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The Squires of
Telisan Keep

1 – Mikel

Mikel stood at the edge of the valley looking down upon the castle and the small town that shared its name. Here, he thought to himself, was where his destiny would be made. It was here he would get the training to avenge his family and his best friend.

The road into Telisan was crowded, but Mikel picked his way through the slower moving families and merchants easily. A chatty merchant told him that normally only a few hundred people or so lived in town, with a couple hundred more living a mile [1½ km] away at the castle. The merchant predicted that tomorrow there would be closer to two thousand people here for the quadrennial King's Day Festival.

After making his way down to the floor of the valley, he headed to the fairgrounds that had been set up between the town and the castle and entered the Squire Games. The Squire Games would be held on Mid Summer's Day, the day before King's Day. Most Mid Summer's Day Festivals would start in the morning with a ceremony where the Squires that had successfully and honorably completed their four year apprenticeship would be knighted. Next, the young noble boys between the ages of eight and fifteen would compete in Page and Squire Tournaments. The Tournaments for each year of boys would be followed by a jousting tournament among the Knights. In the evening the Knights would chose the eight-year-old boys, to serve as Pages, and the twelve-year-old boys, to serve as Squires, for the next four years.

Every fourth year, there was an extra day, called King's Day, added to the calendar on the day after Mid Summer's Day. The Priestesses had told Mikel that the extra day helped keep the calendar matched to the seasons, and had been established by King Selarn the First. It was originally called King Selarn's Day, but over the centuries was shortened to King's Day. So, instead of taking place on Mid Summer's Day, the tournaments and choosing would take place on King's Day. With the Page, Squire, and Knights' Tournaments taking place on King's Day, the Mid Summer's Day festivities consisted of various games and contests for the peasants, merchants, and men-at-arms. The highlight of the day were the competitions for the peasant boys called the Page Games and Squire Games. The winner of each tournament was allowed to compete in the Tournaments with the noble boys the next day and earn the chance to be chosen by a Knight to become his Page or Squire. This was the only way a common boy could become a noble outside of a royal decree by the King.

The annual jousting tournament for the Knights on Mid Summer's Day was replaced by the Lord's Tournament on King's Day. The Champion of the Lord's Tournament would earn the title of Lord's Champion and have the responsibility of defending and fighting for the Lord's honor for four years until the next King's Day. The position of Lord's Champion was the highest honor a landless Knight could obtain. Also, the Lord's Champion could compete in tournaments held by Dukes and the King. Success in a Duke's Tournament or the King's Tournament could earn a grant of land and the title of Lord.

After entering his name on the list for competing in the Squire Games, Mikel wandered the fairgrounds and took in the sights. His stomach growled as the boy smelt the aroma of roasting pig coming from one of the open air taverns that had been set up. He was standing and staring at the roasting pig when he a hand landed on his shoulder. "Excuse me lad, could you grant this humble musician a few moments of your time?" asked a voice from behind him.

Mikel looked back to see a handsome young man, perhaps twenty years old. His clothing and the lute across his back marked him as a minstrel. He had shoulder length brown hair and piercing blue eyes that made Mikel feel like the man was looking into his soul. "The name's Durren," said the minstrel. "I'm a traveling bard and I am working on composing a song about the boys that compete in the Squire Games. I noticed you signing up for the games and I was wondering if I could ask you some questions over lunch and a beer, my treat," he explained as he guided Mikel towards the tavern. The offer of food and a drink were more than enough to win Mikel's agreement.

The tavern was nothing more than several rows of tables under a large tent where the fair visitors could get some food and a cheap drink from a hastily constructed tap house. Introductions were exchanged while Durren bought Mikel a beer and a plate of roast pork. After the hungry youth had finished the meat and was starting to savor the beer, the bard started in on the questions.

"Did you compete in the Page's Games four years ago?" he asked.

"No," replied Mikel.

"Why not?" asked Durren.

"My folks needed me to work at the farm and didn't let me come," answered Mikel.

"And they let you come this year?" asked Durren.

"No, they were killed two years ago by orcs. The land we farmed was near the swamp, and one night an orc raiding party slipped past the patrols," explained Mikel, doing his best to keep the pain of the memories bottled up.

Durren reached over and put his hand on the boys arm, "My condolences. How did you manage to survive the attack?"

"One of the horses was due to birth, so I was sleeping in the stable to keep an eye on it. When the orcs attacked I hid." A tear started to leak out but Mikel brushed it away. He was about to say more but stopped.

"Where have you been living since then?" asked Durren, hoping to prompt the boy to continue on a less painful subject.

"With the Priestesses of the Temple of the Harvest. They didn't approve of me coming to the Games and wanted me to stay and serve the order. They told me if I left for the Games, I could never come back. So if I don't win…," said Mikel as he fought to retain his composure.

Durren got up and quickly made his way around the table, sliding into the seat next to the boy. He wrapped his arm around the boy and pulled him tight. "Don't worry boy, just try your best and never give up. I am sure a fine young man such as you will land on his feet no matter happens. Now relax and enjoy the fair!" The warm embrace and words of advice from the bard calmed Mikel, and the boy even managed a smile.

They finished their beers while talking about less painful things, like the fair and the weather. Durren invited the boy to spend the night with him at the inn in town where Durren was performing in exchange for a room. It would give the boy a place to get a good night's sleep before the Squire Games, as well as a proper supper. Mikel thanked the bard and told him that he would see him at the inn that evening. Mikel spent the rest of the afternoon hiking up to Telisan Keep to take a look at the castle that watched over the town from a small hilltop about a mile [1½ km] away. He hoped that soon he would live in the castle, serving a Knight and learning how to fight.

Later that evening, Mikel ate dinner and had a glass of wine with Durren back at the inn where Durren was performing. After they had finished, the bard was pressed into service by the innkeeper. Durren sang while playing his lute. Mikel thought he was very talented and the crowd enjoyed his performance. During his breaks, Durren would sit by Mikel, drink some more wine and answer the boy's questions. He told him of meeting Lord Velarik and how the Lord was a very good man with a kind heart. Mikel asked if any of the Knights would be willing to pick a commoner for a Squire, his voice fraught with worry. Durren told him to concentrate on winning the Squire Games before worrying about impressing a Knight, and that if he were to win the Squire Games he would certainly capture the fancy of one of the Knights for he had captured his. The flattery from the bard, combined with the wine, caused Mikel to blush and laugh.

Mikel eventually fell asleep in his chair by the fire while Durren was still singing for the crowd. After he was done for the night, he picked up the boy and carried him to his room. Mikel stirred a little as the minstrel laid him on the bed and climbed in next to him. He felt Durren stroke his hair and thought he heard him whispering something into his ear but in his dreamlike state he could not quite make out the words.

He started to dream of the night, two years ago, when his family was killed. He had told Durren about being in the stable, but what he held back was that he was there with Wilrik, another ten year old boy from the neighboring farm. Wilrik had come to keep Mikel company that night. The boys were best friends, and whenever they got the chance they liked to sneak off together to pretend they were a couple. Having been raised in large single room houses, the boys were used to seeing their parents coupling. The boys very much enjoyed imitating what they had seen by lying on top of each other and rubbing their naked bodies against each other.

This dream felt different to Mikel from his other dreams. He was looking upon it as if watching strangers in a play. He saw himself lying under Wilrik as the two boys rubbed their crotches against each other. The two boys looked similar even to Mikel, the main difference was Wilrik was a few pounds heavier and had slightly lighter hair, a dark brown to Mikel's black. As Wilrik was approaching a dry climax, the door to the stables burst open. Wilrik jumped up while Mikel, thinking it was his father or one of his older brothers, sat and covered himself with his hands. He looked at the door and was shocked to see a pair of orcs entering the barn. Panic gripped Mikel and he scooted backwards through the hay. His mind raced, Don't see me, don't notice me, I'm not here. Wilrik screamed and bolted towards the door trying to race past the orcs to freedom. The orcs were not surprised though. The one on the right quickly lashed out, striking the boy in the head, knocking him out. The orc reached down and picked up the limp boy. The other orc walked through the stable peering around and looking in the various stalls. Mikel froze as the orc seemed to look directly at him for a moment before moving on. The two orcs spoke to each other in a guttural language then left.

As the dream was ending, Mikel could start to make out the details of the room, for a brief second he thought he could see an image in the mirror across from the bed. It looked like the backs of the two orcs, one carrying Wilrik, as they left the barn. But before he could be sure of what he saw, he felt Durren's hand stroking his hair again, this time he recognized the word the bard whispered into his ear, "sleep."

When Mikel woke up the next morning on Mid Summer's Day, Durren was gone. There was a note next to the bed. Mikel was grateful that the priestesses had be so insistent that he learn to read.

Mikel,
I am sorry that I had to leave without saying goodbye. Duty calls and I must answer. Unfortunately my song will have to wait. I hope our paths will cross again. There is breakfast for you on the table. Good luck in the games, trust your instincts, and DO NOT GIVE UP NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS. Everything will work out as the Gods have planned, but it never hurts to ask The Gambler for a bit of his luck!

Durren

2 – Rynil

It was 'The Dream' again. He was standing guard over the body of someone that was either dead or unconscious. Looking down at his own body, he could see he must be older since he was taller and bigger. He was wearing the armor of a Knight and held a glowing sword in two hands. He did not know what happened to his shield or if he had ever had one. The glow of the sword cut through a few feet of the darkness that surrounded him. There were things, moving in the darkness just out of the reach of his sword. Occasionally the darkness would seem to materialize into the shape of a wolf like creature and it would leap at him, or try to reach the body he was guarding. Rynil would swipe at the creature with his sword and the instant it made contact, the creature would vanish. This went on for what felt like forever and each time the creature would rush out of the darkness Rynil's stroke would be a bit slower as the sword grew heavier in his tired arms.

Just when he thought he could not last any longer and the next time the creature would surely reach the body, he saw the darkness lifting as the coming dawn finally started to light the sky. But this provided no comfort to Rynil, for he knew how the dream ended; it always ended the same way. As the sun rose and the darkness finally cleared, a man came forward. He was tall and muscular, with the body of a man and the horned head of a demon. The demon was dressed in flowing black robes. Its eyes burned with an internal fire, and Rynil heard its laughter ringing in his mind before it spoke without speaking, "You have fought bravely young one, but your struggle has been wasted. Your love will be mine!" Then it raised its hands and flames shot out towards Rynil.

Rynil woke drenched in sweat, momentarily disoriented. It had been several weeks since he last had The Dream. He got up from his small cot and went to the window. He opened the shutters and looked out the tower window and saw the sun was just starting to rise. He always woke from the dream just as the sun started to rise. Sir Alred's room had an eastern facing window so that it would be quickly warmed in the morning during winter and not get to hot from the afternoon sun in the summer. Since this was the morning of Mid Summer's Day, the chill would not be a concern for the elderly Knight or his Page Rynil.

After opening the shutters, Rynil took a look around the room where he had spent most of the last four years caring for Sir Alred. Only the small cot and a chest for his belongings were his, the rest of the room was devoted to the care and comfort of his Knight. Sir Alred seemed dwarfed by the bed as the frail, crippled Knight slept. Sir Alred had been knocked off his horse during a battle against bandits and broken his back when he was younger. He had been expected to die since there had not been a priest nearby, but as his friends, most of who had long since passed away, used to say, 'Sir Alred was the toughest bastard there was'. True to their word, not even losing the use of his legs was enough to stop him. He had continued to serve as a military adviser for many years after his injury, and his insight and keen mind had served well in battles, even though his body could not. Eventually age took its toll and he had retired. The last few years he had been bed ridden and his health declined further.

A soft voice spoke from under the covers of the bed, "You have that dream again?"

"Yes, Sir. I hope I did not cry out and disturb your sleep Sir," replied Rynil as he went over and fetched the wash basin and a rag, bringing them with him to the bedside.

Sir Alred turned his head towards the sound of the boy's approach, "Nonsense, you never cry out during your dream. I felt the breeze when you opened the shutters. You always open the shutters first thing after you have the dream. And you did not wake me, I have been awake for at least an hour."

"My apologies Sir. You should have woken me," replied Rynil as he started to wash Sir Alred, shifting the spoiled bed linens as did so. Sir Alred struggled to focus his diminishing eyesight on the boy. Rynil had blond hair and green eyes. He had high cheekbones and a long nose, indicating some blood of the northerner nomad tribes. He was a little taller than average for a twelve year old and was already starting to put on muscle having lost most of his baby fat over the last year. Of the various Pages that had cared for him over the years Rynil was his favorite. Besides being intelligent, strong, and pretty to look at, the Page never once complained, sighed, or gave any indication at all that he resented the tasks required of him in caring for the disabled Knight. Of them all, Rynil was the one that did almost all the work himself, leaving little of it to the various servants that were just a shout away. The only time Rynil did not personally care for Sir Alred was when his attendance was required for the training that was required of a Page in order to be prepared to be a Squire, and eventual a Knight or when he was performing some chore around the castle. Sir Alred reached up with his left arm and stroked the boy's cheek as Rynil leaned over him to wash his right side, "I will miss your company, I hope Satchen is half the Page you have been."

"Do not fear Sir, I will be visiting you often, I enjoy your company and learn a lot about battles, strategy, and tactics from your stories. When I visit I will make sure Page Satchen is treating you right," promised Rynil.

"Nonsense boy. You will be a Squire and have a new Knight to take care of, new lessons to learn, new duties to perform, and please spend some time with others your own age. Enjoy your youth while you still have it. In fact, I order you to take the day off and go watch the peasants' games and prepare yourself for your Tournament tomorrow."

"Sir, I do not mind caring for you today. Please, it is an honor," protested Rynil.

"NO! This is a direct order; you must obey. Send in whichever servant is assigned to me today. After four years your service is at an end. Go, enjoy the day," commanded Sir Alred dismissing his Page.

Honor, duty, and loyalty demanded that Rynil obey his Knight's order; so he obeyed. He fetched the servant, instructed him of Sir Alred's needs for the day, then changed out of his Page's tunic and hose and into a plain shirt and trousers. He grabbed some breakfast from the castle's kitchen and made his way down to the fairgrounds in order to enjoy the celebration and watch the games.

There were almost a hundred boys between the ages of seven and thirteen milling about waiting for the games to begin. They were divided up into two groups by age, with the older boys competing for a spot in the first-year Squire's Tournament and the younger boys vying for a spot in the first-year Page's Tournament.

The Page Games were to be in the morning with the Squire Games taking place in the afternoon. There were about forty boys competing to have a chance at becoming a Page. The first game was particularly grueling for the boys competing, but fun for all the noble boys that had been Pages to watch. The younger boys were made to stand at attention, unmoving. The guardsmen then would walk in circles around the line of boys watching for the slightest movement. Any boy that moved was eliminated. Many of the current Pages and Squires felt it was their duty to help the judges and would point and yell if they saw any movement by the peasant boys.

Rynil joined several of the other soon to be Squires that had been given the day off. They sat on a fence near the contestants and called out to the boys trying to get them react. One of the noble boys, Mekrin, threw a couple rocks at the contestants before a guardsman came over and stood in front of him to hinder the noble boy's harassment of the peasant boys. The noble boys also hooted and hollered whenever one of the peasant boys moved. This game lasted about a half an hour until half the contestants had been eliminated.

The next contest was to relay spoken messages from one guardsman to another guard that was stationed across the fairgrounds. The boys were tested on both the time it took them to deliver the message and the accuracy with which they remembered the message. This game was not as fun to watch for the noble boys, so instead they wandered around the fairgrounds enjoying the various entertainers and other games, such as archery contests and barrel ball. Lunch consisted of roast pork and beer from one of the makeshift taverns. In the afternoon they made their way to where the Squire Games were to be held to see which one of the peasant boys would be competing with them tomorrow in the Squire's Tournament.

There were fifty-eight boys that had entered the Squire Games. The youngest was probably just under eleven and the oldest just under fourteen. A couple of the Lord's guardsmen were in charge of the games. They explained to the peasant boys how it would work. They would compete in a series of different contests. The first several contests would be races of various types. The last ten boys in each race would be out of the games. When there were just eight boys left, they would have a three round dueling tournament with the winner earning the right to compete with the noble boys in the Squire's Tournament on King's Day.

As Rynil looked over the boys, one in particular caught his eye. He was a boy of about twelve. He was slightly smaller than the others of the same age. He had black hair and blue eyes. He seemed vaguely familiar to Rynil as if they had met before, but he did not remember ever meeting the boy. He realized he was starting to stare, so he quickly turned away and started talking with the other noble boys.

The first race was a sprint across a field. As usual the slower, fatter boys were the first ones out. The next race was a test of endurance. The peasant boys had to run to the Castle and back. The Castle was about a mile [1½ km] away and up a hill. The boys were exhausted as they returned. Some had tried going fast early and burned themselves out and were barely able to finish. Rynil saw that the black haired boy finished fourth. Several of the larger boys had trouble keeping up with the lighter ones and were out.

The contestants were given a short rest before the next race, which was an obstacle course. They had to climb over fences, run through columns of archery targets, while archers were using them, and then through a large pool of mud, all while carrying a heavy pack on their back. The black haired boy was one of the first ones over the fences. Through the archery targets he seemed to just trust in fate and ran through without giving any indication he was watching or hesitating because of the arrows in flight. A wise move in Rynil's opinion, since he knew the archers were careful to make sure they did not actually hit any of the boys, but it was brave of the black haired boy none the less. In the mud puddle the weight of the backpack and mud seemed to be getting to him. A bunch of the other boys rushed past him, but after the mud he sprinted to the finish and was twenty-fifth out of thirty-eight.

The next event was a horse race. It was obvious to Rynil that many of the boys had never ridden a horse before. Although a few of the boys probably grew up working in stables or came from merchant families that had horses and were excellent riders. Rynil kept his eye on the black haired boy and it appeared that while not a great rider, the boy had ridden a horse before, most likely a plow horse. He finished fifth in the race. The competition was down to eighteen boys. One more race to get into the sparring tournament.

The final race was identical to the message race from the Page Games. Each message was worth one point for every word relayed correctly. The eight boys with the most points after fifteen minutes would make it into the sparring tournament. The black haired boy finished first as he apparently got every word of every message right. There were just eight boys left.

The crowd watching the games had been slowly growing all afternoon, but now that the fighting was going to take place it seemed to double in a matter of minutes. Also a couple Knights were now in the crowd to watch the fights. The boys were given suits of quilted armor, wooden shields, and wooden swords. The guardsman in charge explained the simple rules; "you can win by breaking one of your opponent's arms or legs, knocking him unconscious or senseless, or by forcing him to yield." There were four pairs of matched length straws that the boys drew from to determine the parings.

The black haired boy, who was one of the smaller boys still remaining, matched straws with a red haired boy. The black haired boy got the jump on the red haired boy. Swinging quickly, he was able to force the other boy backwards. He kept slashing away trying to slip his sword past the other boy's shield. The red hair boy blocked once with his sword and the impact sent it flying. The black haired boy did not let up, he swung wide avoiding the boy's shield and quickly hit the unarmed boy several times in the side and shoulder. The red haired boy yielded. Rynil frowned and several people in the audience grumbled about it not being very honorable to attack after the boy dropped his sword.

Next up were the two of the strongest looking boys left. Rynil looked over at the black haired boy and saw that he was watching the two boys fight, studying their every move since he would have to fight the winner in the next round. One was slightly older, probably nearing his fourteenth birthday. He used his strength and longer reach to keep the quicker one from getting close enough to score any blows. Eventually he was able to knock the quicker boy's shield aside with one blow, then on the backhand he caught his sword arm between the elbow and the wrist breaking it.

The other two matches were quick. One ended after a blow to the head knocked a boy unconscious. The last ended with the smaller of the two contestants yielding after a blow to his sword arm caused him to lose feeling in his hand.

The second round matches begun with a duel between the black haired boy and the strong brown haired boy nearing his fourteenth birthday. Every time the black haired boy tried to get close the larger boy would either jab his sword at the smaller boy's head or deliver a stinging strike to his shield as he stepped back. For several minutes he kept the smaller boy off balance and unable to deliver any good hits. The black haired boy seemed to be getting a bit tired and Rynil could see a look of desperation in his eyes. He made a half swing high with his sword then dived into a roll. The larger boy misjudged his intent and stepped forward, swinging at the black haired boy's head, missing by just an inch. The boy came out of his roll about a foot to the side of where the larger boy now stood. He swung as hard and as quickly as he could. His blow smashed into the back of the larger boy's knee. The boy crumpled to the ground and the crowd screamed in outrage. "Coward!", "He fights like a bandit!" were several of the shouts that stood out to Rynil. The black haired boy looked shocked and dismayed over the crowd's reaction. He walked out of the dueling circle and threw himself on the ground, burying his head between his knees.

The winner of the other match was a light brown haired boy of about thirteen. As the black haired boy entered the circle to face the other finalist, many in the crowd were shouting at him to yield, to forfeit, because no one would want such a dishonorable coward for a Squire. Rynil watched as despite having tears streaming down his face, the black haired boy steeled himself for battle.

The boys were evenly matched. They were about equal in strength and quickness. Rynil watched the black haired boy closely as he dueled. The tears had stopped and dried up as the boy was able to block out the jeers from the crowd and focus on the fight. Rynil saw that the black haired boy started to test the other boy's defenses. After just a few exchanges the trained fighter in Rynil saw that the brown haired boy was lowering his shield a couple inches every time he readied his sword for a strike. After the two traded attacks and blocks a couple more times, Rynil noticed the black haired boy give a little smile after the other boy attacked, had he discovered the other boy's weakness as well?

With lightening quickness the black haired boy swung a little bit higher right as his opponent begin his attack. As he turned away the other boy's attack with his shield, his own sword slipped over the lowered shield and struck the boy in the shoulder. Rynil recognized immediately that the shoulder was dislocated. The injured boy stepped back, looking down at his arm as he obviously struggled to try to raise his shield. The black haired boy jumped forward immediately and struck the boy in the head, knocking him out.

The crowd had been cheering for the brown haired boy and when he fell, the cheers turned to boos. The guardsman in charge of the games came and lead the black haired boy away.

Rynil went back to the castle with the other Pages and Squires, all of whom were talking about how dishonorable the winner of the Squire Games was. The few Pages who were of age to compete in the Squire Tournament started boasting about how badly they were going to beat him if they got matched against him, the loudest was Mekrin. After a night of youthful revelry, Rynil retired to Sir Alred's room. He checked on his Knight and found him sleeping peacefully. Rynil lay down on his cot and drifted off to sleep, troubled that he could not get the image of the black haired boy out of his mind.

Just before sunrise, 'The Dream' came again. But this time when Rynil looked down at the body at his feet, it was no longer featureless. He clearly saw black hair and blue eyes. His clothes were tattered but Rynil recognized the faded and worn tunic marked with the coat of arms of Lord Velarik, the uniform of a Squire. He was a few years older but it was without a doubt the body of the boy that had just won the Squire Games.

3 – Mikel

Mikel was devastated. He had barely gotten any sleep, even after he had cried himself out. As the guardsman had led him away, he told the boy that he could stay at the guards' quarters that night and tomorrow he would compete in the Squire's Tournament, but that it was unlikely any Knight would select him as a Squire.

The tournaments for the noble boys were early in the morning as the afternoon would be devoted to the Jousting Tournament for the Knights. There were about a dozen twelve year old noble boys that were of age to become Squires and were fighting in the first-year Squires' Tournament. This tournament would be fought without weapons, a test of brute strength. When Mikel arrived, he noticed one boy that briefly made him forget about his immediate troubles. He asked one of the guards who the boy was and found out his name was Rynil. Mikel could tell by the way the others acted towards him that he was one of the best fighters and most popular boys there. Occasionally he saw Rynil glance at him with an odd expression on his face that Mikel could not read.

The rules in the Squire's Tournament were different than the games. Here the fights would last until one boy conceded defeat or failing that, the fight could be stopped by the Lord's Champion. This was done because many of the soon to be Squires felt it was cowardly to admit defeat. Therefore, the Lord's Champion could end the fights before any of the boys were beaten completely senseless. The contests were also not random. The Lord's Champion ranked all of the boys and the worst would fight the best. This was to prevent the two best fighters from meeting up in the first round. The rank of this cohort of Squires would be determined based on the results of the tournament. After the first round, the Lord's Champion would determine the pairings to deal with any complications such as an odd number of boys. As a 'cowardly backstabbing peasant', which one of the noble boys called him as he spat at Mikel, he was ranked worst. That meant his first round match would be against Rynil.

Their fight would be the last match of the first round. As the fights started, the other boys started boosting about how they were all going to win their fights. Mikel was trying to secretly watch Rynil out of the corner of his eye when Rynil turned and approached him. He stopped as he got to the smaller boy and looked him over, seeming to size him up for their fight.

The noble boy raised his hand up and held it palm outward in greeting, "Can I ask you a question?"

Mikel hastily returned the gesture and tried to say "If you wish" but it come out as some sort of grunt.

Taking that as an indication he was free to ask his question, Rynil continued, "Why did you attack one of your opponents in the back and strike another that was defenseless?"

Mikel could hear the disapproval in the boy's voice. He felt dirtier than a pile of manure. He struggled to keep from crying and turned away, looking at the ground. "I don't know, I didn't mean to do it, uh, I didn't mean to do it like that. It just happened."

Rynil frowned, "To fight like that in an honorable contest is the way of a coward." He then turned and walked to the other side of the fighting circle.

Finally a Page called them into the circle, "Page Rynil, son of Sir Azryn Wolfe, Page to Sir Alred Refren shall fight Mikel, son of Marel, winner of the Squire Games." As Mikel entered the circle, his eyes on Rynil, his mind wandered, I guess when Rynil becomes a Knight he will be Sir Rynil Wolfe, what a great Knight he will make, he already looks like a Knight. Mikel shook his head to clear his thoughts and focus on the matter at hand, not getting killed by the boy he was just daydreaming about. Rynil was wearing only a pair of dark blue hose and leather boots, having removed his tunic when he entered the fighting circle. Mikel felt poor, weak and very small standing across from him in a pair of patched hose and worn sandals.

Mikel looked over towards the Lord's Champion, waiting for the signal for the fight to begin. He saw that the Lord's Champion was looking at him with contempt. After a moment the Knight signaled for the fight to begin. Rynil came right after Mikel. He threw a couple quick punches that Mikel either avoided or blocked with his arms. Then Rynil started making little fakes with one fist and striking Mikel with the other when he reacted to the fake. When Mikel brought his arms up to protect his head, Rynil would hit him in the stomach. The crowd cheered every time Rynil landed a solid blow.

Soon Mikel was having trouble focusing and was feeling dizzy. His jaw ached and he could not feel the rest of his face. Blood was running from his nose, his bottom lip was split, and his left eye was starting to swell shut. Next thing he knew, he was on the ground, not having even seen or felt the blow that dropped him. Rynil looked down at him with a strange expression on his face, sort of fearful, and almost pleaded, "We all know you are a coward, concede! No one will take you as a Squire."

Mikel got angry. "I'm not a coward!" He yelled. As Mikel got up, Rynil took a step back and took up a guard position. Mikel charged him. Rynil hit him in the side of the head while stepping out of the way. Mikel spun to the ground but got back up and charged again. Over and over Mikel went down, but he kept getting back up. Each time he was a bit slower getting back up. Finally his legs were having trouble supporting him, and he could not maintain his balance. He looked at Rynil and saw three of the blonde boy. The Rynils were not looking in his direction, they were turned towards the Lord's Champion. Mikel was able to bring the scene back into focus and he could make out that the Knight was laughing. Rynil said something and the Knight suddenly stopped laughing, his look of amusement replaced by a look of outrage. Rynil turned and looked at Mikel who had managed to stand but was still swaying. Rynil stepped towards him and Mikel tried to brace himself for another blow. Instead Rynil was saying something. Mikel concentrated on trying to make out what the other boy was saying but was having trouble hearing him because of a loud ringing sound that was coming from somewhere. Finally after Rynil repeated himself a couple of times Mikel was able to make out his words, "I wish to declare our match a draw, will you agree?"

Mikel nodded and barely managed a "Yes" before losing his battle to remain unconscious. Rynil quickly reached out and caught the falling boy.

Mikel woke up lying on a straw pad with a Priest of some god wiping his face, he could not focus enough to make out the man's holy symbol. When the priest saw that the boy was awake he said, "Rest young lad. Your presence is not required until the ceremonial choosing of the Squires before dinner." Mikel found it easier to fall asleep then think about his chances of getting selected as a Squire.

Shortly before the choosing was to take place, a guardsman woke the sleeping boy, gave him a set of clean hose and a tunic. They were slightly worn but in good shape. Then he led Mikel to where the noble boys were assembled, just outside the jousting grounds. Mikel could not open his left eye, his whole body hurt, his head was throbbing and he was still a little bit wobbly on his feet. Everything seemed sort of foggy like a dream.

After a few minutes, the boys to be chosen as Squires were led out into the center of the jousting yard. They lined up in front of a large pavilion. Lord Velarik rose and started speaking but Mikel was still having trouble hearing and missed what he said. Then a Knight approached the Lord, bowed, and said something to the Lord. The Lord nodded and the Knight rose. The Knight turned and spoke. One of the boys stepped forward. The boy approached the Lord's pavilion and bowed. They all talked. The Knight bowed again, then left with the boy. Another Knight then rose and did the same thing.

As this was repeated, Mikel began to be able to concentrate and hear what they were saying. The Knight would bow before the Lord and ask his permission to take one of the boys as his Squire. The Lord would agree and tell the Knight that he was now responsible for guiding the boy on his journey to Knighthood, then grant him permission to select a Squire. The Knight would then call out the name of his new Squire. The boy would approach and bow before the Lord and his Knight. The Lord would ask "Do you swear to loyally serve King Azris, Myself, and Sir (whatever the Knight's name was) with honor, with devotion, with courage, and with obedience?" The boy would always reply, "I swear it upon my life," and then bow again. The Lord would speak for all to hear, "By the authority of King Azris, I hereby grant you the title of Squire." Both the Knight and the new Squire would bow. The Knight would thank the Lord and depart with the Squire.

Mikel saw Rynil get chosen by a large muscular Knight whose brown hair and beard were in the midst of turning gray. Once chosen, the Knight led Rynil off to the side and appeared to be lecturing him. Soon all the other boys had been chosen and Mikel was standing alone on the field.

Lord Velarik looked down at the bruised and beaten peasant boy with pity. "If any other Knight wishes to select a Squire ask now or we shall retire to the Keep and begin our feast." As he raised his hand to declare the choosing over, a figure emerged from the darkness at the back of the Lord's pavilion. He was covered head to foot by a black robe with red trim. The robe of a War Mage. He lowered his hood and knelt beside the Lord. Mikel could tell he was almost six feet [1.80 m] tall, had an average build, gray hair that fell to his just above his shoulders and was matched in color by a short, trimmed beard. He spoke to the Lord and the assembled nobles, "Lord, I humbly ask your permission to select a Squire."

"Wizards do not take Squires!" Yelled one of the Knights seated to the side of the pavilion.

Lord Velarik glared at the Knight that had interrupted the ceremony. He then rose and looked around at the crowd making sure all of their attention was focused on him, "I will remind everyone that SIR Valen holds the rank of Knight, granted to him by King Azris himself, and as such, he has the right to request the service of a Squire." Lord Velarik let his admonishment linger in the air for a moment before turning back to the kneeling wizard, "Sir Valen, you have my leave to choose a Squire."

The old wizard rose and turned towards the lone boy standing on the jousting field. "Mikel, son of Marel, you will be my Squire. Come now and swear it before the Lord." Mikel's emotions were in turmoil; joy and elation at being chosen to be a Squire, fear and confusion about being chosen by a wizard. His feet seemed to act on their own accord and he was soon bowing before the Lord and the wizard. The oath of fealty was sworn and the Lord granted Mikel the title of Squire.

Sir Valen grabbed Mikel by the elbow and led him from the pavilion. They turned and walked behind it, the wizard stepped into the shadows and pulled the boy tight against his body. Mikel was about to scream when the wizard spoke a strange word and the fairgrounds blurred around Mikel. A second later they were standing in a small room. The suddenness of the relocation caused Mikel's stomach to rise and he barely managed to suppress the urge to vomit.

Sir Valen released his new Squire, who turned and tried to get a closer look at the wizard's face, but the hood of his robe was already back up and Mikel could see only darkness there.

"Your education begins now. Although you are officially my Squire and I am your Knight, you are also now my apprentice and will address me as 'Master'. This will be your sleeping quarters. Your first test is to learn what is required for you to leave it." He then turned and left the room. As he passed through the doorway, the door swung closed silently behind him without being touched by the wizard.

Mikel collapsed on the ground, overwhelmed by the day's events. After spending almost an hour curled up on the floor crying, he decided he had no choice but to accept the reality of what had happened and make the best of his new circumstances. He wiped off his puffy eyes and examined the room. First, he determined it was part of a tower since the outer and inner walls were curved. There was about eight feet [2½ m] between the outer wall and the inner wall. The side walls were about ten feet [3 m] apart. The ceiling was low, with only about seven feet [2 m] between the floor and ceiling. The lone door was in the middle of the inner wall. There were no windows. Mikel ran his hands over the stones on the walls. From the size of the stones, he guessed that this room was at or near the bottom of the tower. The floor was made of stone but the ceiling was wood.

The bed was a straw pad; Mikel examined it. The straw was fresh and the pad was much better than his old pad at the Temple, but not as nice as when he slept outside on a haystack. There was a large chest next to the sleeping pad. It was made out of wood, edged and banded with iron. It was about two feet [60 cm] wide, three feet [90 cm] long and two feet [60 cm] deep with no lock. Inside were three tunics and three pairs of black hose. The tunics were black with red trim, obviously styled to invoke the robes of his Master. At the bottom of the chest were two pairs of soft black leather boots. Mikel immediately tried everything on and was surprised to discover that everything fit perfectly. The boots even felt like they had already been broken in. Mikel marveled at it all since he was sure that these clothes alone must have cost more gold than he had seen in his entire life.

After dressing, he resumed his examination of the contents of his room. There was a desk made of a thick hard wood. On top of the desk was a bottle of ink, three quills, and a lantern that provided light for the room. Inside the lantern was a glowing rock that seemed as bright as the sun when you stared into it, yet it gave off no heat. There was a thin metal sheath that could cover the lantern and block the light. Sitting on the chair that was at the desk was Mikel's bag which he had left at the guard station that morning. Sir Valen must have retrieved it sometime during the ceremony. The only other thing in the room was a night basin.

Mikel was too tired and sore to care about trying to figure out how to open the door right then, which after a quick inspection he realized had no door handle or knob, or any visible means to open it. Instead he crawled onto his sleeping pad and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

4 – Rynil

When his name was announced, Rynil took off his tunic and stepped into the fighting circle. He watched Mikel as the peasant boy was announced. Rynil could not get the image of Mikel's limp body out of his head. As he watched the boy, an idea came to him, perhaps if he could show the boy that he was unworthy of being a Squire, it would prevent the vision of the dream from coming true.

When the Lord's Champion gave the signal to begin, Rynil went right after the weaker boy. He threw a few punches which Mikel blocked with his arms. Seeing that the untrained Mikel was simply reacting to his first move, he started making faints and then landing some solid blows. One of those blows to the head staggered Mikel and Rynil pressed his advantage, instinct taking over. He rained blows down on the smaller boy. When he sent Mikel sprawling to the ground he noticed how badly he had beaten the boy. Regret at what he had done and hope that it might convince the boy to not be a Squire mixed in his mind. Rynil shouted at him, "We all know you are a coward, concede! No one will take you as a Squire."

Mikel got angry and yelled back, "I'm not a coward!" The bloodied boy got to his feet and rushed at him. Rynil was caught off guard for a second by the boy's reaction and stepped back. But Mikel was too slow to land the blow and Rynil sent him back to the ground with a quick hook to the side of the head. Over and over again he knocked the boy down hoping he would stay down. Finally as he waited for Mikel to regain his feet, he turned to look at the Lord's Champion, to see if he was signaling for the fight to end since it was obvious that Mikel was in no condition to continue.

What he saw appalled him. Rather than stopping the fight the Lord's Champion was laughing, clearly enjoying seeing the peasant boy get beaten to within an inch of his life. The sight of the man, whose responsibility it was to make sure none of the boys let their pride or honor result injury, laughing at Mikel's misery infuriated Rynil. He forgot his place and screamed at the Knight, "If you won't end this I will!" He turned back towards Mikel and saw that the boy had regained his feet. The look on Mikel's face as he braced for another blow was like a dagger to Rynil's heart, his previous hope that Mikel would give up and not wish to be a Knight forgotten. "I wish to declare our match a draw, will you agree?" he asked. He could see from Mikel's reaction that the boy had not understood what he said, so he repeated himself until Mikel could comprehend what he was saying. The peasant boy croaked out a "yes" as he started to topple to the ground. Rynil reached out and caught him before he hit the ground once again.

One of the guardsmen rushed over and offered to take the unconscious boy from him. "No, I have him," said Rynil as he carried Mikel from the field. When he got to the healing tent, a young priest of The Warrior waved him inside and had him lay Mikel down on a straw pad. The priest said a few prayers over the boy's injured body and Rynil saw the flow of blood from Mikel's nose stop and his cuts mend.

"Do not worry young warrior, he will live and make a full recovery. He needs a few hours rest though. If you wish you can stay," said the priest as he started cleaning Mikel's wounds and checking his limbs for any additional injuries. Rynil looked down at the boy lying unconscious at his feet and the world around him disappeared into darkness. He could feel the glowing sword in his hand. He shook his head to clear the vision from his mind and fled from the tent.

The rest of the day passed in a blur as Rynil spent the time before the choosing ceremony back at the castle preparing Sir Alred's room for his departure and the arrival of a new Page. Fortunately the elderly Knight was sleeping so he did not force Rynil to tell him what was troubling him.

In the afternoon, at the choosing ceremony, Rynil was selected by Sir Luken, a tough strong Knight with a reputation as one of the best warriors at the castle. Sir Luken gave Rynil a brief lecture about how he expected Rynil to respect his superiors and that no future outbursts like the one he directed at the Lord's Champion would be tolerated. For a brief moment Rynil thought that perhaps his nightmare would come to an end as no Knight came forward to chose Mikel. When the wizard stepped forward and picked Mikel as his Squire, guilt swept over Rynil, he had beaten the boy so badly, and it had been for nothing.

That evening as the Pages, Squires, and Knights feasted In celebration, honoring the King and the Gods, Rynil grabbed a plate of food and retreated to the castle. He made his way to Sir Alred's room and spent his last evening with the man that had been his mentor for four years. While many of the other Pages would have considered him a burden, to Rynil it had always been an honor to serve a Knight who had given so much for the Kingdom. He ate quietly for a few minutes before he told Sir Alred of the day's events, leaving nothing out.

"Do not be so hard on yourself Squire Rynil, a dream like the one you have been having will do things to a man's mind, even to the best of men. If I could take this burden from you I would. You only did what you did because you were trying to protect the boy and yourself. I cannot say I would have done it any different," said Sir Alred, trying to provide what comfort he could.

The words of the elderly Knight helped Rynil but he could sense that there was more that the man was not telling him. Just as he was about to question the Knight about it, Sir Alred cut him off, "Now your service to me is over. You are a Squire, and not even my Squire at that. You must look to your new duties and your new Knight. Go find Sir Luken's old Squire, by now he should be in the Great Hall with the other new Knights, ask him if he can give you any advice in tending to Sir Luken." It was clearly a dismissal so Rynil leaned down and hugged Sir Alred, said goodbye, and left to do as the Knight suggested.

Rynil found Sir Alek in the great hall drinking and laughing with several other of the freshly Knighted young men, just as Sir Alred had predicted. Sir Alek had turned sixteen a couple months before King's Day but was only a bit taller than Rynil. He probably outweighed him by a good twenty pounds [10 kg] of muscle though. The young man, while not pretty, had handsome features that were marred only by a nose that had been broken too many times for even the priests to realign perfectly. He wore his brown hair in the shoulder length style common of the noble youths and had the beginnings of a beard sprouting from his chin and upper lip, but it had yet to spread to his cheeks. Rynil raised his hand in greeting, "Sir Alek, congratulations on your Knighthood, if you do not mind could I talk with you for a bit?"

"Squire Rynil! Congratulations to you as well," responded the slightly intoxicated Knight. He pulled Rynil into a hug and waved over one of the serving girls so that Rynil could get a mug of beer. "That was some fight today! I would avoid Sir Galreth for a few days if I were you. I do not think he took kindly to being shown up by a Squire. That took guts, but you did the right thing. I think even he will realize that soon, so it probably will not harm you much in the long run. What did you need to talk to me about?"

"Um, Sir Alred said that I should ask if you had any advice for serving Sir Luken. He chose me as his Squire, although after what happened I almost feared that no one would pick me."

The young Knight laughed, "No worries there; your father and Sir Luken met last month when Sir Luken was up north dealing with some bandits. Your father was at Lord Petris' estate which was a day's travel away, so Sir Luken stopped by after clearing out the bandits. Your father fears that your time caring for Sir Alred has made you soft, and your martial training might be lacking. He asked Sir Luken to take you as a Squire. In exchange your younger brother is going to marry Sir Luken's daughter when they are of age. Pretty standard arrangement, most choosings are decided well in advance. I think my father gave Sir Luken a score of cattle in order to chose me." Rynil was a bit shocked at all this, not having known that the choosings were predetermined.

"But you want to know about Sir Luken right? He is one of the strongest and toughest sons of bitches at the castle. Great fighter, take advantage of the weapons and fighting training he provides, there is none better. As a teacher he is great, as a person, well he is lacking. Mean bastard, especially if he has been drinking. Best to make yourself scarce when he has had too much."

Rynil frowned and could not hide his trepidation from Sir Alek. "What about the special duties?"

Alek smiled, put his arm around the boy and pulled him close so he could whisper in his ear, "You will be spared that for the most part, Sir Luken is usually busy getting his relief from the maids and other servant girls around the castle. But when he has had too much, most of them know to avoid him so if finds you when he is in that state he will want, release. Problem is, he usually has had too much to perform well and if he cannot finish, he will blame you. But in my time with him I learned how best to service him so that he can get off without me getting a beating, at least for that. If you would like I could show you?" Rynil blushed at the Knight's invitation but nodded in the affirmative.

Moments later the two were in Alek's small room. It was obvious that the young Knight had just moved in, for his bags were lying on the floor still packed and a suit of armor piled haphazardly in the corner. Alek saw Rynil's quizzical look at the state of the room, "I just chose a Page today, Telgan's his name I think, he will not start till tomorrow, figure I might as well have something for him to do. Now about your duties." Alek pushed Rynil towards the bed and sent the younger boy sprawling onto his back. "If Sir Luken is drunk and has not gotten with one of the maids, he will want you to suck him off, he will not ask for it, he will just grab your head and shove it into his crotch. He likes to be rough. That is what will get him hard, if you whimper a bit and look scared, so much the better. The problem is that being drunk interferes with his ability to climax. After a few minutes if he is hard you can get him there if you pull on his sack and squeeze it. Start slow and let it build." While describing how to service Sir Luken, Alek was standing at the side of the bed, disrobing as he looked down at Rynil. Once he was naked he crawled onto the bed next to Rynil and started stripping the docile blonde boy. "I imagine Sir Alred did not require much in the way of special duties, let me show you what you have missed."

Alek pulled Rynil's tunic off over his head, then grabbed the boy's head in his hands and kissed him, slipping his tongue into his mouth. Rynil could feel the Knight's hard cock pressing against his hip and reached down with his hand to stroke it as their tongues dueled. Alek broke off the kiss, "Sir Luken will not be interested in kissing, so go straight for his manhood."

Alek put the words into action moving down Rynil's body and pulling his hose down freeing the boy's hard cock. "You have a nice one Squire." Alek took Rynil into his mouth and started licking and running his tongue all around the head. He wrapped his hand around the base and started jacking the shaft as he suckled the tip.

After a few minutes of sucking the boy, he could feel Rynil's balls tightening and hear the boy's breath quickening. He pulled off, "Obviously you do not share Sir Luken's troubles. But here is the trick to getting him to this point." Alek took his other hand and wrapped it around Rynil's balls. He pulled gently on them and gave a soft squeeze, "like this only harder." The Knight then resumed sucking on the head of the boy's cock and running his tongue between the tip and the foreskin while gently squeezing and tugging on his balls. Soon Rynil groaned and shot a small amount of watery boy cum into Alek's eager mouth. As Rynil recovered from his orgasm, Alek climbed back up the bed to lie next to him. He grabbed Rynil's head and kissed the boy.

Alek broke off the kiss, smiling he said, "Okay, now your turn to practice." Rynil crawled down and took Alek's thick cock into his mouth. Rynil had played around with several of the other Pages before, so he was not unfamiliar with sucking a cock, although he had never sucked one as big before. Its girth stretched his mouth and his jaw was soon aching. The whole time Alek was giving him directions, "Use your hand more on the shaft", "get it wetter." Then after enjoying the boy's mouth for a bit he moved on to the important part. "Okay now grab my balls, pull and squeeze," Rynil did as instructed but did not squeeze hard, fearing to hurt the young Knight. But Alek was interested in more than just his own enjoyment and pushed the boy onward, "no harder, squeeze harder."

Rynil obeyed even though it was obvious that Alek was in some discomfort and was starting to lose his erection. "There, that is about as hard you need to do it." Alek instructed. His lesson over, Rynil resumed tenderly caressing and sucking on Alek's cock, softly kissing and stroking it as if to apologize. Soon it was back to full hardness and it did not take much longer for Alek to pump a half dozen thick shots of cum down Rynil's throat.

5 – Mikel

Mikel had given up trying to open the door for a while. He had no idea what time of day it was or if it was even the same day anymore. He thought it was probably the day after the Tournament, but was unsure if it was day or night. No light seeped into the room when the lantern is closed.

He sat at the desk and put quill to parchment, hoping that be writing down his thoughts it might help him find a solution.

Problem – Door. The door is hard wood banded with iron. There is no handle, lock or latch. The door opens out. If there are hinges or a bar they would be on the other side of the door. The fit between the door and the stone wall is tight. I've tried slipping a piece of paper between the door and its frame. It stops less than a fingers width into the crack. I can't see through the cracks even when I use the lantern. I've pushed and shoved at the door. It doesn't move at all. I've tried hitting the door with the chest. I just dented and marked up the chest. The chair or the desk would be of no use in forcing the door. I've searched everywhere in the room for some hidden catch, lever, or stone to press. I've inspected every square inch of floor, ceiling and walls. I've searched through the entire straw pad. I've checked the chest, desk, chair and even the night basin for any secret compartments or use in opening the door. I've tried talking to the door, asking it to open or move or do anything. I've tried guessing passwords or commands, even making up words and sounds. I even tried concentrating and trying to summon some magical force to open the door. There is no way of opening that door from inside this room. I finally tried to 'cast a spell'. I have no idea how to cast spells. I waved my arms, making patterns, mumbling bizarre sounds. Nothing happened.

I'm hungry and thirsty. I'm going to starve in this prison. I'll die here trapped in this room. My Master will find my dead body here. My Master

Mikel jumped up to his feet and step towards the door. He looked at it and spoke, "Master, may I please be allowed to leave my room?" He went to the door and pushed it. The door swung open easily. Standing outside was his Master. He was dressed in the same black robes with red trim. He also wore a pair of thin black gloves. His face was still hidden in darkness underneath the hood of the robes. Mikel guessed that it might be the work of magic because he was certain that from this angle the light from the lantern should have revealed his face. Behind him Mikel could see a circular hallway that led to a circular staircase spiraling up what must be the center column of the tower. He smiled as his guess that he was at the base of a tower was confirmed.

"Good, you have passed your first test. None of the doors in this tower will open for you until you have my permission. There is a reason for this, some of the magic contained in this tower can be dangerous, especially to those untrained in its use," said Sir Valen as he reached out and placed his hand on Mikel's head. Mikel felt a small jolt as a spark seemed to leap from his Master's hand as it touched his head. "You are now attuned to the tower, if your door will not open at your mental command it is because I require that you stay in your room," explained the wizard. "But except for those rare times you will have access to the entry level of the tower. Come with me, I will give you a tour of that area." With that he turned and headed for the stairs.

"This level is the basement and is underground. There are three other rooms down here but they are of no concern to you yet. Upstairs is the ground floor of the tower. It used to be part of the outer wall, but a hundred years ago the keep was expanded and a new larger wall was built further out," explained Sir Valen as they crested the stairs onto the ground floor.

"There are three rooms on this level, an entry way, the main room which will be both your study and your dining area, and a bathing room," said the wizard as he showed his young apprentice around his new home. The main room had a table and two chairs. In the middle of the table were a loaf of bread, a bowl of fruit, a pitcher of apple juice, and one glass. He pointed to the table and told the boy to eat. Mikel ate as quickly as possible while trying not to make a fool of myself. As he ate Sir Valen explained some more of the rules, "you are to stay on these two levels and never open the door that leads outside or the door at the top of the stairs leading up to the rest of the tower. Eventually if you have excelled in your education you will gain more access to other areas of the tower. Place the dirty dishes and any uneaten food on the bottom self of the cabinet over there," he said gesturing at a ornately carved wooden cabinet against the wall. The top shelf shall always be stocked with fresh food. There are no windows on this level of the tower so light is provided by magical light stones inside recessed enclosures in the walls. If you wish less light, they have shutters that can be closed to block out some or all of the light. That bookcase over there will contain books you are required to read. New books will appear on the top shelf from time to time. I suggest you not let them pile up. Once you have begun reading a book place it one of the other shelves. One of your tasks will be to fill all the lower shelves of the bookcase with books you have read. Any other supplies you need for your education will be provided when you need them. Come, I will show you the bathing area."

Sir Valen led the way through a door that opened without his touch as he approached. Inside was a large bathing tub. "Focus your thoughts on the tub and you will be able to fill or empty it as well as adjust its temperature with your mind. Over on the ledge underneath that wooden board is a waste hole. You are to empty your night basin into it each morning. You may rinse your basin with water from that pitcher next to it. It will always be full of water. You are to also use the waste hole to relieve yourself during the day when needed. You may clean yourself as needed afterward with the water from the pitcher and a towel from that shelf over there. Used towels go in the hamper over there. You need not worry about running out of towels or emptying the hamper. A warning, do not put any part of your body into the waste hole, or for that matter put anything you ever wish to see again inside the hole," said Sir Valen as he left the bathing room and took a seat back at the dining table.

Mikel followed and sat back down. He stared at the remains of his meal, overwhelmed by everything he had just been shown. Sir Valen could sense the boys troubled thought. "Squire Mikel, you must always be honest with me and ask if you have any questions. What is wrong?"

Mikel fought against the emotions that were racing through him and forced himself to speak, "I don't deserve to be a Squire, they were right, I'm a coward."

"I am now the one in charge of determining if you deserve to be a Squire, that judgment is no longer yours to make. But what have you done that you believe is cowardly? Are you referring to your duels in the Games?" Mikel nodded, unable to look towards his Master.

"Well, before the fight, had you ever sworn an oath to behave with honor? Did anyone explain to you that your duels were to be an honorable fight? Were you told that the actions you took were against the rules or even dishonorable? Do not confuse honor with bravery. Only the thick headed or young believe they are the same. You fought within the rules that were explained to you and you fought to win. Those are not cowardly acts. You showed only honor and bravery in your fight with the noble boy. If that is all there is then you should dismiss any thoughts of being a coward."

Mikel started sobbing, "There's more." He recited the full story of the night his family was killed and Wilrik was taken by the orcs while he hid in the hay.

Sir Valen pulled back his hood and reached across the table, taking Mikel's hand, "When you left the Temple to come to the games in the hope of become a Knight, I am sure many told you that you would fail but you came anyway, why?"

Mikel thought for a moment as the question drew him away for a moment from the pain he was feeling, "Because I knew it was my best chance to become a Knight and the have the means to go after the orcs."

"When you fought the noble boy, you must have known there was no chance you were going to beat him, yet you kept getting back up, why?" asked the wizard.

"Because I just knew I couldn't give up. I wanted to prove to him I wasn't a coward," explained Mikel.

Sir Valen thought for a moment then gave the boy a smile, "So, when you do not know what to do, when you do not know the rules or what is expected of you, when you cannot think of a way to defeat two armed and armored orcs, you fail to act what you later think is proper, yet when you know what you want to do, and how to do it, you act bravely. It seems to me that your problem is not that you are a coward but instead that you are inexperienced and untrained in how to use your true power. Experience can be gained and I can teach you how to harness the power of magic so you will be able to find the orcs that took your friend and be strong enough to face them. But the path of magic is not easy, it is not without pain, suffering, and sacrifice. There are times when it will seem to be without honor, but it is not the path of a coward, it is a path for the brave and it is your path. Finish your meal and get some sleep, it is the middle of the night and your journey along that path begins in earnest tomorrow morning."

Sir Valen rose and went up the stairs in the entry way to the second floor. After Mikel heard the door close, he finished his meal as he thought about what Sir Valen had said. Before he retired to his sleeping quarters for the night, he took some of his food scraps and threw them in the waste hole to see what would happen. The waste hole was about a foot deep and as soon as the food hit the bottom there was a brief flash and it was gone.

6 – Rynil

Rynil woke shortly after dawn with Sir Alek spooned against his back. Doing his best not to wake the Knight, he slid quietly out of bed and started collecting his clothes from where they had been discarded. As he finished dressing and was heading for the door, Alek called from the bed, "Squire Rynil, I do not plan on choosing my own Squire until the summer after next, when Page Karl comes of age, so if you ever need any more 'instruction' or want to practice what you have learned, I am at your disposal. Also if you can ever help Page Karl get some free time to visit me, I would really appreciate it." Rynil thanked Sir Alek, gave a small bow and headed to find Sir Luken's suite.

Sir Luken's suite was in the western wing of the additions to the original keep. One of the castle servants was able to give Rynil directions. He soon found the door and quietly entered. As one of the more senior ranking Knights, Sir Luken had one of the larger living quarters. It consisted of three rooms, a parlor and two bedrooms off the parlor, one for Sir Luken and another for his charges. Rynil entered the parlor and got his bearings. There was a small table with two chairs in one corner, a fireplace opposite the door to the hall, a small couch and a large padded chair facing the fire, and a door on each of the other two walls. He could hear snoring coming from a room on the right and assumed that must be Sir Luken, so he went to the room on the left. Inside was a medium sized bed, big for one person but a little small for two, several chests, a small armoire, and a small bedside table with a pitcher and a night basin on it. Sitting on the floor by one of the chests was Karl, Sir Luken's Page. He had Rynil's bags next to him and he was unpacking them and transferring their contents into one of the chests.

Karl was ten years old and been Sir Lucen's Page for the past two years. He noticed Rynil in the doorway after a moment and leapt to his feet to stand at attention. "Greetings Squire Rynil. Sir Alred had your bags sent over. I have unpacked most of your things and put them in your chest. I also had a couple new pairs of hose sent up for you, as well as your new Squire's tunics," said the Page, searching Rynil's face for any sign of approval or disapproval.

Rynil kept his face neutral so as to keep the boy in suspense. He walked in and made a show of inspecting the room, and then looked over the Page he would be working with for the next couple of years. He was an inch [2½ cm] or so shorter than average for his age and still had a small layer of baby fat. His features were typical for a noble boy from the Telisan region, light brown hair and brown eyes. He was already dressed in his Page's uniform, light blue hose, a dark green tunic embroidered with Sir Luken's coat of arms, and soft leather boots. His hair was cut short and he appeared to have made some effort this morning to wet it down and neaten it up. "Thank you Page Karl. You have done well. When does Sir Luken usually wake?"

"He would usually be waking up about now but he did not get in till late. Since he did not wake when the wench left a few minutes ago, I think he will sleep for another hour or two," replied Karl.

"Perfect, I am going to go visit the baths. Finish unpacking my things then bring one of my squire outfits down to the baths, and fetch back these clothes," said Rynil.

After his bath, Rynil returned to the room and the two boys readied the suite for Sir Luken. While they waited for him to wake up, Karl filled Rynil in on how things generally operated and what tasks Rynil would be expected to do and the ones that would be taken care of by him. Sir Luken awoke about a half hour later. Sir Luken then gave them their orders for the day and what tasks that they were to do in addition to their regular training and work duties. As he dismissed them he told Rynil to stay behind for a moment.

Once Karl had left Sir Luken walked over and stood in front of Rynil, scowling at him. Sir Luken towered over his twelve year old squire. Sir Luken was 6'2" [1.88 m], barrel-chested with thick muscular arms and legs. He had dark brown hair and a full beard that was streaked with gray. "Your little stunt at the tournament yesterday has not wise. Sir Galreth spoke with me last night and he was not pleased with you questioning his authority like that. I suggest you not do anything else to anger him and go out of your way to try to make amends for your insolence."

"Sir, there was no reason to continue beating on the peasant boy. I could not keep hurting him for Sir Galreth's and the crowd's amusement. If he was not going to fulfill his duty as Lord's Champion to stop the fight, I had to take the honorable course of action and offer a draw," said Rynil, defending his actions during the prior day's events.

"It is not your place to question your superiors!" shouted Sir Luken at his squire. "Sir Alred in his weakened state has obviously failed to instill the proper respect for authority in you. You will obey and not question a Knight; do you understand me, boy?"

"Sir, yes Sir!" replied Rynil doing his best to not let his anger rise to match Sir Luken's.

"That is better, now get yourself down to the yard for your training," commanded Sir Luken.

The first few days as a Squire were tough on Rynil, as well as the other new squires. The Knights responsible for their training worked them extra hard, to set the tone of what was expected of them. No longer were they considered little boys like they had been when they were Pages. They had taken their next step towards being Knights and there was no doubt about the physical demands that would be required of them. Lots of drills in heavy armor, riding drills, weapons practice, and when they were not in martial training they were required to do physical labor around the castle.

The tasks they were assigned depended on their rank. Their rank was determined by how many years they had been a squire, then by where they had finished at the last tournament compared to their age mates. Sir Galreth, the Lord's Champion, had decided that Rynil would be ranked second to lowest amongst his class, with the lowest ranked Squire being Mikel. Traditionally the two lowest ranked squires had the task of cleaning the latrines throughout the keep. When Rynil reported to the Chamberlain's office to be assigned his castle duty, the Chamberlain had informed him that he would be cleaning the latrines by himself since no one had yet seen Sir Valen to inform him that Squire Mikel needed to report to the Chamberlain's office for his work assignment. So Rynil would have to do the work of two.

Fortunately after his initial dressing down of Rynil, Sir Luken had largely left him alone. He would review Rynil's weapon training with him in the evening, adding anything he felt necessary, but other than that had little need for his Squire or Page. This left Rynil spending most of his evening hours in his room with Karl. Both the pages and the squires were given books on various subjects, primarily histories of the Kingdom of Selarn, the surrounding kingdoms, military strategy, and geography, to study. From the very first night, Rynil discovered that Karl was very affectionate and preferred to fall asleep with Rynil's arms wrapped around him spooning. Rynil chuckled quietly to himself when he realized it was exactly the position he had awoken in when he had spent the night with Sir Alek, who had until recently shared this very same bed with Karl for two years.

The first few nights Rynil fell asleep almost instantly upon getting into bed and cuddling up against Karl. The increased physical effort required of Rynil as a Squire compared to his duties caring for Sir Alred left Rynil exhausted. But after a few days of getting used to his new schedule, his body started to become accustom to the routine. On the fourth night, as he was lying next to Karl, he did not immediately fall asleep, in fact the arm that was underneath the smaller boy was starting to hurt, and he wondered how he could have possibly fallen asleep in this position previously. As he was trying to determine how he should extricate his arm from its predicament, he felt Karl start to wiggle his butt up against him. Within a couple of seconds Rynil's cock hardened, pressing up against Karl's gyrating ass.

Feeling Rynil finally harden from his not so subtle hint, Karl wasted no time in reaching down between his legs and pulling Rynil's now hard cock through his legs, trapping it between his thighs. Instinct took over and Rynil began thrusting his uncut cock between the Page's smooth legs, rubbing against the base of the boy's groin. Wanting to make everything just right, Karl next reached back and grabbed Rynil's hand and placed it on his hard boy cock. Rynil explored the boy's hairless cock and balls with his hand for a moment before gripping the small cock between two fingers and his thumb. Then he proceeded to jack the now moaning boy in time with his own thrusts.

After a few minutes of this, Rynil's breath quickened and his balls tightened as he was getting close to coming. Karl recognized the signs of the older boy's approaching orgasm; he quickly rolled over and crawled under the thin summer blanket so he could take Rynil into his mouth. He wrapped his lips around the head of older boys cock and ran the fingers of his small hand through the sparse dusting of blonde pubic hear at its base. Rynil, his eyes tightly shut, thrust quickly in and out of Karl's mouth. As he reached orgasm and shot into the Page's mouth, the imagine in his mind was of Mikel with his lips wrapped around him.

Karl sucked down the small amount of cum and gently cleaned the boy's cock in his mouth. As the older boy recovered from his orgasm, Karl crawled back up and snuggled against him. "Did you like that?' he asked naively.

Rynil had to struggle from laughing so loud that he woke the castle at the boy's question. "Yes, I liked that a lot. Here let me show you my appreciation." With that he rolled Karl over on to his back and proceeded to lick, suck and jack the boy's cock until Karl thrashed violently on the bed in an intense dry orgasm. Afterward the two embraced and kissed.

"Rynil, I am glad you are Sir Luken's new Squire, I like you," declared Karl as the two boys resumed their original position, finally ready to go to sleep.

7 – Mikel

Mikel was awoken by a gentle tugging on his arm. He opened his eyes and saw he was alone in his small room. The shutter on the lantern had been opened but the door to the room was closed. Figuring that Sir Valen had somehow used magic to wake him, Mikel quickly dressed in one of his new tunics and a pair of hose. He then looked over at his door and pictured it opening in his mind. Instantly the door responded and swung open.

A few minutes later while Mikel was seated at the table eating a breakfast of fruit and buttered bread while reading a short book titled, Magic - A Layman's Summary. It was one of four books that had been waiting for him on the top shelf of the bookcase. There had also been a note from Sir Valen on the table:

Mikel
I will be away for several days. Do not neglect your reading for I will question you on the information and lessons to be gleaned from the books when I return. - V

So for the next five days the young apprentice's life was very boring. He would be awoken in the morning by the mysterious tugging on his arm. At least he assumed it was morning since there was no way to keep track of time at first. It was much later that day while he was soaking in the bathtub and reading one of his books that he heard the sounds of a fire burning in the study's fireplace. He got up and investigated. Naked and dripping he padded into the study. An obviously magical fire, since there was no fuel present, was burning in the fireplace. It sounded natural and as he approached he could feel heat radiating from it. As he examined the fireplace he noticed that in the center of the mantle was a small engraving of the setting sun. He stood and watched it, the engraving slowly changed as the sun fully set and disappeared from the engraving, leaving only the engraved horizon. The next day he kept track of the engraving and believed he was able to decipher its meaning. In the morning it would show the sun starting to rise. Over the course of the day the sun would rise until it completely cleared the horizon, then it would begin to descend. So at least Mikel was be able to keep track of the passing day, from sunrise, noon, to sunset.

There was not much else to do in the small portion of the tower that Mikel could access. There were times he felt he was more a prisoner than an apprentice. Other than reading the books that appeared, usually one or two new ones each morning, the only other activity Mikel had to pass the time was pleasuring himself. He would take occasional breaks from studying and lie in the warm water of the tub, soap up his cock and give himself some relief from the boredom. While he jacked himself, he focused on the image of the shirtless Rynil, his golden hair, his green eyes, his strong arms, the smooth pale chest, his muscular thighs, and the bulge in his blue tights. Maybe one day I'll get to see him without the tights, thought Mikel as he would cum, shooting his thin boy cum onto his stomach and chest.

When Sir Valen returned, the daily routine changed a bit. Sir Valen would eat dinner with Mikel and spend a couple hours discussing the reading. After getting to read about the different types of magic and how it worked, it was time for Mikel's first lesson, how to detect magic. "Squire, when you give mental commands to the various magical objects in the tower, such as your door and the bathtub, does it feel different then when you are just thinking about other things?"

Mikel considered the question, "Yes, I feel like I'm pushing a little bit with my mind."

"Good," said the wizard. He then produced a small prism and handed it to his apprentice, "Now I want you to do the same thing with this prism, focus your thoughts on trying to see magic while focusing through the prism with your eyes."

Mikel took the prism and tried to do as instructed. The two sat in silence for several minutes as Mikel focused on the prism. Just as he was starting to get discouraged at trying to focus his eyes on some nebulous space inside the prism he saw a flash of color inside it but then just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

"Good, you had it there for a second. That is better than I did on my first attempt. Rest a minute then try again," instructed the wizard as he reached over patted his apprentice on the arm.

Mikel cleared his thoughts and took a couple slow deep breaths and tried again. It took him just a couple seconds to find the same focus point again but he was not able to hold it for any length of time. Back and forth he went until finally he was able to see the colors and hold it. Once he was able to hold his focus on that spot for more then a second, the colors seemed to pulse then quickly spread out across the room around him.

"Now, keep pushing with your mind at the prism and look around the room," instructed Sir Valen. Mikel did as commanded. He could see that most of the room and objects were a dull gray but others, like the bookcase, the cupboard, and the fireplace were brightly colored with yellow and green swirls. The outer wall of the tower pulsed with a dark blue. He looked over at his Master and saw nothing. His Master had disappeared. The surprise of his Master disappearing caused Mikel's thoughts to lose focus on the prism and the colors vanished and the room returned to its original appearance. Seated next to him was his Master, chuckling.

"Excellent! You should be able to get the hang of it now. Keep the prism and practice detecting the magic around you. Since you are attuned to the tower, the magic here will recognize you and it will be safe for you to investigate. With practice you will be able to feel the magic rather than just see it. Study the magic, get to know the various spells that are in place and you will be able to figure out what they do and how they work."

"Master, why'd you disappear when I used the prism?" asked Mikel.

An amused laugh emerged from within the darkness of Sir Valen's hood. "These robes are enchanted with spells that make me undetectable to most senses, both mundane and magical. Hence why you cannot see my face. Besides hiding my face when the hood is up, I do not omit any odor and the sounds of my movement are muffled. To those relying on magical senses I am completely invisible, unless their magic is stronger than that of the magic in the robes."

"But why do you need to hide yourself, even here inside your tower? Aren't the defenses of the tower strong enough to protect you?" asked Mikel.

"Most likely, but there are certainly wizards and magical creatures out there that can overpower the defenses of the Tower. And what protection will the defenses provide you when you are not here? Until you are strong enough to defend your own mind from magical intrusion, any of my secrets that you learn would be vulnerable. So the less of them you know the safer you will be. But do not worry; I shall seek to make sure you are protected until you have learned enough to defend yourself. Now for the time being practice seeing the magic around you, using the prism as needed. Someday soon you will find you will be able to focus and see the magic around you without the aid of the prism. A word of warning, you will find using your mind in this way will quickly exhaust you, so make sure you get your sleep." With his final instruction of the night given, Sir Valen took his leave and headed up the stairs.

After his teacher had left, Mikel picked up the prism and he begun to explore his quarters with his new sight. He went into the bathing room. He commanded the tub to fill while using the prism to focus his sight and watch the magic in operation. Next he studied the waste hole and the linen racks. He practiced trying to feel the magic as well see it. Downstairs he noticed that there was little magic in his room, just the lights, the walls, and the door. He could sense the magic in the door was responsible for its opening and closing upon mental command, the magic in the walls radiated strength and protection, it gave him a sense of security. His Master had been correct, using his mind in this new way was exhausting. It wasn't long before he fell asleep, prism still in hand.

The next morning he felt the familiar tug on his arm waking him. Reacting quickly he grabbed the prism and looked for magic. A couple feet away, floating towards the door was a roughly humanoid shaped outline, glowing light blue. As he concentrated on the shape it stopped its movement. Mikel sat up; he pushed with his mind, trying to command the shape to move over to the desk. It responded to his thoughts and obeyed. Mikel decided to experiment a little. He set the prism down. He could no longer see the shape but he guessed it was still there. So he tried to remember what it felt like and commanded it to bring him the quill from the desk. Almost instantly he saw the quill rise and float across the room towards him. He reached out and grabbed the quill and could sense the magical force release it. Even though he was just directing magic his Master had created, Mikel was in awe at being able to manipulate it so easily.

Later that day, as he lay in the bath tub taking one of his breaks from his studies, he summoned the magical servant and had it bring him the prism. He wanted to make sure he could see the servant for what he was about to try. So with the prism in the one hand and his other hand rubbing his cock he focused until he could see the magical outline of the servant. He had it reach out an arm and take over the stroking of his hard dick. It was a little awkward at first but he soon figured out how to adjust the pressure and the pace. Mikel enjoyed the new sensation of getting jerked off without using his own hand. As he lay there he imagined Rynil was kneeling next to the tub and reaching in to rub his cock. To help picture the fantasy he closed his eyes. Rather than darkness he saw the colors of magic. He felt the magic and could sense there was magic in his mind that linked him to the tower. There was something else there and when he reached towards it, it quickly vanished but it gave Mikel the feeling of an eye, watching him.

The mood ruined, Mikel quickly rinsed off and had the servant fetch him a towel from the linen rack. He quickly dried off, dressed and went into the study. He was not surprised to find his Master seated at the table waiting for him, he knew it must have been his Master that was watching him inside his mind.

"I am impressed Squire. You have done well to detect and learn how to use Selaris so, quickly," said the wizard with a touch of levity in his voice.

Mikel blushed, "Selaris?"

"The magical force that serves the tower, I find it easier for reference if I give it a name," replied Sir Valen.

Mikel mustered up his courage to discuss what had just happened. "Um Master, about what was happening in the tub, I sensed some magic inside me. Some of it I could tell is what ties me to the magic in the tower. It is through that link that I can make use of the other magic in the tower."

The wizard interrupted, "Very perceptive. Yes, it does that as well as lets the defenses of the tower know you belong. It keeps you safe while you are here."

The young apprentice nodded, "I could feel that, it gave me a sense of safety, similar to what I feel from the walls. But there was another magic there, I could feel it, watching me. It was you Master, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was. You are showing that I was wise to select you as my Squire. You have a natural affinity for magic," answered the wizard.

"Thank you Master," said the Mikel, torn between pride at earning praise from his Master and embarrassment at being caught masturbating.

"Mikel, do not be ashamed at what you were doing. Selaris was upstairs helping me when you summoned it. I was surprised that you were already strong enough to summon it from another part of the tower, so I looked to see what you were doing. I apologize for lingering. You were having a private moment as all boys are want to do. It is perfectly natural, well except for using a magical servant to do it, which does not often happen naturally," said Sir Valen with a chuckle to diffuse the tension. "In the future I will give you a bit more privacy. I suspect at the rate you are learning to use magic that it will not be long before you will be able to recognize immediately whenever I check in on you."

Mikel looked into his Master's hood, trying to give him what he hoped was a seductive look, "I don't mind Master. I am your Squire and I am here to serve you and do whatever you command. You can do whatever you wish."

Sir Valen reached out and ran his gloved hand through Mikel's messy black hair, "yes, yes I could, if I were a regular Knight and you were a regular Squire. Sometimes I wish that was the case, you are a beautiful boy Mikel and I am sure I would enjoy you very much. Perhaps too much, and that is the problem. With magic, when two people share a very close bond it can present an opening through their defenses that enemies can exploit. So if I were to request sexual services from you I would likely find myself developing too strong an attachment to you. I am already quite fond of you as it is."

"Thank you Master," replied Mikel with mixed emotions, happy for the compliment yet saddened at the rejection.

"There is one other matter we have to discuss. I was reminded when I got back the other day that as a Squire you have to perform some work duties in the castle. I believe you are required to serve for a half a day once every four days. I spoke with Lord Velarik and requested that you be exempted from this duty but he denied my request. So you will have to report to the Chamberlain's office tomorrow morning. There will be a Page waiting for you outside the door tomorrow morning who will show you the way. The front door will now obey our commands so that you may enter and exit the tower."

Mikel gave him a puzzled look, "Master, if I may ask, why'd you request I be exempt from work duties?"

"To be honest with you Mikel, I did so because I fear for your safety. Most people, including Knights, fear arcane magic, they do not understand it. They think it dishonorable at best and evil at worst. Some even think it the result of pacts with demons. Many of the Squires and Pages have learned that same attitude from their Knights. This irrational fear combined with the circumstances of your choosing lead me to believe that one or more of the Squires will seek to harm you while you are outside the tower."

"Master, does Lord Velarik share this fear of magic?" asked Mikel.

"Fortunately he does not. And he has reminded me that since you will officially be on duty while outside the tower that any attack on you would be considered a direct attack on his authority. When the Squires are performing their duty to the castle they are performing their personal service to him. If anyone gives you any trouble, simply remind them that you are currently performing your service to Lord Velarik. If they wish to challenge you to a duel, the Lord will act as your Champion, as he would do for any Knight or Squire that was challenged carrying out his orders."

"Master, but what if they do not challenge me to a duel but instead just attack me?" asked Mikel, a little confused by the honor code of Knights.

"If they just attack you then they are committing a crime against the Lord, and the punishment for that is death. The Lord made a very convincing case as to why he was denying my request. He even seemed a bit insulted that I would ever doubt that you would not be safe in his castle.

"Now I have one additional rule for you when you are outside the Tower. You are not to discuss anything about the Tower or your training with anyone when you are outside the protections of the Tower. You must give me your word that you will not discuss anything about what happens inside the Tower or the magic you have seen here while you are outside," commanded Sir Valen.

"Yes, Master, I swear it," said Mikel.

"Good, now you have some reading and other things to finish before bed," said the wizard as he got up and headed back upstairs.

The next morning, when Mikel was woken by Selaris, he found there were a hairbrush and a mirror on his small desk. Mikel took the hint and worked two weeks of tangles and knots out of his hair, making himself look presentable. After all, his appearance and behavior would reflect on Sir Valen, so he wanted to make sure he looked his best. He made sure his black tunic and hose were free of lint or other blemishes and then made his way upstairs to the front door. With some trepidation, he opened the door to the tower and exited it for the first time in ten days.

Standing in the hallway outside the door was a young boy, probably around eight years old, dressed in a Page's uniform, dark green tunic and light blue hose. Mikel waited for a moment expecting some response from the boy. After a moment he noticed that while the boy was standing there, his eyes were closed. The Page was asleep on his feet. "Excuse me," said Mikel, hoping to get the Page's attention. The boy jumped backward, startled out of his standing slumber.

The boy recovered quickly and gave a slight bow, "Page Kenton at your service."

"I'm M…"

"Squire Mikel, the wizard's apprentice!" finished Page Kenton, his initial shock at being woken up wearing off. "I am going to win a silver now," he boasted.

"Huh?" replied Mikel a little confused.

"Oh, sorry for interrupting, it is just that I have a bet with Page Telgan. He bet me a silver piece that the wizard had killed you and ground your bones up to use in a spell. I bet you were still alive, and now I will have proof I was right," explained Kenton.

"Well, I may not be alive much longer if I don't find the Chamberlain's Office. I am supposed to report there for a work assignment. And his name is Sir Valen, not 'the wizard'," said Mikel.

"Follow me, I will lead you there," said Page Kenton as he headed off down the hall, talking non-stop as they made their way through the keep. "I am on duty right now, I am assigned to be available if the wizard, sorry, Sir Valen, needs a Page, to send a message or fetch something, except he never does. I do not know why they make one of us stand there all day. Usually a big waste of time, except today, of course. It is the worst duty a Page can get, cause it is soooo boring, no one else ever comes over here. You spend hours just standing in the hallway. I am currently stuck doing it because the First Page is mad at me cause someone told him I made a joke about his horseback riding. I think it was Page Telgan that told him cause he was on wizard watch, err, assigned to stand outside Sir Valen's tower, before me."

"What was the joke? asked Mikel.

"Oh, I will not repeat it, I do not want First Page Rolin finding out I told it again or I will never get reassigned! What is it like inside the tower? Is there a lot of magic in there? What do you do?" inquired the curious Page.

"Well if I tell you any information, my Master will turn you in to a toad," replied Mikel.

Page Kenton stopped in front of a door. "Oh, then you better not tell me, I do not think I would like being a toad," said Kenton frowning. "Here you go, the Chamberlain's Office. I will be getting back to my post. If you need help finding your way back to the wizard's, err, Sir Valen's Tower, there should be a Page down at the end of the hallway there that can guide you," said the young Page pointing. He then gave a quick wave and headed back the way they had come.

Mikel knocked on the door of the Chamberlain's Office and immediately an impatient voice called out from inside, "Enter."

8 – Rynil

Rynil stood patiently, watching as the Chamberlain busied himself reviewing numbers in a ledger. The Squire had been summoned to the Chamberlain's Office as he was headed to begin his morning of service cleaning the several latrines strategically strewn about the keep and castle grounds. Upon arriving, the Chamberlain, Sir Balren, had motioned for Rynil to wait. So wait he did, standing silently until the Chamberlain should indicated otherwise. As the minutes passed Rynil started trying to think how he could cut corners and try to make up for all the time he was wasting just standing there waiting. It was already tough enough to complete the task in the allotted time since he was doing the work of two people.

Eventually the monotony of waiting was interrupted by a knock on the door. Without even looking up, the Chamberlain barked out, "Enter." The door opened and Squire Mikel hesitantly entered the office. "It is about time," said Sir Balren. "You have missed two days of service already, I was starting to think you were going to miss a third. Squire Rynil will instruct you on your current duties. In the future you will meet him at the Quartermaster's on your service mornings. You will be making up for your two missed days eventually as soon as I find a suitable task for you. Now you two are dismissed."

Rynil gave a slight bow in acknowledgment of the orders and headed for the door. He saw Squire Mikel imitate the gesture and then fall into place behind him as he exited the Chamberlain's Office. Rynil led the way to the Quartermaster's. As they made their way through the keep, Rynil briefly explained their task, "Not much to the job. Most of the hard work is carrying water from the moat to the latrines in the old keep. Once that is done it is a quick splash, scrub the outside and the lip of the waste hole, use the remaining water to rinse it all off, then give it a wipe with some towels to get most of the water up. It stinks of course but you do sort of get used to it after awhile."

"Can't be any worse than back on the farm," replied Mikel.

"Oh right, I am sure you are used to worse," said Rynil, feeling foolish. The two Squires went about getting their buckets, brushes, and towels from the Quartermaster's storage and then headed out to get water from the moat. They carried the water back into the keep and begun giving the first latrine a cleaning. The silence was awkward as Mikel struggled to maintain any conversation beyond the basics required of their work.

Eventually Rynil mustered up the courage to say what had been on his mind since Mikel entered the Chamberlain's Office. As they scrubbed away Rynil spoke without looking over at the boy next to him, "Squire Mikel, about what happened at the Squire's Tournament, I am sorry I hurt you."

Mikel stopped and looked over at Rynil who continued to work, avoiding eye contact. "Why? You didn't do anything wrong. You're the better fighter, you would've won. Why'd you offer me a draw? You had the fight won."

"Because I, I just could not keep hitting you. It was not right. The Lord's Champion should have stopped the fight but I think he was enjoying seeing me beat you up. And it was more than just the fight. I was wrong to call you a coward. I was the one that was being a coward," said Rynil.

"Huh? How were you being a coward?" asked Mikel confused.

"I do not know, just, I am sorry about it all," lied Rynil, not wanting to explain to Mikel about the dream and how he had been trying to prevent Mikel from becoming a Squire. Now he was trying to not like the peasant boy turned Squire because he knew in his dream he had strong feelings for him and perhaps if he never got to like him then that would prevent the dream from coming true.

"Well, uh, I forgive you. After all I think it worked out okay. I like being Sir Valen's Squire. Magic isn't as bad as all the stories say," said Mikel.

Rynil gave Mikel a dubious look, "Thanks." Rynil tried to go back to working in silence but Mikel had other plans. Mikel told the story of growing up in a peasant farming family that worked the Lord's land under the protection of a local Knight. He gave the edited version of his family being killed, not mentioning anything about the orcs or his friend being taken away. Then he talked about spending the last couple of years at the Temple of the Harvest and finally about deciding to travel to Telisan to join the Squire Games in the hopes of becoming a Knight to try to avenge his family. After hearing Mikel's history, Rynil was feeling even guiltier for calling him a coward.

Having finished the first set of latrines, the boys returned to the moat and refilled their buckets. As they carried the buckets full of water up a flight of stairs towards the second set of latrines they heard the sound of someone rushing down the stairs. They both moved to the side to clear the center of the stairwell just as Squire Mekrin came running down. At the last second he seemed to veer towards Mikel and his shoulder struck him square in the chest. The force of the impact knocked Mikel back into the wall, his head smacked hard against it, and he fell to the ground while the bucket full of water crashed down the stairs.

Rynil dropped his bucket and jumped between Mekrin and Mikel, who was lying on the stairs dazed. "Leave him alone!" shouted Rynil as he gave Mekrin a shove.

"Heheheh, do not get all upset," said Mekrin laughing. "Why do you care what happens to the little peasant snot anyway?"

"Just leave him alone Mekrin. He is on duty so I could report you," threatened Rynil.

"It was an accident, I did not see him until too late," said Mekrin smirking.

"Horseshit! You hit him on purpose," said Rynil.

"I'm okay Rynil, don't worry about," said Mikel from floor as he regained his senses.

"Yeah, listen to the peasant Squire, you should be used to that after all," said Mekrin with a smirk as he pushed past Rynil and resumed his trip down the stairs.

Rynil helped Mikel get to his feet. "You okay?" he asked.

Mikel rubbed his chest, then felt his head. "I'll be fine. Got a nice lump on my head and my chest is sore, but I'll live."

The two Squires made their way back down to the moat to refill the now empty buckets. "That Squire, Mekrin is it? I remember him. He spit on me the day of the Squire Tournament. I'm starting to think he may not like me," said Mikel, chuckling at his understatement.

"Yeah, well you are not the only one he dislikes. He is an asshole. He does not have many friends among the other Squires but since he is Sir Galreth's nephew a lot of the Knights and a few of the Squires treat him better than he deserves," explained Rynil as they refilled their buckets and made their way back to the second set of latrines.

"Squire Rynil, what did he mean about you being used to doing what a peasant says?" asked Mikel.

"He was referring to my mother. Although, she is not a peasant, she is from one of the northern tribes," said Rynil.

"Your mother's from one of the barbarian tribes?" asked Mikel a bit surprised.

"They do not consider themselves barbarians," said Rynil sharply. When Mikel started laughing, Rynil got upset. "What is so funny?" he scowled.

"I'm sorry, I am not laughing at you. It's just this morning I had the same tone when I corrected a Page for referring to Sir Valen as 'the wizard' in a kind of insulting way. I guess it's easy to talk down about someone you don't know. So let me start over. So your mother is from one of the tribes that live north of the kingdom, how'd that happen?" asked Mikel.

"Well my father's first wife died when she was giving birth to my older brother, or half-brother I guess. About ten years after that the King sent my father as the leader of a group of Knights to try to negotiate a treaty with the northern tribes. The strongest tribe was the Wolf Tribe and after meeting with several of the tribes my father knew that if he could make a treaty with the Wolf Tribe, the rest of the tribes would follow. He spent a year living with the Wolf Tribe and as part of the treaty he married my mother who was one Chief Kalgar's daughters. To symbolize the joining of his family to the Wolf Tribe my father took the family name of Wolfe. So Squire Mekrin likes to try to lord it over me like he is superior cause my mother is not of noble blood," explained Rynil.

"Did you grow up with the Wolf Tribe," asked Mikel.

"No, after they were married my father brought my mother back south. My younger siblings and I were born up near Lord Petris's holdings, which is the northernmost estate in Selarn. My father is steward over a portion of his lands near the border. So I grew up there till I was eight and was sent here and became Sir Alred's Page."

"Why did you come here to be a Page rather than serve at the Lord Petris's keep?" asked Mikel.

"I am not really sure, my older brother did his service at Lord Petris's castle, but I was sent here. My father told me that Lord Velarik personally asked that I come here to serve as a Page. I am glad I came here though, even if I do miss my family," said Rynil.

The boys worked hard to make up for the late start and the time they lost from their encounter with Mekrin. And while Rynil was content to work in silence, Mikel kept talking and asking questions, drawing reluctant conversation out of him. "Why do the Squires have to do work like this? Why don't the servants do it instead," asked Mikel.

"Well the way Sir Alred explained it to me, when Knights are out fighting bandits or on patrol along the border, they do not bring servants along, just their Squires and maybe some men-at-arms. So we have to be used to doing this type of work and not view it as something that is just for servants to do. Also Sir Alred said that Lord Velarik feels it makes us appreciate the hard work of the servants a little bit more if we have to experience some of it for ourselves," said Rynil.

After they finished the last of the latrines the boys returned the buckets, brushes and towels to the Quartermaster's supply room. Rynil showed Mikel the way back to Sir Valen's tower. He said goodbye to Mikel then headed to the kitchen, grabbed a little something to eat and headed down to the stables to get some riding practice in. He always found riding relaxing and after spending the morning with Mikel he needed some time alone to think. He saddled up his horse and rode out to ride down to the south end of the valley where there was a spot on the ridge that had a nice view of the valley.

The morning's events weighted heavily on him, he wanted to not like Mikel but the more time he spent with him, the harder it was to deny that he did like him. Then when Mekrin had pulled his stunt, Rynil had just reacted without thinking and before he knew it, he was standing over Mikel, protecting him just like in the dream. The ride provided him no clarity and be the time it was over he was still torn between admitting he already had feelings for Mikel and resolving to do whatever he could to push the boy away in order to protect them both.

9 – Mikel

Mikel started to reread the same page for the fifth time then decided it was pointless to try to continue reading, so he set the book down. It had been nearly two weeks since he started working with Rynil every fourth morning, and it had proved to be two weeks of frustration. Mikel had become obsessed with Rynil and lived in anticipation of the roughly four hours they spent together.

When he had returned from the first morning of work with Rynil, Sir Valen had been waiting for him. The wizard had seemed to know that there had been an incident with another Squire and demanded Mikel tell him the details of what had happened. Mikel told him how Squire Mekrin had crashed into him and slammed him against the wall. He tried to downplay it because he was afraid Sir Valen would bar him from working outside the Tower anymore and he would not get to see Rynil again.

"Well if that is the worst that happens then I guess you will live," said Sir Valen. "Besides I have a feeling that you are determined to spend more time with this young Squire, Rynil. Still, I do not wish my apprentice to get injured, so I think I must report this to Lord Velarik."

"Master, please, no. I don't wish to cause trouble with the Squires. Reporting Squire Mekrin isn't going to help me make any friends among the rest of the noble boys. I have an idea that should keep it from happening again," said Mikel.

"What is your idea?" asked Sir Valen with skepticism.

"Well Master, I think Squire Mekrin was waiting for us at the top of the stairs. He knew we had to come up that way with the water from the moat. If we didn't have to keep going back to the moat to get water, we could take different routes through the castle and he wouldn't be able to ambush me like that again. If I could borrow the pitcher from my wash room while doing my service, we could avoid him," suggested Mikel.

"I see, and all the time and effort saved hauling the water would just be a side benefit?" questioned Sir Valen.

Mikel smiled slyly, "well that thought had crossed my mind, but it wasn't why I suggested it Master, honest."

"Very well, you have my permission to use the pitcher when you are on duty. And I will not report what happened with Squire Mekrin, this time. Just be careful how you spend that extra time. I do not want to hear reports of you and Squire Rynil getting into any mischief because you finished work early."

"Thank you Master," said Mikel as he jumped up and hugged Sir Valen. The wizard wrapped an arm around the boy and held him close for a second before pushing him away.

"You still smell of the latrines," observed Sir Valen. The wizard waved his hand and spoke a word in the strange language of magic. A tingling sensation washed over Mikel as the dirt and smells that clung to him vanished.

"Thank you Master," said Mikel. He thought for a second, "Master, will you teach me how to do that?"

"You should be ready to learn the cleaning cantrip. It is not much more difficult than detecting magic, which you have already mastered. It shall be your next lesson, as soon as you finish your latest reading assignment," offered Sir Valen.

Over the next few days Mikel devoted himself to completing his reading and trying to master the cleaning cantrip. By the morning of his next service to Lord Velarik, he had gotten to the point where he could get the simple spell right more often than not.

When he met Rynil at the Quartermaster's, the noble boy had been skeptical at first when Mikel insisted that they did not need to go down to the moat first to get water but instead could go straight to the first latrine. Once they got there, Mikel used the magical pitcher to fill the buckets with water. Not having to fetch water from the moat greatly reduced the amount of time it took to finish their task. Afterward Mikel tried using the cleaning cantrip and after a few tries was able to get them both cleaned. Then they found an old unused watch post at the top of a turret of the old keep and talked as they sat looking out over the valley.

Rynil pointed out various features and sites of the town below, the valley, and the hills beyond while Mikel kept scooting closer until their legs were touching. After a few minutes of this contact, Rynil glanced over at Mikel then hastily got up and said he needed to go get ready for weapons training. Mikel thought Rynil looked afraid as he rushed out of the lookout turret.

The next time they worked together things had gone similarly, except this time Mikel had been able to cast the cantrip successfully each time. Again they had sat and talked, this time about how the various holidays were celebrated at the keep, which mainly consisted of tournaments. The calendar was made up of twelve thirty day months, and after every third month was a holiday, with King's Day being after Mid Summer's Day every fourth year. The next holiday coming up was High Harvestide. There would be another tournament for the Knights as well as the Squires. This tournament for the Squires would consist of sword fights, much like the finals of the Squire Games for the peasant boys, except that the Squires were much more experienced than the peasant boys. It was likely that after the upcoming tournament Rynil would be ranked much higher them Mikel and while Mikel would still be cleaning the latrines afterward, Rynil would be assigned a different task. Again as they talked Mikel inched closer, this time he pressed his arm against Rynil's. And again after a few moments of close contact Rynil got up, a fearful look on his face, made up an excuse and left.

This morning the whole thing had repeated itself. The main difference was this time in the morning they saw Mekrin stalking about the stairways of the keep looking for them. Fortunately, they spotted him first since Mekrin was focused on watching the path they would have taken if they were coming up from the moat. Rynil motioned for Mikel to be silent, then he gestured that he should fill up one of the buckets with water from the pitcher. Mikel quietly obeyed and filled up the bucket. Rynil then took the bucket of water and crept up behind Mekrin. Right at the last moment Mekrin heard Rynil and started to turn around just as Rynil threw the water from the bucket at him, drenching him. Mekrin slipped and stumbled down a couple steps as he scrambled away from Rynil. Mikel and Rynil ran to the next latrine laughing the entire way as Mekrin shouted curses at them. Mikel wondered if they would get in trouble for that but ultimately did not care as he felt it would be worth whatever punishment they received.

Afterward as they sat in the watchtower, they recounted the incident with Mekrin and shared a laugh. As they talked and laughed, Mikel again pressed close to Rynil. The laughter gave way to an awkward silence as the two boys sat close, their arms and legs touching. Mikel's cock was hard and judging by the bulge in Rynil's hose, his was too. Eventually Mikel mustered up his courage, leaned over and tried to kiss Rynil. Unfortunately as he leaned in, Rynil turned towards him slightly and their foreheads banged together. The moment broken, Rynil got the fearful look on his face again. "Sorry," he croaked as he scrambled up and again fled the room.

Now Mikel sat at the table trying and failing to read a book on the theory behind transmutation magic. Instead he kept replaying the scene from earlier today in his mind, alternating between mentally kicking himself for flubbing the kiss and imagining he had been able to kiss Rynil. That would eventually lead him into a fantasy of the kiss progressing to them fully embracing and Rynil lying on top of him, their crotches rubbing against each other. Finally Mikel gave up trying to get any more studying done and retreated downstairs to his room to fully enjoy his fantasies.

He figured he would try to get some studying done after getting some relief for his raging erection. Once in his room he lay on his straw bed, pulled out his young cock and again fantasized about lying with Rynil. Imagining his hand was wrapped around Rynil's hard cock stroking him while Rynil returned the favor on his. It was not long before Mikel climaxed and shot his small thin load over his stomach and crotch. As he lay there enjoying the after glow, he spoke the magic word and with a wave of his hand, the evidence of his self-gratification vanished. Magic certainly did come in handy at times.

10 – Rynil

Rynil lay on his back in bed, Karl's arm draped over his chest as the younger boy slept. Rynil was not asleep yet, instead he kept going back over this morning's events with Mikel. No matter how much he resolved to not become friends with Mikel, every time they worked together he found himself giving into his feelings for the boy. The only way to prevent caving into his desires was to not see Mikel. The only way to do that was to get his work duty changed. In order to do that he would need Sir Luken to intervene with the Chamberlain. So he was waiting up for Sir Luken to return so he could ask for his help.

Later that night, as Rynil was battling against sleep, he heard the door to the suite bang open. He slipped out of the bed and went into to find Sir Luken. As he entered the main room he saw the large Knight sprawled on the large chair near the smoldering fire. Rynil entered the room and Sir Luken turned towards him. "Ah there you are boy, I was just going to call for you. Get over here and get my boots off," commanded the Knight, his words slurred together.

Rynil knelt before the Knight and unlaced the top of the boots then removed them. He could smell the alcohol on Sir Luken. Any thoughts of trying to request a favor of Sir Luken were pushed from his mind as he prepared himself for the service he would have to perform. He tried to remember the tips Sir Alek had given him. He messaged Sir Luken's feet for a few minutes after removing the boots, then looked up at the Knight with what he hoped was a slightly fearful look, "Is there anything else you require tonight, Sir?"

"Yes," replied Sir Luken as he gave his crotch a tug. "I need some relief boy."

"Yes Sir," said Rynil meekly. He then reached up and undid the laces on the front of Sir Luken's pants.

Sir Luken clumsily lifted his ass up off the chair as Rynil pulled his pants down, then removed them completely. As soon as his legs were clear of the pants, Sir Luken reached down, grabbed his Squire by his blond hair and pulled the boy's head toward his crotch. He used his other hand to stroke his semi-hard cock, pulling the foreskin back and forth across the head as he slapped it against Rynil's lips, "Open up boy."

Rynil did as ordered and took the fat head into his mouth, licking around the crown as the Knight squeezed the base of his dick. Rynil then reached up and wrapped his hand around Sir Luken's hairy ball sack. As Rynil started to take the initiative in the encounter Sir Luken released his grip on the boy's hair and leaned back in the chair, spreading his legs more. Rynil reached up with his other hand and grasped the base of Sir Luken's cock. Then he started sucking up and down on the top half of the Knight's cock while stroking the base with one hand and tugging lightly on his balls with the other. The extra stimulation was having the desired effect and Sir Luken's cock hardened.

After a few minutes Rynil's jaw began to ache but he kept up the rhythm of his coordinated strokes and kept increasing the pressure on the Knight's balls. Sir Luken was nearing orgasm; he reached down and grabbed the boy's head. Holding his Squire's head, he then began to thrust his hips up and down, driving more of his cock into the boy's throat causing him to gag. As the boy struggled for air between thrusts he squeezed the balls in his hand hard. With a load moan Sir Luken released his grip on Rynil's head and shot his cum into his Squire's mouth.

When Sir Luken recovered from his orgasm, he got up and stumbled to his room and fell into his bed. Rynil followed and finished undressing the Knight then covered him with a blanket. He then picked up the clothes and boots from the main room and tided up the suite. His service completed he then returned to his room and got back into bed with Karl, who mumbled something in his sleep at the disturbance but did not wake. As he drifted off to sleep Rynil thought that perhaps a better opportunity to request help from Sir Luken might present itself tomorrow.

The dream woke Rynil up right as the sun started to rise the next morning. He went to the window and watched the colors in the sky start changing as the sun rose. A few moments later there was a soft knock on the door to the suite. Rynil quickly threw on a pair of hose and a tunic then went to open the door. Standing outside the door was Page Telgan.

"Squire Rynil, Sir Alred wants to see you. Hurry, I do not think he has much time left," said Page Telgan.

"Let me grab my boots," replied Rynil. He quickly returned to his room and finished dressing. On his way out he checked on Sir Luken, who was sleeping soundly. Then he and Page Telgan set off for Sir Alred's chambers. "Has the Priest been able to do anything?" asked Rynil as the boys made their way through the keep.

"The Priest visits every day to try to help relieve the pain but I do not think it helps much anymore," answered Page Telgan. "He has stopped eating, I think he wants to die. I over heard the Priest talking with Lord Velarik when the Lord visited to check on Sir Alred. He said that he was surprised that Sir Alred was even still alive."

As soon as the boys entered the room, the small lump under the covers of the bed stirred, "Squire Rynil?"

"Yes Sir, I am here," answered Rynil as he approached the bed. He was startled to see how quickly Sir Alred had deteriorated in just two weeks. While he had long been skinny and frail, now he was little more than a skin covered skeleton.

"Good, Page, leave us, I want to speak to Rynil alone," ordered Sir Alred.

"Yes Sir," said Page Telgan.

Once the young Page had left the room, Sir Alred began speaking again, "Go to my armoire. On the right side at the bottom near the floor is a small knot in the wood. Press it and a small hidden door will open. Inside is a box, bring it here." Rynil did as commanded, curious as to what this was all about. It took him a minute to find the right spot. He pressed the knot and heard the sound of a catch releasing. He felt around and was able to find a small panel that opened. Inside was a large wooden box, about twelve inches [30 cm] wide, six inches [15 cm] high, and after pulling it out, discovered it was about four feet [1.2 m] long and weight around ten pounds [4.5 kg]. It was covered with engraved runes. He brought it over to the bed and set it down next to Sir Alred.

"I should have given this to you long ago Rynil, but I was afraid. Ever since you first told me of your dream, I have known why the Gods kept me alive. My destiny was revealed, but I tried to avoid it, just as you have tried to avoid yours. At first, I told myself it was to protect you from your destiny, but the truth is that after all these years I have grown afraid of dying. The Gods have given me one last task to complete, and ever since you left they have been punishing me for not doing it. That is how the Gods work, if you try to go against their plans they will make you regret it," said Sir Alred.

"Sir, I do not understand. What are you talking about?" asked Rynil.

"I am rambling, I know. Easiest to just show you," said Sir Alred as he reached out and rest his hand on the box. "Honor and Devotion," he said. The engraved runes on the box glowed briefly and a seem appeared down the middle of the top. As Sir Alred removed his hand, the seam along the top widened as the top of the box opened. Inside was a sword. A sword Rynil instantly recognized from his dream.

"This sword has been in my family for as far back as we can trace our lineage. From father to son, or brother to brother, it has been passed on. But my brother's died before having any heirs, and I was struck down and rendered unable to produce an heir. At first I thought it would eventually go to Lord Velarik with the rest of my property, but when you described your dream, I knew its future. I thought I could protect you by keeping the sword from you, but lately I realized that I kept it cause I knew that once I had given it to you my time here would come to an end. Since you left my service without it, the Gods have decided to make me wish for death. Until I sent for you the pain grew stronger every day, but once I sent that new Page to fetch you, the pain has gone. So with this gift I give you one final lesson, do not run from your destiny. It will only bring you pain. If you deny the Gods, you will suffer a fate worse than death. You understand?"

"Yes Sir," replied Rynil as he stared at the sword. He ran his hand over the leather wrapped silver pummel and gazed at the three feet [1 m] of flawless steel.

"Its name is Galaxth. Its magic is a very old and very strong magic. Hopefully it will be strong enough to protect you from what fate has in store for you. 'Honor and Devotion'," he said and the box magically closed. "I have been honored to know you Squire Rynil. Thank you for your service to me over the years. Please stay with me for a few moments."

"Certainly Sir," replied Rynil as he reached over and held Sir Alred's hand. They sat in silence for a few minutes until Sir Alred drew his last breath. Tears streamed down Rynil's cheeks. He brought Sir Alred's hand to his lips and kissed it. "Goodbye Sir," he said. He let go of the Knight's hand, went to the door and called for Page Telgan. He told him to find the Priest and let him know that Sir Alred was dead.

11 – Mikel

Mikel felt someone's thoughts touch his mind; heinstantly came awake. After a brief second of confusion, he realized it must have been his Master. Then he heard his Master's voice in his mind, "Dress quickly and come to the top of the stairs that lead up to the second floor of the tower." Mikel could sense the urgency in his Master's request, so he quickly threw on his clothes, dragged the brush through his hair a couple times, and ran up to the main floor, then up the flight of stairs that ended in the door to second floor.

The door opened as he reached the top and his Master was waiting. He reached out and grabbed Mikel by the arm. The wizard led him across the room and through a doorway into an adjacent room. Mikel found his vision was blurred and he couldn't make out any of the details of the rooms as he passed through them. He did notice that they were approaching what looked like a large mirror built into the wall of the room, but he could not make out what was reflected in the surface of the mirror. When they reached the mirror, his Master spoke a word of magic and then stepped into the mirror dragging Mikel along behind him.

Mikel felt the strange sensation of teleporting; he suppressed the urge to vomit. They stood in a small unlit alcove in the back of a larger room. There was a large ornate chair on a raised platform in front of them. The chair was surrounded by Sir Balren, the Chamberlain; Sir Galreth, the Lord's Chamberlain; Sir Luken, and several Pages and Squires; including Mekrin. Mikel guessed that they were in Lord Velarik's throne room. His Master led him around the throne and stopped on the right side of Lord Velarik. The wizard drew back his hood and bowed briefly, "I have come with my Squire as requested My Lord. What has happened that requires such urgency?" Sir Valen asked. Mikel was not sure of exactly what to do, so he imitated his Master's bow and remained silent.

"Thank you Sir Valen. It seems Squire Rynil has left the castle with a very valuable heirloom that belonged to Sir Alred. Sir Balren, now that everyone is here, please repeat what you have learned so far," said Lord Velarik.

"Yes my Lord. Earlier this morning Sir Alred sent Page Telgan to fetch Squire Rynil. The two were alone together in his chambers when Sir Alred passed away. Squire Rynil ordered Page Telgan to get the Priest. When Page Telgan returned with the Priest, Squire Rynil was gone. A few moments later he was seen down at the stables carrying a large sword case. He saddled up his horse and fled south. When I was informed of Sir Alred's death I immediately went to Sir Alred's chambers to search for his family's sword. Since Sir Alred had no heirs nor any brothers, his possession become the property of his Lord. I believe Squire Rynil has stolen the sword," said Sir Balren, the Lord's Chamberlain. Mikel had to literally bite his tongue to avoid interrupting the Chamberlain and defend Rynil, but he knew that if he forget his place and spoke out of turn it would do more harm than good.

Lord Velarik raised a hand, motioning for Sir Balren to stop, "Please Sir, I am not as inclined to jump to the conclusion that the Squire has stolen it as you seem to be. It is possible that Sir Alred gave the sword to the boy. I know from my visits with Sir Alred that he cared deeply for the boy. Still, it will not do to have young Rynil out riding about the countryside with such a valuable sword." The Lord then looked directly at Mikel, "Squire, I understand you have been on work duty with Squire Rynil lately and I believe you two are friends. Is there perhaps anything you might know that could aid us in finding him?" Mikel noticed that Sir Luken frowned when the Lord mentioned that he and Rynil were friends.

Mikel thought for a second and remembered something from one of times he had been sitting up in the old watch post talking with Rynil. "Yes M' Lord, at least I think so. He mentioned that he liked to go riding whenever he needed to think and clear his head. He pointed to the south and said there was a spot up on the southern ridge where he could look down over the valley. He said it made him feel like all his problems would seem smaller from that vantage point."

"Sir Balren, did the stable hand say which direction Squire Rynil went when he left?" asked Lord Velarik.

"Yes my Lord, he did. It was south," answered Sir Balren.

"Very well then. Sir Luken, you will head south in search of your missing Squire," commanded Lord Velarik.

"As you wish my Lord," replied Sir Luken.

"My Lord, he will need a Squire to accompany him. Sir Luken, may I offer you the service of my nephew, Squire Mekrin?" offered Sir Galreth.

"Assuming that it is acceptable to his Knight," said Sir Luken looking towards Sir Balren.

"Oh yes, certainly," replied Sir Balren.

Mikel grew concerned as he watched and listened to this exchange. It seemed obvious to him that Sir Galreth and Sir Balren had planned this in advance. He knew Sir Galreth and his nephew Squire Mekrin did not like Rynil. That Mekrin was Sir Balren's Squire was also not likely a coincidence.

"My Lord, may I also suggest that Squire Mikel accompany the search party? He seems to have some insight into Squire Rynil's thinking and that might prove useful," suggested Sir Valen. Mikel was a bit shocked at his Master volunteering him to go along, particularly since his Master knew Squire Mekrin had sought to hurt him once before.

"Very well. Sir Luken, you will take Squires Mekrin and Mikel with you to find your Squire. Sir Valen, please see if your magic can help locate the boy. If you discover anything, I am sure you can send word to the search party. Now I have spent enough time on this already, it is likely that the boy will return to the castle on his own according while you are out searching for him," said Lord Velarik in what was clearly a dismissal.

"Yes My Lord," said Sir Luken as he gave a quick bow. Then he turned to the boys that where standing next to him, "Page Karl, take a couple of servants and bring my chain mail and weapons to the stables. Squire Mekrin, go to the Quartermaster's and have them send three traveling packs to the stables. Tell them we will need supplies for two days. If it looks like we will be traveling further then that I will stop by one of the guard stations for additional provisions."

"Yes Sir!" replied the boys in unison then turned and ran from the room to carry out the Knight's order.

The rest of the men turned to leave, and Mikel was about to follow them when Sir Valen put his hand on his shoulder. "You can catch up with them in a moment. I wish to have a word with you before you leave." After everyone had left the room, Sir Valen reached into his robe and pulled out a long silver chain necklace. He placed it over Mikel's head, "If you are in danger, touch the necklace with your hand and call for me. It will offer you some protection and alert me."

"Master, what's going on? I'm sure Rynil just went for a ride to work through dealing with Sir Alred's death. He was really fond of the old Knight," said Mikel.

"I hope you are right Mikel, but this is not just about your friend. Not many besides the Lord's closest circle of advisers knew this, but Sir Alred was in possession of a very rare sword that has been in his family for many generations. There have been some heated discussions about this sword over the years. It is important that we find Rynil and determine if Sir Alred gave him the sword before he died or if Rynil took it without permission. That is all you need to know for now. I promise you I will tell you more when you return. Now go find your friend," said Sir Valen as he pushed Mikel towards the door.

By the time Mikel reached the stables, Sir Luken was supervising the stable hands as they saddled up his horse plus Squire Mekrin's horse and one of the trainers for Mikel. By the time the horses were ready to go, the travel packs and Sir Luken's gear had arrived. Sir Luken quickly donned the suit of chain mail and strapped on his sword belt. After that, the Knight led the two Squires south out of the castle in search of Rynil.

An hour later as the trio was starting up the incline of the southern ridge, they spotted a pair of riders racing up the road behind them. "Hold up," commanded Sir Luken as he reigned in his horse and took up position between the Squires and the approaching rider. As the riders got closer, Sir Luken relaxed his grip on his sword as he recognized that one of them was his former Squire. Scowling, he yelled out to him, "Sir Alek, what are you doing out here?"

Sir Alek, dressed in his full suit of plate over chain, pulled up along side Sir Luken, "Brother Yoris heard about your expedition and requested that I escort him out here to join you." Mikel recognized Brother Yoris as the young priest that had tended to him after his beating during the Squire's Tournament, except now instead of wearing robes, the priest was outfitted in leather armor, an open-faced metal helm and had a large mace strapped to his belt. This time Mikel was able to clearly make out the sign of The Warrior embroidered on the chest piece of his leather armor. Brother Yoris appeared to be in his early twenties. He had brown hair and eyes, was of average height with a lean slightly muscular build.

Brother Yoris gave a quick bow as he addressed Sir Luken, "Sir, I have come to offer my aid in your search for your missing Squire." The priest gestured to a large sack tied to his saddle behind him, "I have also brought you the rest of your armor."

"Squire Mekrin, get the armor down," ordered Sir Luken. He scowled again as he looked at Sir Alek and the priest, "What prompted this?"

Sir Alek and Brother Yoris exchanged a quick glance then Sir Alek spoke, "After you left, Page Karl came to me and let me know of this morning's events. He was worried about you and Rynil. I suggested we go to the Chapel and offer a prayer to The Warrior for your safety. When we got there we ran into Brother Yoris and I explained what was happening. He immediately requested that I have Karl get your armor and that I should get mine because I was escorting him out here to join you."

Brother Yoris had a troubled look on his face as he interrupted Sir Alek and addressed Sir Luken, "Sir, this morning one of our acolytes came to me and told me that he had had a premonition that, there would be, trouble to the south today. This acolyte has had several similar premonitions in the past that came true. I was praying for guidance when Sir Alek and Page Karl entered the Chapel. When I heard you had ridden south this morning I knew I had to come to warn you and give you what aid I could."

Mikel could sense that there was something more the Priest knew but was unwilling to say. It seemed as if Sir Luken also sensed it, but after a long pause he thanked Brother Yoris. He then dismounted and started strapping the plates over his chain armor with Mekrin's aid. Once the Knight was in his armor, it took the aid of both Squires and Brother Yoris to help him remount his horse. Then the now larger search party resumed riding up the southern ridge of the valley.

Their progress was slow as Sir Luken set a cautious pace through the hills. He was constantly scanning the sides of the road, looking for any signs. Squire Mekrin road next to him and occasionally Sir Luken would instruct him as to what exactly he was looking at, the main one Mikel overheard had to do with horse droppings and how to judge their age. They were near the point where Rynil would have turned off the main road to reach the overlook Mikel had mentioned when Sir Luken called a halt. "Something is wrong here," he declared. He dismounted and crouched down. He ran his hand along the dirt road and under a light layer of dry dirt was a large area of moister dirt. The Knight examined it for a couple seconds then stood up. "Someone has tried to cover up some blood. Dismount and spread out, see if we can find anything else," ordered the Knight.

Mikel did the best he could to suppress the rising fear that was pressing in against his chest. They each headed off the road a bit to search and a minute later Mekrin called out, "Sir Luken, over hear, his horse!" Mikel rushed over and saw that behind an area of rocks was a dead horse, two crossbow bolts stuck out of the corpse. The horse was brown with star shaped patch of white hair on its chest. It had been stripped of its saddle and tackle.

Sir Luken examined the horse for a minute then turned to Brother Yoris. "I believe your acolyte is correct once again. There is trouble here."

12 – Rynil

Rynil woke completely disoriented. It was dark and difficult to breath, his mouth was stuffed with cloth and his head covered with a sack tied uncomfortably about his neck. His hands and feet were bound, and he was lying on his side. He also had a pounding headache. The headache could be explained by falling off his horse when it reared up and Rynil landing head first when he tumbled off. Being bound and gagged was likely related to the crossbow bolt that had suddenly sprung from his horse's neck right before it threw him. His waking had not gone unnoticed as a raspy almost inhuman voice growled at him from above, "Tell me how to open the sssword case or I will hurt you." When Rynil did not immediately answer, his ribcage exploded with pain as the owner of the voice kicked him.

"M' Lord, 'e can't answer, I gagged him before putting the hood on," said a second voice with a tinge of fear in it.

Rynil's head was jostled as the hood was removed and briefly the darkness was replaced with blinding light. As his eyes were adjusting, the silhouette kneeling over him pulled the cloth from his mouth. When the cloth came out Rynil screamed, for looking down upon him was a horned demon head with burning red eyes. The creature clamped a hand down over his mouth to try to quiet the terrified young Squire. "Sssilence!" It hissed.

Rynil stopped trying to scream and instead tried to calm himself. He started to notice there were some differences between this demon creature kneeling next to him and the one from his dream. First, it was smaller; this one had the body of a muscular boy, probably about the same age as Rynil. Instead of being dressed in robes, this one was bare of chest and feet, wearing just a pair of leather riding pants. Instead of speaking directly into his mind, this one had spoken aloud. Rynil also took a quick glance around at his surroundings. He was lying in a small clearing in a lightly wooded section of the southern ridge. Judging from the terrain, he was not too far from where he had been ambushed. He could see two young men standing about ten feet [3 m] behind the demon boy. One had a crossbow drawn and pointed towards Rynil. Both were wearing thick leather jerkins, leather riding pants, hard leather boots, and had swords and daggers on their belts. One of them must have been the one that had mentioned he gagged Rynil. There were also four horses tethered to trees on the opposite side of the clearing. The other thing that grabbed the captive Squire's attention was the sword case that Sir Alred had given him was lying at the feet of the demon boy.

The demon boy saw Rynil look towards the sword case, "Yesss, now tell me how to open it and I will let you live. Refussse and I will make you wisssh you were dead." He extended his hand out towards Rynil and with a quick twitch the hand was wreathed in flame. "Sssuch a pretty boy, you won't be ssso pretty after the fire issss done with you."

At the sight of the summoned flames slowly approaching his face, Rynil was thrown into a flashback from 'The Dream'. He could hear the voice in his mind, "…your struggle has been wasted. Your love will be mine!" Unaware of his surroundings, the Squire strained against his bonds trying to escape the flame shrouded hand before him and the echos of his nightmare in his mind.

"M' Lord, Knights!" called a voice from a short distance outside the clearing. The flames went out as the demon turned away from Rynil and started towards where the guard had sighted the approaching Knights.

"Gag him, or kill him if he calls out to his companions," order the demon. The henchman with the crossbow followed his boss out of the clearing while the other immediately ran over to Rynil and shoved the gag back into the boy's mouth. He then went over to the horses to get out his own crossbow.

Rynil looked over at the sword case that was lying a few feet away. Remembering how Mikel had told him about controlling many of the magical objects in the wizard's tower by thinking at them, Rynil tried to focus his thoughts on the case. He repeated in his mind the words Sir Alred had used, 'Honor and Devotion'. The box responded and the runes on the box began to glow. He rolled himself over towards the box as the top was opening. Rynil quickly shoved his bound hands inside the box and started dragging the rope across the blade of the sword.

The remaining henchman looked up and saw what Rynil was doing. He drew his sword as he rushed across the clearing. He lunged towards the prone boy and at the last second Rynil rolled away from the thrust, the sword from the box grasped in his bloody but now free hands. The henchman spun around tracking his prey but Rynil was already swinging his sword and it sliced completely through his leg just below the knee. The henchman crumpled to the ground while Rynil started cutting through the ropes that still bound his feet and took out the gag.

Rynil could hear the sounds of fighting coming from a short distance away. He ran towards the sound. He rounded a small rock outcropping and the battle came into view. The demon stood in the middle of the path laughing as Sir Luken repeatedly swung his sword, raining down blow after blow upon the demon's naked chest and head. Even though the sword was striking true, the blade found no purchase. It bounced harmlessly off the demon's skin leaving no marks. The demon's two henchmen were taking cover behind rocks and sniping with their crossbows at anyone that came up the path to try to aid Sir Luken and occasionally firing at Sir Luken. Further, down the path Rynil could see the prone form of a Knight in full armor, kneeling above the Knight, positioned with some cover between himself and the crossbowmen was a priest slowly dragging the downed Knight off the path. Seeing a crossbow bolt strike the rock next to the priest, Rynil reacted and rushed over and slashed with his sword at the nearest henchmen, slicing through his back just below the rib cage. The tip of the sword easily cut through the crossbowman's leather jerkin severing the man's spine.

The demon glanced back at the commotion and his laughter stopped, replaced by a growl as he scowled at Rynil. It turned back towards Sir Luken and raised its hands, fire poured out engulfing Sir Luken in flames. The demon then turned and started back up the path towards Rynil as Sir Luken fell to the ground aflame. As the demon approached, Rynil saw Mekrin and Mikel rush out from behind some rocks and charge towards the remaining crossbowman. Mikel had a faint shimmer surrounding him. Time seemed to slow as Rynil heard the crossbow release its bolt and he saw it headed towards the two Squires. The bolt struck Mekrin in the right knee and the boy crumpled to the ground. Mikel kept charging as the crossbowman quickly tried to reload.

Rynil's focus shifted back to the demon as it closed with him and hissed. It raised its hand in a motion identical to that of the older demon from his dream. Rynil held his sword out in front of him. Then, just as in the dream, flames rushed towards the young Squire. This was the point at which Rynil would wake up. Part of him now wished that this was all a dream and he would wake, but he knew in his heart that this time it was real. As the flames reached the sword, they vanished. Rynil and the demon both froze in shock as the sword absorbed the fire. Time again seemed to slow for Rynil. he glanced over towards Mikel. The henchman, unable to reload the crossbow in time had cast it aside and was drawing his sword, but before he could draw it, Mikel was lunging with his dagger and struck him in the stomach.

Again Rynil's attention was drawn away from Mikel and back to the demon in front of him as it reached out towards him. Rynil stepped back then lunged forward with his sword. Unlike Sir Luken's blows, which had not been able to scratch the creature, Rynil's sword struck true and pierced its skin, sinking into its chest near the left shoulder. After that everything seemed to happen at once. Mikel called out Rynil's name while the demon's once life like head morphed into what looked like a demon shaped leather hood which turned towards Mikel. "Mikel?" the masked creature called out in a feeble but boyish voice before it crumpled to the ground. Rynil's sword slipped from his fingers and stayed embedded in the creature's shoulder. Standing above the fallen creature facing Rynil was Brother Yoris with his mace in hand. Brother Yoris looked and saw that Rynil was not seriously wounded then went to check on Sir Luken.

Mikel slowly approached the unconscious demon boy. He looked down at the boy with the demon shaped leather hood, "Wilrik?"

There was a bright flash and the robed form of Sir Valen appeared a few feet away, his hands raised ready to cast a spell. He slowly relaxed as he surveyed the scene. He then approached the prone form of the demon hooded boy. "Ah, no wonder I could not locate you when you activated the necklace. The demon was blocking my scrying. No one touch the sword," he commanded. The wizard then glanced over at the priest, "Brother Yoris, how are the fallen?"

"Sir Luken has severe burns and needs immediate attention back at the Temple, Squire Mekrin is stable and will survive, although he will likely have a slight limp for the rest of his life. Sir Alek is dead," replied Brother Yoris, his grief evident in his voice.

"Very well, I will take Sir Luken to the Temple, as well as the demon. I will get word to Lord Velarik about what has happened. I will send some Knights to meet you," said Sir Valen as he picked up the boy, being careful to not dislodge the sword and carried him over to where Sir Luken was lying unconscious. He laid the boy down next to the burnt Knight, then with a hand on both of them, he spoke a word of power and the three of them vanished.

13 – Wilrik

Laughter, hate, rage. Wilrik knew the beast was fighting again. He tried to clear his mind, to will himself to disappear into the darkness around him. In the void there was no terror, no horror, no fear, no guilt, no remorse; there was nothing. It was always hardest to disappear into the nothingness when the beast was hurting others. That was when the beast liked to force Wilrik to experience what was happening. Wilrik was struggling to resist the beast when suddenly it was gone. He was overwhelmed for a second as long forgotten physical sensations came flooding back to him. The next thing he knew he was on the floor of a barn. He could feel a dull distant ache in his chest near his left shoulder.

"Hoot," sounded an owl that was on a rafter over his head. Wilrik sat up and looked at the owl. It was sitting there staring back down at him. Then it spread its wings and glided towards the barn doors and landed on a rail next to them. It looked back at Wilrik, "Hoot." Wilrik stood up and walked to the closed doors. As he put his hands on the door all the memories of what had happened since the orcs had taken him from the barn that night started to come flooding back. He recoiled; when his hands left the door the memories stopped.

A familiar voice from the other side of the door called out, "Rynil." It was Mikel's voice, he was outside the barn! Wilrik reached out again for the door but stopped himself before touching it. No, I don't want to remember, he thought as he pulled his hand back. He tried to call out Mikel's name but could not remember how to speak. The owl jumped off the rail and landed on his shoulder and gave a small hoot as if encouraging him.

Wilrik struggled to find his voice. Finally mustering his strength he yelled as loud as he could, "Mikel?" Then everything went black again as the void returned.

Muffled voices brought Wilrik back around to awareness. He opened his eyes and found that he was once again lying on the floor of the barn. He could hear voices coming from the other side of the door. He strained to listen and could start to make out what was being said.

"I have been able to stop the worst of the bleeding for now but as long as that sword remains in him I cannot heal the wound. The sword is interfering with my magic. We have an hour, at most, before he bleeds to death," said a voice.

"We cannot remove the sword until the demon hood is removed. The magic of the sword is keeping the demon suppressed," responded a second voice.

"Sir Valen, can you remove it without killing the boy?" asked the first voice.

"No, but I believe I know someone that can," replied Sir Valen, the owner of the second voice.

"Durren?" questioned a third voice.

"Yes, if anyone knows how to remove one of these it would be Durren," replied Sir Valen.

"Very well, summon him," commanded the third voice. "Brother Barton, I request that you keep what you are about to see in confidence."

"Yes My Lord," responded Brother Barton. A moment later he gasped. "Sir Valen?" asked Brother Barton.

A new voice spoke, "Greetings Brother Barton. Do not be alarmed. I am Durren. I am a friend and ally of the War Mages. When needed I can visit them, so to speak. Now, let me take a look at the boy." After a minute or so of silence Durren spoke, "I will be able to remove the hood. Physically the boy should be fine if he can survive the sword wound."

"Excuse me Master Durren but what exactly is that hood?" asked Brother Barton.

"The easiest way to describe it is that it is a vessel for a demon's soul. When it was put on the boy it allowed a demon to enter this world and possess the lad. The magic of the sword has driven the demon back into the hood and is keeping it suppressed. I will need to use some magic to remove it without killing the boy, and in order to do that; I will need the sword removed. As soon as it can the demon will try to retake possession of the boy's body and he will go into convulsions, but I should be able to stop the demon. Lord Velarik, when I start to pull the hood off I will need you to pull the sword out. Brother Barton, when the sword is out, you will be able to heal the boy's wound. Does everyone understand what they need to do?"

"Yes," the two other men replied in unison.

Inside the barn, Wilrik fell to the ground in pain grabbing at his neck. It felt as if someone was peeling off his skin. Then the entire barn started to shake and an ear splitting howl seemed to be coming from all directions. Wilrik writhed on the ground grabbing his head; blood began flowing from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears. Around him the barn was on the verge of collapse from the intense shaking. Then an instant later the shaking stopped, the blood and pain were gone and the owl was back, sitting up on one of the rafters. It hooted down at Wilrik and cocked its head.

Something was different about the barn. Wilrik could feel it. He got up and looked around. As he turned, he heard a horse whiny as it kicked against its stall. In the back of the barn was a stall that had not been there before, and inside it was the largest horse Wilrik had ever seen. It was jet black and had burning red eyes. It had chains around its neck and on each hoof, but there was just enough length in the chains that its rear hoofs could reach out and kick the back wall of the barn. Wilrik knew just by looking at it that it was part of the beast made manifest, and he was now trapped in here with it.

"Brother Barton, can you to see if the boy's mind is damaged? The divine arts are more suited to the ailments of the mind and soul than my powers are," said Durren. A moment later Wilrik could hear the sound of wind buffeting the barn. The door swayed gently then the wind stopped.

"Interesting. The boy's mind is fine but his soul is absent. There is some type of barrier though that is inside him. I suspect it is shielding his soul from his own mind. While I was in there I got a brief glimpse of some of the boy's memories. Everything the demon ever did while it possessed the boy is stored in there, everything it saw, everything it felt, everything! I fear it would be better to kill the boy rather than try to take down that barrier. Just the brief glimpse I got will haunt my dreams. The best the boy could hope for is madness," said Brother Barton.

"And the worst?" asked Lord Velarik.

"That the evil in his own mind overwhelms his soul and controls the boy," replied the priest.

"Lord Velarik, if the memories of the demon are in the boy, then he knows more of our enemy than any of us. I believe I might be able to find someone that can help the boy. I would ask that you turn him over to me. If need be I will have the Council of Mages formally make the request of the King, but I would prefer not to wait that long," said Durren.

"I will give you my answer tomorrow Durren. First I would speak with my councilors and learn more about what has happened today," answered Lord Velarik.

"Very well. Sir Valen can summon me when you have made your decision," said Durren.

"Brother Barton, how is Sir Luken?" asked Lord Velarik.

"He is in a coma, but he will live. His burns were severe and he will be disfigured. He should wake in a few days and he will be fully recovered otherwise in a couple of months," said the priest.

"That is good to hear. I would like you to join us back at the castle. While you cannot mention the details of Durren's presence here, I would like your thoughts on this matter when I meet with my advisers," said Lord Velarik.

"Yes my Lord," replied the priest.

"Sir Valen, are you back with us?" asked Lord Velarik.

"I am, my Lord," replied Sir Valen.

"Good day Brother Barton, I will send word for you when we are to meet," said Lord Velarik.

There was silence for a while and Wilrik guessed that the men had all left. He turned to look for the owl but could not see it anywhere in the barn. The horse kicked and pulled against its chains. Wilrik went to the farthest corner of the barn from the horse's stall and laid down, curling up into a ball.

14 – Mikel

After Sir Valen left, a silence briefly fell over the remaining members of the search party. That was until Mekrin came out of his initial shock and started screaming in pain. Brother Yoris finished his prayers over Sir Alek's corpse and then started tending to the wounded squire. Mikel was still shaking slightly from the rush of combat. He looked down and noticed blood on his hands and legs. He checked himself and realized it was blood from the bandit he had stabbed in the stomach. He looked over and saw the young man lying a few feet away, dead. After a few moments of staring back and forth between the man he killed and the dagger in his hand he realized that his Master had shown up briefly and teleported away with Sir Luken and the demon headed boy with Wilrik's voice. Sir Alek was dead as well as another bandit that Rynil had killed.

Mikel looked over at noticed Rynil was sitting on the ground crying. The Squire had blood on him as well. Mikel went over and sat down next to his friend. "Rynil are you hurt?" he asked.

"This is all my fault. Sir Alred tried to warn me but I did not listen. Alek, Alek's dead because of me," cried Rynil.

"No Rynil, it's not your fault, you saved us. You were able to hurt that, whatever it was. Without you it would have killed us all," said Mikel trying to comfort Rynil. But Rynil wasn't listening, he dropped his head and continued to cry.

"What are you crying for you bastard, you are not the one that took an arrow to the knee," growled Mekrin. "I am going to be a cripple now and you are right, it is your fault!"

Mikel saw Brother Yoris holding a hand over Mekrin's wounded knee and concentrating. Out of habit Mikel shifted his sight and watched as soft golden energy flowed out of the priest's hand and poured into the wound healing it. "You will not be a cripple. It is likely you will have a limp but you will be able to walk and ride," said Brother Yoris as he stood up. "Mikel, can you bring up the horses."

Mikel's heart was aching as he looked at Rynil and knew there wasn't anything he could do right now to help him. Brother Yoris had to ask him again to go get the horses before he tore himself away from Rynil's side, "Sorry, I'll go get them."

It took a few minutes for Mikel to make his way back down the small trail to where they had left the horses on the road. While he was gathering them up and leading them up the hill he was thinking about what he had just seen and heard. It had been over two years since he had last seen Wilrik, but he was sure that had been Wilrik's voice that called out from behind the demon head after Rynil had stabbed it with the sword. Mikel had so many questions, but there was no one around to answer them. His Master had teleported back to the castle without giving him a chance to ask any questions about what had just happened. Perhaps Brother Yoris would have some answers.

Brother Yoris was not there when he got back up the hill. "Rynil, where's Brother Yoris?" he asked. Rynil just continued to sit there as if he did not hear Mikel.

"He went to find the demon's camp. It is just up the path, that way," answered Mekrin pointing up the hill towards some rocks.

Just then Brother Yoris came around the rock outcropping carrying a sword case and leading four horses. "Thank you Mikel. I think it would be best if we start heading back to the castle rather than wait here. I need you boys to get Sir Alek's armor off so we can put him over a horse and bring his body back. I am sure the Lord will see that he gets a proper funeral to honor his valiant sacrifice."

Mekrin and Mikel responded immediately but Rynil just turned and stared at Sir Alek's corpse. Part of Mikel wanted to just run over and hold Rynil and try to help ease his pain, but Mikel was having enough problems dealing with his own emotions. Instead he did as Brother Yoris requested while Brother Yoris went over and spoke quietly to Rynil.

Mikel almost vomited when he got over to Sir Alek's body and saw the dead knight up close. The young knight was lying on his back and had a crossbow bolt sticking out of his bloody face. The bandits had taken them by surprise and the crossbow bolt had struck him before he had a chance to lower the visor on his helmet. A bolt had struck Sir Luken as well but it was a glancing blow on the shoulder and did not penetrate the thick steel plate.

Mikel followed Mekrin's lead and they were soon able to get Sir Alek's plate armor off and packed into the saddle bags that had been used to carry Sir Luken's armor. Brother Yoris removed the bolt and with the help of the two squires laid Sir Alek's body over the saddle on his horse and tied him down. Then they collected the rest of the gear and set off back to the castle.

They had just reach the part of the road where it came down off the southern slope of the valley and flattened out when they saw the half dozen knights accompanied by their Squires that had been dispatched from the castle. The party was lead by Sir Galreth, the Lord's Champion. He spoke briefly with Brother Yoris, then he and four of the knights continued up the road to make sure there were no more bandits in the area while the other Knight and all the squires escorted the group back to the castle. Mikel glanced over at Rynil several times during the ride to see how he was doing. Rynil had stopped crying and was staring blankly at the road as they made their way to the keep.

When they rode into the keep Sir Balren, the Chamberlain, and his Master were waiting in the courtyard. Sir Balren was the first to speak, "Brother Yoris and Squire Rynil, you will accompany us to speak with Lord Velarik. Squire Mekrin please take Sir Alek to the Temple of the Warrior so they may start preparing the funeral rites." Sir Valen motioned for Mikel to come over to him. Mikel, Brother Yoris, and Rynil all dismounted and a couple of the Squires rode over and grabbed the leads from their horses and took them away towards the stables.

As Brother Yoris and Rynil followed Sir Balren into the keep, Sir Valen put his hand on Mikel's shoulder, "I know you must have a lot of questions, but they will have to wait for now. Hopefully, some of them will be answered later this evening, but for now I want you to return to the tower. You have had an eventful day. Eat something, take a bath, and try to get some rest. I will come see you after I am done with meeting with Lord Velarik." With that he turned and entered the keep. Mikel was filled with concern for Rynil as he headed back to his rooms in the tower. He was also concerned about Wilrik.

15 – Rynil

Rynil listened as Brother Yoris recounted the events of the day to Lord Velarik, Sir Valen, Sir Balren, and Brother Barton. He started with his meeting with the Acolyte and ended with the battle. Rynil paid particular attention to what happened during the battle before he had arrived.

"Sir Luken and Sir Alek were at the front of the search party as they came up the path. They had drew their swords as they headed up the path following the tracks as the rest of us followed behind. I heard a pair of crossbows fire and the next thing I knew Sir Alek was down on the ground with a crossbow bolt in his head. The bolt fired at Sir Luken glanced off his armor. Sir Luken charged up the path and encountered the demon, who was coming down the path. Sir Luken was swinging his sword and hitting the demon but the blows were just bouncing off its skin. The crossbowmen kept the rest of us pinned down. The battle turned when Rynil rushed out and killed one of the crossbowman. The demon then conjured fire to dispatch Sir Luken and turned to face Rynil. With the demon distracted, I ordered Squires Mekrin and Mikel to charge the remaining crossbowman while I went to help Sir Luken. Once Rynil stabbed the demon I thought it might be vulnerable so I ran up behind it and struck it in the back of the head with my mace. It was at about this point that Sir Valen arrived," said Brother Yoris.

"Thank you Brother Yoris," said Lord Velarik. "Sir Valen has already given us his report on the events. Does anyone have any questions for Brother Yoris?"

"Yes," said Sir Valen. With his hood pulled back, he was absentmindedly scratching his short gray beard as he spoke. "Brother Yoris, can you tell me more about this Acolyte and his premonition?"

"Acolyte Stefan has had several premonitions before. They come to him in the night and so far they have all come true," replied Brother Yoris.

"You mentioned that he said there was going to be trouble to the south. Was he more specific than that?" asked Sir Valen.

Before answering, Brother Yoris looked over at Brother Barton who nodded at the younger priest. "Yes Sir. Acolyte Stefan had seen a vision of a young brown haired knight stuck down by a crossbow bolt through the eye. He gave enough of a description that when I saw Sir Alek enter the Temple this morning I knew it was Sir Alek he had seen," said Brother Yoris. The grief and shame the priest felt was obvious in his voice and expression.

"You lead him to his death!" yelled Sir Balren.

It was the older priest, Brother Barton that answered, "Yes he did Sir Balren and any of my Brothers would do the same. The first time Acolyte Stefan had one of his visions was five years ago back in his village. He had seen the image of the local Priest of the Warrior dead the next night at the top of the wall. The boy was able to describe in detail where on the wall the priest was killed. He told the priest about his vision but the priest did not realize the full significance of the boy's dream. That night the priest stayed inside and did not venture out. The next morning it was discovered that some thieves had slipped over the wall and broken into the home of the town's richest merchant. They killed the merchant and his entire family of six. The local tracker was able to determine where they had climbed over the wall; it was the exact spot the boy had described to the priest. The priest spoke with the boy and his parents and got permission to bring the boy to our Temple here, so he could be trained in the order. Since then the boy has had two more visions, including the one from last night. In both instances I firmly believe the death of the one individual in the vision has saved multiple lives."

Brother Yoris looked over at Sir Balren, "When I told Sir Alek that our Acolyte had seen that Sir Luken and the search party were in danger, he volunteered to ride out to help them. He was brave and willing rode into danger in order to aid others. If he had not been there, I believe that Sir Luken would have been stricken down by the bolt instead. Then the two Squires would have been dead before Squire Rynil arrived. Squire Rynil would have faced the demon and both crossbowman alone and been killed. So yes, I brought Sir Alek with me, even though I knew it would lead to his death."

"Where is the priest that brought Acolyte Stefan here?" asked Sir Valen.

"The day after he arrived with the boy, he killed himself," answered Brother Barton.

"Any other questions for Brother Yoris?" asked Lord Velarik. When no one spoke, he turned towards Rynil, "Now, Squire, please tell us what took place in Sir Alred's room this morning when you were alone with him."

The morning seemed so long ago to Rynil. He had to think for a moment to remember how the day had started. "Sir Alred directed me to open a secret compartment in his armoire. Inside was a sword case, the one that is over there on the table," he said pointing over to the table next to Lord Velarik where the sword case and sword were laid out. "I brought it over to him and explained that he thought the Gods had kept him alive all these years so that he could give me the sword. He warned me that the Gods were cruel if you tried to avoid your destiny. He was right. Then he told me the sword's name is Galaxth and it is old and magical. He put the sword away, said goodbye, and then asked me to sit with him." Rynil was able to tell the events of this morning without crying. He had cried himself out.

"Why did you flee the castle with the sword? It is because you stole it!" accused Sir Balren.

"Sir, I did not flee the castle, I just, I wanted to, no needed to think about what Sir Alred had said. I did not steal the sword," said Rynil in a defensive tone.

Sir Valen walked over towards the table and placed Galaxth inside its case. "Squire Rynil, can you close the case?" he asked.

"Yes Sir. Honor and Devotion," said Rynil. The top of the case closed and the runes glowed briefly.

"Honor and Devotion," said Sir Valen as he stood over the case. There was no reaction from the sword case. "Sir Balren, will you please speak the command words."

"Why, what will that prove?" asked Sir Balren indignantly.

Lord Velarik looked over at his Chamberlain, "Please Sir Balren, indulge Sir Valen and speak the words Honor and Devotion." As Lord Velarik said the words there was still no reaction from the case.

"Fine, Honor and Devotion," said Sir Balren. Nothing happened.

Sir Valen nodded towards Rynil. The Squire knew what Sir Valen wanted. "Honor and Devotion," he said. The runes on the box glowed and the top of the case opened.

"Well, regardless of what any of us may think or wish, the sword and its case certainly recognizes its rightful owner," said Sir Valen. Rynil noticed him look over at Sir Balren and smirk briefly before turning and walking back to Lord Velarik's side. He then turned and looked directly at Rynil. "Squire Rynil, you mentioned Sir Alred said something about his destiny. Can you tell us exactly what he thought that destiny was?"

Rynil stared back at Sir Valen for a second before lowering his head. He could sense that Sir Valen already knew the answer to his question. "Yes Sir, he said he knew his destiny was to give the sword to me. He said the Gods would not let him die until he did and that his pain was because he had not done it yet."

"How did he know this?" asked Sir Valen.

Rynil figured out where Sir Valen was going with this line of questioning. Rynil raised his eyes to meet Sir Valen's gaze again. "He told you about my dream," said Rynil.

"Yes and no," replied Sir Valen. "He came to me soon after you became his Page. He mentioned that you were having the same dream over and over and it was troubling you. He never gave me the specifics of the dream. After a discussion of the theory behind dreams and the difference between normal dreams and prophetic dreams, he told me that he believed yours was a prophetic dream. He also said that in your dream you had his family's sword. We discussed the implications of that."

"Squire Rynil, will you please tell me about your dream?" asked Lord Velarik, his tone indicating it was an order and not a question. Rynil nodded and then described the dream to the Lord. He also mentioned how when he first saw Mikel he knew that he was the person he was standing over defending and when he saw Sir Alred's sword for the first time that morning, he knew it was the sword from the dream.

"Thank you Squire Rynil," said Lord Velarik. "I am satisfied that Squire Rynil is the rightful owner of Sir Alred's family sword. I hereby decree that he is innocent of any wrongdoing in today's events. Now Squire, if you will excuse us we have a couple other matters to discuss. You are officially dismissed from your duties for the rest of the week. Get some rest."

"My Lord, with your permission, I will escort Squire Rynil back to Sir Luken's quarters and return shortly," said Sir Valen.

"Very well," nodded Lord Velarik.

Sir Valen motioned towards the table where Galaxth rested in its open case then headed towards the door. Rynil closed the case by speaking the words, scooped it up in his arms and hurried after Sir Valen. He caught up to him out in the hallway.

The wizard looked back to see that Rynil was with him and then pulled up the hood of his robe so that his head was covered. "Rynil, I know you blame yourself for today's events and I am unlikely to be able to dissuade you from that notion immediately, but I want you to think on something over the next few days. When you woke up this morning did you have any notion that Alred was going to give you that sword, or that you would seek to visit your spot up on the valley ridge to ponder its implications?" asked Sir Valen.

"No Sir," replied Rynil. He looked up at the robed wizard as they walked through the hallways of the castle trying to catch a glimpse of his face in the darkness of his hood.

"Yet by that time, Stefan had already had a vision of Alek's death. The demon and his henchmen were already out there waiting. There are powers at work here that are beyond your control or understanding. One of which is that sword you carry. I am worried about how eager Balren was to gain possession of it this morning. If you would trust me I would like to borrow the sword and its case for a few days to put some protections on it that will help safeguard it for you."

"You have given me several things to think about Sir Valen. If it is okay with you, can I give you my answer about the sword tomorrow?" asked Rynil.

"That would be fine. Before you decide, please bring the sword to my tower, I would like to examine it with Mikel. It would help further his education," said Sir Valen. At that point, the pair had come to the door to Sir Luken's rooms. "I will say goodbye for now. Remember, Alek's death was not your fault. There is a young boy in there that needs you right now, and you will be of no help to him if you blame yourself or if you are still covered in dirt and blood," said Sir Valen as he put his hand on Rynil's back and gently pushed him towards the door.

While Rynil was opening the door, he noticed that Sir Valen must have used that cleaning cantrip on him. He turned to say thank you to Sir Valen but the wizard was gone. Rynil looked around puzzled for a second then he heard the sound of sobbing coming from the room he shared with Page Karl. He hurried into his room and saw the small brown haired ten year old Page curled up on top of the bed crying. Karl did not react when Rynil entered the room.

Rynil climbed onto bed next to the boy and wrapped his arms around him. Karl turned into the older boy and buried his head against Rynil's chest. For an hour, Rynil just simply held him as he cried. Eventually the crying died down to sniffles. "I was going to be his Squire," said Karl softly.

"I know, he told me. He loved you very much," said Rynil.

"Then we were going to be Knights together and travel around the Kingdom fighting in tournaments," said the grief ridden boy.

"You will still be a Knight and be able to fight in tournaments," said Rynil trying to comfort him.

"I never cared about being a Knight, I just wanted to be with him," said Karl as he resumed sobbing into Rynil's chest.

16 – Mikel

Mikel lowered his body into the tub of hot water. He had already cleaned himself using magic, this was just to relax by soaking in the hot water. After the day's events he was not in the mood for his usual fun in the tub. Within a few minutes of lying in the tub, he fell asleep. The water was the perfect temperature to keep him from being too cold or overheating. A couple of hours later, his Master's mind touch woke him up from his nap. Yes, Master? he thought.

My apologies for disturbing you, but there is a guest out in main room that wishes to speak with you. Since I will be busy working on something for Lord Velarik for the rest of the evening and most of tomorrow, I hope he will be able to answer some of your questions for you. He is a friend and ally of the War Mages and can be trusted, said his Master's voice in his mind.

Mikel climbed out of the tub and saw there was a fresh change of clothes sitting on the shelf of the linen cabinet. He used a slightly modified version of the cleaning cantrip to instantly dry himself and fix his hair. Then he slipped on the pair of hose and the tunic from the linen cabinet. When he opened the door that separated the bathroom from the main room he saw a young twenty year old bard sitting at the table. The minstrel had shoulder length brown hair and his eyes were as blue as Mikel remembered. "Durren!" he shouted as he ran over and hugged the bard.

"Mikel, I am so happy to see you. You seem to be doing well considering the circumstances. Sir Valen has caught me up on most of the details of your life since we last met. Wizard's apprentice and a Squire, not bad!" said Durren smiling as he held the boy close and ruffled his hair. Mikel climbed up into Durren's lap and clung to the bard. Durren chuckled softly, "Rough day? Want to tell me about it?"

Mikel recounted the day's event to Durren. He had a bit of difficulty telling the minstrel about killing the bandit and he was in tears by the time he got to the part about Wilrik. After he finished, Durren just held him and let him cry.

When Durren had figured that Mikel was in a place where he could listen and actually understand, he said "Killing someone is always hard but you had to do it. That man was trying to kill you; he may have been the one that killed Alek. If you had not killed him he may have killed Rynil. You had to do it. The thing that separates you from people like him though, is that you only did it because you had to and yet you still feel bad about it. Trust me that man had killed innocents before and felt no remorse over it. Now, I know Sir Valen told you that I might be able to answer some of your questions and I am sure you have a bunch, particularly about the demon."

Mikel took a minute or two to compose himself. "Is that really Wilrik?"

"Yes. I believe that the orcs that took your friend were working for the demons," answered Durren.

"Why'd they take him?" asked Mikel, fear evident in his voice.

Durren stroked the boy's hair as he answered, "I think you know the answer."

"They thought he was me," stated Mikel. "But why would they want me?"

"There is one particular demon out there that has long sought to take the throne of Selarn. It wanted you so that it could use one of its demon minions to harness your magical ability."

"Is there a way to save Wilrik from the demon?"

"I believe so. Your Master was able to separate the demon from your friend but Wilrik is traumatized by what he has experienced over the last couple of years while the demon was in control of his body," explained Durren.

"Can I see him?" asked Mikel.

"Not yet. Tomorrow morning I am going to take him to someone I hope can help heal his mind. Hopefully he will be well enough one day so that you can visit with him. But I must warn you, there is a chance that he may not survive."

"Do you think he will ever be able to forgive me for what happened?" asked Mikel.

Durren put his hand on Mikel's chin and pulled his head up so that he was looking into the boy's eyes, "There is nothing to forgive. What happened to Wilrik is not your fault. If you had not hidden, the orcs would have taken you as well. Then instead of Wilrik being possessed by a demon, he would have been killed. At least now, he has a chance to live. I need you to be strong. Guilt, doubt, fear; those emotions can be fatal when using magic. You understand?"

"Yes," replied Mikel.

"Good, because I need your help with Rynil. He has been having a dream that has him all twisted up inside his head. Until he shares that dream with you, he is not going to be able to properly prepare for what is to come."

"Durren, how do you know the future? What is coming?" asked Mikel.

"I cannot tell you much yet. Sometimes knowing too much about the future can be dangerous. The Gods sometimes give us hints as to what is likely to happen, or more accurately what the Gods want to happen. For example, our first meeting on Mid Summer's Day was not chance. I had come to Telisan looking for a peasant boy with magical potential who would be competing in the games. I did not know it was going to be you until we talked. You were actually the third boy I spoke with that day. Once I meet you and heard your story, I knew you were the one I was supposed to find. I have told you as much as I can at this point. I need to go and discuss a few more things with your Master and his Lord. I know you still have more questions but I cannot answer them yet. I am going to leave you a book that will help explains things. You will be able to read it when you are ready, or more accurately you will be ready when you are able to read it." The bard then reached down into a backpack on the floor next to his chair, and pulled out a book and set it on the table.

Mikel looked at the tome and saw that the title was in some script he did not recognize. Durren stood up and Mikel slid off his lap. "I am going upstairs now. Remember, you need to get Rynil to tell you about his dream, but try to be subtle about it. He probably would not react well to you just blurting out that you know he has been having a vision. We shall see each other again soon so goodbye for now," said the bard. He then leaned down and kissed Mikel on the lips.

17 – Wilrik

The hooting of the owl woke Wilrik. He had no idea how long he had been asleep on the floor of the barn. The horse was still in its stall but was quiet. He got up and went over to the door of the barn. He turned his ear towards the door and he thought he could hear the very faint sounds of movement outside. Then his stomach gave a lurch and he felt dizzy so he sat down. When his head cleared and he felt a bit better he was sure he heard sounds through the door of the barn, it sounded like the crunching of leaves under someone's feet as they walked along a leaf strewn trail. After a while, the sound stopped.

"Marsella?" said one of the voices Wilrik had heard yesterday.

A few moments later, a female voice responded, "Durren? It's been a long time. You must need something. Let me guess, it probably has something to do with the unconscious child in your arms."

"Yes, I have come to ask for your help with this boy. One of Nazrepon's demons possessed him. I was able to remove the demon but the boy's soul is walled off inside his mind. I was hoping you could help him," answered Durren.

"Well come in then. Lay the boy down over there and let me have a look," said Marsella. Inside the barn, the owl flew down from the rafter where it had been resting. It landed next to Wilrik and stared at him for a moment. Then it flew over, landed next to the horse, stared at it for another moment and then it flew out of a small window that was high above the door.

"Very interesting," said Marsella. "There appears to be a small area of his mind that has been carved out and made into a safe place for the boy's consciousness to reside. It is not of his own creation. It feels like the work of my Mistress. I also took a look at the rest of his mind. I have no doubt that to heal him is beyond my power. Now normally I would be inclined to argue that it would be an act of mercy to let those that have been possessed by demons die but, in this case I think we should try to save the boy. And I am not saying that just because I already know that you desperately need to believe that boys such as him can be saved. I do not think my Mistress would have intervened in this case if She did not also want this boy saved."

"If you cannot help him, then who can?" asked Durren.

"Only one of my Mistress's true children can hope to save him," said Marsella.

"By coincidence do you happen to know where I might find one of the Night Hunter's children?" asked Durren.

"Yes, and you know as well as I do that there are few coincidences when the Gods are involved. I believe you will find him in a brothel in Astavala. His mother was from one of the desert tribes, so he has their look, dark hair, brown eyes, very light brown skin. He will appear to be around thirteen or fourteen, but age is harder to determine with the 'God born'. I was also given an image of the brothel owner. He was pale, rotund, and dressed all in purple. I got the sense that he was a eunuch. Hopefully that will help narrow your search," said Marsella.

"Astavala? Hmmm, can you look after the boy here for a few days? I will need to return this host to Telisan as he has business to attend to there. I believe I still have a host in Astavala that I can use, if he hasn't died of old age yet. Thank you for your help Marsella. I am in your debt again," said Durren.

"Yes, I will look after the boy until you return, but Durren I worry about you. Every time you visit you seem a bit more remote. Hosts? You used to call them by their names. Answer one question for me, how many more lives are you willing to risk in your quest to redeem one soul?" asked Marsella.

"For Azril? As many as it takes," replied Durren. For a moment there was silence inside the barn, then the horse woke up, let out a horrific scream and started bucking against its chains.

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