The last winged hussar now live

Allegedly the kindle is available as well as the paperback but it's only showing the paperback ... meh, they should link automatically

Dance of Sabres 1

This is a bit of a spy story. Wladyslaw Sokolowski [it isn't letting me put in dark l for the blurb] has been playing a dangerous game in trying to uncover the plans of a traitor in the pay of Katarzyna of Russia. Joanna Krasinskowna, keen to atone for her foolishness, joins him as his page, and finds she enjoys The Great Game ... but there are troubles ahead with a very cruel and ruthless adversary who is not averse to using any and all means to find out what his enemy knows.
warning; Sokolowski is in for a bad time of things around chapters 10-13.

Chapter 1

“Mama, Papa, may I be a page like Filka, please?”  asked Joanna.

Lord Mikołaj exchanged a look with his wife.

“Gosia, it is up to you,” he said to his lady. “Filka had every good reason to feel a need for martial training; and used it to escape from Świnka. Joasia has every expectation of being protected ... yet times are uncertain.”

“I understand you wished you had been a boy,” said Lady Małgorzata. “I ... well, I have asked if Irene and Wojciech will come back and help give you all some basic training.  Is there a reason you want to be a page?”

Joanna hung her head.

“I feel responsible for Lord Sokółowski’s wound,” she said. 

“Why?” asked her father, bluntly.

“Because if I had not let Filka fool me into thinking she was an Austrian prince, most of which came out of my own foolish head when she was hiding her identity, Świnka would not have abducted her. I don’t feel responsible for my brother-in-law dying, because he could have grappled with the coachman sent to watch him and help him grab Filka.  And because Milena believed me when I said the boy, Jacenty, was really named Freidrich Hapsburg. And it was clever of Filka to cover Sewek’s slip starting to say her real name, and I spoilt it all.” She sniffed hard. “And Sewek and Filka have been so good to me and forgiving, and that poor man had to take Świnka to Austria and got wounded when Świnka was freed.”

“He’d have done something else,” grunted Mikołaj.

“Maybe; but what if he was only tempted by having a prize like an Austrian prince as a hostage?” said Joanna. “I feel responsible,  even if more events were in train. And I have been nursing Lord Sokółowski to the best of my ability while he has been under this roof; but I heard him say to Lord Wojciech that he would never fight with two sabres at once again because he can’t turn his left forearm anymore.”

“He was a noted swordsmen with two weapons,” said Mikołaj. “What, did you want to emulate him, to carry his torch forward on his behalf? It’s high time he married and got a son to do that.”

Joanna flushed.

“How can I be as good as a man who has trained from childhood?  Though ... though I did used to watch and copy the drills,” she said, digging a toe into the carpet.

“Show me,” said Mikołaj, standing, and handing her his sabre.

Joanna swallowed hard and held the sabre still, in front of her, loosening up with the foot drills. Then she went through all she could remember of the sabre drills. She was a little out of breath as she handed her father his sabre.

“Queen of Poland, I had a natural swordsman under my eye for years and never realised it,” whispered Mikołaj. “If you picked that up watching others, it would be a crime not to train you.  And a crime not to ask a pre-eminent swordsman to do it.  And I have to say that Władysław Sokółowski is probably the best swordsman in Poland. And that is even taking Sewek and Wojciech into account. I trained Władysław after his father died, and set him  training my son and Godson, which is one reason they are so good.  The banner of the Falcons pride themselves on swordsmanship. I am glad the personal matters between your brother, his Godbrother and Władysław have been cleared up, the clans have usually been allies.”

“I thought the decision was mine?” asked Małgorzata, amused.

“It would have been if your daughter hadn’t managed to turn into my son,” said Mikołaj. “And if she’s going to go dressed as a boy like our daughter-in-law, or is that ensign-in-law,  having our son in the Sokółowscy household strengthens the alliance. She’s too young to consider a marriage alliance and not to train her would be a crime.”

“As you say, my lord,” said Małgorzata with a smile. “So long as this is what you truly want, Joasia; you’ve seen how Seweryn has run Phyllis quite ragged as Jacenty. He’s carried her back from the hill more than once, poor child.”

“Filka doesn’t give up and nor shall I; she has inspired me,” said Joanna.

“I’ll speak to him,” said Mikołaj. “And you will need a name.”

“Closest is Jan,” said Joanna. “I’m not keen though. “I’ve never been fond of the name ‘Joanna’.”

“You were named for an aunt of mine,” said Małgorzata. “And then she had the bad timing to die not long after you were christened.”

“Why, I can use my confirmation name,” said Joanna, beaming broadly. “Bronisława is the female version of Bronisław after all. And the Blessed Bronisława was a cousin of St. Jacenty, so that ties in with the name Filka took.”

“I greet my son, Bronisław,” said Mikołaj, gravely.

“You’ve been talking to that interfering English daughter-in-law of yours, haven’t you?” said Władysław Sokółowski.

“I take that little girl seriously; she’s no fool,” said Mikołaj.  “And yes, I have, but I also discovered that my daughter, who is at the moment my son, has taught herself the footwork and sabre drills by watching others. I was impressed.”

Władysław looked at him through narrowed eyes for a long minute.

“As I don’t for one moment suppose that you have softening of the brain in your old age, my lord, and as you have always been harder on Seweryn and Wojciech than on anyone else, I trust your judgement. I want to see though.”

“Of course you do.”

Joanna was nervous about being put through her paces in front of a man her father called the best swordsman in Poland.

Władysław watched without comment.

“Assume that your right arm is injured; put it behind your back and repeat the exercises with your left,” he said.

Joanna saw her father’s eyebrows raise slightly.

She did as she was told, a little awkwardly at first, but swiftly translating the movements.

“A mistake or two but only to be expected,” said Władysław. “I’ll teach the ... boy. If you work hard, young Bronek you might even have the makings of a swordsman.”

“Thank you, my lord,” faltered Joanna.

Władysław turned to Mikołaj.

“I will, at some point, travel south to see Wojciech,” he said. “He has uncovered a half-brother of mine. Your whelp has filled me with ambition to pass my skills on rather than whine about the loss of some use of an arm. You’ll want to cut her hair and dress her suitably.”

“Yes, she can use some of Seweryn’s old clothes which he grew out of,” said Mikołaj. “The ones which were too big for Phyllis.”

Joanna smiled ruefully. The English girl was tiny, especially seen next to Joanna’s tall and splendid brother.

Lord Władysław, her lord, she reflected he was now, was also tall, but slender; he did not look intimidating, or even muscular, though she knew from tending the sabre slash which had severed a tendon and chipped the bone of his left arm that he had muscles like whipcord under his customarily black clothing. But for those whipcord muscles he would be skinny; and his long ascetic face with its prominent nose reminded him of the falcon his family was named for. He was clean-shaven and his head was also shaved to a short fuzz all over. Władysław saw her looking a little doubtfully at his hair when considering how short he wanted her hair cut, and with a lightning fast move, like a viper striking, his right hand shot out to grab one of her long blonde plaits and pull her towards him. Joanna gave a little squeak, and kicked.

He laughed.

“And that is why you don’t have long hair, Bronek; it can be used against you. Seweryn’s is too fine to get a good hold on, which is his protection. Long moustaches the same. Moreover I spend time at court in one of the ridiculous wigs so beloved of the west, and uncomfortable clothing and a twig for a sword. I’ll teach you to fight with a twig as well, but I won’t make you go to court.”

“Is it true that you spy?” blurted out Joanna.

“Now who told you that?”

“Filka; she said you had that sort of air about you.”

“Ah, embassy brat, of course,” said Władysław. “And why is that important?”

“My plaits would match my hair if you needed me to be a girl,” said Joanna. “If I kept them.”

He elevated one arched eyebrow.

“Are you actually volunteering for that sordid business?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes,” said Joanna. “I could help.  Women talk a lot about things you know. Milena is always full of stories about people in the city and at court, and what she’s heard, and some of what she says sounds as though she hasn’t thought it through ... which is why I was more of a fool to pass nonsense to her,” she blushed. “Do you know what I did?”

“Yes; your father was completely honest with me,” said Władysław. “He thinks you have learned discretion. You will understand if I reserve judgement on that.”

“Of course, my lord.  I did learn a lot though, and a lot of it was that I want to make amends. I could do that.”

“I’ve cultivated a friendship with the Topór banner to learn about them.  If I introduce any of them to you, you can’t go falling in love and talking to them to warn them,” he said. “If you feel someone is, or could be persuaded to be, loyal to the crown not their family, you will come to me, not talk to them. Is that clear?” He caught her chin to look intently into her eyes with his own piercing ones. They were not brown as she thought they must be, but dark green, amber-flecked.

“I understand, my lord,” she said. “I’m not likely to be falling in love, I am not sure how one does it.”

He laughed a harsh laugh and let her go.

“I’m informed that it happens unbidden; but perhaps, my little fledgeling, you have ice water in your veins as they say I do in mine.”

“I hope so, my lord,” said Joanna.

He laughed again.

“Those who say it are not being complimentary,” he said.

“Oh! It seems admirable to me to be able to make decisions without foolish emotions colouring them,” said Joanna. “I am trying hard not to feel all the stupid jealous things which made me act badly. I  want to be cool and calm and utterly unruled by emotion.”

“Unfortunately for you, you are at an age where emotion rages from all points of the compass, like a tempest trying to tear you apart and when you try to ride the wind, you end up reaping the whirlwind.  Youth is angry and jealous, and woes are more deeply despairing and joys are more elevated and all-consuming. One learns to control such things, but it takes a goodly pinch of time.”

“Maybe shocks work the same as time.”

“Maybe.  You will come to me if you are feeling consumed by anything; I am your lord, I am here for you. I don’t guarantee to understand, for you are, like it or not, female, and females are strange creatures to we males. But I will always listen.”

“Thank you, my lord,” said Joanna. He was a different sort of man to Sewek; but he had a sense of humour, which was at least one thing. “Do you beat your pages?”

“I’ve never had one before.  Probably, if you disobey wilfully. Not for mistakes.” His eyes gleamed at her. “However I will punish sloppy sword work by striking where you should be guarding, which will feel like a beating.”

She nodded.

“I’ve seen Sewek training Filka,” she said. “And I knew I was better than Jacenty, as she was being called, and it made me angrier, because why would my brother train a weak little boy when he could train me. Only I did not ask him, and feigned dislike of such things.” She gave a self-mocking smile. “I cut off my nose to spite my face; but I know now how strong Filka is to take Sewek’s harshest training to make her better.”

He nodded.

“If you know yourself, you are half way towards being a warrior.  If you learn to read and know the enemy as well, you will be invincible. I’ve often thought it’s why Seweryn makes such a good showing; I’m a better swordsman but he understands people better. Learn that from him.”

“What about his friend Wojciech?” asked Joanna.

Władysław laughed.

“Wojciech is a force of nature,” he said. “He ... he places himself firmly into the belief that he is in the right and therefore must prevail.  He’s pretty good at anticipating other people as well,” he added. “He’d probably make a good priest if he wasn’t such a formidable warrior.”

“It’s probably just as well he isn’t leading a crusade,” laughed Joanna.

“I shouldn’t mind pointing him at Russia with simple commands like “Go! Kill! Subdue!” said Władysław. “No, I wrong him. He is intelligent and has his sensitive side. He recognised my half-brother, and promptly took the lad under his wing despite our differences at your age, just because it was right to do so.  He and your brother made my life a bit of a misery at times. Oh, don’t look dismayed; I don’t take such things out on whelps who knew nothing about it. They were perfectly normal brats, and I was the youngest in the family, and knew nothing of being pranked by younger ones. I over-reacted and they over-reacted to me over-reacting.  You’ll recognise that pattern I suspect.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Joanna. “Do you dislike my brother?”

“On the contrary; I like the man the boy grew into very much,” said Władysław. “But if you ever tell him, I will deny it.”