Hired Help

The knock came on her door mere seconds after she finished her morning prayers. Martha had gotten the timing down to an art. “Come in.” Resmi answered automatically, rising from her seat at the foot of her bed.
“Good morning, my lady.” Martha smiled, proffering the tray she was carrying.
“Good morning, Martha. Thank you.” She took the mug of tea and sipped as Martha swept the tray under her arm smartly, “How is the day's schedule?”
“Well miss there's a representative from a local fortress to speak with you.”
“Another local lord worried we're going to take away his absolute and self-serving rule over an unlucky few?” Resmi set down the mug on her bedside table and removed her nightdress.
“I'm afraid so, miss.” Martha bustled to help Resmi with her clothing. Martha didn't do much without bustling.
“And how many bodyguards has this one brought?”
“Four, miss.”
“Oh good. They're scared.” Resmi was never quite sure what to do with her arms as Martha fastened buttons and straightened various things about her person. As Martha stepped back she admired her reflection in the looking glass. She had wanted a practical outfit for everyday use, and various parties had thought it should either be grand and elegant or armoured and combat-ready. She thought it was a nice compromise. The breeches were practical and mobile, the shirt was elegant, and the waistcoat was a masterwork – the azure garment was covered in intricate golden designs, and was also reinforced so that it was practically a breastplate. Her reflection looked grand and proud for all of a moment before Martha set about brushing her hair. “Anything else to be seen to?”
“I'm told we're expecting some respondents to the call for a squire.”
“Oh good. As much as I enjoy your company, Martha, I feel awful having you attend to all my needs on top of your other duties.”
“Oh it's no trouble, miss.” Martha pulled a particularly tough knot from Resmi's hair, “It keeps the other servants in line when they know I've got a line straight to your ear.”
Resmi smiled, “I'm sure.” Martha stepped back, took Resmi's cloak from its place on the hook and draped it over her shoulders.
“There we are. All ready for the day.” Martha stepped back from fastening the cloak and put her hands on her hips, admiring a job well done.
“Thank you, Martha.”
“No trouble, miss.” Martha curtsied briefly and left Resmi to her devices.
Still before the mirror, Resmi drained her mug and set it down before turning to leave with a swish of her cloak. She rather liked the effect.

Hagart gave the appearance of being quite small, though he might have been tall. It looked like he was used to stooping so he would fit in a shadow.
Resmi took her seat facing the door, where all four of Hagart's bodyguards were lined up. As per her usual orders, none of her own guards were in the room or posted outside.
“What can we do for you, Mr Hagart?” She reclined in the chair, holding her staff planted as usual on the ground beside it.
“Um, well- sorry, Miss Val'Rance, but is it necessary for you to be armed?”
“Armed? Oh, no, these are mere symbols of office.” She patted the sheathe on her belt, “The sword symbolises my position as the acting authority of Starhold, while my staff signifies my position as a cleric and a paladin. Nothing to worry about, I assure you.” Resmi gave an assuring smile.
“Um, okay, well, I was hoping we could discuss your, um, intentions. My master, Lord Balon, he's noticed that your borders are rather close to the villages he rules and wanted to know if you plan to expand further.”
“Oh, certainly.”
“Oh.” Hagart had clearly been expecting that confession to take longer, and gave the impression of a player piano going over a tear in the paper. He looked to his bodyguards for help, and they dutifully pretended not to notice, “And what of his Lordship?”
“That rather depends on him. If he can convince m- us that his rule has been benevolent and prosperous, we shall allow him to continue governing the area on our behalf.”
“Oh dear.” Hagart rubbed his hands together with nerves, “And if not?”
“Well then it all depends on how much he fights. If he is not fit to govern beneath us and he is a smart man, what he would do is take from the coffers as much as a horse can carry and flee until he hits water. If he is not smart, I'm afraid we'll probably end up having to kill him.” The bodyguards bristled, and it was at this point that Resmi first seemed to notice them, “Oh, and you too if you don't have sense enough to abandon him, unfortunately.”
“I see.” Hagart was staring at the table as if it was the only stationary object in a spinning room.
“Of course, I hope it doesn't come to that. Killing people is such a dreadful waste. So tell me, Mr Hagart, which course do you think is the one his lordship will drive us down?”
Hagart wrung his hands for a while, then finally shot his eyes up to Resmi, “Um, I think he'll probably make you kill him, Miss Val'Rance.”
Resmi sighed. “Such a shame. And how many men does his lordship have?”
“Including these ones, Miss Val'Rance?” Resmi nodded slightly, “About twenty.”
“I see. And how many mechanical dragons?”
“Pardon?”
“It's a simple question, Mr Hagart, how many mechanical dragons are among Lord Balon's ranks?”
“Um, none, Miss Val'Rance.” Hagart was glancing around, as if looking for the fastest exit.
“Oh dear. Well, that's no good for him.” Resmi stood, “You seem like an honest man, Mr Hagart. If you like your boss, encourage him in any way you can to run. If you don't, simply let him know we'll be at his door soon enough. If you, Mr Hagart, need anything, do feel free to ask one of my staff before you leave. And all of you, do remember, abandoning his lordship is always an option. Good day.”
“Good day, Miss Val'Rance.” He quavered as she strode out of the room. As her footsteps receded, he heaved a sigh and let his head fall to the table.

Resmi stepped out into the sunlight of the courtyard to find a group assembled in a loose hodge-podge around the fountain, “I take it you would be the applicants for the position of my squire?”
“Aye, my lady!” The halfling snapped to attention and saluted Resmi as she approached. He was wearing rough leather armour and had the beginnings of a beard on his chin.
“I like the enthusiasm. What is your name, good fellow?” Resmi smiled slightly.
“Jont Honeydew, my lady.” He bowed deeply, “An honour and a pleasure to stand before you.”
The rest of the throng appeared to see this as the cue to introduce themselves, so as not to let the halfling take the advantage. A grippli slipped to the front of the group.
“Billory Shanucka, my lady.” He doffed a feathered cap as he bowed, “I eagerly await the chance to serve you.”
“Elaine Marsters, my lady,” A blonde human in fine clothes probably older than Resmi curtsied, “It is an honour. My parents send their regards.”
“Thank you.” Resmi said automatically, presuming them to be nobility.
The armoured girl who stepped forward next looked with mild disgust at Elaine before she turned her attention to Resmi, “Mina Smith, miss.” She bowed, scowling privately at Elaine, “My old dad sends his regards as well.”
“Thank you.” Resmi answered in the same level tone. “You may rise.” She added after Mina stayed bowed, at which point she straightened up and stepped heavily back into the crowd.
“I am Senjin Mistwalker, my platinum lady” Resmi made a conscious effort not to be surprised by the voice speaking in draconic from knee-height beside her. The green and yellow lizardman had apparently come from nowhere, “It would be my honour to lend you my bow, my hands, and my body.” He took her by the hand and pressed it to his reptillian not-lips, before quickly rising and stepping back as he bowed.
Resmi stared in bemusement for a few seconds, “Yes, thank you. Well, if you'd like to form an orderly line, you can tell me why you're suitable for the position.” What followed was fairly transparently the efforts of all of the applicants through various means to place themselves at the front of the line. After a few moments of shuffling Resmi cleared her throat and struck her staff against the ground, and the line fell in. “Miss Smith. In your own time.” Resmi held her staff sideways at waist height and smiled gently.
“Well, miss, there's nobody miles around knows half what I do about armour, miss. Got a knack for it, miss.” The girl removed her helmet and tucked it under her arm, revealing cropped copper hair, “Gotta know about armour, does a squire, my dad says.” Apparently involuntarily, she wiped her nose with her sleeve.
“I see. And was it your father that told you to come apply?” Resmi spoke quietly.
“Yes, miss. Says I can make a good living for myself, and that a lass like me oughtn't be wasting her time in a dirty old forge.” Mina answered diligently.
“Anything else you'd like to add, Miss Smith?”
“No miss.” Mina shook her head, then saluted a little uncertainly.
“Thank you, Miss Smith.” Resmi took a slow step down the line, “Mr Shanucka?”
The grippli cleared his throat, an act which took three distinct neck movements and sounded like a rubber pipe being snapped, “I'm the best sword of my village, my lady. When we heard word you wished for a squire, it would decided that I of the village ought to try my hand.”
“Any other talents?”
“I'm quite the survivalist, my lady. There are few as comfortable as I in a forest at night.” He seemed satisfied, then hastened to add, “And I can play the banjo.”
“Thank you, Mr Shanucka.” She moved on, “Miss Marsters?”
“Well, my lady, I've the advantage of an extensive education on a range of subjects, and I've quite a mind for arithmetic and management...” She began to trail as she got glances from the other applicants. Mina was shaking her head, “And I can fence, of course.”
“Fence, you say?” Resmi stroked her chin, “That would be when two people fight with blunted swords for sport, yes?”
“Well, yes...” Elaine got quite quiet, “They do still rather hurt...”
“Miss Marsters, have you ever fought someone who was trying to kill you?” Resmi probed softly.
“Not as such...”
“If Mr Shanucka were to turn to you and draw his blade, would you be ready to fend him off?” Billory smirked slightly.
“I don't know, my lady, but I would try.”
“Good.” Resmi nodded, “Thank you, Miss Marsters.” As Resmi moved on, each cell in Elaine's body sighed in relief, “Mr Honeydew, if you please?”
Jont stood at attention again and saluted, “Not to brag, my lady, but I'm a fine hand in a fight and I know my way around things, my lady. I can saddle a horse, bandage a wound, pick a lock, anything you might need, my lady.” He leant forward and flashed a grin at Billory, “And I can play the flute.”
“Impressive, Mr Honeydew.” As Resmi was about to advance, the attention of the group was caught by the sound of hooves on the stone bridge.
For want of better words, a knight in shining armour rode on a white charger into the courtyard. He cantered around behind Resmi and dismounted, revealing himself to be of heroic proportions, in certain excess of six feet tall. In a single movement, he fell to one knee before Resmi and pulled a shining greatsword from its sheathe on his back. As he came down the blade span in one hand, catching the sunlight and gleaming as he brought it down to bury the tip a good half a foot in the dirt before him.
“I am Maelon Rantham, of Brighthollow, Lady Val'Rance, and I wish to pledge my blade to you. I have travelled these hallowed plains for many months following my training in the sword and in the ways of the knight errant. I have yet to meet a man who can best me in single combat, and I've defeated beasts and fell warriors of all kinds. As well I am experienced in living on the trail and dealing with the unpredictable turns that this land will throw at a travelling man.”
Elaine whispered loud enough for the other applicants to hear “Yes, but can he join our band?”
The armoured man looked up at Resmi, then around at the applicants, and continued in a voice of genuine curiosity, “I trust the squire applications are still open?”
Resmi boggled for a moment, then brought herself forcibly to her senses, “Um, yes, yes they are. But tell me, Mr Rantham, what a man of such experience and skill is doing seeking the lowly position of a squire.”
The man stood up, unfolding to his full height. “Because I am told, Lady Val'Rance, that you and your fellows here at Starhold care nothing for how a man is born.” The orc removed his helmet.