by Adam Wallace
He had been ordered to run ten laps, but had only managed nine.
He had been rained on.
It had not been the most brilliant start to his knight-training.
Thoughts flew past, thoughts of just giving it all up, that maybe it was too hard for him. None of the bad stuff had even been to do with him having one arm, so imagine when that came into play as well! He had no chance.
Those thoughts did race around in Pete’s head, but so did this one: you suck, negative thoughts! Boo to you! As if I’m gonna give up after one crappy day, so in your face! Nice try, but you’re going down, sucker. It will take more than this to stop me, my friend, so bring it on! I’m doing this and that’s all there is to it.
With that, he stood up in the bath and roared a mighty roar. Unfortunately he did so just as one of the royal servants opened the door to bring in a royal towel. Pete McGee was royally embarrassed and blushed royally. The servant was royally amused and, once he had placed the towel on a chair and left, Pete McGee royally slapped himself on the forehead.
Haha. That’s funny. Well, funny because it happened to Pete and not to me. But still, it’s been a tough initiation for the young wannabee knight. He’s determined to go on though, and I hope he’s feeling strong, because there are going to be plenty more tests for him in the near future.
So hold onto your hats, and if you aren’t wearing a hat, well, hold onto the person next to you. Things are about to go up a gear!
The house was empty when Pete arrived home. His mother wasn’t around, and Marloynne and Ashlyn were still at work. He walked over to Horsey Horse Horse’s yard. The horse trotted over to greet him. Pete ran his hand over the lightning bolt of fur.
‘You do not want to know what sort of day I just had,’ he said softly. Horsey Horse Horse snorted, as if to indicate he understood perfectly … well either that or he was saying, ‘You do not want to know what sort of day I just had … I can barely move in here and there isn’t a whole lot of grass to eat. Say, you want to go for a ride?’
Something stirred in Pete’s brain, and he remembered he was going to ride Horsey Horse Horse that night to try and think of a name for him. He figured a ride would be good to clear his head as well. There was only one problem. Pete had never ridden a horse before, aside from that little pony, and that didn’t really count as riding.
Ah well, he figured that as this horse was a birthday present he would be pretty easy to ride. He opened the gate and walked in. Horsey Horse Horse stood patiently, waiting. Pete walked over, realising now that he had no saddle or stirrups or helmet or anything. So then, bareback riding it was. He looked around and saw the bowl his mother had fed Horsey Horse Horse apples with. He walked over, picked it up and plonked it on his head. Helmet done.
He walked back to his horse, who seemed to lean down a little. Pete grabbed his mane and tried to heave a leg over. In theory, it had seemed like a good tactic … in reality, Pete didn’t get close. He just bumped into the horse’s side and fell down again, the apple bowl clattering off. Another try, another fall. Again. Again. Again. He wasn’t even close. Well, he wasn’t close to getting on the horse, but he was getting close to tears. He threw his head back and groaned.
‘Maybe I’ll call you Unrideable,’ he said to the horse, who shook his head in disgust at the thought and walked off to have a drink. Pete watched him go. It seemed as though any chance of a ride was gone. He wasn’t going to humiliate himself any further by chasing his horse around the yard and then not being able to ride him anyway.
So instead he went inside, and went to bed.
he sun shone right into Pete McGee’s left eye. He squinted and shut it, but he had no chance. The sun would not be defeated. Somehow, while it shone into one eye, it also reflected off the mirror and shone into Pete’s other eye as well. Pete pulled the covers over his head, wishing the day would disappear. The door to his room opened and his mum walked in.
‘Young Sir, doth thou not have training this day?’ she asked in the voice Pete usually loved.
‘No Mum. Not today. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.’
He felt his mum sit on the edge of the bed.
‘What happened yesterday, Pete?’ she asked. ‘You were already in bed when I got home. I just assumed you were exhausted after a day of training.’
Pete raised his head from under the covers and sat up, leaning back against the wall. He didn’t want to speak of the previous day, but he had to tell someone, and his mum was the best person he could think of.
‘My mentor knight seems to drink ale. A lot of ale. He said he would help me and that I had to be at his house this morning. But yesterday he would not help. I was alone at training, which meant Smithers and his friends laughed at me, I couldn’t do the training exercises, and then I had to run around the castle grounds ten times. It rained. I only made nine before I basically died, but I decided that there was no way I was going to give up that easily. Then I tried to ride my horse when I got home and I couldn’t even get up on the stupid thing, let alone ride it. That finished it for me. It was the last straw and there had been a lot of straws. So yeah. Great day.’
Mrs McGee was a little shocked. Not so much at the day Pete had had, but at his reaction to it. He was usually so positive. He was usually ready to keep going no matter what the odds. Having one arm forced him to, but more than that, it was his heart that kept him persisting.
‘You want this so badly, don’t you?’ she asked quietly.
Pete nodded, feeling the tears well up again.
‘I’m so sorry Mum. I’m so sorry I’m letting you down. And I know the King said I have to do this for me as well, but I want to make you proud of me.’
‘But I am, Pete. I am so proud of you. You are my knight. You are my hero. But the King is right. This is for you, and what would make me most proud is to see you not give up, to see you fight for what you dream of.
You can do this because greatness is in you, you just have to find it. Remember Sir Loinsteak? Remember how his traits were in you all along, he just helped bring them out? Well, now it’s your turn to find new strengths, and you won’t do that sitting here in bed feeling sorry for yourself.’
‘But what if I don’t make it? What do I do if I can’t be a knight?’
His mother shook her head.
‘I don’t know. But I do know that you will be great at whatever it may be, and I do know that it will be something that allows you to help others, because your heart would not have it any other way.’
Pete considered this for a moment before his thoughts returned to training.
‘They’ll laugh at me again.’
‘Maybe, but maybe not. Maybe when you show up after such a hard day they’ll admire you and look up to you.’
‘Nah. I’m pretty sure they’ll laugh at me.’
‘And if they do? You are Sir Pete McGee, a brave and noble knight! Rise above them. Who are they to laugh at you anyway? Now, I don’t often do this, but I am ordering you. I am ordering you to go to Sir Mountable’s house, get him moving and get him training you the way you deserve to be trained. NOW!’
With that Mrs McGee ripped the covers off the bed and Pete was left there smiling in pyjamas and pillow-hair. His mum had done it, and he would do it. He didn’t even really know what it was yet, but he would do it, starting with getting Sir Mountable ready to go.
Four days. Four days that began on the day Pete’s mum got him all fired up about knight-training. Four days of what Pete imagined hell would be like, without the fire and devils and stuff. Four days of downward spiralling. Four days Pete McGee remembered in the following manner.
Day 1. Pete McGee raced over to Sir Mountable’s home, where he threw a carrot to the goat. It landed right in the goat’s food trough. Pete ran through the door, jumping into a pose as he called out to his knight. Sir Mountable was, once again, lying face down on the couch. Pete shook him and yelled at him … no response. Just a couple of groans and a ‘Come back tomorrow, I�
�m sleeping.’
Pete turned up at the castle, alone again. The other knights laughed … again. Pete was made to run ten laps of the castle grounds. As he did so, the other knights trained in sword-fighting. Pete completed nine laps, still shuffling on the last two of them, and collapsed again.
Pete limped home. Tried ten times to get up onto Horsey Horse Horse. Fell down ten times.
Day 2. Pete McGee jogged over to Sir Mountable’s home. He threw a carrot to the goat. It bounced off the food trough onto the ground. Pete walked through the door. Sir Mountable was standing on the kitchen table searching for something on the roof. He raised a finger to his lips to indicate Pete should be quiet, and then he mimed giant spiders running around everywhere. Pete slapped his head and walked to the castle, alone again.
The other trainees laughed at him. Larson Smithers threw a water-filled bag that exploded on Pete’s head, soaking him. More laughter. Other trainees did fitness-training and shield work. Pete once again had to run ten laps. Although still shuffling at the end, he actually did the ten laps before collapsing.
Pete limped home. Tried nine times to get up onto Horsey Horse Horse. Fell down nine times. Horsey Horse Horse rolled his eyes and went to get a drink.
Day 3. Pete McGee walked over to Sir Mountable’s house. He threw a carrot to the goat. It hit the wall of the house and landed in the flowers (when I say flowers, I mean weeds). Pete walked through the front door to see Sir Mountable, an ale still in hand, riding a chair as though it were a horse and holding a broomstick as though it were a jousting stick.
‘I am after the giraffes!’ Sir Mountable yelled. ‘I must protect the King from the giraffes!’
Pete sighed and walked to the castle, alone again.
The other trainees didn’t even bother laughing any more. Larson Smithers made a half-hearted attempt at name-calling, but even for him, ‘Where’s your knight, McGee? It has me stumped, just like your arm,’ was a pretty poor effort. Pete set off to run ten laps of the castle grounds without even being asked. It rained. The other trainees worked on weight-training and horse-riding. Pete couldn’t bear to see them on a horse. He ran some parts of the laps with his eyes closed. He ran into a pole. He completed the ten laps with minor shuffling, a minor headache and black eye, but no collapse.
Pete limped home. Tried five times to get up on Horsey Horse Horse. Fell down five times. Horsey Horse Horse even used his nose to try and boost Pete up, but nothing worked. Pete fell asleep on the ground.
Day 4. Pete walked over to Sir Mountable’s house. He threw a carrot to the goat without looking. It stuck on one of the goat’s horns. The goat tried to eat it, couldn’t, and twisted itself into knots trying. Pete opened the door, glanced in, saw Sir Mountable fully clothed and asleep in the bathtub, rolled his eyes and walked to the castle, alone again.
The other trainee knights worked on their sword-fighting. Pete ran ten laps of the castle grounds. During the laps, Larson Smithers snuck away from the main group and sewed together the one arm on Pete’s jacket. Pete completed the ten laps easier than ever, but didn’t even notice his improvement.
Alone in the change rooms after his run, Pete collected up his jacket just as Larson Smithers walked in. A grin crossed Smithers’ face when he saw Pete.
‘What are you doing, McGee? Why don’t you give up and go home?’
Pete stood up tall, ignoring his tiredness, and faced his tormentor.
‘I would not give thee the pleasure,’ he said, keeping his anger in check and his voice proud.
Smithers walked over, standing toe-to-toe with Pete.
‘Do you know why I want you to fail, McGee?’ he asked.
Pete, for an instant, half expected Smithers to say it was because he saw Pete as great competition, that he was scared Pete would show him up. Smithers dashed that.
‘It’s because you’re dangerous. I know you’ve done all these la-dee-da wonderful things, and I know you think you can fight and be like us normal people and all, but you can’t. You only have one arm. Don’t you get it? People die because of you. That magic knight died. King Cyril died. Even your mother died. I don’t want to die because of you, McGee. I only want to fight with knights that are whole.’
Pete was ready to explode. He held back though; fighting another trainee knight was strictly forbidden. He also knew Smithers was wrong. He knew he could and would be a great knight, that he would protect the people he loved, that they would live because of him. After such a tough week though, doubts did begin to seep in. Smithers threw one last comment at Pete before leaving.
‘Enjoy your jacket, McGee. I hope you have enough skill to at least put that on.’
Pete looked at his jacket and realised the joke. Ha ha. Sewn-up sleeve. Classic. Well played, Sir. (In case you didn’t notice, that was sarcastic praise!)
He walked home, carrying the jacket he couldn’t wear.
The wind had a chill factor of A LOT. In other words, it was really cold.
Pete tried twice to get on to Horsey Horse Horse. They were feeble attempts, neither of them really caring any more. In fact, Horsey Horse Horse just kept eating grass while Pete tried to jump up on his back, and the horse barely even glanced to see how he was going.
Pete fell into bed, tired and depressed.
And so that brings us to the end of the first week of Pete McGee’s life as a squire, a trainee knight. It was devastating for him. He had decided, after chatting with his mother, that he would make a real go of it, and he was still determined to do so. But he was going through the motions by the end of the week.
What he hadn’t noticed was that he was actually getting a lot fitter, and was running further and faster than ever before. He may not have cared even if he had noticed.
He lay in bed, wondering what the next week would bring. Little did he know, it would bring surprises, good and bad, and that his entire life was about to change.
While the trainee knights trained, so too did the zombie knights. They trained, and they fought each other, and they learned what their new undead beings were capable of. They realised very quickly that they had far greater strength now than when they had been alive. They also realised that they enjoyed the taste of blood and brains, the eating of which gave them strength and stamina. They didn’t require sleep, so they trained night and day, and their skills increased at a rapid speed.
Sir Charge watched as he took a break from training. They were a fine order, and not only were their skills increasing, but so was their thirst for battle. And so was their thirst for darkness. Nobility and honour was becoming a thing of the past. They were a new order now, and the Black Knights did not live for nobility and honour. They lived for themselves, for power, and for chaos.
Except for that damn Sir Vyvor.
Every day he would come up to Sir Charge and go on and on about how he had noticed the other knights changing. He would go on and on about honour and valour. Sir Charge would listen, assure Sir Vyvor that he would do something about it, and then he would talk to the other knights about their path to the Wilderene Flower, once they actually discovered its location.
They would go to the flower via the villages and towns on the way, wreaking whatever destruction and feeding on whatever brains they could.
Once they had the flower, they would not return it to the oak. They would use its powers to increase their strength even more, and they would create terror in the land. They would be the greatest order of knights ever to have lived, sort of, and they would rule as no others had ruled, through fear and terror and guts and brains.
or once, on the first morning of the second week of training, Sir Mountable was in a reasonable condition when Pete turned up at his house. This meant he was awake, had eaten breakfast, was only mildly hungover, and had brushed his hair and beard.
Also for once, Sir Mountable said he would join Pete in training at the castle, although he did ask why Pete wanted to become a knight at all. Pete let that one pass by with no response. He was just so ha
ppy he was finally going to have his knight at the castle. He was just so happy he would be able to join in training with the other knights. His doubts and depression of the previous week disappeared. He was ready to go.
Pete had walked Horsey Horse Horse all the way to Sir Mountable’s, and now he walked him to the castle. Every now and again Sir Mountable asked Pete why he wasn’t riding the horse. Pete would make up a different excuse each time, none of which gave away the real reason … that he couldn’t get up on the thing!
‘Oh, you know, he’s pretty tired. I thought I would just let him walk.’
‘Well, my knees are extra bony today, and I don’t want to hurt his side.’
‘I have made an appointment for the horse chiropractor for this afternoon, and I don’t want to do anything that may change the curve in his spine before then.’
‘The clouds are flowing eastward.’
‘It’s a Monday.’
Sir Mountable didn’t question any of these excuses. He just nodded and stroked his beard.
‘But why a knight, boy? Why do you want to become a knight?’
Pete didn’t need hesitations or excuses here. He simply stopped walking, stood tall and spoke.
‘Because to be a knight is to be respected by others. It is to have honour, values and nobility. Because to be a knight is to fight for what is right, and to defeat evil. Because the greatest person I have known, besides my mum, was a knight. Because I want the world to see how great I can be, that I can be great, even with one arm … and because knights have really cool armour.’
He threw that last bit in just for fun. Sir Mountable didn’t laugh though. He simply nodded, stroked his beard, and started walking again. Pete, a little flushed from his speech, smiled and walked after him, Horsey Horse Horse trotting at his side.
They reached the castle.
They were early. No other knights or trainees were there. Pete put Horsey Horse Horse in the stable for the trainees’ horses.
