Chapter 10: The Ordeal

Joren had to concentrate to force down the panic he was feeling. Sir Myles and Sir Paxton was saying the ritualistic words of the Code, and all he could think about was covering himself so they wouldn't see the scars. He had thought about asking them to instruct him after the bath, but he was afraid of being ridiculed. That method, after all, was only used on Lady Alanna, and will be used on Kel, for obvious reasons. He didn't want to appear any more of a weakling than he already was.

"To wear the shield of a knight is an important thing. You may not ignore a cry for help. It means that rich and poor, young and old, male and female may look to you for rescue, and you cannot deny them."

The words were nothing new to Joren, but felt as if he were hearing them for the first time. In his years as a page and as a squire, duty has not meant much to him.

After his adventure, King Jonathan had written him a letter hailing him as a hero. But it just made Joren realize how much he didn't deserve the honor. He had saved Neal's life out of love. Everything else was just fate taking control, with him just along for the ride.

His mind was wandering, so he forced himself back into the present. Once the bath was finished, he put on the undyed cotton breeches and shirt. He was used to finery, but the sparse clothes felt wonderful to him. He was never going to be comfortable unclothed, especially with people around. He hasn't been to the public baths since what happened.

At last, Sir Paxton opened the door to the chapel. "Remember, you must make no sound between now and the time you leave the Chamber of the Ordeal." Leaning down, he gave Joren an awkward hug.

Sir Myles merely clasped a hand on Joren's shoulder. "Mithros bless, Joren."

Joren was left to walk alone into the cold room. The only light in the room came from a lamp behind the altar. Joren sat down at the bench in front of the Chamber. He shivered partly in fear and partly from the cold.

Fear was a new thing for Joren. As a very young child, his father had encouraged him to eliminate this emotion. Being a filthy rich noble had helped further the illusion that nothing can touch him. But during his time in that dark room, hanging on those chains, he had felt real fear. For the first time, he had felt helpless.

And now he was facing either knighthood or failure.

He had also realized that he wanted to be a knight not just to escape his father's command or attain glory for himself. He wanted to help people. Knighthood will make it more likely that he never feel helpless again.

Although Joren wanted to think about the coming ordeal, his thoughts led back to Neal. He had loved the older squire for as long as he could remember, but he didn't know how to show him without revealing his own weaknesses. And now, Neal already knew how weak he was. Joren suspected that Neal avoided him because he was disgusted with him. He was scarred and ugly, and tainted with that Robert's filth…

I could change for Neal. Joren thought to himself. He could try to patch things with Keladry, and he could certainly try to be a great and noble knight for him. From now on, no more hiding. No more bullying. Joren wanted to show Neal that he could be a better person. I'll never tell him what I feel, but I'll change for him. I'll do my duty for him.

The rest of his vigil was spent thinking about Nealan of Queenscove's eyes, and hair, and smile, and voice… From his image, Joren drew strength of will and what passes for happiness.

***

A hand touched his shoulder, and Joren flinched with surprise. A priest was gesturing towards the door to the Chamber of the Ordeal. It was open.

Joren stood up and tried to stretch his stiff legs. The priest helped him to walk, and Joren was too tired to refuse the aid. He entered the boxlike room made of gray stone. The door clanged shut, leaving him in suffocating darkness. Joren fought the fear that froze his bones. A disjointed voice echoed around the room. It called for him.

"Joren…Joren…"

It was Robert's voice.

Joren clenched his fists as helpless tears fell from his eyes. Suddenly, the room disappeared. He was back in that torture chamber, and looking at himself gagged and tied to the chains. Robert was tracing over his body with a long blood-red needle, while looking at him. "I'm still around you know. Just like my father. What will you do if I come back from the dead, Joren?"

Then the large blue eyes staring back at him from the chains turned into green ones. It was Neal. Joren ground his teeth to stop himself from screaming. He couldn't move. He had to watch as Robert cut Neal open with a whip and rammed into him from behind. I won't let you do this. You're dead. He informed the monster silently. He was trying to convince himself more than anything.

"Do you think you can protect him, Joren? Do you think he will ever thank you for what happened?" Robert was still smiling at him, while Neal whimpered against his gag.

Joren finally found the strength to move. He ran towards Robert, although his flesh was crawling with panic. He had to free Neal. He knew it wasn't real, but he couldn't stop himself.

Then the world disappeared and Joren's mind was suddenly filled with the face of every person he bullied or insulted. Many were crying. The images show him beating up the defenseless and weak, and watching as his friends do the same.

"You have been heartless to many. And yet you think you would make a worthy knight?" A commanding voice resounded in the room.

"I can change", Joren said silently. He had curled up into himself, crying, unable to stop the barrage of images. "I will change. I promise."

"Promises aren't good enough." The images stopped and a heavy darkness descended upon Joren. Then, a single face appeared. It was Neal. Joren cried even harder, feeling acutely how worthless he was. "Sometimes, love isn't enough either." The voice whispered in his ear.

Suddenly the room became ordinary stone once more. "Do your duty, child. Do your duty so that you will be cleansed." The door to the Chamber opened.

***

Neal sneaked into the Chapel. He didn't want to tell anyone, not even Kel, but he really wanted to see Joren. Mithros, let him be alright.

The door opened and a paler than usual Joren appeared, his hands bloody where his nails cut into his palms, and his eyes swollen red with tears. He staggered out and Sir Paxton was waiting to catch him. He was obviously shaking.

Neal was watching from the back. He could see Garvey, Vinson and the others looking very scared. Joren's followers looked up to him and seeing him brought so low made them anxious about their own coming Ordeals. But he made it. The Chamber deemed him worthy. Neal was so relieved he wanted to cry. He hurried out of the room before anyone could notice him.

Joren recovered enough to look around the Chapel. His 'friends' were there but no one looked him in the eye. His mother was crying hysterically, which just made him recover faster. He acknowledged her with a weak smile.

He wasn't expecting him to be there, but in his heart, he was still hoping. But he wasn't. Of course he wasn't. Joren closed his eyes for a second and didn't notice when he started to lose consciousness.