An Aimless War - Chapter 37: Chapter 37

Jalor spurred his horse into a canter and lowered his lance. As always, time seemed to slow down and his mind focused on the opponent rushing towards him. He ignored the cheering of the crowd and the fluttering banners that adorned the track. All that mattered was his horse's steady canter and aiming his lance perfectly.
The lance shattered as it hit his opponent's breastplate and the jolt of it broke Jalor's focus. The crowd cheered louder as he looked over his shoulder to see that his opponent had fallen off of his horse. At the end of the track, Jalor's horse slowed and he tugged on her reins gently to turn her around. He handed off the end of his lance and pushed up the visor on his helmet.
In the middle of the track, his opponent was in his feet. He pulled off his helmet as Jalor's horse walked closer.
The young man shook his head. "Don't say a thing."
"That's ten more points, Grenn." Jalor slid from his saddle and held out his hand. "Uncle warned you."
Grenn laughed as he took Jalor's hand. "All right, so he did."
Jalor smiled. "So, how many of your cavalry men just watched your little cousin beat you in a joust?"
"Far too many, I'm afraid." Grenn tucked his helmet under his arm and waved at the crowd, grinning. "I expect you'll be after my job, next."
Jalor followed his cousin's lead and waved to the crowd. Together they turned to bow towards the spectator's box. Lord Vasel, their uncle, was clapping along with the crowd. His wife and their two daughters looked just as pleased with the performance. Gallea, the younger daughter, got to her feet and stepped out from under the shade. To the delight of the crowd, she held up the white rose Jalor had presented to her before the competition. When she sat the cheering died down, and her father took her place at the front.
Lord Vasel raised his arms to silence the last few people. Once the stands were quiet, he started speaking in his booming voice. "Well done, Lord Jalor and Sir Grenn. Allowing my sister's son to show off his skills was the perfect way to end the day's festivities. Jalor, you're a man now. In front of the people of Vasel, I wish you luck as you travel to West Draulin. You'll remind them that Vasel is not simply a small farming city as they like to believe!" The crowd broke into cheers again. Compared to West Draulin, most cities were small. Vasel was even smaller, but the people were fiercely proud of their city. There was no hope in quieting them again.
Jalor and Grenn bowed again before leading their horses off of the track. Before they went to their separate tents, Grenn put his hand on Jalor's shoulder. "West Draulin? I didn't realize you had made your decision."
Jalor nodded. "Why try to take your job when I can get a better one?"
Grenn laughed amicably as he turned away. "Good luck, little cousin," he called over his shoulder.
Jalor went to his own tent. A squire rushed to help him take off the heavy armour that protected his chest and shoulders. Once that was taken care of, Jalor dismissed the man and immediately got to work untacking his horse. She stood patiently as he removed her heavy saddle, the chanfron that protected her head and the fancy peytral that shielded her chest. Finally, he took off her purple caparison—the heavy cloth that served both as protection and decoration.
He brushed her quickly, checked on her hooves, and then left her drinking out of a fresh bucket of water. He always made sure to take care of her himself. Jalor wanted to join the cavalry in West Draulin, and he firmly believed that personally caring for his horse strengthened their bond.
While she relaxed, he packed up their jousting gear. Everything neatly went into a chest that would be delivered back to his family's villa. Finally, he changed out of his sweaty tunic and pulled a clean green one over his head. He buckled his sword belt around his waist, because his family insisted he carry it around. Then he picked up the lighter riding saddle and draped it over his horse's back.
"I know, I know. Sorry, Goldie," he murmured as he cinched the girth snugly around her body. "Here, look." He went to a bucket in the corner and pulled out a carrot, which he held out to her. She stretched to take it from him, and chewed contently as he finished getting her ready for the ride home.
Soon, he climbed onto her back and they were off. They rode through the city, keeping to the outlaying streets so they wouldn't get caught up in the festival's crowds. As soon as they hit farmland, Jalor nudged her and she broke into a gallop. It was a wild, joyful run, and Jalor let her go for as long as she wanted. When she got tired, she slowed to a relaxed walk.
There was nothing Jalor loved more than being out in the fields with his horse. The only thing that would brighten his mood was if his hunting bird Fiar was circling overhead. Jalor watched the fields and forests slowly go by. He rode through multiple clusters of farmhouses too small to be considered villages, and around a hill topped with an old creaky windmill.
The windmill marked the edge of his family's land. Every farm between the mill and the villa belonged to his family, and the farmers worked it for them. Jalor always tried to be friendly, but especially when he was in their lands. These people worked hard for his family. He ran into quite a few people as he rode. He said hello to a young woman carrying a bucket of water. He spurred Goldie after a few sheep that had broken away from their farmer, and herded them back to the road. He waved at an old woman who was sitting on her porch. He hopped off of Goldie to help a pair of boys pick up firewood.
West Draulin was going to be a change. He was going to miss the country.
The sun was beginning to sink when he reached the villa. He rode through outer gates that were rarely closed, and straight to the barn. A stable hand offered to take the horse but Jalor dismissed him. Just as he had that afternoon, he took off Goldie's tack himself and repeated the routine of brushing her and checking on her hooves.
He let her out in the horse field, and was back in the barn putting away the saddle and bridle when a girl flung her arms around his neck. "I was told today to start packing your things for your trip to West Draulin! You never told me you were going to West Draulin! How could you? What's wrong with Vasel?"
"Nothing's wrong with Vasel." Jalor was hardly surprised by her reaction. "But if I want to do really well in the cavalry I can't stay here. People may think my uncle is just favouring me. Not to mention Grenn. I don't want to compete against him."
"No one will think that! Everyone knows how talented you are."
"Jousting is different."
The girl buried her face against his neck and started to cry. "But we'll never see each other if you're in West Draulin."
Jalor sighed. "Adry, we always knew this wasn't going to last." That had never been his plan. Adry was pretty and loving and he did care about her, but his parents would have never approved. He had first kissed her a few months ago, the evening of his fifteenth birthday, when he was feeling particularly reckless. Also possibly a little drunk. They'd had their fun, but he had known all along that he would be leaving.
Adry was still crying, but she nodded. "I know, I do. But I thought it would last longer."
"I'm not leaving just yet." Jalor gently wiped away her tears and gave her a quick kiss. "And I'll visit."
"You'll find a pretty girl in West Draulin and you'll forget about me. I know that."
Jalor shook his head. "I'll be far too busy training to meet girls. But you'll forget about me quickly enough when the next boy comes along hoping for your affection."
A slight smile flickered across Adry's lips. "I'll never forget you. And you love Vasel. The farmland, the forests, riding and hunting with your hawk. You won't have that in West Draulin. You'll hate it there."
"I'll have vacations," Jalor said, even though she was right. He probably would hate the confines of the city. But West Draulin had a bigger army, and he was sure he could be successful there. "I'll be important there."
"You're important here."
Jalor took Adry's hand and led her from the stall. "Not that important. Jallen is getting the titles and villa and lands. Unless I achieve something great, I'll become another obscure relative that no one remembers. I don't want that."
"People get forgotten. I'll be forgotten. Lords never get forgotten. You'll be listed in books and records forever. Lord Jalor of Vasel."
"From Vasel."
She shook her head. "There's no difference."
"It's a huge difference," Jalor corrected, but he knew she would never understand. "And besides, you won't be forgotten. I'll always remember you." They stopped walking in the shadows behind the barn, where nobody could see them. "Now, let's enjoy the rest of our time together and stop thinking about the future."
Adry sighed and hugged him tightly. "We can try, I guess. But one day you'll leave and I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you, too," Jalor said. He truly meant it, but he had made up his mind. Nothing and nobody was going to stand in his way. He was going to West Draulin.