Translated From Sarconian Scout

Jasper was going to his first class the next day when he was stopped in the hall by a page.  "The Council has sent for you," said the page.

Jasper didn't know what to think as he followed the boy out of Scout Headquarters, across the gardens and into the palace.  Being sent for by the Council either meant something very good or very bad for a student.  He entered the huge doors, stopped in the center of the mosaic map on the floor, and bowed towards the empty thrones that stood right across from the doors in respect for the absent king and queen. 

"Jasper Watson," said one of the  council members in a deep voice,  "Jonathan Carzim spoke to us about your conduct during the exercise yesterday."

Jasper shifted his feet nervously.

"Jonathan said that you kept your head through the entire situation.  The others who witnessed it agree that you showed a high level of conduct."

There was more to this than the council's approval of his actions, Jasper knew, but he wasn't sure where it was going.  "Thank you sir," he said, not sure how to respond.

"Because of this, we believe that you are ready to enter your Junior Scouthood."

Jasper's eyes grew wide, and he barely kept his jaw from dropping.

"You have been doing well in your classes, and we believe that you are ready for practical application of what you have learned.  Finish your classes today and meet Jonathan Carzim in the south courtyard at four 0'clock.  Jonathan will be your tutor and he will prepare you for your first real mission with him during the next few days."

Jasper was having difficulty putting even two words together. "South courtyard, four o'clock," he managed to repeat, trying to get his vocabulary back.  "I'll be there.  Thank you."

"Godspeed," the council member said, signaling that the brief meeting was over.

Jasper bowed towards the thrones once again, turned, and left, heart pounding and ears ringing, not certain whether to be excited or terrified. 

 

"Are you alright?" Jonathan asked Jasper when he appeared in the south courtyard.

Jasper blinked.  "What do you mean?"

"You look like you just got a blow over the head that didn't quite knock you out and stunned you instead."

"Well," said Jasper, "I wasn't exactly expecting this."

"It generally comes as a surprise to everyone, because the time is different for everyone.  Our first mission starts in three days, so you have that long to decide whether or not this is what you want to do and get ready."

When he returned home that evening, Jasper did not go directly to the farmhouse after he put Thunder up in the stable.  Instead, he walked a short ways into the woods and sat down under a tree beside a creek.  He had much to think about.  It was almost two years since he had come to the mountains.  He was fifteen now and had come to consider himself a Sarconian.   He wanted to pursue becoming a Scout, but there was another part of him that wanted to go back to the plains and find his sister.

Sister.  Kaia.  A ghost of another life.  A year ago he would have gone  back to her, but he was too far removed now.  Her tug on his heart was almost non-existent and easily brushed aside.  Jasper fingered the ruby studded ring that he wore on a chain around his neck; now his only tangible link to the plains.  The promise that went with the ring, the promise that he had made to release Misty for her engagement to him when he was old enough, wasn't due for another two years.  Kaia's memory vanished from his mind, and Jasper was decided.  He would pursue his training as a Scout.  He got up and went back to the brightly lit farmhouse.

 

Jasper left Sarconia City in the predawn darkness, riding silently at Jonathan's side.  Both were dressed in forest green and leather, the garb of all Scouts.  Jonathan's cowl hid his face in its shadowy green depths, and Jasper's face was hidden much the same way.  They were headed for Underwood Scout Station where they would make contact with the Scout they were replacing and get information on what had developed during the past week or so.

They reached Underwood Scout Station at sunset.  Jasper gazed around in delight.  The Scout Stations were havens for the Scouts, and Underwood was unique in its design.  The stables were built into a small hill, but the rest of the station was a series of connected tree houses.  Jonathan and Jasper took their unicorns to the stables, then entered the trunk of one of the huge trees, climbing the spiral staircase that led through a trapdoor into the main room. 

The room was softly lit with lanterns that hung from the ceiling.  All the windows were open, and branches stuck their leafy boughs though them, providing natural canopies for the tables that sat bolted to the floor.  There were benches by the tables instead of chairs, and these were also bolted to the floor.  As a matter of fact, everything was bolted down except for the wooden dishes on the tables, and they were set into dents to keep them from sliding around.    The whole room swayed gently with the motion of the tree.  Jasper walked carefully, watching out for the swinging lanterns.

"Jonathan!" The station master's wife called.  "I see you have a new student."

Jonathan smiled.  "Yes, I do.  This is Jasper Watson."

The station master's wife fluttered over both boys for a short time, patting them on the head (though she had to stand on tiptoe to do so) and scolding gently as she led them over to a table.  The woman vanished for a moment, then reappeared, somehow balancing two wooden bowls of thick venison stew and mugs of hot cider which she placed in front of them.  Finishing off her motherly duties by giving Jasper a peck on the top of his head, the woman began bustling around the room again.

"Is she always like this?" Jasper asked Jonathan in an undertone.

Jonathan nodded.  "She sees every Scout in the Order as one of her children and treats them as such."

At this moment, Joshuel came up through the trapdoor.  The station master's wife descended on him, calling his name, patting his shoulder and scolding him for not combing his hair.  Joshuel promised to comb his hair at the next opportunity, then spotted Jonathan and Jasper and came over to them.

"How is it going?" Jonathan asked his brother.

"Not much is going on," Joshuel replied.  "An Aranaran scout here and there, but no real movement or raids."  Joshuel leaned back slightly as the station master's wife set a bowl of stew and some cider in front of him.

"Hmm..." said Jonathan thoughtfully.   "That probably means that - "  He looked at Jasper to finish the sentence.

"They're getting ready for another series of raids?"  Jasper finished cautiously.

Jonathan nodded.  "Or one big raid.  Either way, we'd better stay on our toes."  Jonathan sipped at his cider, grimacing as it burned his tongue.

Jasper, forewarned, blew on the surface of his cider a few times before carefully tasting it.  Joshuel lifted his eyebrows at Jonathan and Jonathan nodded, ever so slightly, in reply.  Jasper, without knowing it, had passed a small test.  Jonathan had burned his tongue on purpose to see if Jasper would notice and not make the same 'mistake'.

They started eating.  Jonathan and Joshuel continued making signals to each other, carrying on a conversation all their own without Jasper's knowledge.

Joshuel, with the excuse of scratching his scalp, inclined his head towards Jonathan.  You have a way of reading people easily.  I never would have picked him out this quickly.

Jonathan spread a hand, looking at his fingernails.  We will see how well I have read him.  He looked at his palm, then the back of his hand.  Mock missions and real missions are two different things.

Joshuel tugged at his ear.  Perhaps so.  He lifted his eyebrows and cocked his head.  What about The Incident?

Jonathan leaned on the table.  Why do you think I chose him?  He bit at his fingernails.  But I am worried about this mission.

Joshuel looked into his stew and put one finger on his chin.  Because it is his first?  He dropped his hand to the table somewhat heavily.  And not exactly easy? 

Jonathan flicked his fingers as if he were flicking water at someone.  Exactly.

Joshuel spun his mug slowly.  He'll make it.  Reaching up, he rubbed his temple.  He's got brains.

Jonathan stuck a bite of stew in his mouth.  "Mmh."  He certainly does.

Jasper, not noticing anything special about the gestures passing between his mentor and his mentor's brother, wondered what he would be expected to do on the mission.  He didn't think that he knew that much, and the entire task was daunting to him.  He wondered how Jonathan felt.  Is he just as nervous?  Jasper doubted that.

Jonathan lifted his spoon in front of his face and watched the steam drifting up from it.  Life as a Scout was so unpredictable.  He didn't know what would turn up next, and with an inexperienced student with him, he wasn't entirely happy about where he was being placed.  But you simply didn't argue with the Council over that.  They believed in Jasper, and Jonathan knew that he must believe in Jasper as well if the boy was to believe in himself.  Still, Jonathan wished that they had an easier assignment.

 

The bedroom swayed slightly, causing Jasper to stumble as he headed towards the bunk bed.  Jonathan moved much more comfortably; only the bigger heaves threw him off balance.  The wind was picking up - they both could feel it.  Jasper scrambled onto the top bunk, grateful for the handholds on the wall.

Jonathan looked up at him.  "There should be some heavy netting hooked on the ceiling.  Pull it down and hook it onto the bunk.  With the wind like it is, this room will start tossing, and I've been flung on the floor before.  It's not very pleasant."

Jasper nodded and grabbed the net, pulling it down.  There were several hooks, and he stretched the net to meet them.  On the lower bunk, Jonathan was doing the same thing.  The lamp flickered out at a gust of breath from Jonathan, and the room was dark, save for the moonlight.

Jasper was awakened that morning when the tree-house heaved in the wind, throwing him against the netting, then slamming him into the wall.  Below him, Jonathan tumbled out onto the floor, flopping like a fish deprived of the water in which it swims.  Jasper half-fell-half-climbed off the top bunk and managed, with much rolling around and grunting, to get his boots on.  After falling into the wall and each other a few times, Jonathan and Jasper got the door open and ventured out onto the bouncing suspension bridge that connected them to the main room.  Clinging to the rope railings, they made it across, hearts pounding.

The main room was more stable, but they still had some difficulty eating because of 'tree-sickness', as one slightly green Scout termed it, and the fact that the dishes were always trying to slide of the table.

Joshuel was already there, getting scolded once more for the unkept appearance of his hair which he finger-combed.  Jasper chased his oatmeal to the other side of the table and managed to get a spoonful before the bowl started to slide away again.    It was no time for being shy, considering the fact that everyone was falling all over the room.  Jasper's feet somehow got out from under him, and he was on the floor before he knew it, getting tangled up with another Scout that he didn't know.  They apologized to each other and were starting to get up when another Scout came rolling across the floor and crashed into them, creating a confused mass of arms, legs, and laughter.  Jasper heard Jonathan's voice dryly tell Joshuel, "You're getting too old to sit in my lap, little bro," and looked up to see that Jonathan had somehow retained his seat on the bench, although Joshuel had been slung across the room by a gust of wind and was now sitting on him. Grabbing the edge of the table, Jasper scrambled onto the bench next to his mentor and managed to get his bowl of oatmeal under control and finish eating it before he was once again thrown across the room.

After much tumbling about and stepping on people's toes, Jonathan and Jasper managed to get to the trapdoor.  They descended carefully down the slightly swaying spiral staircase and entered out into the driving wind.  The boys wrapped themselves more tightly in their cloaks and bowed their heads against the wind as they trudged to the stables.  The wind abruptly cut off as the entered the warm, hay-filled dugout.   Their unicorns, Syliva and Thunder, trotted from their stalls, nickering to their masters.  Jasper rubbed Thunder's nose.  "It's pretty wild out there," he said softly.

Thunder shook his mane without concern and nipped at Jasper's collar.  From the beginning of their relationship, Thunder had showed his affection for Jasper by gently nipping the boy's collar.  Jasper smiled as the unicorn snuffled against his neck, warming it.  He threw a saddle over the unicorn's back and tightened the straps, then added the fully packed saddlebags.  He and Jonathan led their unicorns from the stables into the wind and mounted, riding south.

 

The rain set in half an hour after they set out.  It sheeted down violently, soaking them through, and the thunder crashed and rolled off the mountainsides around them, drowning out all other sounds.  Jasper glanced around, feeling vulnerable and nervous.  Jonathan looked like he was trying to see everything at once.  The young mentor's lips were set in a thin line.  What a way to start the week, Jonathan thought.  The Aranara possibly on the move, a rainstorm drowning out most sounds and lowering visibility, and an inexperienced student by my side to look after.  He shook his head slightly.  Jasper was a promising student, but he didn't have field experience.  Jonathan had a very bad feeling about this.

"EEEEAK!!  Ong gong ksssssss....."  The bushes snapped back, and a kryser appeared, wailing and hissing at them.  The unicorns reared frantically as the boys fought to stay seated.  Jasper's mouth was dry, and Jonathan saw that the boy's eyes were wide with horror.  Jonathan remembered Melissa's reaction to her first sight of a kryser and fervently hoped that Jasper would keep his head better than Melissa had. 

Jasper was shaking, for he knew that only an archer could fight a kryser, and his bowstring was wet, as was Jonathan's.  The wind would have done a great deal to render their shooting useless even if their bows were in action.  It, Jasper thought, was hopeless.  Thunder neighed and reared again as the spider lunged at them.  Jasper, compelled by his sixth sense, flung himself from the saddle.  Thunder raced away for a short time, but stopped while still in sight.  Jasper dodged the spider's attack, wondering how long his trembling legs would support him.  Jonathan had also leaped from his saddle.  The boys dodged and rolled, and finally Jonathan managed to leap on top of the kryser, clinging to the matted hair as the spider shrieked and plunged about.  Jasper, though he knew the attempt was useless save for diversion, drew his sword and struck the spider on the leg.  Forgetting Jonathan, the kryser turned its attention to Jasper.  The boy trembled, terrified as he danced about, raining ineffectual blows in a desperate attempt to give Jonathan time to carry out his plan.  At least, Jasper thought that Jonathan had a plan.

Jonathan did have a plan.  While Jasper distracted the spider, he shifted his position, drawing his sword as he did so.  Jonathan wished that he could use his hunting knife for this job, but he wanted to penetrate to the creature's brain and did not dare take the risk of using a shorter blade.  Gritting his teeth, he plunged the sword into the kryser's eye and leaped free of the over-sized arachnid as it screamed wildly.  Slowly, the legs folded and the beast sunk to the ground, dead.

Jonathan, who had slipped on wet ferns and fallen to the ground as he landed, looked up for a moment, then dropped his face against the ground, trying to stop shaking.  No matter how many times he saw the spiders, no matter how many times he fought them, he was still unnerved by their size and ferocity.  Jasper was half-curled on the ground, hands over his ears to shut out the creature's dying screams, trying to get a hold on himself.  Jonathan climbed to his feet and went over to Jasper, laying a hand on the other boy.  "You okay?" he asked, trying to make his voice firm and confident.

Jasper uncurled.  "I think so.  That thing is the stuff of nightmares!"

Jonathan helped him to his feet.  "No kidding.  At least they're not invincible."

"Yeah," said Jasper, watching Jonathan retrieve his sword.  Thunder trotted back to his side, and Jasper stroked the unicorn's neck, calming himself.  Edging carefully towards him, Thunder used the tip of his horn to shove a wet strand of hair off Jasper's face.  Jasper did not flinch as the sharp horn brushed him, long since accustomed to its touch.

They mushed through the mud all day, splattering themselves from the knees down with the muck when they walked.  Jasper's boots sucked against the mud.  He glanced uncomfortably behind him.  Their footprints were clear impressions in the ground that were slowing filling with rain water.  "Jonathan, we're not exactly hiding our trail very well," he said softly.

Rain water trickled down Jonathan's face from his hair as he turned to Jasper.  "There's no way to hide the trail unless the rain washes the tracks away.  If we're discovered, we're discovered."

Jasper turned back to look at their back trail.  "Aranara?"

"Yeah."

"Thane?"  Jasper addressed Jonathan by his nickname, "Why do the Aranara hate us?"

"They want the land," said Jonathan.

"Do they not have enough land for themselves?"

Jonathan shook his head.  "They have a kingdom that is a big as the Corvanie empire.  But they still want more land."

Jasper shook his head, not certain what to say.  He was not a simple person, but he had very simple wants.  Like being dry, he thought, shrugging his shoulders against his sodden clothing.  He wasn't exactly certain that he entirely understood why a people with a kingdom so huge would want more land and subjects.  Perhaps, he decided, There is some kind of competition between the kings as to who have the biggest and wealthiest kingdoms.  Competition was something he understood.  There were running competitions at Scout Headquarters as to who was the best at various arts.  Jasper, young though he was, was coming quite close to being recognized as one of the top swordsmen there.  It was a position that he had to fight for and defend, though in a friendly way.   He now voiced his thought on the competition between kingdoms to Jonathan.

Jonathan shrugged at the idea.  "May not be so far from the truth," he said.  "Arnia, or Aranar as the people who live there call it, could be wealthy, but it's poorly managed.  I guess they have to make up for their poor showing of wealth with a big showing of land and aggression.  Either way, they like nothing better than harassing us."

They made their camp in a cave.  The unicorns were to one side, huddled together and much happier now that they had been rubbed down by their loyal masters.  Jasper watched the rain water running over the entrance of the cave for a moment as he set down some firewood in the fire pit that had been dug.  A supply of wood was always kept in the cave against rainy weather.  After a few strikes with his flint and steel, Jasper had the fire started.  He and Jonathan, drenched, huddled close to it, trying to get warm.  They had laid their thick cloaks aside, and their thinner clothes did not take too long to dry.  They ate a stew that they had mixed from jerky and dried herbs.  There was a supply of forage for the unicorns, and the animals gladly partook in it.

Jasper liked the footing that he and Jonathan were on.  The two boys were comfortable around each other.  Jonathan would frequently call Jasper 'Jasi', and, just as frequently, Jasper would call Jonathan 'Thane'.  They waited for the cloaks to dry before they went to bed.  Jonathan had cut several pine branches while Jasper started the fire, and they were now dry.  The boys laid the branches in a pile, spread blankets over them, and curled up under their cloaks and more blankets, sleeping back-to-back for warmth.  Jasper never ceased to  be amazed at how much warmer he was when he slept back-to-back with someone.  It was a basic survival technique that was taught early on in Scout training and it was used frequently. 

Jasper dropped off quickly.  The smell of evergreen was soothing and familiar to him, along with the scent of woodsmoke.  Jack, with whom Jasper had been sharing the corn-husk mattress in the attic for almost two years, was a wild sleeper who talked, snored and kicked Jasper out of the bed without ever waking up himself.  Jasper had gotten to the point where he could sleep through nearly anything.  Jonathan, on the other hand, slept like a log, perhaps moving once or twice during the night, so he could hardly keep Jasper awake.

 

Jasper awoke the next morning feeling uneasy.  Jonathan too was jittery, often looking towards the entrance of the cave and muttering to himself.  As they packed up camp, Jasper's eye caught a movement and he swiftly knocked an arrow and pulled it to half-draw, yelling an incoherent warning to Jonathan.  Jonathan sprang to his feet, bow in hand, as the Aranara emerged from the forest and ducked into cover.  Jasper quickly sought his own cover - a rock outcropping that he, on instruction from Jonathan, had chosen the night before - remaining on the open for no more than a few seconds.  His eyes probed the bushes, searching for a target.  Jonathan had also taken cover, and he had already shot down two of the Aranara.  Jasper saw a raider rise for a moment and dash to another spot of cover behind a bush.  Pulling back his arrow, he sighted down the shaft and launched it into the bush.  It struck home and the man collapsed.

The Aranara crept closer, using the brush and the dead bodies of their comrades as shields.  Jonathan picked them off methodically, and Jasper helped his mentor where he could, although he did not yet have Jonathan's keen sight and steady hand.  The skirmish was short, fierce, and quickly came to hand-to-hand combat.  As the raiders came closer, Jasper smoothly slung his bow over his shoulders and grabbed his sword, feeling more confident.  This was the kind of combat he preferred - blade to blade, skill against skill, no sulking behind trees and bushes, no wondering whether his target would move before he could hit it with an arrow, just clean and fast movement.  Deft and relaxed, Jasper faced his opponents coolly as he raised the tip of his sword, then swung at the raiders.  None stood before his blade. 

The fight did not last long after Jasper got his sword out.  He turned as the dust settled and saw that Jonathan had taken a prisoner, a boy who did not look much past fifteen or sixteen.  He cowered away from the two Scouts, whimpering and begging for mercy in an obscure tribal tongue that Jasper, to his shock, recognized.

"SyDow?" Jasper asked quickly.

The boy looked up at him.  "Da," he said shakily, meaning 'yes'.

"Do you speak the common tongue?" asked Jonathan.

The boy made no answer, only looked quite confused.

"Apparently not," said Jonathan.  "How much of the SyDow language do you remember, Jasper?"

"Enough to communicate fluently," Jasper replied.

"Good," said Jonathan.  "If you could translate...Is this the only raiding party sent into the north Sarcos?"

Jasper relayed the question to the boy.  "Zen," the boy replied.

Jasper looked at Jonathan.  "No."

"As I thought," said Jonathan.  "How many were sent?

The boy shrugged as Jasper translated the question and replied that he did not know the exact number, only that there were many raiders.

Jonathan nodded.  "Alright then."  He asked a few more questions, but the boy knew little.  Jonathan finally ended his inquiry.  "Go now," he told the boy gently.  The boy hesitated, then fled.

Jasper knew that he, if he were in Jonathan's place, would have let the boy go, but he still had to ask, "If he tells them about us?"

Jonathan shrugged.  "They won't know anything they don't know already, really."