Sir Chester and Sarah Mane
Unlike Lady Buxton, Sir Chester did not need to deal with the adrenaline shakes as he left Orwen’s room. That didn’t mean the encounter hadn’t affected him though, and as he stood in the hallway outside of their sponsor’s room scanning the closed doors that lined it he took his time selecting which one to knock on first. A moment passed, and the veteran knight let out a small sigh, squared his shoulders, and stepped across the hall to a nearby door.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
Sarah’s eyes slowly opened in the darkness. She squinted, attempting to locate the door where the dull thuds were coming from. Dim candlelight shone in a thin line along the floor. Pushing off the blankets and furs, Sarah climbed to her feet before realizing she was half naked. Scanning the floor with her finger tips, she quickly found her linen dress and pulled it over her smooth skin.
“Was doing this in the middle of the night truly necessary?” She wondered with much irritation. Stumbling through the darkness, Sarah unlatched the bolt and yanked open the heavy door with some difficulty. At the last moment, she attempted to smooth back the tendrils which had fallen from her golden braid.
Standing in the doorway was Sir Chester. Sarah's hand shot to her chest, ensuring that her bosom was fully covered before the Knight. Part of her wished that Lady Buxton had come instead. However, she instinctively assumed that since he was a man, Sir Chester was likely the one in charge. "It's just as well," she thought to herself, "Better to get my questions answered from someone who knows what's going on."
"Yes?" Came Sarah's voice, her practiced Vasilli accent on full display.
“Oh…” Sir Chester replied, not quite managing to keep his surprise at finding himself unexpectedly face to face with a woman entirely concealed. He hadn’t exactly cared whose door he was knocking on when he’d chosen this one, but neither had he expected one of the only two female recruits his and Lady Buxton’s mission had acquired to be the person to open it. (And yet, at the same time, a part of him had hoped it was the exotic assassin’s room he’d chosen… ah well, better luck next time.) Almost as soon as the sound had slipped past his lips however, Chester had his surprise in check and was all business once again.
He cleared his throat and said, “My apologies for disturbing you at this hour, Miss… Payne, was it?”
Sarah nodded her head in affirmation and Chester went on, “Right. Again, my apologies Miss Payne. I’m here to conduct the interview that Lady Buxton indicated would be performed this night concerning your reasons for applying for a place in the Consano.”
Sarah studied Sir Chester for a short moment. He was a good deal older than she. His face was tanned indicating he had not spent his life in a study like herself. The first lines of age were beginning to show around the corners of his face. A bit of scraggle near his chin confirmed that he had been on the move lately. “He likely hasn’t had any more time to rest than me” She thought, feeling a bit guilty for pitying herself.
Chester stopped himself at that point, his mouth open as if to say more, and his gaze catching Sarah’s with an expression on his face that wasn’t quite readable (she was already noticing that this man was not one to let his true feelings show). His moment of indecision – if that was what it even was – lasted only an instant and then he asked simply, “May I enter?”
The young healer looked back into the blackened room awkwardly, “Yes, of course.”
She swung the door wide, hoping the dim candle light in the halls would illuminate the room while she searched for her lantern. As Sir Chester stepped forward, Sarah became acutely aware of the rest of her clothes piled on the floor near her cot. Quickly she snapped them up and tossed them next to her pack. Fumbling through the large bag, she found her oil lantern and retrieved an already lit candle from the hall to set it ablaze.
Sir Chester tried not to be obvious about it as he watched the younger woman’s attempt at an impromptu cleanup as she searched for something to light the room with (and was mostly successful in his attempt). The King’s Knight silently reprimanded himself: he should’ve thought to bring a lantern of his own, given the late hour. As he watched, Chester couldn’t help notice just how tired Sarah seemed and found himself wondering what her story was. What series of events had brought her here and prompted her to sign up for this suicide mission?
The air was chilly outside of her blankets, and goose bumps appeared across her thin arms. Politely she extended a hand toward her cot, being the only furniture in the room, and beckoned Sir Chester to sit. She considered closing the door for a moment., but thought better of trapping herself in a room with a man she didn’t know. Knight or not, he was still a stranger.
When Sarah indicated her intention that he take a seat on her cot Chester looked from her hand to the small bed, one corner of his mouth quirking just slightly, as though smiling at a private joke. Returning his gaze to Sarah’s, the little half-smile still evident, he only said, “I think I’ll stand.”
Sarah wondered if the crooked smile upon Chester’s face was a smirk. Regardless, it was not an altogether unpleasant gesture. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks and quickly dropped her hand to her side.
“As you wish. What do you want to know?” she replied softly when he refused her invitation. She longed to sit upon the cot herself. Somehow she felt even more exhausted than she had before falling asleep an hour before. Still, she followed Sir Chester’s lead, and stood.
The smile faded as Chester nodded in response to Sarah’s question and he returned to business. “Only what your intentions are in applying to the Consano, miss Payne. You must know our mission will be a dangerous one. What made you sign your name on that blackboard downstairs? What is it you hope to accomplish, should we accept your application?”
Sarah was silent for a few moments as she considered how to answer this man, “My hope is no different than anyone else’s: that this campaign will bring about a swift end to the plague.” A ‘swift end’ to the plague, hmm? That would be nice, thought Chester, but he highly doubted that would be the way of it. He did not tell Sarah Payne of his misgivings though; only listened to her as she said her piece.
Sarah was quiet again and chose her next words carefully, “Yes I do realize there will be certain… risks involved. However, I am not unaccustomed to traveling under difficult conditions and I trust you’ll find me a fair bit hardier than I seem.”
The young woman fought the urge to become vexed when the Knight gave her a doubtful look. She was used to people underestimating her. Physical endurance aside, Sarah had learned that she must always prove herself in some manner. Being the prodigiously young healer that she was, there had always been those who initially doubted her talents and usefulness. That would be before she had the chance to perform.
“I have a number of skills that may be useful to you. I am an accomplished healer and I have demonstrated high surgical quality on a consistent basis. In addition to this I possess knowledge of the stars and how to use them to navigate in any terrain. I speak three languages to varying degrees and have been educated in the liberal and scientific arts.” Sarah felt a bit of pride well up inside of her, and she reminded herself that the humble are ultimately exalted by the God of Light.
His eyebrows rose slightly as the blonde woman described her skills at healing – and even surgery! That was no small advantage to have in hand when things went bad, as Chester knew they would – and probably sooner rather than later. The other skills she listed would likely come in handy as well.
“I will admit that I am not much of a fighter. That is… I cannot fight at all. Should we find ourselves in eminent danger I will likely concern myself with avoiding rather than confronting it” The young healer knew how bravery and zeal was held in such high esteem by these Knights. She hoped that her confession would be seen as wise rather than dishonorable. Quickly she added, “I am not a coward, I simply know my limitations. You understand of course?”
As she finished with her confession of not being a fighter, Sir Chester held up his hand and answered reassuringly, “I do. Being able to defend oneself is, of course, a valuable skill for a prospective member of our company to possess, I’ll admit. But I don’t think either Lady Buxton or myself ever believed that a strong sword arm was all that we’d need to put an end to this plague. Someone with your skills would absolutely be of use to us, Miss Payne.”
The Knight paused a beat and favored Sarah with a brief but pleasant smile that he hoped would reassure, and then said, “Do you have any… any letters of recommendation? Something I can see that lets me know you are what you claim to be?”
Sarah was relieved that Sir Chester did not press the issue of her poor martial skills. When he asked her to give him some proof of her identity however, she felt her heart jump a bit. She had plenty of proof to be sure, it was in the form of letters she and Cavil had exchanged with her father-in-law. Unfortunately they all addressed her by her married name. Sarah guessed that an initial mark of dishonesty would not be well received by her new leader.
She did have a certificate of graduation with her maiden name from the University at Lion’s Keep, but this would reveal her Dawnish origins no doubt. She considered showing him her surgical equipment, but decided that this would do little to display her actual talent. Besides, those tools were artfully wrapped and buried deep in her pack.
The young woman gave Sir Chester a long hard look. Her mouth was pulled in a tight line as she considered his character and whether or not she could trust him to treat her fairly. She had known some of the most respectable men to behave like scoundrels when prejudice clouded their senses.
“I do have some accounting” She said, turning to her bag. Opening a side pouch, Sarah retrieved the wrinkled page which attested to her education and medical specialty. Slowly, she extended the page toward the Knight, setting her eyes upon his as she did.
Sarah’s reaction to Chester’s request for proof of her identity was readily evident to him, and the Knight’s own expression hardened somewhat as the blonde woman regarded him with drawn mouth and a troubled gaze. Chester had, frankly, not expected this reaction, and now he was beginning to wonder if the woman was in fact a fraud of some kind. Quickly enough however, she’d come to a decision and turned to her bag for what he hoped was the proof he’d requested.
Still troubled by the look she was giving him, Chester took the proffered piece of paper from Sarah’s hand and began to read it. His lips moved slightly but silently as he read the certificate’s words and his brow, already prone to furrowing of its own accord, furrowed deeper still as his expression clouded over. “This is a certificate of graduation from the University of Lion’s Keep”, Chester said, looking up from the page in his hand and locking eyes with Sarah. “That’s a Dawnish city”, he added, unnecessarily but pointedly.
Sir Chester looked as though he suddenly had quite a lot more to say and quite a few questions on his mind, but after taking a moment to look back down at Sarah’s certificate with pursed lips his gaze returned to hers and he said only, “Explain this.”
Sarah stiffened in the candlelight. A mixture of embarrassment and indignation welled up inside of her. Knight or not, this man was obviously a soldier. In her experience, Vasili soldiers rarely gave Dawnish men any honor beyond that of their swords. She shuddered to think of the hundreds of her countrymen she had worked on under the tutelage of her masters. Most of them were barely more than boys. But no day had been so bloody as the Battle of the Chalk. Sarah briefly wondered if Sir Chester had been there all those years ago, and if so, how many fells of his sword she had stitched up and nursed to health for months afterward.
“I hardly see what requires an explanation…” She began defiantly, working to keep her voice even and without sarcasm. “I am in fact a Dawnish woman. I have spent these past three years in Vasili bringing mercy from The God of Light to those who call for it.”
“So you’re a missionary, then?” Chester asked, his tone of voice making it sound more like a statement than a question. A statement of a fact he found distasteful. Sir Chester was not fond of the Church of Light, and those of its members who came to his country for the express purpose of proselytizing and forcing their ways onto his countrymen could not expect a warm welcome from him.
Sarah nodded, extending her chin toward the ceiling slightly and standing to her full height. She could see that this was not a welcome revelation in the eyes of the man. The young healer was used to suspicion and even outright hatred once she identified as a missionary. And what’s more, a Dawnish missionary. But she had always had Cavil to lean on and do the majority of their speaking. She was after all, the healer more than the priest. It seemed now she would have to be both.
“You don’t sound Dawnish”, Chester observed laconically as his gaze returned to the certificate and the words on its page. He read more carefully this time, and after a moment he pulled his attention away from it again and handed the certificate back to Sarah. “This seems legitimate enough, I’ll grant you”, allowed Chester with obvious reluctance, “but what brings a Dawnish missionary here? What would motivate her to join the Consano?” His expression, though unfriendly, seemed genuinely curious as he awaited Sarah's answer.
The woman had prepared a half-true explanation for her hidden accent. Spending so much time in Vasili, some of its ways had shown themselves on her. However, the Knight seemed less interested in her answer than he did in the words on her certificate.
“…I’ll grant you. But what brings a Dawnish missionary here? What would motivate her to join the Consano?”
This time, instead of a skip, she felt in her heart a painful thud. “What would motivate a Dawnish missionary, indeed? Especially one of her age.” The answer was reason enough in her opinion, but she took one look at the Knight’s stern expression and decided that he was the least of people she would make herself vulnerable to. A pity, there was some part of her that longed to share her grief.
“My reasons are of a personal nature,” She began, “If I have your acceptance based upon merit alone then I’ll insist upon some level of privacy… out of respect.”
This moment would be telling to Sir Chester’s nature. Sarah waited quietly, crossing one arm over her chest defensively. Yet she continued her tall and practiced posture, concealing her uncertainty and sorrow.
The King’s Knight regarded the proud – yet somehow careworn and fragile-seeming – woman before him. She was Dawnish and a missionary of the Church of Light, two facts that ranked very low on the list of things Chester was comfortable with, but she was also a truly gifted healer and surgeon, and those were two things they could definitely use on their journey. He recalled the other skills she’d listed off and noted that those too would be useful as they traveled further north.
What really bothered Chester though was her insistence of privacy and of not sharing her full motivation for applying to the Consano. Almost despite himself he found that he believed her when she said that her motivations were personal; the expression on Sarah’s face was a proud and defiant one that gave no ground, but Chester could nonetheless detect something mournful underlying everything in the woman’s bearing. It was clear that the Plague – or events surrounding it – had done her wrong in some fashion. And yet… the woman had clearly not intended to reveal her origins to him, and Chester was not someone who appreciated it when people intentionally hid things from him.
Still regarding Sarah with eyes that gave away nothing, Chester suddenly looked away from her and expelled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and said, “Someone of your skills would be exceptionally useful to us in our endeavor…”
The young healer studied Sir Chester’s indecipherable face. Had she asked for too much? There was an awkward moment of silence between the two. He seemed to be searching her soul with his eyes. Sarah shifted weight ever so slightly to one side, and fought to maintain eye contact with the knight. She would show this man no weakness.
He paused briefly and, returning his eyes to hers, continued, “I’ll need to speak with the Lady Buxton about…”, and he waved one hand vaguely towards the certificate he’d just handed back to her (and all that its contents implied), “all of this. She will be the one to make the final decision, and will render it to you in the morning. I’ll be sure to mention your… requirements… concerning privacy to her.”
The young woman was distracted by the realization that Lady Buxton, rather than Sir Chester was the true leader of this Campaign. “A woman?” she wondered to herself. She did not notice that her visitor was still considering if he should say more.
“I’ll see myself out, goodnight Miss Payne.” He said finally, at once gaining Sarah’s full attention.
"Goodnight, Sir Chester" She answered back. The knight glanced over his shoulder at the young woman, gave a solid nod, then continued on his way. When the door was shut, Sarah was left with a lingering sense of exposure. For a moment she forgot her fatigue and made a few hurried paces about the small room, rubbing her hands together as she did. Would she be accepted on this mission? Did she even wish to be accepted? She didn’t know for certain.
The light of her lantern flickered as she swept about the room, casting thin shadows on the wooden walls. Outside an owl hooted, and Sarah remembered that this would be her last chance of civilized sleep for what might be a very long time.
