly, were short and probably unable to climb as well as a human). His guess was right, although a pair of the creatures had staked him out until the militia had wandered by.

                Odelle was severely injured. She had been rescued by Miles at the last possible moment, and he had stayed with her until militia arrived to ensure she could be moved safely. Her left arm was a mess of cuts, and the pinky and middle fingers of her left hand had been bitten off. The creature had also sliced her torso extensively and seemingly randomly, and taken a chunk out of her right arm. Odelle had fallen unconscious shortly after Miles arrived, and she had not woken since.

                Strangely, the immediacy of Odelle's presence let Beatrice focus on her, and getting her in the carriage. She barely listened as Miles detailed what had happened while and after they fled the forest to Theadora, though Miriam's fate did send a wave of sadness through her. Yet with her focus on getting Odelle moving (she needed a surgeon) it didn't affect her immediately.

                It wasn't until the carriage began moving, Beatrice, Liam, Odelle and Mick all inside, that it hit her properly. Miriam was dead, barring a miracle. Beatrice - she wasn't dumb enough to hope against odds like that.

                When Beatrice (and Mick, who had also become emotional) recovered, Liam said "On the bright side; we're alive, aren't we?"

                Beatrice looked at Liam angrily. The four courtly knights were jammed into the carriage - Mick and Liam opposite Beatrice and the still unconscious Odelle. "We're alive. But Else, Vincent and Ben are all dead, Mick's hurt, Odelle's hurt bad, and Miriam's..." Beatrice retorted angrily. She felt the beginning of tears in her eyes again.

                Liam gaped for a moment, then said, "Sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood."

                "Not the time for it," said Mick, glaring and shifting in his seat. "Just be quiet and let me get some rest."

                "Fine," said Liam, with a sigh, "I'll get some rest too."

                Beatrice tried to drift off herself, but couldn't. The stress and horror of the day made it hard; her worry for Odelle made it impossible. Beatrice's eyes wandered over to Odelle. They'd propped her up against the edge of the carriage so she'd be less likely to fall over during the journey. There hadn't been any close calls yet, but the roads weren't cobbled and the occasional pothole jolted her about.

                Right then, however, the road was smooth, and Odelle looked peaceful despite the bandages covering much of her body. If we anything about fighting, at all, we would have been fine, she thought, avoiding thoughts about the fresh blood staining Odelle's bandages.

                The militia were fine - and they can't be that well trained, Beatrice thought. Her mind wandered back to the militia - many of them had been wearing clothes that marked their trade under whatever armour they had - often nothing marked them beyond the cloth they tied over one shoulder to show their membership of the militia. If we had training and proper weapons... Maybe none of us would be dead.

                No. If even just I had training, we'd have been fine. We all just play at being knights without really being knights at all. That's just stupid. But too obvious for me to realise. I don't - I can't give it up, I'll still have the knighthood even if I pretend not to. Asking it to be stripped of it would... Ruin my reputation too much.

                Beatrice sighed. That's it then. I'll learn how to be a knight. A bit, at least. Enough. Training, a proper weapon, thicker armour... And no more heels.