The Slave Knight Part 1: The Dagon

Chapter Fourteen: The Night Mares of New Britain

The warbands walked along the last stretch of the marshes of the Meri. The marshes would soon be far behind them and the memory of the merz even further. There would be no memory of Sir Jezebel. Sure, Sir Janice would remember her near death experience. The way Sir Jezebel staggered back after someone surely had stabbed her in the neck. How her ascension was based on a lie that no would truly acknowledge or justify.

When Sir Jezebel was burned to ash, no one acknowledged the gash in her neck. The gash that Sir Janice could not have created, the gash that saved all that she was and what she would ever be, the gash that created a lie that the Wenches would have to abide. Sir Janice would remember all those things, but Sir Jezebel would be remembered naught, and none would sing her honors or glories forevermore. She thought of these things that no one would remember, long and deep, yet spoke little of it, not even to Sir Jabberjaw, who never even thought to bring it up. Who never asked or was concerned about it. It was just merely forgotten and ignored and Sir Janice moved on toward her new title.

The transition into battle commander was quick and confusing. It was not just leading battle, it was leading in many ways. Leading in disputes, leading in monetary distribution, leading in roles, leading in so many areas. Both the maximum and the mundane. Further, there were more things that Sir Janice had to change, not just her name. She could not hold resentments against Sir Jezreel's old contingent, she could not favor those who may have silently supported her, she could not be indifferent to the qualms and questions of the Wenches. She had to be involved and intervene at every turn.

Which meant less time with Sir Jabberjaw or just dicking about. Oddly enough he respected that and did not show the least bit of concern or worry where he stood. She had her duties, she had her obligations, and she had her responsibilities, more than ever now, and favoring him would be stupid and would work against her decision to be battle commander. Battle commander took precedence over everything and Sir Jabberjaw knew it right and knew it well.

Battle commanders could live long and endearing lives by doing right by their warband, but if they thought it best to shirk their responsibilities it could lead to more fights, more death, maybe even a knife in the dark. Battle commanders kept the balance of the warband in their hands and they could surely make or break a warband. That is where Sir Janice's life was geared and that is what she would be for the remainder of her days.

"Name? Have you thought of one?" Sir Jabberjaw asked during one of their brief walks that they were able to indulge in.

"Name, yes Sir Janice is my own and that is the one I think of at all times." She laughed to herself at that, and gave no further response.

"Seriously now! Name changes like this are very powerful and very serious. They should be taken as such."

"And I do Jabs, very much so. Aye?"

"Aye, and I will surely let you know when the time is appropriate."

"When will it be appropriate?"

She did not answer, just smiled and laughed and stared at Sir Jabberjaw fondly. She knew her name and what it would be. It would be a strong and wondrous name. It would be a name to remember and a name to be admired, as she would make it so with all she would do. It would be her own. Battle commanders were graced with the chance of choosing their own name. Which was akin to choosing their own destiny and choosing their own future. They could be who they wanted (within reason, of course), and that was much more than most slave knights could do.

The warbands journey finally brought them to the border to Newbrit. The marshes were long behind them and Sir Wallace called for a halt. The merz were even further behind, and all sought to rest and regain the strength they had lost of the arduous days of walking and fighting. Meister Kevin also thought it best to begin preparations for the naming ceremony. The preparations were meager, as they only had their food and drink to set up, and set up they did.