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Breakfast

Not to discuss, Preceptor’ said Bria and passed him the letter. He untied the string holding the piece of ancient parchment in a roll and read for a couple of minutes. ‘I see things have changed faster more than I thought. I will re-read this and reflect later. Valkyrs eh! I haven’t heard that word in centuries and even then, only in stories. What do you need?’

‘Proper beds, cleaning tools and lamps’ said Adelyn promptly. Nia shuffled nervously and said, ‘and two more lanterns for the Southern Hall.’

‘Lamps and lanterns will not be a problem, no more than the other requests which were already in hand. You will have to tell me more of this…’ the Preceptor stopped as Jemryn cautiously opened the door. ‘Are the others on their way Jemryn?’ He stood up. ‘Ladies, do you go down to the kitchen and bring up the food the cooks have put out for us. The sluggards can return the favour by clearing and sweeping the refectory while you make a start on your errands in the women’s barracks. Jemryn. Go with them but eat in the kitchen, not as punishment but for the sake of speed. When you get back, I will have messages for you to take.’

By the time Bria and the others got back to the refectory carrying a basket of cutlery and three trays of food, the young men and the knights had arrived. The Preceptor caught Sir Henrik’s eye and the knights stepped back to stand against the northern wall. Vann put his hand on the back of a chair and was about to sit down when the Preceptor cleared his throat and Vann whipped his hand back as though it had been stung. ‘It is not a competition and you are not late. However, on the morrow, four of you will be here first and prepare the refectory. Vann, Ragni, each pick one of your peers and you will clean today and fetch tomorrow. You others will take your turn. Now eat but go not over. Training will begin shortly, and we do not want vomiting.’

The food sent up by the kitchen was simple. There was fruit, long loaves of warm fresh bread, butter churned the day before, sharp cheese, cold thinly sliced beef and six large jugs of small beer had been spread out down the long refectory table. As the candidates moved to sit down, Sir Henrik called ‘Age before beauty. Everyone stand back.’ The knights placed themselves at intervals down the table forcing all the candidates to spread out and breaking up the three little teams before they could even start to form.

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The Preceptor nodded. ‘Carry on Sir Henrik. I have other matters I must attend to this morning. Ah Jemryn. Have you eaten sufficient?’ Jemryn, who had just come through the door very carefully, nodded, not taking his eyes off the tall, elegant jug on the tray he was carrying. ‘The cooks sent this up for you Sire... Preceptor’ he said. ‘It smells strange’

The Preceptor relieved Jemryn of the tray. ‘It’s coffee from Lulnun lad. Privileges of rank. Now, I believe your parents stayed here in their town house last night. Please would you tell your mother that, at her leisure, I would be glad of her advice.’ He carried the coffee jug over to a side table and then left through the door into the Southern Hall, returning a few minutes later with a writing case and settled down next to his coffee and started scratching away with a quill.

The palace bell tolled seven times and Sir Henrik clapped his hands. ‘You have had enough time. Finish up and we will make a start. Vann, your pick’

‘Tepani, sir.’ replied Vann indicating one of the guardsmen

‘Very good, Ragni?’

‘Um. Lord Hrafn sir.’ said Ragni.

‘Address the knights as sir and the Preceptor as Preceptor, no other titles amongst us here. It would be a wedge in the team before we even start and even as a Dragon Guard trainee, you are now probably equal in rank to the second son of a duke’

Vann, Ragni, Hrafn and Tepani started loading what was left of the food and utensils back onto the trays. On Sir Henrik’s instructions, they left the now half-full jugs of beer and the leather jacks on the table but took the rest back to the kitchen. Once the four boys were back from the kitchen, they filed into the Southern Hall and closed the heavy door behind them, leaving the refectory with only the scratch of the Preceptor’s quill to break the silence.

‘Pay attention.’ Sir Bern barked. ‘The Preceptor runs the guard. Sir Henrick is his second in command. I run the training. All of you are reasonably fit and we have reviewed your training records. Yes, we do keep records on most notable people in the city, just in case we need to raise a militia so that we can assign squads and commanders’ He thumped his halberd into the floor. ‘This has become a symbol of our office, but we use it because its an extremely effective weapon. You can attack horsemen, penetrate a dragon’s hide and pull burning thatch from a cottage, all with this tool. That said, we will train you with and against every weapon that we know of. Maces, flails, swords bows, spears, everything. The first, and simplest weapon is the staff’. He pointed to a corner of hall next to the boy’s barracks where Sir Bjarne had just set down a barrel ’Each of you fetch one, and we will begin.’