My youth was probably one of the happiest times of my life. What else can a young boy ask for but wide open plains, haystacks aplenty, grand halls with many hiding corners and above all many other children to play with. Vidugavia's court didn't function much like a Gondorian one but more like one big family that included everyone up to the King down to the lowest stable-boy. Children addressed pretty much every adult man or woman as 'Uncle' or 'Aunt' and every elder with 'Grandfather' or 'Grandmother'. Everyone knew each- others name and it wasn't an uncommon to see the king congratulate one of the kitchen-maids on her marriage or one of the dog-boys on the birth of his baby-sister. Everyone had things to do of course, the servants' children often had chores of their own while the warriors' children had lessons to follow. There was still plenty of time to play though and if there wasn't we made it. I have many times returned home all muddy and wet to find either my father or my mother ready to scold me for missing yet another history lesson. There was one lesson I never missed though: the martial arts lessons. In a country where every noble was a warrior and every warrior could become a noble it was pretty much the dream of every boy and also of a few girls to become one. I was no exception and I faithfully showed up at each lesson.
I had a variety of teachers. 'Uncle' Cniva was the one who taught me horsemanship. He was one of the few dark-haired Northmen I knew and a tall quiet man who was said to be able to speak the language of horses. The most skittish and nervous horse would calm down around him and even the stable-master would ask his advice sometimes. He tried to teach me all the tricks he knew and though I've always been to fiery to be as good as he was, I soon became an excellent rider. Alaric was responsible for teaching me the spear and the bow. He was one of the youngest warriors and I called him 'cousin' instead of 'uncle'. He was very good though and in later years I heard he became Theodahad's champion. As all young warriors he had a sizable amount of pride however and in the beginning he rather resented the fact he had to teach me. He soon became one of my best friend though and later my source of love-advice. Not that it was very good.
I had two teachers for swordfighting, 'uncle' Odovacar taught me to fight like a Northman while my father tried to teach me the Gondorian way. I have to say I thought it rather silly at the time to learn two styles. My father was a wise man though and he may have foreseen what was to come. He persevered and I would thank him for that many years later.
My last teacher was 'uncle' Ecca and the only one I choose myself. Though at first glance I can be mistaken for a Northman with my fair hair an blue eyes I have inherited the lanky build and slow growth of the Gondorians. This made me at times a favourite target for the bigger boys and though I was already a fierce fighter I usually ended up with more bruises than them. It was after one of those fights, when I came back home, limping and with a nice black eye, that I ran into 'uncle' Ecca. Though Ecca was married he never had children of his own and since he had been my mother's godfather he considered me as something akin to a grand-son. He was outraged when he heard what had happened and he was about to storm to give those boys a spanking when I stopped him. Ecca was a rather old warrior by now, but together with his drinking capacity he had been well known in his younger days for his fistfights. So I asked him to teach me. His first reaction was to laugh for I was, as I said earlier, a rather scrawny little boy at that time. I've always been stubborn though and in the end he agreed. My father wasn't very happy about this, he didn't want his son to become a common brawler, but I have never regretted them. Sword-fights don't always end clean.
With teachers as good as those I soon became a reasonable fighter and when I turned fifteen I was for the first-time allowed to ride with the King's war band. I was very proud of that fact and couldn't stop talking about it for days. I didn't understand the knowing smiles then, but I did a few weeks later. Though Vidugavia had proved himself to be a just and good leader over the years there were still some resentment among the lords about the way he had forcibly brought them under his rule. A month after my birthday there was an uprising and though it wasn't as big as Ahtagais's it was sizeable enough for the whole war-band to march out, including me. I didn't know the horror of battle then and I was confident in my skills, so fear was the thing furthest from my mind. When we ran into our foes one week later it came back with a vengeance though. Shield-walls are the most fearsome places on earth especially for fiteen year old boys and this was a lesson I learned very well that day. I never suspected that my greatest enemy would not be my opponent before me but my own body that was screaming to me to bolt. I was trembling all over and only shame was keeping me in position. I fought though, and according to those beside me I did it well, yelling challenges all the way. I wouldn't know, I can only remember the gut-wrenching fear in the beginning and then the mindless haze thereafter. In the end we won the battle with relatively few losses but I wouldn't be able to tell how. My father found me afterwards sitting on a log staring in the distance. He had to call me three times before I reacted after what I promptly broke up in tears. Strangely enough his first reacion was to smile. I had discovered the true nature of war and for that he was proud. I knew now that a battle was not the field of glory it was described in the songs. It was simply a place were people died fast and were only a combination of skill, guts and enormous luck kept you alive. When I finally calmed down I had one of the longest conversations I've ever had with my father. The sun had already set when we finally made it back to camp and though I couldn't be called a man yet I had definitely left my boyhood behind.
The year that came next was rather strange but not unpleasant. I was a true warrior now, but I was still standing somewhere in between the world of children and that of adults. One moment I was pulling pranks with my old play-mates or getting scolded by my father for my awful writing while the next I was trying to kiss my first girl or practicing with the war-band. Yes it was rather confusing, but I was content and I wanted it to never end. It was not be however.