Paladin's Oath

by M. H. Johnson

  Twilight, resting comfortably on his favorite spot underneath the warm golden light pouring in from the westward window cracked an eye at Jess, gazing at her thoughtfully. “I think you know the answer to that, Jess.”

  Jess heaved a bitter sigh. “I know, I know. Mother is terrified that if word gets out, if Kipu starts rumors, that everyone will think I’m mad. And if the Royal Family buys into that ridiculous claim, she fears I’ll be too dangerous to be allowed to roam free, and worst case, they will want to exterminate our entire family!” Jess held her head in her hands and began to weep, so exhausted she was. “I was just doing the best I knew how, Twilight, trying to protect Apple! It's just not enough for Mother. In the heat of the moment, not only do I have to discover the truth and protect Apple, but I have to do it in such a way that I don’t ruffle any feathers. By Justice, do I hate politics!”

  Twilight nodded. "That's the heart of it. Your family gives no credence to the possibility that you might have been completely right, fears only that rumor and innuendo will lead to official censure, and the consequences that might occur. There was no way you could win, Jess. Either you do what must be done and suffer for it, or you let yourself be so chained down by their worries and expectations that you do nothing, and if your fears were right, Apple would be enticed into a trap and locked away, perhaps screaming in terror at this very moment, suffering unspeakable torments in some wooden shack somewhere."

  Jess shuddered, grimacing in horror at the thought. "Put that way, beloved one, I have no choice but to accept this burden." She forced a bitter smile. "Far better for my sister to be hale and healthy, with plenty of energy to despise me, than her being subjected to the whims of a brutal madman."

  Jess gave a furious shake of her head. “Yet the stakes are now so high for us, that a single misstep, even simply trying to save my sister's life, is enough to send half the Council screaming for my head under any pretext, or so my parents fear. And all because, during the madness of that terrible night when the Turnsbys were getting sucked into the realm of Shadow, it came to me, how to save them. And that talent makes the nobles in power today nervous. As if I were out to overthrow them or something.”

  Twilight dipped his head in agreement. "Precisely. No doubt a corrupt and jaded lot like that has much to fear from someone who is truly bonded to the land. The irony being that whatever fool had started the rumors now lives only because you risked your life to save their own. Gratitude is so easily pushed away for some, even as they stoke their greed and fear as bright as any flame." Her familiar sighed. "In truth, I have taken little interest in politics this time around, but perhaps that has been a mistake. When things are more stable here, I will have to look into it."

  “Oh Twilight, you are not abandoning me now, are you?” Jess cringed to hear herself sound like a desperate child.

  At that her familiar lazily got up from his comfortable doze and stretched before making his way to her, soon curled up snugly in her lap, butting her chest. “Fear not, my dear mistress. There is time, yet, before events necessitate that venture. In the meantime, there is a belly in need of a good rub.”

  Smiling, Jess was all too happy to pet and stroke her kitty, feeling better than she had all day, before finally collapsing into an exhausted heap, still wearing her satin dress.

  50

  The second day began much as the first had, before twisted irony drove Jess as near the brink of oblivion as she had ever been.

  Breakfast did not start out a complete disaster. Her sister, for the most part, forbore from angry accusations, staring instead at Jess with a look so cold that Jess would rather have been getting yelled at.

  “Jessica, elbows off the table, back straight, wrists relaxed!” Agda's voice rang out, Jess having to repress a flinch, startled as she so often was by her mother's sharp, jarring tone. “Now again, let us eat like a lady, not a savage.”

  “Savage is right,” Apple muttered under her breath, her mother choosing to ignore that comment.

  Grimly, Jess did her best to follow all her mother's commands as the day proceeded, but never did Lady Calenbry, as she insisted Jess now call her, seem satisfied. "You need to try harder, Jessica." Or "This is a basic stitch. Your sister had this mastered when she was ten!" or "Walk like a lady, Jess. You are no longer to ape the gestures of a man. Are we clear?" Eventually, Jess had to squeeze back the tears of frustration, clenching her hands so tightly they shook.

  “Jessica, ladies do not clench their hands, no matter their troubles, and far less deserved than yours! You are to keep yourself calm, poised, and show nothing to the public eye, absolutely nothing! You are to be a perfect doll at all times, seen but not heard until you are addressed. Do you hear me?” her mother scolded yet again, pinning Jess with her cold, disapproving glare, and with a curious feeling of rage and relief, Jess screamed.

  "I cannot do this anymore, Mother! I am not a doll! I am not your plaything! I will not be some man's dainty creature, there to serve his pleasure! I do not care for this gods' damned dress, or asinine sewing, or whether or not my elbows are on the table! You are tormenting me with this nightmare of conformity, because you are angry at me and afraid!"

  Jess found herself heaving, muscles clenched so tight she could feel her dress tearing. Her mother left speechless, stunned by the intensity of Jess’s outburst.

  "You are afraid I will bring censure on this house, that rumors of my supposed madness will cause the Crown to look poorly on us! Would you rather that I had done nothing save be one more terrified lady, more concerned with her petticoats than the proper way to wield a sword, when those monsters were butchering the entire Turnsby Estate? But that doesn't even register within your brilliant mind, because to you it was like a dream! You would rather that I have done nothing than protect your daughter, for you refuse to even consider that what I said about Kipu might be true! If I'm wrong? No one regrets it more than I. But Mother, his men drew steel first, and they lunged at me! Once steel is in play, you have to act as savagely and ruthlessly as you can, or you're a corpse on the ground! You wouldn't begrudge Geoffrey that training, but now you begrudge it of me! Had the guards kept their damn blades sheathed, or even points down, none of that would have happened! Did you even consider that maybe I was trying to draw Kipu out? That there was a method to my madness? And he seemed perfectly okay walking away, after telling his guards to ‘take care of me,' but that doesn't matter, right? Because I must be mistaken. I must be the mad one. And all the good I did, following my heart just a season ago, saving you and Apple and scores of others from being consumed by darkest Shadow, that also counts for nothing, since you barely even remember it!"

  Jess shook her head, gazing at her mother's shocked expression through tear-filled eyes. "I am sorry, Mother. More sorry than I can possibly say. But I cannot pretend to be this frightened little creature, as graceful and fragile as a glass figurine that you so want me to be. And any man who would desire me would only want a helpless little lie, and no doubt would loathe the real me." Her sigh was bitter, her voice having falling from a shout to a low dead monotone. "But perhaps you are right. Perhaps, no matter what the truth was, all that matters is the perception of those who are jealous and insecure in their positions, who would strike out at any instability, any untamed threat."

  Jess nodded to herself, on some level knowing already that no matter what she said, it would have no impact on her mother's disdain for her. "I would never want to do anything to put you or the family in danger. I would never want family ties to hurt those I love. Perhaps, Mother, it would be best if you and Father simply named me outcast, and banished me. A Calenbry no longer. That way, the family is safe. All know how seriously those oaths are taken. You would be free of me, free of the failure I have turned out to be in your eyes, and most importantly, you will slip out of the notice of those who would fear me and seek to destroy me."

  Jess felt her heart clench with the pain of those words. As agonizing and unfair as it seemed, she had felt like
a pariah since the very night the horrible incident had occurred, held in disdain by her entire family, loathed for her nature, which before they all accepted with various degrees of tolerance. Yet now everyone took issue with absolutely every part of her identity, and worse, put whatever folly might befall their House squarely upon her shoulders, their well-being somehow captive to her embracing a role that she utterly and completely despised.

  Well, she was tired of pretending, tired of their ill-concealed disdain for her, tired of aching for love and acceptance that now seemed perpetually out of her reach. All in all, she was just tired.

  She was, in fact, so drained with the confession that weighed on her heart, willing to accept the almost inescapable conclusion that her banishment was the only safe answer that she hardly registered her mother's vicious slap, rocking Jess on her feet for the second time in three days. Jess's head snapped up in hurt surprise, though really, she should expect anything from them at this point, she realized.

  Her mother's gaze was filled with bitter fury. "Don't you dare, Jessica!" she hissed. "Don't you dare think you can take some moral high ground and weasel out from under the weight of your own sins, abandoning your whole family, just because you are too afraid, too cowardly, to do what must be done! Do you really think the Royal Clan would leave us alone if they found you unfit? Do you really? If only I could crack open your thick skull and make you think! They would never believe we had truly banished you, our own daughter! They would never think we had completely cut all ties and abandoned you. Nor would we! You are our child, however misguided and ill-tempered you are. And no matter how much I regret the past, I cannot change it, and I cannot give you up so cheaply! So how dare you give your family so little credit, holding us in such ill regard that you would even suggest it!"

  Shaking so badly she looked ready to collapse, the woman who meant so much to her, who Jess had struggled so to please over the years but had always seemed to come up short, sunk back down to her chair, gazing at Jess through bitter tears of disappointment. “By the gods, Jessica. I didn’t think you could say or do anything more hurtful than you already have, but you’ve actually managed to do it! That you would think so poorly of us after everything we have been through as a family.”

  Tears streamed freely from her mother's eyes, and Jess, to her numb surprise, realized she had never felt lower or more horrible in all her life. Her mother was right. In a moment of frustration, in a fit of pique, she was ready to cast off her whole family, even as they were desperately trying to hold on and prepare for the storms to come. As if their bonds of loyalty and love meant nothing.

  What an utter and complete coward she was. What a pathetic excuse for a daughter she had turned out to be.

  “Go to your room, Jessica, and stay there! I don’t even want to look at you right now.”

  Numbly, Jess nodded, feeling like she could choke on her own self-loathing, grimly determined never to open her door again.

  “Jessica! What’s wrong?” Twilight actually seemed alarmed, gazing at Jess’s shaking form, and she could barely hold back the bitter tears blinding her before flying to her bed, heaving her agonizing sorrow and frustration into her soft, down-filled pillows, knowing even her familiar held her tears in contempt.

  It was some minutes before the storm of sobs had passed, leaving Jess feeling exhausted and wrung out like a dishrag, and about as worthless. Her melancholy became so deep she hardly felt that she could move from her bed. Nor did she want to, ever. She exerted only the effort it took to get up and toss her down-filled mattress off her bed completely. There. Hard wood suited her best. Her dress? A farce, a sham. A pretend sugar frosted princess she could never be. The roaring bull shattering fragile dishware left and right was a far more apt description of her. With but a moment's effort she grimly tore off her too tight dress, crumpling it in a ball, and tossing it to fall where it would.

  Solemnly, she lay herself back down on the hardwood bed frame and sighed. Never, never in her life had she felt so horrible. She smiled through her own bitter tears, though. If she had just been a bit faster back at the Turnsbys, if she had just escaped her father’s gaze, she would be wild and free. Free to live life without shame or hesitation, free to adventure with her companions, to brave daring feats, to laugh and drink and regale her companions with tales of wonder and companionship while warming her feet by the fire of welcoming inns and taverns in countless cities and towns throughout the land.

  She sighed bitterly as she regaled her whispered regrets to her oddly solemn familiar, who for once criticized her not for her girlish sobs, merely resting on her chest, comforting her with his fur, his warmth, his love.

  "Yes, Jess. Had the tides of fate flowed just a bit differently, you might have avoided your father's gaze for that crucial moment, sprinted across the road and been hidden by tree foliage in a heartbeat." Her familiar paused a moment, nodding his head, his tail twitching in time to his thoughts. “Of course, had fate spun just a bit differently, Malek might have suffered a far graver wound than he did from that Spear of Sorrows, Jess. Or, Onnika’s father might have killed his daughter before we had a chance to rescue her. And what, my dear mistress, would have happened to your far too spoiled and ungrateful sister, had we not caught your father’s eye? Would she be alive to complain to your mother about how awful her barbarian of a sister is, or would she be busy shrieking in agony, all alone, in some dark terrible dungeon with no company save the rotting skulls of those who had fallen to Kipu's wiles before?”

  Jess shivered, her brooding melancholy pierced by the icy possibilities that fate had so narrowly allowed them to dodge. “Put that way, my mother’s contempt is a far, far less painful burden than my sister’s possible death.” She sighed. “That’s assuming I wasn’t just half crazy with ghosts of fear that had no anchor in the living world.”

  Twilight nodded before resting his head upon his mistress’s chest. “There is that, my queen. Still, when all is said and done, for the price of a few guardsmen who dared to draw steel on the most precious of all mortals, it was our best option.”

  Jess just sighed and stroked her kitty, eyes gazing at sights only she could see.

  “I am sorry this turning of the seasons has been such a stormy one for you, my beloved Jess,” Twilight murmured sympathetically. “Through many of our journeys, from their gentle dawn to their peaceful dusk, you are able to be the happy, carefree girl, loved and nurtured, embraced by the doting family that you had always longed for, ever so long ago. Safe and content in a home filled with tender warmth, happiness, and of course, lots of fresh fish.”

  Twilight sighed, lost in content reflection, gently licking Jess’s face as she fell into a deep sleep.

  And sleep Jess did, adrift in the sweetest of dreams. Where bitter words and unreasonable expectations couldn’t pierce her with doubt or regret. She slowly blossomed to an odd awareness, as much asleep as awake, in a place warm, vast, full of rich green life. There was no need for words here. No room for worry. Only blissful peace, soothing contentment, as she lay gently within the rich, fecund soil of possibility, the roots of her hopes and passions sinking ever deeper into the bedrock of her dreams.

  She was happy there, entwined within her own arboreal splendor. Jess felt a love and connection with everything around her. It was a natural understanding. No harsh words, no disappointment, the trees loved her. And she loved them. She felt a connection so deep, it was almost as if she were one with the land. Indeed, from the tip of her roots to the budding leaves outside her rooms, she felt a wondrous connection to that great structure she had long called home, as if the great wooden manor they had all lived within for so many years had caught the very germination of life, and was blossoming anew.

  She luxuriated in the feel of newly sprouted roots questing ever deeper into the soil, latching onto the very bedrock far below, drinking deep of secret, hidden springs. She reveled in the gentle kiss of the morning sun against newly budding leaves, and for all that Jess knew it
was all just a dream, she felt such tremendous happiness in being a part of this great living structure.

  No longer was she that sad, overburdened child, bound by ties of loyalty and obligation, forced to scurry around like the fast-paced creatures below, unable to fit in and find her place, misunderstood and resented by her fellows. Here there was only the warmth of the sun, the tingly feeling of growth and life, the gentle balm of vegetative acceptance. Plants adored her. They always had, as a wide-eyed young version of herself had insisted to her family, long ago.

  "How do you know?" Her mother had gently asked. A younger, happier version of Agda, one who could still love her energetic young daughter unreservedly, gently stroking Jess's shimmering blond hair, so like her own, even as she had been contentedly nursing a very young Appolonia, curls back then a brilliant, fiery red, happily nuzzling her mother's chest. Jess had shrugged and said she didn't know how, but it had always been so. She had just then thought to speak the revelation aloud. Plants loved her, and she loved them too.

  Her mother had nodded and laughed and said it was a wonderful thing, allowing Jess to play to her heart's content in the garden, and after a time her parents' looks of indulgent tolerance soon became happy smiles of pride, even wonder, when they gazed upon how richly Jess's plants thrived, how large and aromatic her blossoms were, even putting their chief gardener to shame. He had been a kind man, long since passed on to his next life, not one for jealousy even then, only nodding in approval of Jess's knack, and teaching her what little she hadn't already figured out, even at that young age. Jessica has a gift, he had told her parents knowingly, and they had smiled and nodded their agreement.