Eliza Elenor's belly still ached after a night of uninhibited dining. To the feast Eliza wore a blue dress that split to show her wearing grey pants and black boots. On her arm was a symbol of House Eleanor and on the other was the sign of the School of Chivalry. All graduates wore that wherever they went, wherever party, joust or battle.
Eliza was not the first woman to go to the School, but she was the only one in her class. When the boys were too busy to whistle at the tavern wenches or visit the whores at the Brandyhouse, they would turn to her for enjoyment. It hardly ever went beyond whistles and calls, but several advances ended in bloody noses for both parties. She had the reputation of prude, and a bore. But that was what they said when she would not get into bed with them. There were a select few who she had ever given the pleasure, but she never felt any guilt about it. There was a time in Litici history where women never held swords, and whose maidenhoods were valued more than their lives. Eliza thanks Rannos that she was not born at that time. It was the Time of Crisis, the Litikus Dynasty had been destroyed, the Sparticans were coming down from the north, and the whole country was engulfed in war. Though it was men who fought on the battlefield, but it was the women who carried the future, in their wombs. One was a young lower-level noblewoman, who carried the bastard child of the last of the Litikus Dynasty. This woman would birth a daughter, and Houses great and small fought endlessly for her hand. Thousands of men died, so one could court a young bastard girl.
That story made Eliza laugh. So much death and devastation for a little girl. Reading the accounts at the school library, Cassandra Silver was as fair, kind and innocent as a child could be. One would not think that she would be the one to plunge Liticea in chaos. When she was seventeen, after the same number of years of war, she was finally married to Atorion, the new Lord of House Lanray, the original Dukes of Forthren.
Cassandra grew up under his family's protection, right here in Anton, where it was safe. Back then, the Westland was a neutral sovereign country. All the threats came from north and south, great houses wanting their sons to become King. It was not until the marriage did the fighting stop.
Growing up as the daughter of a Duke, Eliza saw this play out everywhere. Her brother was married now, and her three of her four sisters were betrothed. All to keep Noor bound together by blood. Gold was not the greatest rich in the land, but the prospect of children, born to places higher than their parents. That is the greatest treasure a Baron or Duke could ever hope to dream of. It was worth fighting over.
Did Cassandra know that as she grew up here? Eliza thought to herself. Near the statue of Rannos Litikus, there was a smaller one of a dancing little girl. Cassandra never led any armies, nor conquer any continents. But the value of the blood that flowed her veins made the Lords of Anton deem her worthy to put up next to her distant grandfather.
According to scholars, Cassandra is the one whom all the maids of Liticea should exalt. She united a country after her family was destroyed. Eliza never believed it. Eliza believed she was a scared child used as a means to power. There was one whom Eliza truly admired, but she did not have a place in this courtyard nor anywhere else in Liticea. Diana the Conqueress, who led across land and sea to take so much land, her reach would rival that of the First Empire.
Diana was not Litici, however. She was Spartican, the enemy. She laid the groundwork for what would eventually lead to centuries of conflict between the two countries, decades of brutal occupation, and scores of lives were lost. That is what they taught her in the school. Diana was a tyrant and marauder, that destabilized the north and painted the land red.
But the impression she left on Spartica was nothing to be scoffed at. Since Diana's time, there have female emperors, generals, and politicians. Long before the first woman set foot in the School of Chivalry.
The courtyard had much more than statues. The pathway was lined with Red Hedge, a special bush that blooms red leaves all year round. Behind them stood small trees, sheared into different shapes and sizes. Lord Oaran lived up to his reputation as a man who liked art. There were also sculptures, imported from Useria and across the sea. Metal, marble and wood carved into shapes that Eliza could not possibly make out. Some of the marble statues were of naked men and women; some were without heads arms or either. She could not understand what this was supposed to say, nevertheless why anyone would want such things in front of their home. Markus Eleanor was no stranger to the arts, but never had Eliza seen anything this bizarre.
It was then that one marble man with an unusually long cock caught her eye. He had no head, or arms. Just a body, legs and a long manhood that reached down to his thighs. Can there possibly be such a thing? How could one carry that? Eliza had seen the sight before, but they were barely half as long as what she saw here.
"The artists love to exaggerate. A specimen such as that is a rare find," said a voice behind her that was deep but obviously belonged to a woman. Blood rushing to her face, she turned and met eyes with Captain Bartera Noc, the leader of the Brukalil. Eliza had seen her ride with the Prince and patrol camp, but when they met face to face, she caught her ogling a marble cock.
Eliza's face was as red as the walls of Anton. Noc smiled and let her know not to worry, "Don't feel embarrassed, Lady Eleanor."
"You know who I am?"
"You're the daughter of Duke Markus," Noc said, "You'd have to travel outside the kingdom to find someone who did not know who you were."
"Well, I'm sure you found that quite unlady-like, Lady Noc" Eliza said, referring to the statue.
"We all have our unlady-like moments," Bartera laughed, "And please, call me Bartera. I'm no lady. If you must stick with the formalities call me captain, if you may."
"As you wish Captain Bartera," Eliza agreed, "Might I ask, why are you here in the courtyard?"
"The Prince allowed us a recess for lunch."
"You're not eating?"
"I'm not hungry. Making sure everything is running smoothly is more important," Noc said. Eliza recalled her other name, 'Bartera the Terror,' for the iron grip she commands the Brukalil with. The Lady of Noor heard of men being thrown over the top of the wall for questioning her.
Bartera stood as tall as the proudest knight. Her face was showing the signs of age, but she still a rough beauty about her. She reminded Eliza of the pictures of Diana, her body was thin, but rang with outer and inner strength and her face was sharp, but elegant at the same time.
"Might I ask why the daughter of Markus Elenor is wearing a knight's armor?" Bartera asked. Eliza had been asked this question by numerous disapproving men, but the Captain of the Brukalil seemed to ask more out of curiosity.
"My brother was born lame," Eliza replied, "He couldn't walk until he was ten years old. My mother would not birth another son until six years after I was born. My father charged me with the duty of carrying the family sword."
"I'm sorry for your brother," Bartera offered her condolences.
"Don't be. He's a happy, married young man. I've received word from my mother that they will be with child soon," Eliza was excited to be an aunt, so much so that she did not realize that she was sharing her excitement with a complete stranger. Bartera seemed to notice this too.
"Forgive me, my Lady. I did not mean to intrude on your family matters."
"My family matters are the business of all the Southern Borderlands, apparently," she joked, "Sometimes, I wish I was born to low nobility, such as yourself. Meaning no offense."
"Nothing to forgive. My family is not of high nobility. If they were, I would be in a castle somewhere in the Royal Lands."
"Did you ever marry, Captian Noc?"
"I did. Had two daughters," Captain Noc's stoic face was missing from the pleasantly smiling one that shared laughs with Eliza. The smile, however, faded as she remembered her husband, "He died at the Battle of Brother's Crossing. Though he was low in the nobility, King Austin recognized his bravery. He allowed me and my family a place in Raenna."
"Are your daughters warriors too?"
"No, my lady."
"If I may ask, where are they?" Eliza regretted her curiosity.
"My oldest is Rita, and she is married to Raenna merchant. Very good man. My youngest, Lexi is staying with them."
"Why are they not warriors?" Eliza abruptly asked.
"They never wanted to be, and I didn't want them to be either."
"How did you become a warrior? Hell, how did you become captain of the Brukalil?"
It was midday, and Noc's name was being called by her subordinates.
"I'm afraid that is a story for another time. My Lady," Noc bowed and returned to the castle. Eliza wanted to speak with her more than ever. Though she was a woman, she stood like steel, and her walk was unstoppable as a charging bear. Her silhouette in the sunlight reminded her of Diana the Conqueress. She may not conquer the world, but Eliza may finally have found a Litici woman to look up to. Most of the women is this country were barely worthy of holding her chamber pot.
Everywhere she looked she saw women being pushed around by men, whether they are wives, serving girls or prostitutes. She felt greatly for them. Every time she saw a man grab a woman's ass at the tavern, she wanted to land one right between his eyes. She could do it. Many times she did. But whenever she did, the serving girl thanked her. But instead of accepting the thanks, she scolded the girl that she should have stuck up for herself instead of waiting for stronger women to come rescue her. The girl would then recoil at the words and scurry away. Eliza only hoped that the silly little wench would learn t0 defend herself.
Now Bartera Noc, that is a woman that all others should aspire to be. She intimidates men with her very presence, and if more women would just take charge of themselves and not be walked over, there could be more Nocs in this world instead of scared serving girls.