The Knight Behind the Pillar (17 page)

             
Depressing thoughts, I dismissed them as my eyes grew cold in the breeze of the day.  I searched for better and thoughts of the lady who had my name came to me.  Mostly I considered how pathetically I had given my name away.

             
In the end I found myself awaiting Arthur in the tournament field and all too quickly it had become the afternoon.  The field was just south of the fort and partly dominated by the mass of the southern fort wall off which the sun’s warmth reflected.  The afternoon sun continued its journey across a now cloudless sky on this increasingly warm spring day and I was grateful for the slightest breeze.   It was a popular practice site, but exposed to the elements having had the trees cleared years ago to  allowed views from the fort of the river and uninterrupted sight of the bridge further south.  The view was not important, who you could see coming was.

             
A number of Pells awaited their attacker, but I guessed that today I would be the wooden post for Arthur to practice at.  The Pells were scattered across the training ground with no real thought behind their locations.  Some had been reduced to splinters and yet remained as a risk to your continued existence and you went near them at your peril, especially in midst of training or a mock battle.

             
A young page I failed to recognise had left a number of swords that lay on the ground close by.  I rather feared there might be some expectation for us to use them and hoped the two wooden batons I held would be the actual weapons of choice.  The batons were not greatly balanced and weighed far more than a standard sword, but the point was if you learnt to use them well then a sword would be easy.  The other point was these did not have points or edges and so the chances of killing each other were greatly reduced, but it had to be said not gone altogether.

             
I considered myself a good swordsman.  Certainly I was better at fighting than riding and was keen to show Arthur I was not completely useless now I had a chance.  Conceivably I should be nervous; after all I was about trade blows with a king, at least he would be one soon.  I remembered what we agreed and right now he was a squire or a prince which pretty much made us equal.  At the same time you had to balance the knowledge that this was a man who had pulled out a sword from a rock and no other could do the same.  I doubted he was tremendously strong despite somehow given his thin frame he did it, but this further supported the idea it was all a trick in the first place.  Truth was I did not actually know how good a fighter he was, only certain he had a good right punch and my jaw had been an unwilling witness to that.  The resulting bruise to the side of my face had been a good reminder all day and the cause of second glances from others.

             
Despite all this I had to admit I was confident in my abilities and regardless of the lack of tutoring from Aries himself I could hold my own.  My own background and yes my own father and those he had train me before I parted from home had given me a good basis in the art of sword play.  A privilege beginning that I wanted to escape still had a benefit I could not deny.  My father liked to use rebated swords for training and as blunt as they might have been you learnt to sharpen your skills very fast.

             
Not entirely alone, Bedivere also stood quietly with an air of amusement nearby.  Nothing bothered him and he appeared to breeze through life finding only the good about it.  Losing his left hand might be the reason for such a care free attitude.  While he had never told me how he had lost his hand, he said once rushing never got you far and indicated his arm.  He was mid to late twenties I knew, but with an older reputation.  A weathered face, with only his oddly intense blue eyes giving away a hint of his younger age.  He was the one you relied on, the one in charge even without saying a word.  Aries lead by instruction, or just shouting, while Bedivere waited and in the end you realised his way is the only way.  Rumours ran a place like Caerleon, word of mouth changed every fact and twisted it ever so.  Rumour or not it was said that Bedivere was training one particular squire and he fell out with him.  The squire refused to train anymore and left.  Bedivere waited, for almost two days standing exactly where he was left only having food and water sent out to him.  The squire returned in the end, his will broken and argument gone.  No punishment, but it was also said neither left the training grounds for a further two days. 

             
Two days might have been two hours when the story first started, but you cannot beat a reputation like that.  You could not fight a man who won by waiting and using patience as efficient as an axe on wood or perhaps even on a Pell.  In Caerleon, he was thought to also be unbeaten using an actual sword as well and that fact always helped any reputation.  You wondered what might he be like if he had two hands, or was just having one the reason for him being who he was today.

             
Rumour had been at work again today I feared.  A number of guards lined the fort’s wall, more than one or two I would have normally expected.  There seemed to me to be a number of men suddenly needing to practice their skills on the far side of the field and some just happen to be wandering aimlessly about.  A feeling of expectation grew in my mind, endorsed by the side glances I was getting and I was sure it was not my black eye they were looking at.

             
By the time Arthur arrived, the number of people who had gathered could no longer pretend they were there for any other reason than to watch us train.  Perhaps not us, more likely just wanting to see the future king.  As more people appeared that clearly included townsfolk as well, the newer arrivals did nothing to act like they were there otherwise.  I was immobilised by the public scrutiny, aware that my ripped clothes were more holes than cloth and I had not yet found time to mend then.  Never before had I been nervous for training, yet today was different and I had to admit as much.

             
Truth was I had to admit we were not equal!

             
              When Arthur did arrive, it was an arrival that had meaning rather than just a squire following a daily routine of training and duties.  Arthur was flanked by his brother on his left and Aries to his right, who I quickly cursed under my breath making sure I was looking away to the river first to avoid being seen doing so.  Behind them a number of others followed, even more audience members for this practice session that was quickly looking like more of a tournament event without the tents and flags.

             
Arthur appeared unusually calm and, while had his head low, he walked with purpose.  The change of ground from meadow grass to bare earth compacted by the thousands of feet of would be knights was the unofficial line only Arthur and his brother dared to cross.  Bedivere’s eyes patrolled the line and even Aries stopped and joined the crowd standing before it.  From the respectful distance he gave a Bedivere a polite nod.  Aries knew this was the marshal’s territory, but I doubted he would ever acknowledge it out loud.  Kay’s carried rebated swords I noticed to my dismay, one in each hand.  Having just remembered my time at home training, my thoughts returned to that time again.  The blades purposefully blunt to be used for training.  These also had thin leather strips that were twisted around the blade, an attempt to reduce the potential harm of a significant hit.  However I knew these strips always came away after only a few strikes as even a blunt blade cuts through them in the end.  Instead if the leather doesn’t come away entirely they end up like whips wrapping around your arm during combat.  The fact the leather appeared to be in such good repair with the swords Kay held only told me these swords had not been used before and I wondered how blunt they might be given a lack of use!  This was serious!  I had to think to relax my hands as I was gripping too tightly the redundant batons I held.  Simply put, my nervousness was escalating and I was filling with dread.

             
Arthur walked towards me with his brother acting as a personal guard.  Away from the crowd now Arthur looked up and at last gave me a quick acknowledgement with the slightest of nods, but no words.  There was no surprise in his face that I was standing there, but for right now he was obediently quiet.  Thanks to the address to the people earlier today, it went without saying we were both now very aware that the veil of mystery over the identity of the future king had faded away.  People wanted to see the potential king in action, how good was he with a sword, how good a leader he might be and this was a chance to see and get closer.  Judgements were being made right now about him I guessed.  The pressure on him must be huge, and while I might be aware of my own nerves gaining more strength, all I had to be was the unknown nobody.

             
Bedivere awoke from his distractions to join us.  Passing Kay he abruptly took the swords from him without attaching any importance to the person holding them.  Such action quickly ending Kay’s need to be near his brother and I noticed a number of meaningful looks between Arthur, Bedivere and Kay before Kay backed away unrushed towards the crowd.

             
Bedivere waited patiently for Kay’s leave before addressing us.  “Come, I feel we need to warm up first let’s find some space over there and you can both practice on the Quintain.”

             
Bedivere had an untroubled voice that was light and casual.  He seemed at first to be completely unconcerned with the crowd, but the area he indicated was clearly a purposeful act to move us as far away from them as he could.  We were not out sight by moving closer towards the river, but it gave us distance and we could talk without fear of being listened to. 

             
On route Bedivere threw us both a well worn hard leader tunic to wear over our clothes and also each of us gained a light weight front breastplate to tie on.  The tunics were long sleeved and hot to wear, but you would never be tempted to roll up the sleeves if you liked your arms.  Before reaching the Quintain we also stopped first at an old battered chest that had seen better days, but it was one of those items you knew would still last longer than any newer replacement.  Inside the chest was a selection of armour and we each found a similar plain open faced helmet, both very battered and old.  We also picked up some gauntlets for some limited protection for our arms, but these were poorly fitting.  Bedivere then passed us the rebated swords, and fleetingly I wondered why a page had delivered the others piled up, realising in the end it was for others to train with and blamed my tendency to over think things for thinking otherwise.  Sword in hand I weighed it and attempted quickly to understand its balance.  It was more blunt than I expected, but not as much as I had hoped.

             
Bedivere left us to practice almost immediately to my surprise without saying another word and went to attend others training or at least challenge if they were seriously training instead of finding an excuse to stare at us.  Leaving us alone was something I am sure he would have been told not to do, but this was just opportunity Arthur had obviously been waiting for and perhaps Bedivere knew that as well.   

             
“I guessed you would be here.” Arthur said at once, and I nodded not entirely sure why he would have guessed that, but he continued regardless of my confused expression.  “They are going to make me king tomorrow!”

             
It was like he had been waiting for ages to let someone know and it had been bubbling up inside, despite everyone actually already knowing this forecasted event.

             
“I know I heard Alain’s sermon and I saw you.” I said.

             
We spoke in hush tones and made worthless attempts to look like we were stretching muscles before tackling the Quintain.  This was a roughly shaped piece of timber that had been painted to look like a man.  The paint had faded away to almost nothing and the shield placed on it was rusted over.  Unlike a Pell that was just a post in the ground that was sometimes shaped to represent something interesting to hit, the Quintain was designed to turn and a sword would swing around once you hit the shield.  It went without saying you needed to avoid the sword, but it was not as easy and harder still with armour on.  For many you needed to ride a horse at them as well, but this was a smaller version for being on foot and went around a lot faster to test your reactions.  To be honest I never understood the point of it.  I considered that one to one practice could never be beaten in gaining a decent and more realistic experience, which as why I was here for Arthur.

             
“Yes, but he didn’t tell everyone I am to be Knighted as well,” Arthur continued eagerly, “Tomorrow just before being made king!” He said.

             
“Oh,” I replied, oddly I was suddenly envious, but to distract Arthur’s well aimed frown at my unenthusiastic response, I added, “Is that what you want?”

             
Arthur nodded with certainty “Yes, course I do.  Just a bit sudden I suppose.  The true problem is there are other lords out there are all opposing the idea that I’ll be king.  Lot being one.  He’s raising an army they say and making alliances that he could never achieve before, but my arrival has forced everyone to take sides.  So everything has to move along a bit quicker.”

             
“Alain mentioned that a little in his speech as well.  And you still want to be king?” I asked to be sure.