Chapter 3- Knight Jasson
As the gods would have it, the two did not get to spend any real time together until the evening before Jasson had to prepare to go into the Chamber. It was the second night of Midwinter feasting, and Jasson would go to sit vigil the night after the third.
They were both glad to see each other again, but neither could find much to say. Kisses became longer. Holding was tighter. There was no squire or loved one who wasn't worried by the Chamber of Ordeal. Deaths were rare, and usually those squires had streaks of plain badness in them. Still, there were worries. Sometimes the Chamber took a finger or two, though never enough to stop a knight from serving the Crown unless it planned death on that squire.
Sarra had both heard tales of young men going in healthy and coming out with grey hairs looking years older. Some acted differently afterwards- a few went crazy, but those weren't the ones to become knights. Most were just on edge for a while afterwards. Sometimes it seemed that the prospect of the Ordeal kept more young nobles from trying for knighthood than money troubles, bad health, or other reasons combined. Many young men who would join the King's Own and see plenty of fighting, were afraid to go into that small stone room.
Sarra had heard some noblewomen scaring their children, particularly their daughters with stories of the Ordeal to keep them away from knighthood. She was wondering now if anyone had done the same to her without her realizing.
Once every great while, the Chamber gave a new knight a mission. Many squires prayed for this, because it was a sign that a young knight was meant for greatness, but really, it was no less terrifying than anything else the Chamber could do. Many families would rather get back a young man with eight fingers than one with an impossible mission. The last knight rumored to have received such a task was Kelandry of Mindelan, the second lady knight in Tortall in over a hundred years.
The third lady knight of the modern era was a lovely half-Yamini girl named Shinkoquin from Queenscove. She was perhaps not as legendary as the last two lady knights, but she was just as stubborn, and those they hadn't spent much time together, Sarra liked her very much. She was rarely the best at any part of knight training, but never the worst. She was the best of her age at field healing magic, not surprising as her father and grandfather were great healers.
Quin, as Shinkoquin was called, sat beside Sarra waiting for Jasson to exit the Chamber. Sarra's mother was on her other side, and her father next to her mother. It was nice of them to come. Jasson's parents and his sister sat further up.
Sarra was trying nervously not to bite her nails, a habit she had broken years ago. She wanted to look her best for the celebration afterwards.
When Jasson did finally emerge, he looked battered and confused, but largely unharmed. His eyes searched for Sarra, and she felt warm and weak-kneed when their eyes met. How stereotypically true. He gave her a small, tired smile and walked out of the room led by his former knight master. She knew he wouldn't be able to talk about what happened in there with any specifics- there was some unwritten rule about that that every knight followed, but she did wonder if… she was brought up at all.
Jasson was knighted that evening. Afterwards, in silent agreement, both Sarra and Jasson drifted out of the hall, clasping hands before they were even out of sight. They walked back to Jasson's room on the squires' hall, a room that he would be granted the use of until spring.
"It gets cold in my room at night," he said as they walked in and Sarra locked the door behind them. It was the first words either had spoken in some time. Mostly they just held each other very closely."
"I plan on signing up for border patrol," he said when the guilt over needing to say it became too much. He wished he could just follow her around doing whatever he could, but he needed some sort of… something. At least for a while.
But she just nodded, "I'll ask my friends to keep an eye out for you."
"I just need something to do, a path. That's what most of the young knights do." The normal ones like him. His eyes were begging her to understand, but she was taking it very calmly. "Are you… worried for me?" he asked.
"Of course. But no more than always. Are you worried about me?"
"Ha," he laughed jokingly as he stroked her neck and back. "I'm more worried for whatever poor fool tries to harm you. I wouldn't like his prospects for the future. He'd either get torn to bits by you and your animals, or your mother and father would come up with something worse. No one has forgotten that he turned a man into a tree."
"I'm sure they would chase after anyone who hurt after the father of their unborn grandchild as well," she said, eyes dancing in the faint moonlight coming through the window coverings.
It wasn't possible, he knew, but his heart still beat twice as fast, and words seemed impossible, "If there were such a child, I would be the one in danger of growing extra limb and leaves, I'm certain. But… it would be worth it. Sometime."
"I love you," she whispered into his ear.
"I love you too," he said, squeezing her back.
They spent most of the following nights in that fashion.
"Your um- parents haven't noticed that you aren't spending the night there?" Jasson asked. By unspoken agreement they preferred his room in the squires' hall to hers that was adjacent to her parents'. But she did often sleep with her animal friends in the stables, so it was entirely possible that her parents wouldn't notice anything. When Jasson could convince her, she arrived in bird or bat form through his open window, so he hoped the other squires and knights wouldn't notice either. He wouldn't needlessly tarnish her reputation. And the view that he got when she was slipping into one of his night shirts…
"Oh they did," Sarra said easily, as if it weren't important enough to mention until he asked but she didn't care.
"Wha- what did they say?"
"Oh, some insinuations that I was being foolish, not behaving like a proper young lady."
"And… should I be choosing a nice area for a grave… or to put down roots?"
"I told them that I was still a virgin- for the moment, not forever- and that they certainly did not have the moral high ground here, because when my mother was my age, they were more than intimate already, and my father was old- like thirty years old and her teacher. And despite all that, they worked out great."
"And… that conversation isn't going to go poorly for me?"
"Not if they want to stay on good terms with their daughter, no." She was the boldest citizen of Tortall, he was certain. He would have to try to have half of that determination.
"Leave a window open for me?" she asked when the first day of warm weather came and Jasson was to depart for the border.
"I be in a barrack with a dozen or more other knights and squires," Jasson objected.
"And you think they would object to a window open on a fine spring or summer night?" Sarra questioned, eyes shining.
"They might if it was so a naked woman could come in," Jasson laughed.
"Somehow I doubt that would be an objection," Sarra countered teasingly.
"It had better be, or I'd have to teach them something." Not that Sarra wasn't more than capable of looking after herself. And maybe he would try to get a bed near a window.
*****Sarra*****
When Jasson was gone, Sarra still wasn't ready to go back to sleeping in her room quite yet. She was hoping to be called away, but her mother had left before Jasson did, and the king liked to keep one of them in Chorus.
And so, that night, Sarra found herself comfortable in the stables with three blankets and her friends among the People, as her mother had taught her to call animals long ago, settling around her.
"Sorry I haven't been out here much," she told them. They all understood in their own way.
"We know that whenever your mate is here, you must spend time with him," a sly young castle hound said.
"It's not like that. We haven't even-" but that wouldn't really make sense to her friends. From their perspective, she was many seasons past grown.
"Yes, when will you have your first litter?" an old stable cat asked. Sarra regretted that those of the People who knew her best understood blushing.
*****Knight Jasson*****
After leaving Chorus, Jasson spent days on the road towards his assigned piece of the border between Tortall and Tyra with only his horse, Thunder. It wasn't the most noble name, maybe, or feminine but he had named the horse when he was nine and the mare was still only a yearling.
He had been to this border before, in his first year of being a squire. The area was usually quiet, because the countries were at peace, but the swampy terrain sometimes held undesirable threats, bandits not welcome in either country. And there were always some raiders who thought it was more noble to go steal from another country rather than staying in their own. Sometimes they had to stop Tortallan-born threats to peace and safety as well at Tyran. It helped political relations and was the right thing to do.
The days crept by without much excitement to fill them, wondering what Sarra was doing without him. Jasson knew that it was wrong to wish for a battle, because people would be injured and lives could be lost. But this watching and waiting and seeing nothing but trees as muddy grass for days was maddening. It hadn't been so bad before when there was so much else for him to learn from his knight master- but the other young knights rarely even wanted to joust or spar, wrestle, anything to pass the time as a distraction.
It made him wish for simpler times with no responsibility- when exploring woods everyday would have just been an adventure. Like the day he met Sarra and all of their early days together.
Jasson's party outfit was the most uncomfortable thing he had ever worn. It had been too large at his last birthday and was too small now. Too small was much worse. And this wasn't even his party. It was the party of a five-year-old, far too young to be noticed by Jasson at the civilized age of seven. Barely seven, but still. Jasson's own five-year-old sister sat at his right, and Lata was probably why they had both been invited. His parents had said that she had wonderful, interesting parents, and she was sure to be a lovely girl, which meant he had to be extra nice to her and pretend to be interested, even though she was just a little girl.
They also said that he wasn't supposed to stare or be rude if she behaved oddly, and that actually sounded interesting.
When he met her, the girl-Sarra- seemed pretty normal. He watched her as they waited for their dinner to arrive. He was big for her age, a lot bigger than Lata even though Lata was a little older, and she would not sit still. She kicked her legs or played with the ribbons in her hair. She looked even more uncomfortable than Jasson felt. But then, girl clothes did look a lot more uncomfortable than boy clothes, even his, so she probably had an excuse.
He and about a dozen other children were told to play outside, noble and non-noble children, Jasson knew.
The birthday girl, however, seemed to forget about her guest and walked over to a squirrel. You couldn't expect a little girl to be a good host, Jasson supposed. But the squirrel was weird- it didn't run away even when she walked right up to it. He watched closely as she began to talk to the squirrel. Of course, little children could do stuff like that and think the animal could actually understand. Of course, he did talk to his pony, but that was different.
Jasson was startled when a huge black dog bounded over right towards Sarra. It was probably going after the squirrel, but it might hurt the girl. A dog had bitten him when he was that age, and that one hadn't been nearly as big. What could he do? Jasson screamed.
But that didn't do anything except get all the other children to look at him. The girl was fine. She didn't need rescuing. In fact, it looked like the dog had come to see her, not go after the squirrel.
The little rodent hid behind Sarra, but it didn't run away. That was really strange.
But that was only the start. The girl thanked the dog for coming so quickly. As if she had called it, but she hadn't said anything. And then, Sarra put the squirrel on the dog's back! She pointed towards the trees and said something Jasson couldn't quite understand, but the dog seemed to, and it took off running, squirrel hanging on.
Most of the other children weren't paying attention. Maybe they were used to the strange child. But one other little girl in a plain dress who looked about Sarra's age had been watching too, and she looked disgusted.
It was probably that that made Jasson walk up to Sarra.
"You're special with animals, aren't you?" he asked. "Dogs don't just do that."
"Dragon does. He's used to me. And he get all the food he wants anyway, so he'd never hurt a squirrel."
"So they do this a lot around you? Animals act like that?" She was definitely more interesting than his little sister.
"Mother calls them the People. And I listen to them too," the girl stated. "Dragon wanted to help. The squirrel wanted to know where to get this certain root, and I couldn't go because Ma says I have to stay with my guests," she explained.
Sarra was happy with his interest, he could tell, because she introduced him to lots of other animals, though no more big dogs, to Jasson's relief, though he told himself that he was being silly.
After that day, Jasson was invited to play at Sarra's house- or whatever they called it- it had a giant tower- a lot. Jasson's sister was usually invited too, but mostly just for the courtesy. She just played with the cats. And then of course, each time his family had to return the invitation. These times were never boring though, and Sarra and Jasson soon became great friends, sneaking off to see each other whenever they could until it became a nearly every day thing. Their parents didn't seem to mind, so long as chores were done- because neither came from the sort of noble household where children didn't have chores-and too many meals weren't missed. Sarra said that her mother probably had all the forest looking after them anyway, so it wasn't like they were even alone.
Sarra would have made these border patrols fun too.
It was worse when the mild spring days turned into scorching summer ones.
And then there was the worst day of Jasson's young life.
In these peaceful times, they patrolled in pairs. Jasson usually went with Natan, his closest acquaintance of the young knights. Maybe they were even friends. Natan hated jousting, but he was the only one who would wrestle, and he was a decent swordsman.
That day, something felt off, and Jasson was wishing that Sarra was next to him to tell him that everything was fine, or to tell him what was wrong. When steady, calm Thunder started to fidget, he knew what it was. There were no birds chattering to each other, no leaves rustling. All of the animal sounds were missing. All of them. Animals didn't even do that for great human battles. But immortals were a different story.
Jasson fumbled in the light packs on Thunder's saddle for the horn they were to blow when immortals were present. He felt certain enough to blow it now. And maybe it wouldn't be too late. Or maybe it would scare whatever it was off. Or call it over…
"What are you doing!?" Natan shouted above the horn.
"Back to the camp," he shouted, kneeing his mare to go faster. "Come on!" Jasson shouted.
Out of the trees, out of the trees, Jasson mentally chanted to himself. The wooded area was necessary to patrol for bandits, but many species of immortals were disadvantaged on open ground. The closer they could get to camp, the more likely help could reach them. Especially if a group of them already had horses saddled… he hoped.
Jasson was perhaps fifty yards from the tree line when the spidren emerged, but Natan was lagging back. He hadn't reacted quickly to Jasson's warning. They were hideous, Jasson's least favorite of the immortals he had encountered before- and that was two spidren against twelve knights and squires. They were at least five feet long with their furry spider bodies. Their heads were human enough, but he had never seen a spidren face that wasn't ugly. But maybe it was just all of the hatred written in them, and the mouth full of sharp, pointed teeth. And they were fast.
And three didn't travel on their own, so these were probably scouts for more of them somewhere. But these were moving oddly, he could tell when they broke out of the tree line, far too close to Natan, but he would make it. His horse was good, and he just had to stay out of range of their webs.
A return call sounded in the distance. Reinforcements were coming for them, and with more people, they would be able to turn and fight.
Until he saw why they were moving strangely. Men were riding on their backs.
Spidren and humans working together that closely- had that ever happened before?
Some immortals planned attacks, worked in precise formations. Spidrens more often fought amongst themselves or were overcome by bloodlust because nothing tasted better to a spidren than terrified human. They would eat any meat though. Unlike other immortals who rarely gave birth, spidren had multiple young each year. However, the spidren population never grew out of control because mothers often ate all of their young.
Any alliance between spidren and humans meant trouble for Tortall, and it was probably more than just these three.
The humans were a danger to Natan that he might not have seen. Could they stop and fight now and hold off until the outer patrol arrived?
Jasson stopped having a choice when he heard Natan's pained scream.
Gripping his lance, he swung Thunder around. If the mare hadn't spent so much time with Sarra, he wondered if a normal horse would have even listened. But they had been through everything, and even though Jasson in full armor was big for her now, he wouldn't have traded her for any horse as long as Thunder thought she could manage. And she was as good as another warrior in combat, not fleeing even from the terrible spidren.
It was then that Jasson saw that one of the riders, who looked like no more than a child, wielded a bow, and an arrow had struck Natan, who was struggling to keep up the lance he hated.
But he would be fine when the healers came. If there was a healer with the advanced group.
They just had to hold on.
Their attackers were nothing but children- on nearly immortal monsters. But how much older were Jasson and Natan really? Three years perhaps? And those boys were hardened fighters. If Jasson had been a little more hesitant, the boy's first blow, a strike with a long sword to Jasson's neck, would have ended his battle quickly. Instead he met the boy's sword with his own, brought up his second, lighter blade and lopped the boy's sword hand off. There were no nice battles. He had learned that technique from a Bazhir during his time as a page. Knighthood was changing as the world around them did. But he never focused on moves to take out an enemy's horse, and he had never heard any guidance on attacking a mounted spidren. He lashed at the thing wildly, catching a limb.
It was worse when the spidren decided that a wounded rider wasn't worth carrying and threw the boy away, allowing the immortal full movement. And then the second spidren was upon them, on Thunder's right flank. He spun around to see splashed of blood and two thick crossbows impaled in the beast. He couldn't see that thing's rider if it still had one. But the reinforcements were there and they were still alive.
"I did not like playing donkey for the child anyway," the spidren said. He wouldn't sure how they could be understandable through those teeth. "But you are much more interesting.
Thunder chose this moment to act for herself. She bit into one of the beast's feet- or hands- or whatever they were, and brought it closer. That was good. The most dangerous part was its burning, rope-like webbing from its lower half. It was reaching around for weapons that it hadn't held while it carried a rider.
Jasson lopped violently. Three legs gone but there were so many, and the thing had gotten out an axe that it protected its neck with.
Just two legs that it wasn't standing on and he could go for the neck.
But the thing had other ideas. From somewhere it procured a second axe, and before Jasson could do anything, it had jammed it into Jasson's thigh where he only wore soft leather leg guards, the highest the thing could reach in its injured state.
His place on top of Thunder had seemed unstable before, but now he was barely conscious. He was afraid to look down to see if his leg was still… attached.
He thought he was dead until he saw the spidren's head slip from its shoulders, one of the older soldiers from the barracks behind it.
Thunder might have reared or fallen with him still on her, but he couldn't gather enough consciousness to care. If he woke up, it was going to hurt.
Jasson awoke in a white bed in a grey stone room with a healer next to him. The initial relief at finding he was still alive and still had two legs was dampened by learning that with the extent of the damage, he was unlikely to recover completely. Even with the best healers.
When he asked about Thunder, the news was far worse. The spidren had thrashed against her, trying to free itself, but she had not allowed it, holding on until the beast was killed, even if the damage from repeated bashing to her skull killed her just minutes afterwards. Her back flank had damage that Jasson hadn't even known about, from the second spidren. The healer seemed to think he would want to know how brave his mount was, but Jasson wished only for unconsciousness again, and said or did nothing until he got it.
It was sometime in the next hazy days that he learned that Natan did not survive the attack. His family, the Lord and Lady of the nearest estate, had offered Natan's warhorse, Shadow, to Jasson if he wanted, not wanting to see the horse that reminded them of their son. The healer told Jasson all of this like it was good news. Jasson accepted anyway.
Shadow was a good horse, gentle for a stallion, and though Jasson kept Thunder away from all of the stallions when they weren't working, they had gotten along well.
There was ongoing investigation into the alliance between humans and spidrens, whether the attack came from Tyran, or somewhere else. There were two other attacks that day, but no others with real losses. Other patrols had been larger or had more warning, the credit for this being given to Jasson, not that he wanted it.
Within a week, he was told that he could go home the next day, if he and a guard went slowly and he wore a special brace and padded saddle. His family had been informed that he was coming. He wondered if Sarra knew too, but he hadn't asked.
For the brief periods that he had been both awake and allowed to move- calling it walking was a generosity- visiting Shadow was the only thing that helped. They were both grieving the loss of an old friend and a new one. The first time he was carried there by men who said the horse wasn't eating and perhaps he could help. By the end of the week, he could hobble there with a walking stick and his brace.
Finally he was allowed home. He was to see healers regularly to help his body mend, paid for by the crown, but he could be treated well enough at home, and it was closer to Chorus if he needed more attention. He had a different brace for the long journey, one that covered from waist down and onto his left leg. He could take it off when not riding- with some difficulty. And he needed help to mount and dismount Shadow, which he did not enjoy. He would send the thing back with the guard when he got home. Home. From his brief and unpromising expedition as a knight. Permanently injured in his first real skirmish.
And the trip home was much slower than it should have been, and camping at night was such trouble that he almost wished he just keep on despite the discomfort of a long day.
The day before he was to arrive home, a bird with a message tied to its leg found him.
So Sarra knew he was coming back even though he hadn't been able to tell her- probably his sister's doing. The note read, "I will see you tomorrow, and I am only sorry that it is not sooner. Love you. Sarra."
Midmorning the next day, he was met by a falcon. Jasson knew who it was even before she turned into a smaller bird to land on his hand, and then into a cat, which was much easier to hold closely than a bird.
Jasson held the cat closely and kissed the top of her head between her ears.
He actually laughed at the bewildered look on his guard's face. The man was quiet and not much for conversation, which had suited Jasson's mood well enough. It had been a while since Jasson had laughed.
He kissed her little cat mouth and nose, because she was Sarra, however she looked.
"Shadow, this is Sarra, my… the woman I've wanted to marry since I was around eight years old, I believe- whatever you'd call that. You'll like her," he introduced. Sarra was licking his hand and his arm as he handled the reins with the other hand, not that Shadow seemed to need much direction on the easy road. "Sarra, this is Shadow. He belonged to a new friend who could have been a good one."
When Jasson arrived home, his family was waiting from him. He didn't like needing a guard's help to get off of his horse, to look so infirm around his family.
His father said he was proud of Jasson. His mother cried a lot and said she was glad he was home. His sister hugged him tightly too. But from his sister's raised eyebrows and grin in Shadow's direction, he was pretty sure Lata had noticed the cat who sat on his new horse and knew that the cat was more than it looked. It made Jasson realize that his little sister had grown up without him around.
When Jasson's mother finally tore herself away to check on the noon meal, and took Lata with her, Jasson led Shadow (and Sarra still seated on Shadow) over to the stable.
It hurt to lead Shadow to the stall that Thunder used when they were home, but he thought it would hurt longer to leave it empty.
Before he could even start to tend to Shadow, Lata ran back in, grasping a dress, throwing it over the cat on Shadow's saddle.
"Shall I tell mother to expect another for dinner, or will you two be too busy?" she challenged.
She was definitely grown up. Jasson might have still been gaping when Sarra's arms wrapped around him from behind.
"Thank you, Lata," she said. "I wouldn't keep Jasson from his family, but I would love to join you."
"I'll just give you some time alone then. Perhaps entertain the nice young man who came with you," Lata said before dashing out that door. What? The guard who came with him had to be at least twenty-two, and he barely knew the man's name- Arlend, he thought.
Jasson turned back to see Sarra tending to Shadow. She must have figured it out.
"Thunder-" he started to say. He felt his eyes moisten already.
"I know," she said. "That is the worst feeling."
"I should have gotten a new mount before going," he said, voicing the worst thoughts that haunted him. "She wasn't up to carrying a knight in full armor."
"No, none of that," Sarra told him soothingly. "She did as well as any horse could. Better, probably, because she loved you so much. It would have destroyed her for you to leave her behind."
Jasson nodded, wiping tears away and willing them not to return. He had done too much crying.
"I can't do anything for myself, barely even get out of bed, and I can't stand seeing another bed pot in my life. I feel like an infant. Or a… a fresh gelding," he said, looking anywhere but Sarra.
"There are hundreds of herds full of very happy geldings that I have met, but you are not one," Sarra informed him.
She touched Shadow, and Jasson knew she was talking with the horse before Shadow walked around them, nudged the stable door closed, and settled down in front of it. That was… more privacy than Jasson had been expecting. Sarra ran hands up and down his body, carefully around his injury. He tried not to think too much of her inspection until she kissed him. She knew exactly how to make him not feel like a gelding.
"Couldn't bring my pendant with me, sorry," she cooed in his ear. That got his attention. "But I have a lot of plans for you in the next months while you recover.
"Oh really?" he asked.
"Yes, the way I see it, you will need to spend most of your time in bed… with your beautiful new wife. How does that sound?" she asked, seriously asking.
"Like the best time in the world and like everything I have ever wanted," he said and leaned down slightly for another kiss.
Since she had essentially asked him this time, did he still have to ask her parents for her hand again? It seemed cruel to make a man face that pair again.
A/N: Finally done! I still cannot believe how long it took me to get this typed up. Without telling myself that I could count the words for Nanowrimo, since I had been putting it off for so long, I'm not sure if it would have ever been done. Please do review if you liked it though! It means the world to me to hear that I wasn't just wasting my time.
I always thought that Sarra would be a good character for Tamora Pierce to write about, but apparently in the future she plans to do at least one book from Rikash's perspective (fascinating because such a large majority of her stories are from the female perspective, especially in Tortall- (I haven't read many of the Circle of Magic books), so maybe we will get to know Sarra from Rikash's perspective. I await it excitedly, as well as the series she has planned around Numair!
