Spring 4985, 18 Buromoth

The road to Hamerfoss was north out of Smilnda. By horse, the journey took only two days, one and a half if ridden hard. By foot, it generally took four days, but escorting a heavily loaded wagon would take the squires six.

On the first day out, Thom and Rerves released their excited energy through constant chatter. Talking about how happy they were to finally be on their way to real training. Occasionally Shon would join in.

On the second day, they spoke about how much easier it would be to concentrate without the girls around. Shon didn’t join much in this conversation.

On the third day, they confessed to missing Daisy and Ania. Suspecting they missed the conversation, Shon attempted to chime in more often.

The fourth and fifth days were plagued with spring rain, and the boys did little more than complain, particularly about their new leather armor chafing when wet. Shon couldn't help but grumble in affirmation. He'd hated the armor from the first day.

The sixth, and final, day saw a stop to the rain. The boys spent their walk beside the wagon carefully dodging puddles after Thom submerged his entire boot in one deeper than expected. There was very little talking between them now, all three too nervous and excited for their imminent arrival.

The road outside the city had been the only part with flat fields and open skies on either side. For the rest, they'd traveled through forest, with only the occasional clearing maintained explicitly for travelers to camp. Tall evergreens growing close together blocked the view of anything beyond the road at their feet, giving Shon and the others very little to look at as they marched.

Two sturdy horses pulled the wagon of supplies for the fortress. Barrels of food and crates of scrap metal as well as sacks of letters and the Squire's personal bags, weighed down the laden wagon, the wheels carving deep channels in the muddy road.

Shon had already sketched the wagon, the horses, the Paladin driving them, and his fellow Squires many times over. He even managed a few landscape drawings, for lack of better subjects. He had no idea how the other two managed to calm their excitement before sleep. Perhaps that was why they talked so much every night.

Walking ahead of him, Rerves readjusted the hilt of his short sword while Shon pulled at the neck of his armor for what seemed like the hundredth time each. They hadn’t been trained in the proper use of either, and Shon wondered again why the Paladins had insisted the Squires wear them. They'd been ordered to guard the wagon, but who would be stupid enough to waylay a Temple cart so close to a fortress full of knights? Of course, monsters such as the draken and drakwalves were always a threat, but what were three untrained boys supposed to do against something like that?

Shon sighed, letting his hand fall limply from the gorget. It was no use. No matter how many times he tried to shift it, it would just rub somewhere else until he grew uncomfortable enough to try again. He attempted to distract himself, letting his eyes unfocus and picturing himself going through his kata as he walked in a daze. Master Veon-Zih always said that mental practice was just as important as physical training, though in this case, Shon was just glad it gave him something to focus on besides his nerves and discomfort.

He was about to start the second kata when he nearly ran into Rerves. The taller boy had stopped walking, and Shon arched an eyebrow at him before realizing that the wagon had also stopped. There was no way they were there already…

Stepping to the side, Shon saw what had stalled them. A man in what looked like poorly kept half-plate stood in the middle of the path. A large war ax strapped to his back.

The stranger scratched at his short beard, scraggly and peppered like his hair, “Ho traveler, where you headed?” He called.

The three boys looked to the Paladin driving the wagon, watching as his eyes narrowed, “We are bound for Hamerfoss, good ser…”

“Ah, so the toll you’ll be payin' will be comin' out of them coffers then,” the stranger called, his face splitting into a grin as the boys looked back his way.

“There is no toll on this road, good ser.” their Paladin stated. As if their heads had been placed on a swivel, the Squires returned their gazes to him, but only for a moment as the stranger answered again.

“There is now.” the bandit lifted his hand, the Paladin stood, and the boys looked between the two with wide eyes, not sure what they were supposed to do. The bandit whistled, a sharp sound that sent birds flying from the trees as four hooded figures exited from the gloom to surround the wagon and its three terrified Squires.

The Paladin drew his longsword, ordering the boys, “Protect the wagon!” They turned frightened eyes on each other for only a moment before looking back at the bandits. Each now holding swords of their own.

The knight lept from the wagon and charged the leader, who'd reached for his ax. Thom and Rerves fumbled for their short swords, and Shon dropped into a low stance, his fists held at the ready and heart beating furiously.

“Shon, sword!” Rerves yelled, his voice somehow steady as the four hooded bandits stalked closer.

Shon actually felt himself blush despite the situation and pulled his sword from its scabbard like the rest. He felt off-balance, the weight of the weapon throwing off his well-rehearsed stance. He didn’t have time to adjust before the bandits charged. Two went for Rerves, leaving one each for Shon and Thom.

Shon tried to relax, to stay alert and ready to move, as he'd been taught. But his palm was sweating and he clinched the hilt tighter than intended. Focused on the bandit heading his way, the chaos around him blurred, becoming indistinct, like a drawing left in the rain. Shon held his ground and lifted the sword to one of the ready positions he'd seen the Paladins practice. His attacker was quite a bit taller than he was, and Shon lifted the sword above his head as the first swing came down hard from above.

The hilt shook in Shon's hand, and his attacker didn't hesitate to swing again, this time sweeping around and aiming for Shon's left leg. Clenching his teeth, Shon pivoted the sword down to block again but misjudged the length of his blade. The bandit's long sword passed below the point of Shon's block to strike just above the knee. He felt the impact, but could only imagine the damage, refusing to look and thanking Hengist the limb hadn't buckled. As the shock of the hit ran its course, the attacker flicked his sword up from inside Shon's failed guard, knocking the weapon from his hand.

The short sword flew free, but Shon had already begun his counter, aiming with his free right hand at his attacker’s extended wrist. The hit would have knocked the attacker's arm aside at the least, but with his now empty left hand, Shon struck the same arm from the outside at the elbow. In an instinctual effort to save the joint, the bandit twisted awkwardly, but predictably, bringing his head lower and closer.

Cartilage crunched beneath his knuckles and Shon's attacker reeled back, gripping his nose under his hood and cursing loudly enough for others to hear over the clang of metal and chaos.

One of Rerves' attackers disengaged from his two-on-one fight to aid his friend, who was now backing away from Shon as fast as he could. Shon hesitated a moment then dashed to his fallen sword.

Again Shon felt unbalanced with the weapon in hand. He tried to shift his weight to offset the difference but barely had enough time to bring the sword to bear as the second attacker swung his two-handed greatsword at Shon's right side.

Taking his own weapon in both hands, Shon managed to absorb some of the force of the blow, but he still wasn't strong enough to fully block the strike. His arms buckled, giving way for his opponent's longsword to hit his upper arm. This second hit hadn't fully registered in Shon's mind when the new attacker shoved his shoulder into Shon's chest, trying to push him over.

It worked. Shon fell to the ground with a splash and smack as he habitually swung his hands down to slap the ground, dropping his sword again, but breaking the energy of the fall. Just as Master Veon-Zih had taught him. Perhaps expecting Shon to be winded, the attacker didn't follow through with another attack on the prone boy; instead, turning to look at the companion Shon had punched.

Shon didn't hesitate. Still on his back, Shon twisted his hips, scissoring his legs to either side of the bandit's leg and kicking him behind the knee and inside the shin. The bigger man went down, and Shon swung his legs up, rolling onto his shoulder blades before jumping directly to a standing position. Or at least trying to. The leather armor was heavy and awkward, and he wobbled when he landed on his feet. As he attempted to regain his balance, another whistle rang out from the front of the wagon.

As one, the attackers disengaged from their respective defending Squires. The one Shon had knocked down rolled away and was helped up by his companion sporting a bloody nose. The Squires didn't pursue. Their hands shook with adrenaline, and their eyes tried to dart every way at once.

"Stand down, Squires," it was the Paladin. The knight had sheathed his sword and was moving back towards the wagon, but the boys could barely manage a glance at each other before focusing back on their attackers. Still very much on edge. It wasn't until the attackers in question also sheathed their weapons that the Squires began to slowly straighten, looking between the Paladin, the lead bandit, their attackers, and each other in quick succession.

"You all did very well," the knight said, reaching out to ensure the horses were still calm. They'd hardly moved, causing Shon to determine they must be warhorses, perhaps one was the knight's own partner.

"Not bad, not bad." the lead bandit started forward, slinging his ax back over his shoulder as he moved. Rather than being reassured by the gesture, the Squires dropped back into their fighting stance.

The Paladin snapped, "It was a test, boys. Relax and sheath your swords before you hurt yourselves." The lead 'bandit' laughed out loud at that. It was a booming sound like a bark straight from his belly as he threw his head back and planted his fists firmly on his hips.

"First time seeing battle, even a mock one, and you can't help but be on edge. It's the same every year," he said, the strange speech pattern he'd used before completely gone. He gestured, and his four underlings removed their hoods. The one with the bloody nose still had it pinched, his head tilted forward.

Mock battle… Shon's leg and arm throbbed painfully with every heartbeat, and his knuckles stung as he clenched and unclenched his fists to try and relax. But now that it was over, he realized that both hits had been with the flat of the blade.

The ringleader continued, "These fine Squires are going to be the newest Paladins of Hengist. After their vigil next month." the four attackers saluted and the younger Squires exchanged glances again before finally putting their swords away. "And I," the man slapped his chest, "am your new Weaponmaster. Master Daunas Mung. It will be my job to train you in combat at Hamerfoss."

Rerves was the first to recover. He smiled, but his voice held a hint of sarcasm, "I wish I could say it's nice to meet you, Master Daunas," he tried to laugh, "perhaps once my heart has stopped trying to beat its way out of my chest." That caused the Weaponmaster to bark his own laugh again. Thom smiled nervously at Shon, who was taking slow, measured breaths to calm his own heart.

The Paladin took a moment to examine their various bumps and bruises but only used his magic to heal the senor squire's broken nose. The much larger party continued together towards Hamerfoss, Master Daunas riding with the Paladin in the wagon while the older Squires chatted amongst each other. Thom and Rerves didn’t join in the chatter, both looking as anxious as Shon felt. He could hear the two uninjured seniors making fun of the two who had fought him and wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed or proud. He'd hardly used his sword, -dropped it twice!- and the sword was the sacred weapon of Hengist. The symbol of the god himself.

Eventually, -finally- they left the woods and immediately saw the fortress situated in the middle of a vast field. Hamerfoss was one of the oldest structures still being utilized in Clearhelm. As such, it wasn't nearly as visually impressive as some of the newer Temples in the cities. Even so, as they approached the south gate, the three new Squires gaped at its great stone walls in awe.

The outer curtain wall was twenty stones high, -at least four of the boys stacked one on top of the other- with two layers of iron portcullises, their bars as thick as Shon's forearm. Walking through the first, the boys looked up and saw the faces of Paladins looking down at them through holes in the ceiling, built for dumping hot tar or oil on invaders trapped between the portcullises. They moved a little faster through the second.

Beyond the wall was one of two open courtyards, with training dummies, archery targets, and sparring rings separated by neat stone walkways. The smell of hay and horses wafted over the whole place from the stable against the south wall to their right, and the ringing "tink, tink" of a hammer on metal filled the cool air from the smithy built into the side of the fortress proper.

"Welcome to Hamerfoss!" Master Daunas gestured widely to all before them, and Shon fixed his eyes on the fortress itself, rising up like an indomitable mountain before him. It was about fifteen feet taller than the curtain wall, with one great tower in the center jutting up another fifteen feet above that. The roof was lined with battlements where archers could rain death on an invading army.

Turning his head, Shon could see three of the four bastions at the corners of the curtain wall and the armored figures that must be more Paladins standing guard. His left hand twitched as he longed to unpack his journal and draw every detail. The bare, dead-looking vines covering the face of the west wall, he was sure they would bloom in a few short weeks and cover the stone in green; the squat smithy coming out of his workshop to wipe the sweat from his brow in the cool air of early spring; and the slack-jawed expressions of awe on his companions' faces as they tilted their heads waaay back to try and see the top of the fortress's tower. But there would be plenty of time for that. After all, this would be his home for the next four years.

"Well. Don't just stand there gawkin'! Unload the wagon." Shon jumped in surprise and glimpsed Thom and Rerves doing the same. Master Daunas must have startled them out of their awe as well.

Shon was grateful as Rerves cleared his throat and took charge. His habit of speaking first and taking control had annoyed the girls back in Smilnda, but as Thom was used to it and Shon didn’t like giving orders, it worked out well for the boys. "Thom, you get the horses settled. Shon, you start handing me things out of the wagon." Without a word of argument, Thom nodded and went to the horses, murmuring gently as he began removing their harness and Shon climbed into the bed of the wagon to lift one crate at a time down to Rerves.

Master Daunas snorted, turning away from the new boys to give orders Shon couldn't hear to the older Squires. The young men saluted in unison, one moving to help Thom and two coming back to the wagon to help Shon and Rerves. The last jogged to the blacksmith, who waved him towards the smithy. He returned a moment later, carrying a small box and marching towards the smith, who was speaking quietly with Master Daunas.

"Shon, come on!" Rerves whispered, gesturing with both hands impatiently. Shon shook his head to clear it, handing Rerves another crate. He'd been paying a little too much attention to Daunas and the smith.

"Sorry," Shon murmured, but if Rerves heard him, he just took the box and set it with the others. It didn't take long for the four Squires to finish with the wagon. Shon hopped down with his own pack over his shoulder just as Thom came out of the stable with the senior Squire to meet them.

"Horses taken care of?" Rerves asked, and Shon blinked at him, thinking, Of course, they were; Thom wouldn't have come out otherwise…

"Yep, all settled and ready to go," Thom answered with a smile. Shon would've simply nodded. He was never one to waste words on things that didn't need to be said, and now more than ever, he found himself so focused on taking in everything around him that he could hardly think of words to say.

It seemed Master Daunas had been waiting for something to be said out loud, though, because he turned towards them at the sound, "Alright lads, this here is Nangran Flintchest. He's our resident Smith, and he'll be making all your equipment." The man was only as tall as Thom, but his shoulders and chest were broader even than Master Daunas, with hands the size of shovels and a beard that hung to the middle of his chest.

"Line up, smallest... largest…" As he spoke, Nangran pointed first to the right, then to the left of Shon, and didn't bother to see if they obeyed before turning away from them to open the box the older Squire had brought. Taking out a long measuring tape and a ratty-looking notebook, the smith tossed the young man the notebook without explanation and headed toward Thom with the measuring tape. Thom quickly positioned himself to the right of Shon with Rerves on Shon’s left.

Nangran motioned with his hand, grumbling only "Arms…" Without need for further explanation, Thom stepped forward and lifted his arms like a 't', visibly swallowing down his nerves. Shon watched closely as the smith took the smaller boy's measurements. Around his chest, his bicep, lower arm, from shoulder to elbow, elbow to wrist, neck to waist, and much more besides. Thom stood stiff, following the old man's clipped instructions with hesitant jerky movements. Shon thought it should be awkward to work around their armor, but Nangran didn't seem to notice.

"Sword?" Nangran asked, and Thom made a confused sound. But the smith waved a massive hand in his face, "Not you, boy. Daunas, what sword?"

Master Daunas had his arms crossed over his chest and was tilting his head back and forth from one side to the other, absently scratching his beard before he finally said. "Two hands." he then pointed at Shon, saying, "Bastard." Shon wrinkled his nose, but the offense was short-lived when Daunas pointed at Rerves, saying, "One hand."

Nangran sniffed, "One each..." he stepped over to Shon and motioned for him to raise his arms. Shon stiffened but obliged, keeping his eyes fixed forward as the old man ran his measuring tape all across Shon's body, fighting not to flinch each time the Smith brushed against him.

"Yep," Daunas answered. They were talking as if the boys weren't even there, and the older Squires just watched. Didn’t they have anything better to do? "And that one," Daunas continued, nodding towards Shon, "is a lefty." Nangran snorted without comment and continued measuring, while the Squire with the notebook scribbled a little something extra besides the numbers Nangran mumbled to him.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

But then the smith ran his hand down Shon’s forearm, touching the skin of his wrist, and pulled away in surprise. Shon jerked his hand back but quickly returned it with a nervous swallow. The smith stared at him, his brow furrowed, "You're cold as ice boy. Nervous?"

Shon shook his head, but the smith continued to stare, so he added, "No sir. I'm always cold."

The smith hummed and went back to measuring around Shon's wrist and back up his arm, "They say cold hands make a warm heart," Nangran muttered.

Beside Shon, Rerves and Thom snickered. "Whoever says that has never met Shon," said Thom, who had relaxed noticeably once the smith had finished with him. Face forward, Shon glared sideways at him, but there was no real anger in it, and Thom snickered again.

Master Daunas let out another bark of a laugh, "I see you get along well! That's good; you'll want friends in training." Shon tried to relax, taking a deep breath through his nose and letting it out through pursed lips. He did get along with his fellow Squires. He felt his lips tilt up in an almost imperceptible smile. He would even go so far as to call them friends. Even if they did poke fun at each other. Or maybe it was because they did.

Smith Nangran moved on to Rerves, and Shon looked from the larger boy to the smaller and back again before focusing his gaze on Master Daunas. It seemed neither of them was going to ask the adults to clarify what they meant by the sword assignments, so he would have to. Feeling more at ease, he asked, "I thought we were going to be trained in all weapons…"

Daunas must've seen where Shon was going because he spoke at the pause provided, "Oh, you will, boy. But I was watching you fight back on the road. You didn't think we staged that little raid just for fun, did you?" Shon didn't answer. He had thought it was just for fun. Perhaps some kind of hazing ritual. When Shon didn't say anything, Daunas continued, "You boys haven't been trained, so your movements were on instinct, giving me an idea for what fighting style you may lean more towards." he pointed at Shon, who crossed his eyes to focus on the finger, "You, boy, are going to be a problem. You're the one old man V's been training."

Who? Shon refocused on the Weapon Master's face, arching an eyebrow in confusion. When Master Daunas didn’t respond to the look, Shon guessed, "Master Veon-Zih?"

Daunas continued, "He's got you jumping around with no mind to the armor you'll be wearing or the weapon in your hand. You'll have to work twice as hard to adjust some of those habits." Shon was taken aback, shocked, and a little afraid… He didn't want to lose what he'd already learned… but Master Daunas continued, "But with a hand-and-a-half sword, you'll be able to switch between one and two-handed maneuvers." he smiled softly, and Shon realized his emotions must have been showing on his face more than usual because the Weapon Master seemed to be comforting him. "You mark my words; you'll favor the bastard sword for sure."

Nangran finished with Rerves and began rolling up his measuring tape. He turned his back on the boys but spoke to them as he took his notebook back from the senior Squire, “Take that leather off and put it in the wagon. I’ll have better ready for you by first watch week.” The Squires exchanged looks, then began following the command, stripping off the leather armor and thick gambeson and trying in vain to straighten the sweaty wrinkled uniforms underneath.

“You four,” Daunas addressed the seniors, who moved from parade rest to attention in perfect unison, “show these three around and give them the rundown of how things work around here. You three,” he looked over his shoulder at Shon and the others, scratching his neck again, “this is your last day of freedom, enjoy it while you can.” all seven Squires saluted and Daunas sighed, giving a lazy salute in response before walking off, muttering to himself, “I need to shave…”

The older Squires approached the younger, two of them snickering after Daunas was far enough away not to hear. Shon arched an eyebrow at them and, seeing the expression, the tallest explained, “He’s normally clean-shaven. He let his beard grow out all week for the wagon raid.”

“You’ll be doing one too, in your last year.” another of the four added.

“Sorry about your arm,” the one who had fought Thom said, holding out his hand to the younger boy, “You really did do well, considering.” Thom shook the young man’s hand with a grateful smile at the compliment.

The two who had fought Shon exchanged looks with each other then looked at him, their expressions expectant. Shon arched his other eyebrow instead. Did they really expect him to apologize? They had attacked him. And he was four years younger than they were.

“So…” the one Shon had bloodied started, drawing the word out.

“Who taught you how to fight?” the second interjected.

“Master Veon-Zih.”

When Shon didn’t elaborate further, the two exchanged silent shrugs. Shon looked away from them, frustrated. They could communicate with each other fine in gestures and expressions, yet, he was expected to explain details they didn't need? Would they even know what a Monk was? Did it even matter? He was here to train as a Paladin now.

The only one who hadn’t spoken yet cleared his throat, and the other three turned his way immediately. Apparently, he was the unofficial leader of this group, just like Rerves was the unofficial leader of theirs. “We'll show you the barracks first. You should shower and change your uniforms before we walk around the rest of the fortress.”

“You have showers here too?” Rerves blurted in amazement, then snapped his mouth shut, blushing.

The two who were prone to laughing did so again, “Why wouldn’t we?”

“I bet we need it more than most of the official Temples.” the two laughed again.

Thom shuffled his feet nervously but said, “They told us things would be a lot rougher here.”

“They were probably just trying to scare you,”

“They were talking about the work,” the leader said sharply, then turned towards the fortress.

Shon and the others quickly grabbed their bags and rushed to follow. The leader continued to talk as they fell into step behind him, “Your day will start just before sunrise, at fifth bell. You will get dressed, make your bed as quickly as possible, then gather with the others in the courtyard,” he gestured with one hand at a wide-open spot on the training grounds, “From there we run. Around the fortress ten times in formation. After that are drills and then breakfast. After breakfast, we have prayer, followed by lectures, then heavy weapons and armor training, then lunch.” they made their way into the fortress and up a long flight of stairs to the third floor, “After lunch, there's more classwork, then light weapons and combat training. You’re then given an hour of free time to shower and rest before dinner. After dinner, there is mandated study or prayer time, then another hour of free time before lights out at ninth bell. Once every season, we take four weeks to stand watch, one week for each shift.”

He took them down a long hall lined with doors on one side. Shon tried to listen and count the doors at the same time and was glad he did when the leader stopped beside the ninth, “These three rooms are yours. Go ahead and get a new uniform and meet us back out here.”

One of the nicer boys stepped forward to open the first door, “This one is Rerves, followed by Shon and Thom.” Shon entered to find a small room barely six feet square. Directly across from the door was a bed that took up the entire wall and a small high-set window that looked out over the training field. Beside it was a small desk with a single wooden chair. Under the bed, Shon found a long shallow box full of neatly folded uniforms. His name was embroidered in the lining of each piece, and on top was a pinned note with instructions detailing the laundry procedure. Shon only skimmed it, it was the same as the fortress in Smilnda, and most likely the same the Provence over, perhaps even the kingdom.

He left his pack by the desk and returned to the hall with one of his uniforms to find it empty. Glancing down either side of the hall, he shrugged at Thom’s questioning look when he was joined by his two fellows. They waited at least ten minutes before the seniors returned, without their armor and holding their own spare uniforms. They looked nearly as disheveled as the juniors. The leader gestured for them to follow again and said, “Once you get your armor, you will keep it in your room. It's your responsibility to keep it oiled or polished as appropriate.” well, they would be good at that at least… Had they been left to wait while the seniors cared for their armor? Shon didn’t bother to ask, following the four deeper into the fortress.

They were taken to the showers, a single large room with spigots set into the walls and drains in the floor. The seniors started to strip down, placing their dirty uniforms in a basket by the door and setting their clean sets on the benches set along the same wall. Thom, Rerves, and Shon all exchanged looks before following their lead.

There were only ten showerheads, and Rerves finally asked, “How many Squires are there here?”

The seniors each moved to their own showerhead, and the room was quickly filled with hot steam, “Twentyone, including us, but we will be gone in a month, so that will leave seventeen.” one of them answered, stepping under the hot water with a grateful sigh, rinsing the sweat and dirt from the road off his surprisingly well-muscled body. Shon counted the shower spigots again as he moved towards his own. Almost twenty Squires and only ten showers at a time… it sounded like a nightmare. But at least they had hot running water.

Though he had above-average cold tolerance and preferred the winter chill far more than the summer sweat, Shon always enjoyed a truly hot shower. Master Veon-Zih liked to argue that baths were far superior, but in Shon's experience, baths always cooled off too quickly, which was why most ordinary citizens of Clearhelm used the public steam baths.

After they were washed and dressed, the real tour began. They were shown the hall with the officer's rooms, the infirmary, the mess hall, the library, and the classroom. “There’s only one?” Thom asked, peeking into the room with a blackboard across the far wall and long tables situated in front.

“Tomorrow is the last real day before the watch weeks start. You'll spend those four weeks catching up on foundational stuff. Kingdom-wide law, and your assigned sword dills, that sort of thing. After that, the lessons are given in a four-year rotation, so your first classes after the watch weeks will be new to both you and everyone else." the leader explained.

The nicest one elaborated, “You’ll have the same schedule we did, so comparative law, followed by history, then theology, then comparative cultural studies.” Shon wasn’t sure what he looked forward to least on that list. Though all would be better than fighting for a shower…

"There's also etiquette, monster studies, combat tactics and command, and war history and theory." his friend added, and Shon was relieved that at least most of those seemed more interesting.

Next, they were shown some of the less-used rooms. The war room, full of charts and maps and only used for large-scale tactics training, and an indoor sparring room that looked like it was never used.

“This is supposed to be for heavy weather.” one of the laughers said with a snicker.

“But Master Daunus says your enemies won’t let you move a fight inside, so why practice there,” added the other. Shon happened to agree, but also wasn’t looking forward to training in the rain after having walked in it for two days.

Lastly, they were shown the chapel, not as fine as the one in Smilnda but with the same sweet incense and warm comfort. The atmosphere seeped into Shon’s bones as they approached the head altar for a brief prayer and a blessing from the resident Cleric. He was a young man with pale brown hair and green eyes. He smiled warmly down at the new boys, saying, “Welcome to Hamerfoss, Squires of Hengist.” which in turn made each of them glow with enough pride to banish the nerves of their first day and daunting future.

***

Shon slept fitfully. He kept having dreams that he'd missed the bell to wake up and was left sprinting after the others who had already started their morning run. In tight formation, they ran ahead of him. Getting further and further out of reach no matter how hard he pushed himself. Until he tripped over something and crashed down into a frozen puddle that reflected his face back at him. Except he had white hair like an old man. His reflection smiled sadly at him, mouthing something Shon wasn’t saying and couldn’t hear…

He woke up to find himself alone for the first time in his life... He could see the sky through his window, dark blue with no stars. Just before sunrise then. A bell sounded, deep and clear through the still air. Shon closed his eyes and counted, one… two… three… four… the ringing stopped, and he rolled over to sit up on the edge of the bed. There was no point in trying to sleep with only one hour left.

He looked around the small room, running his fingers through hair now cut to regulation length the night before. The door was barely a step away. There was no way he could do his kata in here. Kneeling on his bed, he looked out the window and down to the courtyard. It was empty, but he didn’t know if he was allowed to go there early and hadn’t thought to ask the day before. With a frustrated sigh, he slid down the wall and surveyed the tiny room again.

His own room… He'd never had a private room before. Thom and Rerves seemed unimpressed by the size, but they'd never had to share before coming to the Temple in Smilnda where they'd slept in the group barracks with Shon and the girls.

Shon had unpacked his limited belongings, only his civilian clothes remaining in his pack under the bed. He wondered if he would ever have a chance to wear them again. He'd set up his old journals on the desk, leaning them against the wall in the corner, his current journal in front, with his pencil set neatly on top. Other than those, he only had a simple deck of playing cards and a collection of miniature wooden statues of Hengist’s knights, both given to him as Winter Solstice gifts and placed in his desk drawer with his spare pencils.

An hour before he started training… for real this time…

The entire year had felt like a series of false starts to the next chapter of his life. The test to determine if he would even be allowed to train as a Paladin had been the first. But even after passing, he had a year with the Temple as a junior Squire before the actual training started. Then he'd left the city. Walking out those gates had felt like the first steps toward his future! Then they'd spent six days on the road, stewing. He'd arrived at Hamerfoss! Was given uniforms, a room, measured for armor, and had his hair cut! Surely that was the beginning… But no. He'd gotten the tour and eaten dinner with the rest of the Squires, but it didn't really feel like he'd started yet.

Everything up until now was like getting ready to get started. Taking out his book and opening to a clean page, but not drawing anything yet. Today he was finally going to draw that first line. Today he would start turning that blank paper into art, into the man he was going to become.

He stood, then immediately dropped into a horse stance. He might not be able to do his kata, but he could at least do his drills. Focusing on the movements, he let his mind wander just a bit. Walking through the fortress again in his memory to try and make sure he knew where everything was and going over the schedule described by the exiting seniors. He felt more relaxed this morning than he had yesterday. A little excited, yes, but he wondered how much of Thom and Rerves' obvious nervousness had affected him. There was no reason to be nervous. Everyone started at the beginning. At least that’s what he told himself.

The fifth bell sounded, and Shon felt his heart speed up in direct contrast to the slow, measured rings. He continued his drills. He only had a few left but could hear movement from the other rooms through his window and door. People began to leave the barracks, and he rushed through the last few strikes. Dropping to the floor, he hurried to get ready, kicking the box back under his bed before dropping the uniform and making the bed as quickly as he could. He dressed, then sat on the bed to put on his boots, wrinkling the blanket. But only a little, he could straighten it again afterward…

“Shon? Are you ready? Let’s go!” Rerves called through his door, and Shon hurried to swing it open and join his fellows in the hall. They had sworn to each other that they would stay together. And that they wouldn’t be last.

They rushed down the hall to keep up with the leading group, though there were still a few behind them. The cool spring air washed over them as they exited the fortress, and Shon hesitated with Rerves and Thom as the others fell into formation.

“Over here,” one boy, not much older than them, called out, waving his hand and pointing to the spots next to him, “Tallest in the back, shortest in the front.”

Shon fell in behind Thom, with Rerves behind him and next to the helpful Squire. No one spoke, and everyone stood at attention. Shon did his best to imitate them, standing stiff with his arms at his sides and trying not to lock his knees. They waited like that for what felt like an hour but must have been minutes. Eventually, four Paladins and Master Daunas exited the fortress at a casual walk. No one moved, not even to salute.

“Dress right, DRESS!” one of the Paladins, an older man with a light build, shouted at the head of the formation.

As one, the experienced Squires lifted their left arms and looked right, shuffling to adjust themselves slightly, so they stood at precisely the proper distance from each other. Shon, Thom, and Rerves hurried to imitate them just trying to keep up.

“Ready, FRONT.”

All arms dropped, and heads snapped forward.

“Right, FACE.”

The Squires, all to Shon’s right, turned their backs on him in perfect unison, snapping their heels and maintaining formation. The newest Squires did their best to mimic them a step behind.

“Forward, MARCH.”

They started marching, their feet moving as one and their arms swinging together. Being left-handed, Shon stepped off with the correct foot, but he was the only one. The others had to double-step quickly to bring themselves back in line with everyone else. They marched all the way out the gate before they were given the command to run. Two of the Paladins set the pace at the front, with the other two in the back behind Shon and the others. Master Daunaus ran beside them.

They stayed in formation for two full rounds of the curtain wall, but eventually, some began to lag. No one stopped. The stronger runners gently passed the stragglers, returning to formation as the slower people fell back. Apparently, it was more important that they continue to run than that they stay in formation. Shon found himself grateful again for all his training -which included endurance running- with Master Veon-Zih. No matter what Master Daunaus said about him needing to unlearn his lessons.

They made ten rounds of the complex before being led back into the courtyard. They were allowed to get water and catch their breath before Daunas shouted, “Get your weapons, boys.” and they all scrambled for the weapons rack full of swords.

Shon followed behind, unsure what to do but watching to try and figure it out before it was his turn. Everyone seemed to grab a different type of true sword, some huge two-handed greatswords, some thinner one-handed longswords with shields, and others hand-and-a-half, or bastard, swords. Remembering Daunas’s sword assignments Shon made for the rack with the bastard swords, but was stopped before he could reach one by another Paladin shouting out names.

“Shon, Rerves, Thom, and Uther. To me.” Shon’s fingers brushed off the hilt of a practice sword, and he turned to follow Rerves, Thom, and an older boy. They approached the Paladin nervously; the fact that the older squire's shoulders were slumped in abject misery did nothing to ease the younger boys' fears.

The Paladin had a stern face and barked, “Follow me.” before any of them had a chance to ask anything. They followed him back into the fortress and up the stairs to the barracks, where they found four more Paladins, each standing outside one of their rooms. “You were instructed to keep your rooms clean and your beds made.” the stern Paladin said, “You will do it again, and you will do it until you get it right.” Shon hadn’t fixed his blankets, was that what this was about? It shouldn’t take long to fix...

He entered his room to find it completely upended. His uniform box was pulled out, its contents scattered across the floor and bed, which had its sheets and blankets pulled off and thrown over the desk. The drawer to his desk had been removed and dumped on the ground, left upside down with pencils and cards scattered all about.

Rerves' call of shock and protest could be heard from the hall, “I didn’t do this! Someone-”

“You might as well have.” the Paladin interrupted flatly, “You have ten minutes, do it properly.” They had done this. The Paladins had inspected their rooms, and finding them less than perfect, had torn them apart so the Squires could clean them again.

Shon steeled himself and started with the bed. He would do as he was told. Follow orders. There was no use complaining about something that needed to be done. When he was finished, he left his room and stood by the door, opposite the still quiet, and waiting Paladin. The stern Paladin waited for all of them to be done and by their doors before he marched down the hall, sticking his head in each room. When he reached the oldest boy, three doors down, he made an about-face and stated, “Again.”

All four of the waiting Paladins went into their respective rooms and began to trash them again. Thom whined in protest, and Shon flinched as he heard his drawer being pulled out and upended for a second time. When the Paladins were done, they returned to their positions by the doors, and the serious one stated, “You have ten minutes.”

They cleaned their rooms again. And again. And again. Occasionally the Paladin would shorten their time limit. By the time he was done, Shon was surprised how much he could finish in five minutes. He could hear the other Squires doing their drills in the courtyard and snuck a peek when they filed back into the fortress for breakfast. And still, they cleaned and recleaned their rooms.

They worked through breakfast and prayer and were finally dismissed to their lessons. Shon trudged with the rest towards the classroom, disgusted with himself. He'd had a full hour before anyone else to get his room ready. Why hadn’t he done that first? It wasn’t a mistake he would make again. Glancing over his shoulder, Shon watched the older boy, Uther. He'd been here at least a year and looked utterly defeated. How had he not learned to do it right after so long, and presumably so many such punishments?

No one spoke as they entered the classroom. The Paladin giving the lecture for the day didn’t even turn from what he was writing on the board. Shon took an empty seat in the back and fell into it, flinching at the sound. Though no one else seemed to notice.

There was a notebook and pencil in front of each chair, and Shon opened his to find a hastily scrawled message on a scrap piece of paper,

'Don’t worry about it. It happens to everyone their first year. Welcome to Hamerfoss.'

Shon looked around as if he actually expected to recognize the writer amongst the group of eighteen strangers. No one looked up from their notes. Shon stuffed the message quickly into his pocket before picking up his pencil and trying to follow the lecture. Something about water use and regulation in Halakon verse Talkar…

He had known it was going to be strict. Had known that they would demand perfection. And Shon swore silently to himself and Hengist that he would give it to them.