A/N: Whoo hoo quick update! I've got the writing bug, so I'm trying to use it as much as possible!
Chapter Eight: Galen, Garrett, Thaddeus, Leon and Baldric
"Strike, thrust! High block, cut!" yelled Gawain
Bors hobbled onto a wooden bench so he could peer out across the number of men grouped before him. All young men…too young, holding large single-handed swords, some longer than the men were tall. He tried not to smile at the sight, knowing that he was once this small, this inexperienced. Now, however, he could feel that there would be a time in the near future where he would not be able to lift the sword he had used.
Glancing around, he looked for Lucan and raised an eyebrow at what he saw. The boy was struggling, slightly at least. Bors tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out just what was wrong. He frowned, stepping down from the bench and moving through the lined rows of men to the boy. He stopped in front of Lucan; hands crossed over his broad chest, and surveyed him.
He found the tiny problem after only a moment. The boy seemed to favor his left hand over his right and Bors moved to him, holding up a hand so he would stop his movements.
Lucan swallowed hard as he saw Bors approach him, trying to grip the sword tighter, trying to force it to behave. He pushed his hair from his brow, feeling the sweat beading down his forehead. He felt his face tinge red when the man stopped to watch him. He looked up at Gawain, following his movements and orders as closely as possible.
"Thrust, low block!"
It was a moment before he saw the hand and once he did, he abruptly stopped, standing straight.
"Y-yes?" He asked hesitantly.
"Your right arm, is it injured?"
Lucan frowned and looked down at his arm and shook his head. "No, sir. I…when I was young my arm was broken and was not tended to right away."
"Yes, yes…but wasn't that fixed by – "
"Yes sir, though I still favor my left hand." Lucan quickly interrupted.
Bors thought for a moment before nodding and taking the sword from Lucan before putting it in his left hand.
"Then use your left hand if you must, mirror the moves you see."
Bors smiled reassuringly at the boy and moved on, looking back to watch as Lucan did as he was ordered. Lucan gripped the sword much better with his left hand and turned to mirror the moves he watched Gawain execute. He found his balance and strength better, smiling softly to himself.
At noon, when it was vastly approaching a scorching temperature, Gawain lowered his sword, turning to watch as the men now in front of him fell to one knee and stripped off their helmets, drenched in sweat.
Lucan, along with many others, remained standing, too tired even to fall over. He removed his helmet gingerly, placing it softly on the ground.
Gawain nodded and sheathed his own sword. "Good, all of you, dismissed for today!"
Lucan sheathed his sword and returned it to its proper place, but as he turned to leave he found Bors barring his way out.
"Excuse me." He said politely, looking down, waiting to pass.
"Come with me." Bors ordered, grabbing Lucan by his bicep and pulling him along.
Lucan began to protested, but dared not. Bors was no longer just the husband of his employer, but his superior officer. He swallowed hard, and wondered just what was in store for him. Had he done something wrong?
Bors pulled him into a small wooden building, and Lucan's eyes widened at what greeted him. Hanging along the walls were axes, swords and outfits of armor. Lucan could hardly grasp the numbers of weapons and when he could tear his eyes away he realized Bors had left his side.
"Sir?" He asked, looking around before spotting the large man by the biggest selection of armor by far.
Bors turned to look at Lucan and motioned him over before prying an axe from its place on the wall. He looked down at it, turning it over in his hands, looking for any damages…or perhaps he was just looking for the sake of remembering.
Frowning, Lucan obliged Bors, moving to stand beside the man.
Sighing, Bors turned the weapon over in his hand once more and held it out to Lucan.
Lucan's eyebrows furrowed and he opened his mouth to speak.
"It was Dag's." Bors' voice is gruff and he looks up at the suit of armor behind him. "He used it most."
The axe was heavy in Lucan's hand as he placed it amongst his things. He looked about his small room, now located in the barracks and took a deep breath. He could not look at the axe, could not grasp the fact that here was something besides the ring he wore about his neck to remind him of Dagonet.
But he did not wish for thoughts of a man he had spent the better part of his life trying to forget.
A sudden knocking at his door gave Lucan a start and he quickly folded the axe up in a tattered blanket and placed it under his bed, turning and moving to open the door.
Lucan was met with a few laughs and male voices. He frowned, seeing a young man about his age he knew from training. For the life of him, he couldn't remember the man's name.
"Oi, Lucan, a few of us are going to the tavern. Join us, why don't you?" he said, turning and motioning to the group of about four men behind him, all around the same age as he.
Lucan paused for a moment and looked back at where he knew the axe was resting safely. He sighed and then nodded, "Sure."
The boys laughed and cheered merrily, grabbing Lucan and pulling him out with them.
"You may not know many of the men here." The man who had greeted Lucan began. "That's Galen, Garrett, Thaddeus, Leon and I am, of course, Baldric the Great."
Thaddeus, a blonde boy who seemed to be smiling more often then not, snorted in disbelief. "Baldric the Great Arse." He murmured, earning a punch on the shoulder from Baldric but he let loose a loud laugh.
Lucan glanced at the boys walking behind him. He had seen them around, of course. As they were all of his age, they had all retained similar jobs as squires and local freelance workers to earn whatever they could. However, he didn't really know them. When he was still a child one of these boys had probably tried to befriend him, but Lucan had never taken notice. After a while, any child near had not even glanced his way, knowing it would be of no use.
Galen could easily be spotted. He was the blacksmith's son, and had smudges of black on his hands, clothes, and freckled face. Every now and then he would run a hand through his long, sandy hair and add a few blots of black there as well.
Lucan was currently being squished between Garrett and Leon, both of whom had inky black hair, though Leon's reached his upper back and Garrett's was cropped around his face in tight curls. While Leon had bright green eyes, it was hard for Lucan to look at Garrett's deep brown ones. They appeared so dark that there may have been black holes in Garrett's eyes.
Lucan could call none of the boys present his friends, but he supposed it would do no harm to get to know his fellow soldiers. So, as they made their way out onto the street, he smiled and talked with the men and as they entered the tavern, he looked around for Vanora…or Catherine. They found a table, and Lucan sat near Leon and Baldric while Garrett, Galen and Thaddeus sat down near them, Thaddeus pulling out his set of dice.
"How are you holding up?" Leon asked as Baldric pounded on his table, trying to get a barmaid's attention.
"Fine." Lucan said simply with a shrug and Leon nodded in agreement.
"I expect it'll get much worse before it gets better."
"I don't think it will get better for another year." Lucan said truthfully.
"I can't wait for training to be finished."
"Aye, some of us don't need the blasted training." Baldric said curtly.
"Some of us do more than others." Leon reminded him, rolling his eyes.
"Fuck it all; what does it take to get some service around here!" Baldric yelled, catching the attention of a dark haired girl.
Before she could turn, Lucan knew it was Catherine and winced, knowing that Baldric's bad humor would reflect badly on him. She searched for the cause of the noise and spotted Baldric before her eyes flickered over the table. Her eyebrows rose into her bangs, surprised to find him amongst these boys. She hesitated before excusing herself from another patron to make her way over.
Lucan looked down, trying not show his embarrassment. When he looked up, she was taking orders.
"Mead, please." He ordered quietly.
His politeness garnered him a few chuckles and looks from the boys. Baldric laughed and looked up at Catherine.
"Drink for all of us, and…" Baldric reached out, grabbing Catherine around the middle and shoving her into Lucan's lap, "Perhaps you could keep him company as well."
Catherine blushed from her nose to her toes as Lucan caught her softly. She jumped up quickly and Lucan smiled apologetically.
"Well, hurry up, girl!" Baldric yelled and Catherine shot him a glare before she moved off to get their order.
When she was gone, he turned his attention to Lucan.
"Who's that bird? Wouldn't mind getting her into my bed for a night, eh? I expect she'll lose that baby fat if I work it off of her." He chuckled.
Lucan flushed red and looked down at the table. "Her name is Catherine."
"Already worked her, have you?" He asked, laughing once more.
"I work with her, here." Lucan said simply, "I haven't bedded her, if that's what you mean."
"Have you bedded anyone, Lucan?" asked Garrett, who slid away from gambling to hear the conversation.
Lucan blushed even more, glaring at the boys. "Have you?" he fired back at the boy angrily.
Galen laughed. "Garrett? Nah, he's too shy, aren't you wittle Garrett?"
"Shut it, you prissy boy."
Galen laughed and looked over at Lucan, "If they ever ask something like that again, just give them a punch to the face and they'll shut up easily enough. That's why Thad's nose is so crooked, he knows what happens when he makes me angry."
"Galen, you couldn't punch the broad side of a barn." Said Thaddeus, throwing a dye at the boy's head.
"Could thing your nose is about the size of Briton!"
Thaddeus laughed at this, pounding his hand on the table as he did.
Lucan raised his eyebrows at this exchange and smiled. Once Catherine came back with their alcohol, Lucan was pleasantly laughing and joking with the rest of them. When he saw the mug in front of him, however, he looked up at her. She didn't look back, and finished serving the table without a glance.
He frowned and got up, "Be back, boys."
He followed after her, stopping her before she could go into the back, "I'm sorry about that…what happened before. They're just joking, you know. It's harmless."
"Don't worry about it." She said, finally looking at him in the eye.
"They don't mean anything, so just ignore them. Or hit them, that is what Galen told me to do."
"I said don't worry about it Lucan, go have fun with your friends." She shrugged and pushed into the backroom, smiling at him.
Lucan sighed in frustration, giving up and walking back to the table. At least she had smiled, that meant she wasn't mad, right?
Leon raised one eyebrow at Lucan, who frowned. "What?" He asked.
Leon shrugged, "Oh nothing," he said with an amused smile on his face.
Lucan felt self conscious for a moment, but it was soon forgotten as he continued to talk and soon eat with the men around him. It was a strange feeling, being surrounded by people who wanted to be around him, but it wasn't bad.
After most of the boys had gone home, Lucan stood, excusing himself from Baldric and Thaddeus, who seemed to be busy with two girls that Lucan knew very well to be prostitutes. Lucan cleaned up the dishes left over on his table, stacking them and taking them into the back. He set them near the sink basin, where Catherine set down her own stack moments later. She was surprised to see him.
"I thought you'd have gone home by now." She said, wiping her hands on her apron.
He shrugged and began to wash the dishes.
"Lucan! You-stop! You don't have to do that!"
"I want to." He said, continuing to work.
She sighed and shook her head at him, turning to continue cleaning. He smiled at her retreating back, finishing the dishes in front of him. With each stack she brought he would dutifully clean until he was sure that was the end.
Lucan turned to find Catherine leaning on a counter, watching him critically.
"What?"
She snapped out her staring and stood straight, "Nothing. I'm…er…I'm going home, and I need to shut everything up…"
Lucan looked from her to the front room, surprised to find it deserted, the front door locked.
"It's later than I thought."
She nodded, "You need to get to sleep for training tomorrow morning."
He sighed, looking from the back door to the front, nodding softly.
"Come, I'll walk you home."
"Oh, no, it's fine I can – "
"Catherine," he interjected, grabbing her hand, "c'mon."
She managed to delay him long enough to shut and lock the back door. He pulled her up beside him, keeping his eyes on the road to the front and the alleys around them.
"So, you're making new friends, I see." She commented softly.
"Eh, maybe. I doubt we'll spend time together again."
"Why?"
"Well, they're them…and I…I'm me. You know me."
"Oh, that explains it." Catherine said, snorting at the insufficient answer.
Her hand began to sweat a little from his grasp and she turned red at the thought of what he might do or say, but he didn't drop it.
"Well, I'm not very…social…"
"You seemed 'social' enough tonight."
Lucan smiled at the memory, but he shrugged the next second, his eyes downcast. "We'll see. Here we are."
Catherine looked up at her house, surprised they had arrived so quickly.
"Oh, well, good night. Go get some sleep." She ordered with a wrinkling of her nose.
He watched her smile, hesitated and then leaned down to kiss her cheek chastely before taking a few steps back.
"You too, you have to run the tavern by yourself now, my young apprentice."
"Ah, but I have Vanora, and I do believe the apprentice has become the master, I did good work tonight…" she said, trying to mask her surprise with jesting.
He smiled and nodded, "You did great. Good bye."
"See you tomorrow?" Catherine asked hopefully and Lucan nodded. "See you tomorrow, then."
