Redemption Chapter 2: Choices, a protector of the small quartet fanfic

Redemption

Disclaimer: I do not own PotS, but I thank Tamora Pierce for providing such a rich "playground."

"Choices"

"If you survive the Ordeal of Knighthood, you will be a Knight of the Realm. You will be sworn to protect those weaker than you, to obey your overlord, to live in a way that honors your kingdom and your gods. ... 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."

--Tamora Pierce, Squire

Joren of Stone Mountain listened halfheartedly as his knight master, Sir Paxton of Nond, and his friend Sir Ansil of Groten recited the traditional ritual of instruction while he bathed. His mind drifted as they blathered on and on about the Code of Chivalry, as well as the duties and responsibilities of a knight. As far as Joren was concerned, the Code was a joke. The Progressives had watered down everything so that even a weak-minded woman could try to become a knight. Where was the honor in that? Who needed women out and about, trying to be like men? He just couldn't wait to be free of all the games and concessions being made, especially for that wench, Keladry of Mindelan. Once he had his shield, Joren had plans to completely humiliate and discredit her in every way that he could.

Finally, the instructions and the bath were done, and Sir Paxton issued Joren the final warning not to speak aloud until the Chamber released him. Joren put on the plain cotton shirt and breeches as tradition dictated. He sniffed with disdain at the coarseness of the cloth, which reminded him of peasant's clothing. The Chapel was cold, and Joren fought against sleep as he sat on the hard wooden bench in front of the altar. Although he was supposed to be meditating on what the Code meant to him and the realm, he chose to think about which lady would suit him best as a noble wife. Several beauties of the court came to his mind, but most of the ones he liked best, he knew, were not high-born enough to suit his parents. He would probably end up shackled to some ugly fifth cousin. It was a depressing thought. Impatiently he waited for the Chamber door to open.

Joren startled when the Mithran priest touched his shoulder. He blinked. He didn't remember falling asleep, but he certainly had not been aware of the time passing. Stiffly, he rose from the bench and allowed the priest to usher him into the small, boxlike Chamber of the Ordeal. He did not look back at anyone else in the chapel as he stepped forward onto the cool stone floor. All light disappeared as the heavy metal door clanged shut.

Joren stood in the dark in the middle of the chamber for what seemed like a long time. He had thought that his eyes would adjust to the darkness but he closed them after a while because of the strain of trying to see something, anything. He began to think this whole Ordeal thing was nothing but a load of manure, when all of the sudden his ears were assaulted with the loudest, harshest voice he had ever heard.

"Joren of Stone Mountain," boomed the voice. "Prepare to die! You are not worthy to carry the Shield of Knighthood for you care nothing for the Code of Chivalry which helps govern this Realm. You are full of arrogance and malice. You love no one but yourself. Decide now - will your death be quick and painful or slow and unbearable?"

Joren, who had sunk to the floor on his knees and covered his ears due to the pain of the bodiless voice, was shocked and dismayed. Was this some joke? Was this part of the Ordeal? Was it a test to see if he would scream out in fear or anger at the voice's proclamation? He thought frantically back to his instruction and his years of training. What was he supposed to do now?

The horrific voice boomed inside his head, "This is not a jest. You have been found lacking and the Dark God awaits you. Your only choice is the manner in which you will die. Now choose!"

Joren decided that this was part of his Ordeal, and so he said in his mind, "I choose quick and painful."

Joren startled when the Mithran priest touched his shoulder. He blinked. He didn't remember falling asleep, but he certainly had not been aware of the time passing. Had he just been dreaming of the Chamber's death sentence upon him? Stiffly, he rose from the bench and allowed the priest to usher him into the small, boxlike Chamber of the Ordeal. This time, Joren looked back at his parents and his uncle, Sir Paxton and Sir Ansil, and the handful of other people in the chapel who had come to support him during his vigil. Warily, he stepped forward onto the cool stone floor. All light disappeared as the heavy metal door clanged shut.

Joren stood in the dark in the middle of the chamber for what seemed like a long time. He had thought that his eyes would adjust to the darkness but he closed them after a while because of the strain of trying to see something, anything. He began to wonder if what had happened before was just a dream. Suddenly, his ears were assaulted with the loudest, harshest voice he had ever heard -again.

Joren, who had sunk to the floor on his knees and covered his ears due to the pain of the bodiless voice, was shocked and dismayed. Was this a trick? Was this part of the Ordeal? What was going on?

The horrific voice again boomed inside his head, "This is not a jest. You have been found lacking and the Dark God awaits you. Your only choice is the manner in which you will die. Now choose!"

Joren decided that he should make the same choice he had made in his dream, so he said in his mind, "I choose quick and painful."

Joren startled when the Mithran priest touched his shoulder. He blinked. He fought back a wave of panic and fear as he stiffly rose from the bench and allowed the priest to usher him into the small, boxlike Chamber of the Ordeal. Joren looked back at his parents and his uncle, Sir Paxton and Sir Ansil, and the handful of other people in the chapel who had come to support him during his vigil. They did not seem to be concerned about anything. Perhaps he had been dreaming before. Warily, he stepped forward onto the cool stone floor. All light disappeared as the heavy metal door clanged shut.

Joren stood in the dark in the middle of the chamber for what seemed like a long time. He had thought that his eyes would adjust to the darkness but he closed them after a while because of the strain of trying to see something, anything. He began to wonder what was happening. He waited in anticipation for what he thought was coming next. Sure enough, his ears were assaulted with that same loud and harsh voice.

Joren once again sank to the floor on his knees and covered his ears due to the pain of the bodiless voice. Now he not only was shocked and dismayed, but fully spooked as well. This had to be some trick, some sorcery. Someone must have tampered with the Chamber. That must be it. He would complain quite loudly when he got out of here!

The horrific voice again boomed inside his head, "This is not a jest. You have been found lacking and the Dark God awaits you. Your only choice is the manner in which you will die. Now choose!"

Joren wondered if he should make the same choice as before. He knew something was terribly wrong, but even if he ended up back in the chapel, he was not supposed to speak. Therefore he wouldn't be able to tell anyone about the problem with the Chamber. For the first time in a long time, Joren of Stone Mountain was afraid. Perhaps this really was part of his Ordeal and he needed to see it through. Although he truly had no desire to die a slow death, this time Joren thought in his mind, "I choose slow and unbearable."

A/N: Tune in next time ... I know, I know - no one likes a cliff hangar. I promise to update sooner if I get a bunch of reviews. Thank you!