AN: I have used the word 'twot' deliberately. It's just funny and 'twat' sounds too modern!

Chapter 10

Now thirteen years old and still Vaizey's page Guy had toughened up considerably. That's what almost four years had done. But today was his thirteenth birthday and he selfishly wanted to have the day for himself – he understood his feudal ties but didn't want, as he felt lately, for his personality and soul to be absorbed as Vaizey's property.

He was influenced hugely by his master and on the eve of his birthday Guy didn't want to be moulded, but be an individual. Tomorrow he would make his request, which he thought, in his bolder moments wasn't too much – one day off…

He wouldn't be missed for one day, or so he thought. It was a high risk scheme, either he would be allowed a day of happiness to enjoy his birthday, or it could turn out to be the hardest day of his life; handing the very weapons with which the Sheriff could beat him with.

It all depended on the Sheriff, and his mood, and he was unpredictable at the best of times. But, if Guy thought about it in any detail, he decided that the consequences of asking had to be better than not trying at all.

To accept that his birthday was meaningless and to accept that if it didn't happen to fall on a Sunday that he would have to work, was too degrading.

Also, if the Sheriff knew it was his birthday (while that was near impossible because his master didn't remember things about insignificant people), if he did, then he would be taunted beyond belief for not asking.

The only option to avoid all taunting was to ask for the day off and hope that the Sheriff was in a good enough mood to grant his wish.

The next morning Guy got up early in order to serve breakfast to the Sheriff, with any luck he would be away from the castle in less than an hour, off to spend the day with Matilde. Consequently, he was slightly shaking with nerves as he walked towards the room hoping that the questioning would be short.

Guy entered humbly with his head bowed carrying the tray of food, and set it down on the table in the Sheriff's private quarters. The Sheriff did not eat with the masses of the Castle in the morning; he said once a day was enough and he liked his privacy in the mornings.

"Guy," the Sheriff said sardonically as he walked into the room connected with his bedroom. Judging from the tone of voice his voice Guy's confidence dropped tenfold, but he pushed himself to ask anyway.

Last Sunday in Church the sermon was on Moses, the Old Testament Prophet who had led the Israelites out of bondage from their Egyptian masters. His heart had filled with hope when he heard the story. It was his faith in happy ending which spurned him on to ask for today to be his.

Guy cut to the chase.

"My Lord, may I have the day off?"

Vaizey who had just sipped his mug of ale chocked. Vaizey couldn't be more shocked if the table had said the same. It was sheer madness. His voice was hoarse when he said,

"Er, What?! …What do you need the day off for?!" he said still too taken aback to be cross.

"It's my birthday," Guy explained.

This was not going well Guy thought. Never give someone startling news when they are drinking, he scolded himself. He'd buggered it. The Sheriff came back to his senses with frightening speed,

"You may have the day off… When I'm DEAD! …Oh I'm sorry I forget myself 'Congratulations' it's your birthday; well, 'well done!' you've gone another year without dying!" the Sheriff said sarcastically.

Guy winced. He could not take back his words and he was sure the Sheriff's irritation would not abate soon, and he would probably needle him to death for it now. The Sheriff's rant continued.

"You Dare presume that your birthday is more important than serving me, your master?!" Guy didn't respond and to be fair it was a rhetorical question but the Sheriff wanted a reaction. He came forward grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and shouted,

"Answer me!" but the Sheriff went on regardless of the lack an 'answer'.

"I think you need to be reminded of your place," Vaizey said silkily with a disturbing change in approach, and he slowly removed his small fruit knife and walked to stand behind Guy. If only Guy could have seen the Sheriff's eyes at this point they were merciless, and at once the cold metal of the knife was at his throat.

"I'm the master you're the servant, Remember that! … and Guy… now that twot Egbert is off to Canterbury to train for the Church, you're my squire."

Guy was given a quick clip around the ears for good measure then he was sent down to the Great Hall to polish, what he knew would be an endless amount of silverware, as punishment.

Was promotion a punishment though? Only time would tell.

…

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