Page 3 of Honorable Convictions
Chapter 2
Pierson Murphy lay perfectly still as he tried not to do anything that would make the room whirl. It was his last day of rest before his rigorous training was set to begin, and he’d yet to leave his dorm. Both Venerable Knight Vann Ruarc and Venerable Knight Roman Calixtus had helped him get from where he’d been resurrected to his current position on the bed. His bladder was the only thing that forced him to move—or if he had to throw up, which was far more often than he’d like to admit.
Although he’d been told that every fallen knight adjusted differently, it was horribly embarrassing to have been dependent on his superiors as his knees had been too weak to hold his weight. If that were not mortifying enough, he hadn’t met the other recruits in his class. There were five other people, but the only one he was familiar with was his roommate, Wade, and they hadn’t talked much. Wade had no reason to sit around and watch him, so he’d taken off to hang out in the space occupied by the two women that, like him, had the rank of one.
Everyone, barring Pierson, had spent the bulk of their relaxation period grouped up. They took meals together while Pierson had trays sent to him by the VKs with bland items—most of which he couldn’t stomach. Although it was a comfort to Pierson that his bosses did not fault him, he refused to let himself off the hook so easily. There was a window in the early afternoons where the pain in his head relented, so Pierson read through the thick manual which prepared him for his new life.
It was Wade who’d gone to pick up Pierson’s uniforms and textbooks. Guilt flowed over Pierson despite Wade having to make the trip for himself anyway. The last thing he wanted to do was start out his immortality being a burden on those around him, but what choice was he given? His mind had crystallized on a single point: when classes started the next morning, Pierson would push himself as hard as possible. No one could have a good opinion of him, and he had to do something—anything—to fix that. Rolling to his side, he was grateful that no nausea accompanied the motion. Despite his frustration, there were signs that he was improving. Pierson remained still for several minutes, waiting for a reaction that never materialized. With a grim smile, he rose to a sitting position.
Not willing to risk adverse effects, he made the move as slow and steady as possible. There was a small rush of success as the walls around him wavered for mere seconds. Taking no chances, Pierson was content to maintain his pose and not attempt to stand yet. Rushing worked against him, and this was the longest he’d been nearly out of bed since the VKs had helped him stagger to it.
The door opened while Pierson pondered about whether to get out a book and prepare for the rigors ahead.
“Hey, you’re up,” Wade remarked, sauntering in. The red-haired fallen knight was a mystery to Pierson. Rarely together, they’d learned nothing and had yet to build a friendship.
“I am.”
“Do you need the bucket?”
On the first day, Pierson had been unable to always make it to the attached restroom and had required a pail that he used to empty his stomach. It was futile to be mad about such things, but Pierson was irritated that he required so much assistance and that Wade was the one who’d had to clean up after him when he retched into the container. “My stomach is calm.”
“Good, because I have to tell you, the stuff that came out of you was pretty vile.”
“My apologies.”
Wade shrugged. “We’re fallen knights, we’ll see worse.”
“Undoubtedly true, but I am supposed to be on the side of protecting and defending others, not needing someone to help me with the most basic tasks.”
“Once your resurrection sickness passes, it won’t be something you have to worry about again. We can’t get any illnesses.”
“Which is something I’m eternally grateful for.”
“It’s too bad you’re not getting the opportunity to hang out with everyone. We’ve got a good team. A competitive one, and Mitchell is determined to beat us all.”
Pierson had the most to prove, and he didn’t care how ready for action Mitchell was, there was no way he’d let anyone surpass his scores. Prepared for a difficult road ahead, he was going to push himself to the limit. The last thing he wanted was for the Arch Lich, Reverent Knight, or Venerable Knights to regret giving him this chance. “Are you studying together?”
“Not much. We’re supposed to be relaxing, and that’s what we’re trying to do. There’s going to be plenty of time to bury our noses in textbooks.”
It was a relief to know he wasn’t already far behind, at least in that regard. “I have managed to get through the training manual.”
“I read that on the first day while you were still puking.”
“My head was pained, not allowing me to focus on words,” Pierson muttered, abashed at being reminded of his temporary frailty.
“Are you going to come to the dining hall for lunch, so you can at least see what it looks like before tomorrow?”
When Pierson thought about food, a queasiness stole over him. “I think I will stick to the water and biscuits that the VKs had delivered.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Enjoy your meal,” Pierson told him on his way out.
Grabbing his glass of water, he frowned at the sense of isolation. Pierson picked up a textbook and promised himself he’d spend the rest of the day without resting, vowing to finish a chapter. After a snack of crackers, he’d return to reading. They were baby steps, but it was progress. By evening, Pierson was going to get familiar with the facility he’d call home for the next eight weeks. With the intention of receiving the rarest of assignments, his next residence would be someplace nearby. Only a handful of recruits went straight to the Order of the Fallen Knights Headquarters a few miles away, and Pierson was committed to being added to that exalted list.
∞∞∞
Mitchell trooped into the space shared by Trista and Darcie with his roommate, Clayland. It was where he’d spent most of his time since his resurrection, and he’d gotten to know the other recruits, barring the mysterious Pierson, who was too ill to join them.
