Jerico laughed.
“That so? Kalgan may be right, but you’re wrong about me. I’m hardly old. See any grey hairs on my head?”
She rolled her eyes, obviously not impressed with his defense. Jerico laughed again, then quieted. His eyes fell on her left arm, which was hidden by a long sleeve that, while matching in color, was clearly a new addition. Reaching over, he carefully folded the sleeve twice, revealing the stump ending at the elbow.
“You shouldn’t hide it,” he said.
“Ma says…” She blushed and looked away. “Ma says if I don’t, the boys won’t like talking to me, and no one will want to marry me.”
He gently tucked a finger underneath her chin and forced her to look at him.
“Smile, and those boys will see nothing but how beautiful you are.”
Her blush deepened.
“Are you ready for your exercises?” she asked.
Jerico took in a deep breath, then sighed.
“Yeah. Let’s do it.”
Beside the log was a simple creation Jerico had asked Kalgan to make for him. It was a heavy stone with a hole in its center. Through that hole Kalgan had threaded strong rope, forming a second loop along the top. It was that loop Jerico stuck his foot through, sliding it up to his ankle. Shifting his weight on the log until he was comfortable, he nodded to let Beth know he was ready.
“Any song in particular you’d like?” she asked.
“Sing your favorite. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”
The second day he’d been bedridden, though his skin had mostly healed, and only the bones needed to be knit back together. Beth had recovered from the bite, and come to him to express her thanks. While he lay there, still battling fever, she’d sung softly to him. Several times he’d drifted off to the sound of her voice, and awoken later to hear the same crystalline beauty. Because of her injury, she’d been excused from nearly all her chores, so when he’d begun preparing his recovery, she’d offered to help.
Beth sang a song of a highwayman in love with a forest maiden, and the whole while, Jerico struggled to lift the stone. He pretended the pain was an enemy, but if it truly was an enemy, it was defeating him. Kren’s blow had eradicated much of his muscle, and while he’d tended it best he could, the newly healed flesh still felt withered, unreliable. Sweat dripped down his neck as he lifted again and again, sometimes pulling it an inch or two off the ground, sometimes not even budging it. Whenever he could, he focused on the lyrics instead of his pain. By the time Beth’s song ended, he slumped, leaning back on his arms.
“Enough,” he said. “I need a moment to breathe.”
Beth nodded and said nothing. As he recovered, Jerico glanced at her, and finally decided to ask about something that had been bothering him.
“That boy, Ricky, he came to us in the forest when you were bitten. I thought I heard he was your brother, yet later Kaide said you were his only child left.”
Jerico felt awkward asking, and was relieved when Beth rolled her eyes, clearly having had this conversation before.
“Ricky’s not my real brother, nor is Ma… Beverly my real mother.”
Jerico nodded. He’d met Beverly, a plain but kind woman who was Ricky’s mother. She’d come to thank him for what he’d done, once Kalgan had allowed people to visit.
“What happened to your mother?”
Beth brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Do you want another song?” she asked.
Jerico nodded.
“Faster tempo, if you would.”
This time she sang a ditty that’d be right at home in a tavern, and he forced the stone from the ground every single repetition. His knee burned, and the muscles of his lower leg quivered, but he did not relent.
When the fifth song was done, they called it quits. With Beth’s help, Jerico limped down to the pond and splashed water across his face and neck, then dipped his leg below the cold surface. After another few minutes, he tried to stand on his own. He wobbled. Beth went to steady him, but he pushed her away.
“Should have taken Kalgan’s offer up for a cane,” he muttered. He’d made his way to the pond just fine, and by Ashhur, he was going to walk back to town as well.
“Maybe I should have sung shorter songs,” she said as Jerico took another pained step.
“Then I would have made you sing more of them. I’m not daft, girl.”
At her angry frown, he laughed.
“Sorry. You’re right. Tomorrow, I won’t push myself so hard. I promise.”
“You said that yesterday, and you had to rest three times on the way back.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
“You did, and you broke your promise again today. Some paladin you are.”
Jerico feigned a hurt look, and then he took another step, and feigning was no longer required. Step by step, they made their way back to the village. Jerico had every intention of collapsing back in his bed and sleeping for ten hours, but as they reached the edge of town, he heard a sound that made his stomach harden.
“What’s going on?” Jerico asked, his voice low.
“Knights from Yellow Castle,” Beth said. “Please, Jerico, go back. My father says…”
He gently pushed her aside and turned the corner.
A man and a woman were there, the woman standing before the door to her home, which was shut behind her. Already parts of her dress were torn. The man towered over her, wearing chainmail and carrying a sword that swung from his hip, still sheathed. Her kissed her on the neck as she pleaded with him to stop.
“Tithes and taxes,” the knight said. “You know you need to pay the lord his due.”
When she turned away from him, he slapped her with his hand, which still wore a gauntlet. The metal bruised her face, and blood dripped from her swollen lip. Jerico took a step closer, unnoticed by either. Stunned, he looked about. They were not in hiding. At least three people walked past, and they kept their eyes ahead, refusing to even look. Anger swelled in Jerico’s chest. He turned back around the corner, a fire in his eyes. Beth saw him and paled.
“Please, you can’t interfere. You can’t!”
“I can.” He hobbled to a pen currently empty of animals, which were still out in the fields. Resting against one side was a shovel, and he took it. Its handle was long, sturdy. Maybe not as potent a weapon as his mace, but it’d do. Beth stepped back, chewing on her fingernails. Limping around the corner, Jerico thought he must look the most pathetic savior, but it didn’t matter. He would not stand by and watch, no matter the reason, no matter what the rest of the village thought or did.
The woman’s blouse was mostly torn, exposing one of her breasts. The knight had cast aside his gauntlets, one hand holding her wrist against the house, the other feeling wherever he wished. Jerico limped closer. The woman saw him, and her eyes widened. He swung. The flat side of the shovel connected with the back of the knight’s head, which slammed forward, striking the door. His legs went weak, and he collapsed onto his rear. The woman stood shocked still, sobbing.
“Cover yourself,” Jerico said to her. “And go to friends, or family. Now.”
She pulled at her dress and rushed away, too scared to say a word. Jerico stood before the knight, holding the shovel in both hands. He kept his movements still, not wanting to reveal the weakness of his knee.
“You bastard,” the knight said, spitting blood. “I’ll gut you for that. This is Lord Sebastian’s land, his town, and his fucking taxes.”
“Were you looking for coins down her blouse?”
The knight grinned, revealing red-stained teeth.
“You really think you’re gonna walk away from this? You’re a farmer with a shovel.”
He stood and drew his sword. His stance was uneven, his balance clearly shaken, no doubt from the blows to his head. Jerico shifted, planting his weight on his good leg.
“I used the flat side as a warning,” Jerico said. “But this iron’s heavy, and the sides are sharp. The next time I hit you, it will leave more than a bruise.”
The knight’s sneer showed how worried he was. Taking a step closer, he swung, a simple overhead chop. Jerico blocked it with the handle of his shovel, wielding it much as he would a staff. The wood was thick, and though the sword cut an indent, it was far from breaking through. Twisting the shovel, Jerico pushed away, changed its angle, and then struck him on the return swing. The metal end smacked into his exposed face, this time blasting free a tooth.