A/N: Feel free to shoot. But before you do, know I've been reading tons on the Arthurian legend and definitely know where the story is going. I think, hehe. I know it's very short, but it sets up the next chapter.
Chapter Nine: Sunday
I don't feel like a soldier, Lucan thought while Galahad blathered on about the duties and sacrifices one must make for the duty of the sword. Sitting a bit straighter, Lucan struggled to think positive thoughts about the ideas being presented to him. This was a learning experience, he negotiated with himself, and a different idea. It might be stupid, he thought, but it's definitely something new.
He was, however, doing a better job than Baldric, who sat in the back and who Lucan could see sleeping soundly. It seemed Thaddeus was having a grand time, using the tip of his finger to disturb the sleeping squire gently.
Lucan turned his head forward once more, rubbing at his temples. He wasn't bored; on the contrary, he listened with subdued alertness. However, while he took in the noble words, it was hard to believe them when he felt as though his limbs might fall from his body. It was hard to take the words: "Live by your weapon," seriously when none had even battled a real opponent besides the wooden poles on the training grounds.
"We've done sword work, now we're moving on to axe you should all be well acquainted with the basic moves by the end of the lesson today. I know you're hurting, but if you push just a bit harder each day, it'll get easier." Said Gawain.
The men stood and herded like chattle to gather their weapons, walking out of the soldiers' quarters and onto the grounds, readying themselves in preset positions.
Perhaps that is all we are…livestock to be used, Lucan thought whimsically, but discarded the thought as a nuisance and went to pick out an axe, all the while his thoughts drifting to the one wrapped in cloth beneath his bed…
Several boys, including Lucan, fell to the ground in exhaustion, the axes sliding from their slick, sweaty hands onto the dusty ground beneath. Abdominals, biceps, and shoulders ached, but Bors simply used his commanding voice to berate the young men who were 'too exhausted to go on' as one of them put it.
"Too exhausted? Will you be too exhausted when an enemy comes at you?"
The gruff old man picked up a trainee by the collar, throwing him to the side, "Get out of my sight." He growled.
The remaining boys got to their feet as swiftly as they could, hunching over to breathe.
"First rule?"
"Never relent!" the company shouted, standing straight into a combat stance.
The three knights smiled in satisfaction before ordering the dismissal.
"I think, if we split along the costs above the wall, it may be enough to flank them."
"Yes, but what if it's not?"
"Shall I remind you all that splitting up the men may come back to bite us through the arse?"
"If you have a better idea, by all means…"
"No one has an idea that's at all better – "
"I do. Let's go in, beat the bastards like we always do."
"Oh, bloody brilliant Bors why don't you do it single handedly then we – "
Arthur sat straight, silencing the men with a gentle raise of his hand. He looked haggard and older than he ever had.
"The thing is, gentlemen, we don't exactly know what we're up against. There's no way to tell from what side their coming into. We assume the North because that's been the most readily accessible when the Roman Empire was in rule… We may have established a fantasy, a kingdom where all can live in peace, and neglected to realize that this island is still in the midst of enemies swarming from all sides." He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "We're going to need help."
"From who?" Galahad asked incredulously.
Catherine's eyes widened, looking over the disarrayed mess of humans in front of her, the front door still open behind. Her mouth had fallen open when she saw what was before her.
The shock had lasted about two seconds before annoyance had taken over.
"Wake up." She said sternly.
When the drunken boys before her didn't stir one bit her eyes flashed dangerously. She tapped her foot impatiently but when none of them moved this time she growled, marching up to the table.
"Wake up!" She snipped a little more harshly and picked up an empty mug, slamming it on the table.
Most of the boys jumped at once, groaning and holding onto their heads. Her eyes narrowed and she slammed the mug down once more.
"Galen! I know your father, what would he say if he saw you now? And you, Thaddeus are already on unsteady ground with Vanora, if she finds you here she'll beat you over the head with Bors' sword!"
Galen smiled apologetically, blushing from the tips of his ears to the end of his nose, "Sorry, Cathy." He murmured slowly.
Thaddeus simply sighed, rubbing the sleep and drunkenness from his eyes, "What are you bloody sorry about, she's the one wakin' us up." He grunted.
Garrett and Leon, who had only just now become accustomed to the bright sunlight streaming in from the open door winced at this comment and prepared for –
Slap!
"Get up and get your sorry butts home and to church!" she screeched, kicking at the closest chair that Baldric happened to be on.
Thaddeus murmured curses as he stood, rubbing his cheek. But he wouldn't dare hit a girl and walked toward the door. The others stood as well, a little more slowly, dragging their feet. Catherine saw them out at the door and a few of them stopped to apologize.
Leon winked as he walked by and Garrett stopped to apologize.
"And don't take it out to hard on Lucan, we sort of…urged him a little too much to let us in here."
Catherine's face didn't show a sign of mercy and she shrugged, "Nice of you to try to protect him."
"Seriously, it's not his fault – "
"Good bye Garrett."
The boy sighed and continued on his way, praying that Lucan, who had not been seen, was far away from the tavern today.
Catherine closed the door behind Garrett and sighed, leaning up against the rough wood. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before looking at the mess in front of them. Truth be told…it could have been worse. It seemed the boys had picked up after themselves except for the last thing they had had before falling asleep right at the table, and that was only a few mugs. It didn't even smell that bad…
As she picked up a few mugs she frowned, listening to the shuffling coming from the back. She frowned and then glared towards the back.
"Oi! You in the back! I've already kicked your brothers out, if you don't get to moving out of this tavern I'll…skin you with my uncle's good hunting knife!" she called, starting toward the kitchen.
When she didn't hear footsteps right away she frowned and opened the door peeked her head in.
"Lucan?" she asked.
The boy looked up from his dishes, nodding a hello.
"What are you doing? Dishes? Again?" She asked, sounding defeated.
"Would you rather?" he asked, stepping back from the wash basin, his hands coated in soapy suds.
She shook her head, "No, no. By all means – you know, just what the hell were you thinking!?"
Lucan was shocked at the sudden attitude change. He frowned and then lowered his eyes to the ground, shame-faced.
"I'm sorry." He said genuinely.
Catherine opened her mouth to berate him, but closed her mouth and sighed.
"Fine, at least your trying…better than those other sacks of – "
"Do you mind?" he asked suddenly.
Catherine looked taken aback. "I will call them whatever I'd like – "
"No, I mean, could I have those?" he asked, pointing to the mugs in her hands.
"Oh, yes, of course." She said, sliding them into the water. She paused for a moment before looking up at him.
"I'm still mad at you, you know."
Lucan raised an eyebrow in confusion, "About what?"
"About this stupid thing, this fighting thing."
The young man rolled his eyes and went back to washing. "Could we please just have a pleasant Sunday? I'm tired, Catherine, and I want to get this done and then go find a nice place to crawl into and sleep."
She scoffed and leaned back against the counter, "You aren't going to work."
Lucan shrugged, "Vanora hasn't spoken to me about it, I could later, but right now I'm afraid my skull will burst open if there's anymore excitement this early."
Catherine nodded, biting her lip in contemplation, with nothing more to say.
"Tonight you should come with me to the festival." Lucan said suddenly.
The girl shook her head quickly, "Oh, no. I shouldn't. My uncle…"
" - will simply believe you're with friends, being a good Christian girl and praying."
Catherine shot him a dirty look which he simply returned with feigned innocence. He sighed once she didn't relent and dried his hands on a towel, walking over to her and shaking her shoulders.
"Come, you'll have fun, I swear it."
"You shouldn't swear." She chastised.
"You were doing it enough for the both of us earlier, I suppose."
She scowled.
"C'mon Catherine, you know you want to go."
She shook her head, defeated. "Fine, but I'll not have you drinking too much, or being rowdy."
He smiled and nodded, "I swear it."
"Don't swear."