Things were not going well for Jona. They were going terribly. As soon as their bout started, Jona launched herself at Sirus, aiming to defeat him swiftly and put an end to the match, for she knew that she could never hope to outmatch him in a pure test of endurance or strength. While by no means weak, Jona was to Sirus what a gnat was to a lion. The taciturn Sirus was the logger’s son and had undoubtedly spent hours hauling wood around, and as such, Jona decided that he could probably crush her head just by flexing his biceps. He had deflected her first strike and stepped back to avoid a following swipe. Now he advanced, swinging his sword the way one might swing a hatchet, and Jona did her best to parry or dodge each attack, all while retreating to try to create space for a counterattack, but Sirus was relentless in his assault, and soon Jona felt her arms growing sluggish and numb. As Sirus’ sword came down in an arc that would have surely given her a concussion, she closed her eyes and waited for the brutal impact. There came a sound like lightning splitting a tree in two, and all was silent, at least for the moment.
“Are you alright?” came a familiar voice, and Jona opened her eyes to find that the speaker was Alex. He looked down at her worriedly, and beside him stood Franco, the same worried expression also present on his face. They held their swords aloft together, crossing them to form an X-shape. Behind them, Sirus looked on, his face the very image of surprise, as the blow that was supposed to finish Jona was caught in the intersection of Franco and Alex’s blades.
“Hey!” came the knight commander’s angry voice, “What do you think you’re doing? I could have you court-martialed for this!”
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“But sir,” shouted back Alex, “isn’t it a knight’s duty to the weak?” With a wink, glanced at Jona and added “And the beautiful.” Hearing this, Jona threw up a little in her mouth.
“I agree,” said Franco helpfully, “about the knight’s duty and beautiful part, not the court-martialling part.”
“Shut up both of you!”, roared the knight commander as he advanced on them. Jona couldn’t help but think that he resembled an enraged warthog as he marched over to shout at them from a lesser distance.
After so much shouting that Franco was grateful his ears still worked, the two newly accepted (and reprimanded) cadets were given the thankless task of latrine digging whenever they set up camp for the duration of the journey back to the Duke’s city of Vontel. As for the rest of the aspiring cadets, Sirus was given the same offer that Franco and Alex had received, while Jona and John were given provisional acceptance, which meant that they were accepted until the end of their first year, after which they would be once again tested to see if they would remain cadets.
The knights sent them back to the village, where they were given one more day to say goodbye to their families and their homes. Franco’s mother cried and cried as she hugged him, and made him promise to write every week and to come home for the holidays if he was given a chance. Alex, Jona, and the others were met with similar shows of affection and motherly concern, and the town celebrated the five for their achievements. The five of them departed the celebration early to sleep, however, as they were knackered by the day’s events, and the knight commander had said that the knights were leaving at first light, with or without them. And so the five who were chosen slept.