For Her Country

Sword, Swaddle, and the Scaffold

"Henry, when do we begin training?" Grace looked at her commander, wondering when she would finally learn to fight alongside the warriors. She wasn't the only new recruit to grow weary of shuffling along the countryside as their numbers began to swell.

Ramone couldn't help but stare at his childhood friend between his wild curls. She has taken to braiding her hair down her back and had managed to steal a cloak to cover her tattered clothing.

"And when will I get trousers and something my . . . assets won't pour out?" Grace continued to pester Henry in her eagerness. The girl just wanted to fit in instead of being oggled by her supposed comrades.

Henry came to a stand still, recruits and trained men alike avoiding walking into him, like the parting of the red sea. "Look," Grace stopped next to him, her curiosity and anxiety waging war in her dark eyes. "Nobody is getting any training until they've been presented as a mass before their king. You'll be looked at by the queen. You'll probably be tested, and if you fail, you'll be killed or made part of her fly squad."

"What the bloody Hell is her fly squad? You all keep mentioning it. I've heard some of the men asking if every lady in the fly squad looks like me, and to be quite blunt, I've tired of it!"

"Grace," Henry groaned, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.

"And what kind of a test?" The girl pushed, wanting only to know her fate.

"Grace!" Ramone had finally caught up. "Commander Hale is known for his . . . impatience with those that lack patience themselves," he nodded towards Henry, his eyes glued to the ground.

"Funny that you speak so bluntly before me if you fear me so much, lad," Henry pressed. "You two are from the same village, corect?"

"Yes," Ramone finally looked his higher up in the eyes. " And if you touch her," he stammered, "I'll . . ."

Henry actually snorted. "I see, romance makes the coward willing to stand tall! You fancy her. No matter, any man here who doesn't would be brainless."

Ramone's cheeks blazed crimson. "I do not fancy Grace," but his eyes never reached the girl's.

"Move on, lad, before you make a greater fool of yourself," Henry finally gestured at the men that had started to pool around the trio, taking in the spectacle.

Grace was beside herself, "Ramone has always been a dear friend, do not harass him!"

Henry rolled his eyes, pursing his lips. He finally barked at all the bystanders to move on.

Grace had her hands on her hips, indignantly glaring at the tall man on a power trip.

"Look, I have to bust some balls around here sometime or everyone will step out of line like you," Henry glared back into Grace's eyes.

"That's your excuse for demeaning those around you?" The young woman looked ready to leap for his throat, like a pouncing cat.

"Ramone here," he patted the younger man on the shoulser, like a younger brother, someone being reminded of their lower ranking and value, and claimed, "He needs to be reminded that you aren't here for the scenery. If you wanted to settle down, you'd do it with a real man."

Grace opened her mouth to protest, but Henry just turned Ramone and sent him shambling along with the rest of the crowd.

"Walk with me, Grace."

"Am I supposed to call you Commander Hale, too?"

"Gods, if you didn't spit it out with so much venom I might like that," even Henry could hardly compose his desire for her.

"Pervert," Grace spewed.

"Not as badly as two thirds of the men here," Henry chimed.

Grace just rolled her eyes, her irises filled with a wildness Henry had never seen before. Not from another woman, not from the greatest soldier, not even a royal.

"Look, Grace. I'm not trying to ruin that boy's infatuation with you for my own amusement. I'm not trying to make you miserable. I'm trying to protect you," Henry meant very word he said.

"Why?"

Henry looked wounded, his eyes flitting like a stunned animal. "You remind me of someone I used to know." He looked off into the distance, as if the trees around them kept his secret and were his only solace. "She's gone now."

"Is she who you fight for? Was she your lover?" Grace didn't mean for any insensitivity, but she wasn't prepared for his sudden softness to change so quickly.

"Don't ask about her!"

"Henry, I-" Grace's words failed her and she looked down, focusing on the moss that quieted her footsteps amid snapping twigs and crisp, crunching leaves in all hues of green.

"I'm, I'm sorry, Grace. It was a long time ago. It's beside the point," Henry's walls were back in place, no trace of intimate care left. "The fly squad is the queen's personal spy team. Her ladies bed men of importance to learn their secrets on her behalf. The squad is made up of the best looking women throughout the kingdom. While the king looks for men and young boys for the front lines,  the queen searched for beautiful and intelligent women to learn here at court, or gather intel around the world."

"Oh I don't thinks so, buddy," Grace was both intrigued and disgusted.

Henry chuckled, some if his humor finally returning.

"There's no way I'm sleeping around so that some lady can learn about some guy cheating on his wife and his gambling problems!"

"Hush, Grace!" Henry was thoroughly appalled. "That is your queen you're talking about, you sound border line treasonous. You also don't have a great out look on men as a whole," Henry dually noted.

It was her turn to snort. "Can you blame me?" She gestured at the nearest ogglers.

"Thats exactly why you can't fail that test."

"What kind of a test is it going to be?"

"Some sort of an aptitude test, all the men gave to undergo one before the king. However, they do it all at once to find the weapon they're best suited for. Yours will likely be made onto a huge display."

Grace felt uneasy, Henry's eyes filled with concern. "But how can you be sure?"

"A woman has never been allowed in the king's army before. Likely, I'll have to wager against him."

"You don't have to put yourself on the line like that for me," she felt a pang of guilt.

"It'll be your life or your success. It'll only cost my honor, not my life like it could yours."

"Could?"

Henry nodded, his hair flopping over and off of his eyes. "The king has eyes, too. He'll probably give the queen the option of taking you into her fly squad if he doesn't want you dead to make a point. He has a well known say about never wasting a pretty face. Why do you think I'm a commander and only a year older than you?" Henry winked, managing to insert some dorky charm in this serious conversation.

"I'd rather die than be forced to open my legs for anything but lovw," Grace proclaimed. "But I've never so much as held a sword, how am I going to pass that test?"

Henry stroked his chin. "I have a solution for that, but you're gonna have to pretend to be infatuated with me."

"I knew this had to be winding down to your ego!" Grace huffed.

Henry grinned smugly but reassured her, "This isn't for my ego, that's just the cover up."