Chapter 3

Training Day

A large bell that hung from one of the palace towers began to ring loudly, awaking a deeply sleeping Thom. Still weary from the long trip to the palace, he awoke slowly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Yawning, he moved in a zombie-like fashion and splashed cold water onto his face, waking him up in an instant.

Gary arrived at the doorway to Thom's room, annoyingly cheerful and wide-awake. He shoved a whole tray of food into Thom's hands as the door peeked open. "Here. You're going to need your strength," he said simply before Thom could say anything.

Thom accepted the tray with a sigh and picked out an apple, biting into it hungrily. Quietly, he followed Gary to their first class, wondering what he was to learn first.

"First class is reading and writing," Gary said, heading into the room.

Thom stretched. "But I already know how to do both," he replied with a shrug.

"Really?" Gary grinned. "Well, I'm sure the teachers will find something for you to do then, heh."

Thom did not like the sound of that and decided to play it safe. Entering the classroom, he gaped at the Mithran priest dressed in bright orange robes and sighed. As if I need anymore reminder of me being stuck in here, he thought glumly, taking a seat beside Gary. But that's no reason to not have a bit of fun while here. Thom grinned evilly.

At the end of class, Thom played stupid and the teachers assigned him to practice his calligraphy and to read a very short poem. He was to report on both the next day, although he guessed his teachers did not expect much from him. It was a simple plan, and if he kept it up, he wouldn't be so overworked.

"So what's next?" the redheaded boy asked casually as Gary led him to his next lesson.

"Mathematics. Makes my head spin," Gary replied. "But I'm sure a Trebond like you would find it nothing."

Thom fought the urge to scoff. A "Trebond like him" did know his mathematics well enough as if it were easy as breathing. But he had no intention of revealing that little secret just yet.

Alex chuckled and caught up behind Gary. "A regular scholar."

"My father was strict on studying, that's all," Thom replied, "trying" to sound modest. He even gave a shrug, as if the topic disinterested him.

"Sounds exactly like my father," Gary replied dryly, rolling his eyes.

Thom shrugged again. "I wouldn't know. I don't think they ever got along."

The rest of the day had gone on slowly. Thom fought hard not to fall asleep during his lessons. A Mithran priest almost caught him dozing off during a class on etiquette. Yet, much to his surprise, Thom found himself very much awake for one class. It was at this particular class that a Mithran priest did not instruct the lesson. Instead, a rather ruffled looking man by the name of Sir Myles of Olau taught it.

Thom, despite his normal reclusive self, found that he tolerated the old knight. Although he would never admit to liking the man, Thom found Myles interesting and worth listening to.

Myles met amethyst eyes gaping at him and smiled. "Oh, I see we have a new student joining us today. You must be the young Trebond lad. Tell me, how is your father?" he asked politely, trying to start up a conversation.

Thom shrugged. "Last time I checked, he was writing an entire manifesto on the Rylkal Document," he replied honestly. That should keep him busy for the next ten years or so, he added silently to himself.

At this, the old knight chuckled heartily. "I see. So how are you liking Court so far, young Trebond?"

Again Thom shrugged. "I couldn't say. Perhaps if I see more of it, I'll give you a straight answer."

"I do hope you like it here at Corus," Myles said, smiling at Thom. With a final nod, he turned back to the rest of the class and said, "Today we'll be learning about the Tortallan Wars, as Duke Gareth so kindly informed me to lecture you on, as opposed to the Code of Chivalry."

There came a few groans from the room and the old knight laughed once again. "I think we've argued enough on the Code for day," he added.

Thom sat in class and paid close attention to every word Myles spoke. And from what he heard he couldn't help but smile. He was sure to like this Sir Myles of Olau after all.

It was sad to say that Thom's intellectual heaven was soon yanked away from him as the day went on. After a lesson on philosophy, he – much to his horror – was led into the practice courts. There, Thom was to learn wrestling, sword fighting, staff fighting, archery, and other skills needed for a knight.

"…Here you'll have to also learn the basics on falling and how to stand properly, you know," Gary's voice droned on, causing Thom to go pale.

More and more, Thom suddenly felt the sickening feeling in his gut tighten. It was the end for him. He was done for. There would be nothing left of him once the day was over.

Gary caught sight of Thom's anguishing look and chuckled. He clapped Thom on the shoulder and remarked reassuringly, "Don't worry, fire top. It's nothing too bad."

Alex smirked and walked beside Gary, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "That is…If you think getting dirty, tearing lots of muscles and ligaments, bruising yourself, and breaking every bone in your body easy, then I guess you'll survive," he said mischievously, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gary shrugged. "Well if you put it that way, of course it's going to sound bad," he snapped, shaking his head with a sigh.

Raoul caught up with the three pages and grinned as well. "Face it, Gary, training to become a knight sounds terribly painful."

"I was only trying to get Thom to think positive for a change," he said through gritted teeth. He glared at his big friend and made a warning sound.

Thom was barely listening to the bickering friends. He was completely worried about the training to come. He was going to be embarrassed in front of the whole Court. He was going to be a laughing stock. He was going to be humiliated! Oh, the shame of it all! he thought bitterly. Inhaling deeply, he took another step forward. "Prepare for the pain."

Within the next few hours, Thom was dressed in a padded armor, holding a staff in his hands. His objective was to learn how to stop a blow aimed for him using his staff. Needless to say, he was not very successful. Despite his padded armor, he felt as if Chubby had kicked him. Matters did not improve when he was made to practice falling and slapping the ground correctly.

If the young noble had no more pride left in him, he would have thrown himself onto the ground in despair and burst into tears. Luckily, he still held a little dignity to keep himself from disgracing his name ever more.

The lessons went on for hours until Thom felt that he could no longer hold his head up high without wincing in pain. When the training ended for the day, he hobbled into the castle and leaned against the wall, clutching his ribs. It hurt to breathe.

As he staggered down the hallway, the redhead bumped into none other than Gary. Hoarsely, he gasped, "W…what's next?"

Gary glanced at Thom, a look of sympathy in his face. "We've a few minutes to wash up for dinner. Make sure you stay awake," he advised, ruffling Thom's red hair.

"And make sure you don't drop any plates or trays, especially when it's your first time," Alex added, tagging along next to Thom. "You want to make a good impression now, eh? Duke Gareth won't be happy if you drop anything."

Raoul and Jonathan caught up with the three pages, followed by Francis. Raoul smirked slyly when he heard the conversation. "Yes, you don't want to end up like poor Jon over here," he said, patting Jonathan's shoulder, almost sympathetically.

Jonathan blushed. "Raoul…"

Gary clucked his tongue loudly. "Oh, that's right. The previous night, Jon dropped this tray of gravy on my father's lap. It wasn't a very pretty sight, you know," he said, snickering.

The prince shot his cousin an icy glare. "Gary! You…you…you–"

"Jon! That's not very princely of you," Alex teased, snickering as well. "As I recall, the duke was furious. But don't worry, someday, he'll eventually forgive you. You did ruin his best robes, after all."

Thom was barely listening to the conversation. All he wanted now was to sleep.

That night, Thom nearly dozed off on his feet even before the meal even started. His whole body felt numb and his fingers – bloody and swollen – were almost incapable of gripping anything.

Thom groaned softly as he felt a soft nudge on his ribs. Jolting awake, he found Gary clearing his throat and twitching his head to the side. Thom immediately glanced over to his side and noticed a grumpy looking page holding up a tray of food in front of his nose.

"Here!" the page snapped crankily, shoving the tray unceremoniously into Thom's hands. "You've been standing there for so long, I was wondering when you were going to wake up. Take this to his Grace. Hurry up before it gets cold!"

Groggily, Thom accepted the tray, careful not to spill any of the contents when the boy had shoved it into his hands. With the help from Gary, he managed to walk quickly and carefully towards the duke. Quietly, he hoed he would not trip over anything while serving the duke.

Gary laughed as Thom made his way back to his post. "You best keep your eyes open, fire top. The meal has only begun." And with that, he left, taking a tray from another page and moving towards the dining tables.