"That's blackmail, Tarrin," Faalken said with a chuckle.
"That's an ugly word for it, Faalken," Tarrin said with a very slight smile. "True, but ugly. I prefer to call it standing up for my rights as an Initiate."
"I can commend your resolve, but not your methods, Tarrin," Darvon said. "To threaten violence to get your way is unseemly. It's not the Knightly way."
"It's all I have, my Lord General," he shrugged. "It's not what I wanted to do either, but it's already clear that the Council won't listen to me, and they don't care about what I want or need. My father was injured the other day, and I don't know if he's alright, because I can't leave the grounds. I want to see him. I want off these grounds. Them pinning me in here upsets the Cat within me, and that makes it alot harder for me to keep my inner balance. Eventually, I'm going to lose control of myself and snap, and someone is going to get hurt. But they don't understand that. My kind can't stand being caged," he said with his eyes igniting from within with their unholy greenish radiance, the clear sign that a Were-cat was getting angry.
"Tarrin, son, calm down," Darvon said soothingly, putting his toughened hand on Tarrin's shoulder. "I'll go have a talk with the Council. They'll listen to me. They'd better listen to me," he said in a dangerous voice. "I'll make sure they understand that you're doing it for your own well being and the safety of everyone around you, not because you're feeling snippish."
Tarrin blew out his breath. "Thanks, my Lord General," he said gratefully. "I need someone to stick up for me. I've been feeling abused."
"You're one of us, Tarrin," Darvon said bluntly. "We are all One Under Karas. You have the entire Order of Karas behind you, and they will listen when I make that clear to them." He smiled grimly. "I don't think they want the Order to walk out on strike as well. What is good for you, is good for us. If you strike, then so shall we."
Tarrin gave him a strangled look, then he burst out laughing. "You'd do that for me?" he asked between peals of laughter.
"We wear brands, don't we?" Darvon replied with a smile. "You forget what being One Under Karas means, my boy. We are all one, and what affects one affects us all. What one does, if he acts in the Knightly way, is done by all. I find honor in your strike, my boy. You're trying a non-violent means to reach a much needed goal. That's very chivilrous, because you're thinking more of the well being of those around you than you are of yourself. That's very commendable." He gave Tarrin an evil grin. "If they don't treat you as they treat other Initiates, and allow you off the grounds, then all Knights will be recalled to the chapterhouse, and no Knight will accompany any katzh-dashi until our demands are met."
Faalken was actually rolling around on the ground, lost to gales of howling mirth. "They'll have a cow!" Faalken gasped. "Oh, take me with you, Lord General!" he wheezed. "I have to see the look on the Keeper's face!"
"Not if you're going to roll around in the mud like a pig," Darvon said to him bluntly.
"Isn't that violating the covenant that binds the Knights to the Tower?" Tarrin asked seriously.
"Not at all," he replied with that same evil grin. "There are clear strictures that say that no Knight will be sacrificed, left for dead, or abused by the actions of the Tower. Well, they're abusing you with this treatment, and the Knights call you one of their own."
"But I'm not a true Knight," Tarrin protested. "That's a sticking point, my Lord General."
Darvon drew his sword. "Kneel!" he said in a thundering voice, a voice that made Tarrin instantly and unthinkingly go down on one knee. "By the power vested in my by Karas, god of Law, god of Duty, patron god of Sulasia, as is my right as the Lord General of the Holy Militant Order of the Knights of Karas, I decree that Tarrin Kael has proven his worth to Sulasia, to the Knights, and to Karas. I knight thee, Sir Tarrin Kael, Baron of Aldreth, keeper of the codes of the Covenant, Knight of the Order, defender of the faith, and hammer of Karas." The sword touched him on each shoulder. "Rise, and know that you are One Under Karas."
Tarrin stood up slowly, staring at Darvon in shock.
"And keep in mind that I never made you swear any oaths of obedience," Darvon winked. "You're officially a Knight, but remember that you can break our rules any time you see fit. I think I'll give you a new title. I think your official position will be as Knight Champion, a lone Knight who serves nobody but the Lord General. And as Lord General, I hereby order you to do whatever you want."
Tarrin gaped at Darvon. Faalken got up off the ground, brushing sand out of his mail shirt, his merry eyes literally dancing with mirth. "Well, let me be the first to welcome you, brother Tarrin," Faalken grinned. "Does this mean he outranks me?" he asked of Darvon.
"Yes!" Darvon replied vehemently.
"Well, you don't have to get snippy," Faalken teased his superior.
"Bring that she-devil here, Tarrin," Darvon said. "Let's make her a Knight Champion as well. She's already one of us, so let's make it an official title."
"Yes, my Lord General," Tarrin said woodenly, rushing off to do his bidding.
Knight Champion. When Tarrin was back home, before the festival, all he ever dreamed of was becoming a Knight. Of enduring the grueling training, of showing he was worth the title, of proving that he could be one of the elite, the best of the best. The standards of promotion to the spurs weren't about piety, or even about theological ground. The Knights were warriors, and their prime requirement was fighting ability. Only the best fighters in Sulasia, or the ones with the most potential, lasted long enough to reach the point where they could be considered, and not all of them won spurs. Because of this, the Order looked the other way when it came to which god the Knight worshipped. The Knights were a militant arm of the church of Karas, but their decreed position as defenders of the katzh-dashi made it a less pious order than other militant arms of the church. They had services and went through the motions of being a holy order of Karas, but over half of the Knights never showed up for services. And this was allowed. Being a Knight only meant that if Karas ordered them to go somewhere, they had to obey, no matter which god they truly worshipped, because Karas was the sponsor of the order. And that was it.
Tarrin was a Knight. The dream that had occupied so many of his afternoons, teased him in his dreams, caused his mind to drift from the daily chores on the farm, it had come true. Not in the way he thought it would but had come to pass. Tarrin had knelt before the Lord General, and had been touched by the sword. Darvon had named him Baron of Aldreth, and that was expected. All Knights were instantly given titles of aristocracy. Tarrin was a Baron, a noble, the instant Darvon decreed it to be so. Darvon had that power, usually a power only available to the King. But Tarrin's title brought with it no land, no revenues. It was a title in title only. That was the tradeoff for Darvon's ability to grant titles, he could grant no land and no money. Tarrin's name would be entered into the rolls of the Knights, and would thus be officially recognized as aristocracy. The only advantage that would give him would be that he was exempt from taxes. He would never have to pay a brass bit in taxes in the kingdom of Sulasia. It was a dream come true, a dream he had all but forgotten in the chaos that had become his life after leaving Aldreth. Knight. He was a Knight. He was what he had always wanted to be, and for some strange reason, despite his situation, he found tremendous comfort and a sense of accomplishment in it.