by Daniel Fife
Rigil gave her little heed as his hand slipped around the swirl of the hilt and pulled it halfway out of the scabbard. However, before he could pull the blade out all the way, a blur of movement, too quick to follow, caught Danny's attention, a bright silver gauntlet stayed Rigil's hand.
Danny followed the armored arm up to the smiling face of Sir Syndil Sartak Tribolari.
"Did you not hear the lady, Squire Rigil?" Sir Syndil asked, forcing the blade back into the sheath. "I do believe the young lady asked you to stop."
"Ma lord, Sir Syndil," said Rigil, dropping his gaze, kneeling.
Danny felt a tug at his shoulder as Sabrina materialized beside him, placing a worried hand on him.
"Are you alright?"
Danny looked himself over, shrugged and said, "I'm fine." After enduring her shocked look, he added, "It's good to see you."
Sabrina's face transitioned from concern to annoyance; Danny knew that he was in for a scolding. However, before she could respond, Sir Syndil broke the silence.
"That was well-executed," the Elf said, after releasing Rigil, intending the comment for Danny. "It is past time you returned to your barracks, Squire," he said, addressing Rigil, keeping his gaze upon Danny.
"At once, Sir Syndil," grumbled Rigil, after standing. Before turning toward the exit, he shot Danny a glare, "This isn't over, newb."
"Now, Squire," said Sir Syndil in a harsh tone.
Not waiting to be told a third time, Squire Rigil turned and stalked off.
"Squire Rigil is a fourth-year squire, a lieutenant in Dragon Army, quite capable in the hand-to-hand arena," Sir Syndil said, once the larger squire was out of earshot. "How is it that you, a first-year, managed to get the upper hand, Squire Firoth?"
"I would like to know as well," said Sabrina.
Danny became self-conscious as a small crowd began to gather around him. Danny decided to play it off as if nothing much had happened; he placed his right hand on the back of his head, smiled and said, "Just luck, I guess."
"You must be quite lucky then," a calm voice said from behind, thick with a British accent.
Danny turned to find Squire Vyce Ven Lasko, Captain of Dragon Army, making his way through the crowd.
"Professor Syndil, sir," Vyce said with a respectful tone as he stepped into the circle and stopped beside Danny. "Squire Rigil is one of my four lieutenants and quite skilled, Squire…"
"Danny Firoth," Danny added with a nervous smile.
"Squire Firoth," continued Vyce, turning toward Danny. "I find it hard to believe that he could be caught off-guard by the abilities of a mere first-year."
"Perhaps he underestimated me just as you're doing now," Danny shot back.
"Perhaps," Vyce said, without the slightest hint of emotion. "…Perhaps." He gave Danny his back. "Dragon Army, to me!" His deep voice carried through the dining hall. Assured of his command, he walked toward the exit without looking back to see if those he directed followed behind, which they did.
"I have to go," said Sabrina, her uneven tone betraying her desire to talk to Danny.
"What, just because he says so?" Danny asked, obviously annoyed.
"Squire Lasko is my captain," Sabrina said, as if the statement said it all. "Good luck tomorrow, Danny," she added, before turning and joining the rest of the red-robed squires of Dragon Army.
Unsure of what to say, he simply said, "You, too."
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Chapter 16 - The First Day of Training
anny stirred at the sound of the seventeenth chime. Rubbing his eyes and stretching out on the soft bed, he had every intention of going back to sleep.
Chris had other plans. He shoved Danny roughly, "Wake up, man."
Danny was almost awake by the eighteenth bell. Yawning once, he groggily dressed himself in the robes of a squire and strapped his sword around his waist. After waiting for Matt to do the same, they all descended to breakfast and ate their hearty fill.
Danny noticed that the three boys and two girls that had missed breakfast yesterday were now early. Calador stood at the head of the table; his ghostly gaze looked beyond as if he observed everything, despite his handicap.
The common hall was strangely quiet with only the subtle sounds of whispered chatter breaking up the constant noise of chomping mouths and clanging silverware. Like Danny, the rest of the squires were nervous about the coming day.
Pushing his plate away, slumping back in his chair, Matt asked, "I wonder what we get to do first?"
"I hope it's technique class," said Chris, fingering the hilt of the sword strapped across his back. "I can't wait to learn how to use this."
"Just, please, don't let it be physical training," said Matt with a slight smirk, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.
Before anything else could be said, the double doors flew open, a tall man stood there in full, gleaming plate mail. Danny recognized the man as Sir Fredrick, the knight assigned to give physical training classes.
"Seriously?" said Matt, recognizing him as well, he let out an agonizing groan.
Sir Fredrick turned and closed both doors behind him, revealing the huge greatsword that lined his broad back. Turning back toward the curious stares of the squires, he bellowed a deep-toned command: "Stand to!"
Danny watched as a few squires, including Briza, jumped up, locked their heels together, positioned their arms at their sides and held their heads up high, looking forward. Others looked on in confusion as Sir Fredrick stalked to the edge of the table. "Look to the more experienced of your group!" Sir Fredrick yelled, his throaty voice echoing throughout the hall. "When I say stand to, you should look like this," he said, rounding the table, coming to stand next to Briza. "This young squire is the perfect example of what you should all look like when I call you to attention."
A small smirk crossed Briza's face in light of the compliment.
"Well, what are you waiting for, an invitation?" Sir Fredrick barked. "Stand to!"
Not waiting to be told a third time, every squire in the hall stood and went rigid in the pose exemplified by Briza.
"Better," grumbled Sir Fredrick as he perused the stance of every squire, walking around the common hall. "Arms at your side," he corrected one squire. "Chin up," he said to another. Completing his circle, he came to stand next to Calador at the head of the table. "This is a sorry lot," he said to the Elf, his eyes remained focused on the mass of squires.
"They can be taught."
"It seems there are less and less Lightborn every year."
"Then it is up to us to see that these select few carry on the tradition."
Sir Fredrick grunted in response. "I am Sir Fredrick Ferdessa, Knight of the Light, professor of physical training!" he yelled. "From this point forward, your bodies belong to me and I will mold them to my heart's desire. Rest assured, by the time I am done with you, you will be agile and strong. If you wish to stay on my good side, something that I assure you is in your best interest, you need do only one thing, never give up. I will push you to your limits and further. I will force you to endure pain, the likes of which you have never felt. Do not give up. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Sir Fredrick," the group of squires said halfheartedly.
"By the Light, say it like you mean it!" bellowed Sir Fredrick, his voice booming like a thunderclap.
"Yes, Sir Fredrick!" every squire yelled in a harmonious burst of sound.
Sir Fredrick grunted, placed his hands on his hips, and said, "That will have to do." After a moment, he continued, "The position you currently find yourself in is known as a stance of readiness. You will assume this position whenever you hear the command, stand to! You will come to know this position well, I suggest you take a moment to allow the placement of your body to sink in." Allowing a deepening silence to spread throughout the hall, Sir Fredrick gave the squires thirty seconds to digest his words as well as breakfast.
"Good, in a matter of minutes, your training will begin. We will start the day
off with a light run, followed by an exercise designed to build the muscles you will need to wield those blades properly. Are there any questions before we begin?"
Danny looked to his left as Matt's right hand trembled into the air.
"Yes?"
"I'm Squire..." Matt began, only to be interrupted by Sir Fredrick.
"I care not for your names!" Sir Fredrick yelled, addressing every squire in the hall. "Words and titles do not impress me, actions impress me. I shall learn who you are through the strength and prowess you show me, nothing more, nothing less. Now, with that said, by all means, ask your question, Squire."
Matt hesitated.
"Perhaps, I have already answered your question. Is this true, Squire?"
Matt shook his head from side to side.
"Then, speak now!"
"Should we…" Matt started again in a hushed tone.
"Speak up, Squire!" Sir Fredrick barked, interrupting again.
Clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses, Matt tried a third time in a louder voice. "Should we leave our swords in our rooms for the run, sir?"
Sir Fredrick stared at Matt for what seemed like an eternity before bursting into a hearty fit of laughter.
Unsure of the preferred response, Matt looked to Danny for encouragement. However, Danny was just as confused; he shrugged in response.
"This guy is nuts," Doug whispered.
"I never thought I'd say it, but I'd much rather have Mr. Ingram here than him," said Danny in the same quiet voice.
"I kind of like him," said Chris.
"Me, too," said Anthony.
Before anyone else could comment, Sir Fredrick's expression of amusement vanished; his features returned to the stern expression he wore previously. Leveling his intimidating gaze toward Matt, he said, "No, Squire, I am afraid you will need your weapon for the run. You see, a Knight of the Light keeps his blade with him at all times. Your weapon is your life. It is an extension of your body, where your body goes, so does your blade." Sir Fredrick allowed his stare to sweep across the rest of the squires as he asked, "Are there any other questions?"
Silence was his answer.
"Good, then fall out and form two lines facing the Great Dome." Many hesitated, causing him to insist with a forceful, "Now!"
Unwilling to wait for the third command, the rest of the squires joined the others just outside the double doors of the barracks. Chaotically, at first, the group of squires melded into two lines. Danny found a place toward the back, with Chris behind him, Matt in front of him, Doug beside him and Alonso and Anthony finding a spot in the rear.
The sun, blocked by the swirling black clouds formed by the Eye, lingered somewhere out of sight; the only hint of its presence was the morning amber light that littered the blue atmosphere above.
"Stand to!" Sir Fredrick commanded. He strolled from the barracks and made his way down each line in turn. With a jerk here and a soft shove there, he forced everyone into the proper formation, straightening each line perfectly. Once satisfied, he took his position at the head of the columns. "We have a mile run ahead of us, Squires. Some of you are not used to this kind of training, many of you will have no choice but to show your weakness. Jog, walk or crawl, if you have to, but do not give up. The rest of the group must set their pace to the slowest member, for a chain is only as strong as the weakest link. Are there any questions before we begin?"
"Shouldn't we stretch before running?" a familiar voice asked from beside Danny.
Danny turned to find that Doug had stepped out of line to ask his question.
Sir Fredrick paced evenly toward Doug, stopping within striking distance of the much smaller boy. Only then did he answer with a question of his own. "Tell me, Squire, were I your enemy, do you think I would allow you the time to stretch before I attacked?"
"I don't know you well enough to answer that, Sir Fredrick," said Doug in an even honest tone.
A small smile crossed Sir Fredrick's face. "…A fair enough answer, Squire." The tall knight studied Doug for a moment before continuing. "Yes, I would allow such time as is needed to prepare for I am a Knight of the Light and I fight with honor. However, our enemies are not Knights of the Light and they will not fight with honor. Your body must learn to react without preparedness. This cannot be taught by words, it must be learned through muscle memory, experience, discipline and hard work."
"So . . . you're saying that we aren't going to stretch?"
"Fall back in line, Squire, for we are wasting good daylight!"
Reluctantly, Doug obeyed the command, his face showing the resolve to argue. He kept his tongue.
Sir Fredrick strode back to the head of the two lines, his suit of plate mail jingling with each stride.
"Is he going to run in that armor?" whispered Alonso.
"He's insane," commented Doug.
"I still like him," said Chris.
"Me, too," agreed Anthony.
Unsure of his own feelings on the subject, Danny kept any comments to himself.
"Are there any other questions?" Sir Fredrick asked, turning back to face the formation of squires. When no response was forthcoming, he put his hands on his hips and said, "Good. Then I will assume that you are ready."
The only thing Danny was quite sure of was that he was definitely not ready. However, once again, he kept that fact to himself.
Doug and Matt, on the other hand, groaned in reluctance as Sir Fredrick took off at a brisk run, the two columns of squires followed reluctantly behind him.
A mile later, Sir Fredrick slowed to a walk before stopping in front of a towering curve that formed the base of the Great Dome. Huffing and puffing, the once-straight lines of squires, now chaotic and disorganized, happily stopped dead in their tracks.
Danny slumped over, placing his hands on his knees as his body begged for air.
Chris, Alonso and Anthony, all three used to training, looked only somewhat winded as they took long deep breaths.
Matt and Doug were nearly on their last leg as they slumped to the ground and sprawled out prone. They weren't alone, others followed suit. During the mile-long trek, both had fallen behind at least once, causing the group to slow, a fact that most didn't seem to mind.
"A decent first run," said Sir Fredrick, turning to face the group.
Danny noticed that, despite wearing a suit of plate mail and carrying a Bonded greatsword, Sir Fredrick didn't even seem to be winded in the least. His breathing was slow and calm, as if he had just taken a leisurely stroll around the block.
"Who can tell me where we are?"
Briza's slender arm came up in response.
"Yes, Squire," Sir Fredrick acknowledged, pointing Briza out from the rest of the squires.
"The Great Dome, Sir Fredrick," she said. Her voice was calm and her breathing was focused, she, too, had been un-affected by the run.
"And what is the Great Dome used for?"
Briza's hand shot up once again. However, Sir Fredrick called upon another squire, a boy with brown hair who was standing toward the front.
"The Great Dome is where the eight armies compete in mock battles," said the squire through haggard breaths.
"Compete for what?" Sir Fredrick asked.
Briza's hand ascended once again.
With no other choice in sight, Sir Fredrick called upon her.
"…The Chalice of Light, Sir Fredrick."
"Do any of you wish to be a member of the army that eventually wins the Chalice of Light?"
"Yes," said the mass of squires, some with a groan and others whispering. The defining voice belonged to Briza.
"I will attribute such a weak response to your current conditions, Squires," said Sir Fredrick, crossing his arms. "If you so desire to earn the Chalice of Light, it begins right here, right now. Train hard and become strong." After waiting for a moment in order to allow his message to sink in, he began again. "The Great Dome is made up of five inner chambers. The main chamber, located in the middle, the largest of
the five, is used to determine which of the eight armies is worthy enough to receive the Chalice of Light through a series of simulated battles. The other four chambers are used for training; it is within one of these four chambers that I will introduce you to the weapon you carry. Now, stand to!"
Caught off-guard by the sudden command, many of the squires, including Matt and Doug, rose to their feet too slow and assumed the recently learned position.
"I am afraid that simply will not do, Squires." Sir Fredrick frowned. "You two, you, and you three," he said, pointing to six squires in particular, two of which were Matt and Doug, "you all look very tired," he said in a mockingly sympathetic voice. "Please return to your resting positions on the ground."
Matt and Doug reluctantly followed the actions of the other four squires and sat back down.
"Better?" Sir Fredrick asked in a soft voice. However, before any of the six could even contemplate an answer, he yelled out, "Stand to!"
Quicker than Danny would've thought possible, Doug and Matt jumped up and fashioned their bodies into the appropriate position.
Sir Fredrick smiled widely. "Good. Now that you are all warmed up, we can really begin."
"The run was just a warm-up?" whispered Matt, his tone full of despair.
"I'm way past warmed up," said Doug in the same hushed tone.
"…To me, Squires!" Sir Fredrick yelled, marching off toward a pair of white doors, hauling them open. "…This way!"
Upon entering the Great Dome, Danny noted a high, sloping ceiling and a vast courtyard full of rich green grass. However, the most striking feature within was a series of small boulders placed in ascending rows from smallest to largest. The smallest were around the size of a watermelon, while the larger ones were about the size of a compact car.
"Pick a stone, Squires," said Sir Fredrick, closing the doors behind him. "I suggest that you choose one according to the size of the blade you wield. For example, those of you with lighter weapons, rapiers and scimitars, should keep in mind the option of one of the smaller stones. For those of you with heavier blades, bastardswords or greatswords, it would be more beneficial for you to choose a larger stone."
