Authors' Note: Meh.I think I started this little tale way back before Squire came out. Anyway, just ignore the first chapter.although if you want to find out more about what the heck Neal and Kel were doing together; go read my uncompleted first fanfic. Anyway, I'm too lazy to rewrite the first chapter, and since that's not what the story was about anyway, just start reading from here, okay?

Disclaimer: The world of Tortall is copyrighted by Tamora Pierce

Maris of Tamreh shifted inside the Chamber of Ordeal. The air closed around her, encasing her in a cacoon of stifling stink. It added to her already intensified fear of enclosed spaces. Every step she took seemed to make the walls push closer together, to make the ceiling fall closer to the floor. She stuffed her shirt into her mouth to keep from screaming. A knight had to overcome her fears. And she did want to be a knight so badly. Just like her mother and Kyllen's cousin, Adriana. Was this Ordeal a joke? Where were the horrible things that were supposed to happen to her? How long were her friends going to leave her here? She'd been in here for hours, even days possibly.though some part of her mind told her it'd only been two minutes. Maris sought comfort in that thought.

The room shifted, and the girl sighed with relief. But not for long. A mage in a black robe stood before her, arms upraised, and began to utter the vile words of a killing spell. Maris fell to the floor, arms over her head. Dark maroon Gift-the color of dried blood, shot toward her. Maris bit her tongue, and her mouth was filled with the aftertaste of her blood; sweet and bitter.

Kyllen had warned her that the Chamber would play on her darkest fears, but she wasn't ready. Who was she kidding? She would never be ready. Kyllen-he stood before her, his soft black hair ruffled by the gentle breeze. He smiled, tawny eyes twinkling at her, and leaned close for a kiss-an arrow stopped his motion and his life. He fell, golden eyes puzzled, then accusing, as he stared at her. She had betrayed him and his king. The Rogues had trusted her to keep their secret from the Provost, and she had turned on them like the dog she was.

Duty or friendship? What will you choose when the time comes? When it comes down to it all, which will you choose to abandon?

The thoughts came unbidden to Maris' mind, placed there by the magic of the Chamber of the Ordeal. You Gods are lower than the dirt we walk on, all of you. Only the dredges of society would stoop so low as to play with peoples minds. The Chamber only chuckled and opened its doors. Maris thought fiercely.

Who are the mortals to judge the morality of the games we gods play?

An overwhelming force pushed at the girl. Maris didn't like being pushed and ordered about, even by the gods. Gritting her teeth, she strained against the force.at least until she realized that that wasn't part of her ordeal. It was over, the Chamber wanted to get rid of her. Maris stumbled out of the Chamber, into the arms of her knight mistress, Kiria of Naxen. The sound of mocking laughter was at her back. So the gods thought she was some kind of joke? Shaking from head to toe, Maris was thankful for the heavy robe Kiria draped around her shoulders. Her Knight Mistress and her year mates were silent. They knew what it felt to be chewed and spat out by the Chamber of Ordeal.

=@=

Protect the crown and the people who live under it. Show mercy and justice where none might be found otherwise. Honor the Code of Chivalry and make Tortall proud.

Maris soaked up these words with her soul; knighthood would not always be glamorous, yet she and her friends would always strive to do what they must. The room's solemnity lifted, the shields were to be presented. In the order by which they had entered the chamber, each received their shield. Grent, Farren, Jasson, and Adrien. When it was her turn, Maris squeaked with shock: Princess Lorraine of Conte and Lady Knight Taralie of High Tower approached her, a cloth covered shield between them.

"We had to fight Lady Kiria for the honor of presenting your shield to you." Taralie said, green eyes twinkling. "In the end, the vitality of youth beat old tough guts."

"Old tough guts", more popularly known as Kiria of Naxen, winked at the younger knight. "Watch your mouth young lady, or you'll pay dearly in the practice courts." Kiria said, "When I was your age, I respected my elders. Besides, at 34, my bones aren't that old yet."

"Without further ado," Taralie, always a player at heart, announced with flair. "And without further delay," Princess Lorraine attempted to imitate her best friend's dramatic speech.

"Horse dung!" Adrien, Maris' yearmate and closest friend, said, "Get on with it! We're hungry!"

Taralie and the Princess shot him twin glares of reproof, but removed the velvet cover (if not with an excessive flourish) or the shield. Twin rings in red and gold, the symbol of a distaff knight, surrounded a field of matte gold, upon which was drawn a red rose in full bloom, rising up from amid deadly black thorns.

Maris grinned. "Adrien's' idea." Grent whispered to her. As she was the only girl in her year, the "rose among the thorns" was Adrien's nickname for the eighteen-year-old knight. It became a private joke among her friends, and was used to tease Maris whenever possible.

"Ha. Ha." Maris muttered, still grinning in spite of herself. "I'll be haunted by my childhood nickname til the end of my days."

"You're welcome. Lady Knight."

'All hail the Rose of Tamreh. Huzzuh' a mocking voice said from within the chamber, unheard by all.

=@=

Night found Maris and her friends in black robes, sneaking out of the Palace.

"You know." Tara said to Lorraine, "The children are all little knights now. So we needn't sneak about anymore." This comment earned glares from the aforementioned "children".

"Oh Tara." Lorraine said, in a too sweet voice. "Let the children have their fun."

"I'll have you know," Farren said with a undignified sniff. "I am older than you."

"By three years only." Lorraine replied.

"We are all men now, mother." Grent told Tara sweetly. "And as men, and women, we must gather up our arms and protect the lovely young Rose of Tamreh."

"Oh, shut it." Maris grumbled. "I don't need any protecting, I can beat you silly at swordplay anytime."

"What?" Grent cried, hands over chest like an untalented player cast as the infamous lover Rond. "Thou art weary of my love for thee? Then thou-" His dramatic monologue was cut short by an overhanging branch. As his hands were over his heart, not on the reins like they should've been, Grent was popped out of his saddle like a cork from a wine bottle.

"Ah! The glory of Knighthood." Adrien commented to the mud covered Grent. His Bazhir mare, Sungift stepped delicately over the fallen knight. Thunder, Grent's dun stallion, let out a sound that resembled a snicker, though Maris could've been hearing things.

Not likely.

=@=

The Spotted Hare was crowded with friends of the newly knighted nobles. Most of these people were of the lower level, peasants, servants, and Maris' favorite-the Rogues. The commoners had befriended Adrien when he was still a first year page. While others followed the normal repertoire of training, Adrien was luckier. Along with the normal knightly skills, he learned lock picking, slight of hand, and all sorts of improper abilities. Though, through the fault of his pitiful lying skills, his friends were able to pound the location of his second home from him. By their first years as Squires, The Spotted Hare had become a regular haunt for the young knights and their companions.

The atmosphere of the inn was invariably different from the gravity of the castle. For one, the newly made knights and their companions were swept into a high kicking, rollicking celebration dance as soon as they entered. Maris had no sooner stepped across the threshold when she was grabbed up into a solid embrace.

"Kyllen!" Maris cried in delight at the sight of her heart partner. "I thought you were up at Port Legann!"

"What? And miss the most important day of your life?" Kyllen replied, "You know me, savage rabbits couldn't keep me from Corus; though they did try." A kiss and a hug, and the two were forced to join the rest of the party.

"Hello."

A small voice interrupted a lively debate over the proper meaning of various aspects of Tortallan law. Maris and her companions looked down to find the strangest girl any had ever seen.

Blue eyes, so light that they bestowed an image of madness, shone out from under overly thick, white lashes. Her body seemed to clean for the ragged piece of burlap that the girl wore as clothing. The oddest feature of all though, was her hair. Sleek as silk, it curled gently to her back in a waterfall of white. Why a child, who appeared to be no older than ten, would posses white hair was anyone's question.

"Who are you?" Maris asked. The child's eyes were strangely compelling, and she felt herself drawn irresistibly to her.

"She's an orphan I picked up at Port Legann." Kyllen said softly. "She was wandering around aimlessly, and I was afraid someone would take her and sell her as a slave, so I had to pick her up." Kyllen looked worried. "We think she may be a child seer, as she sometimes goes into strange moods and spouts prophecies. Most times, she's normal enough. Her name's Saphron."

"Hello Saphron, how old are you?" Tara asked gently.

"I think she's in one of her moods." Kyllen said.

Ignoring the older knight and rogue, the child placed her hands on Maris' face and gently drew her closer.

"The last of the last, the first of the first," Saphron said, in a voice oddly deep for a girl child, "betrayed by those closest to her, she'll free the lowest from their bindings of earth, and bring to doom him that sits on the highest throne of the land. And what will you get?"

The girl looked up at Maris with her pale blue, manis eyes; eyes that, Maris was startled to discover, were full of tears.

"What will you receive in the end?" The girl asked, "Will you be having riches and honour for your brave deeds? They won't give you that .they won't be pleased with that. No.you'll have to settle for death then."