On this particular day it was really cold in the small chapel and Guy, without having to give it much thought, could imagine better times to spend an entire night in here, though he had found himself in far worse places in recent years. On the other hand, he could at least be fairly confident that he would not have to worry about any attack in the chapel and he considered this to be quite an advantage.
Even though it was an odd sensation not to have to pay attention to every noise, every movement, for he had seldom found himself in such a kind of peaceful situation in the last years. He had almost forgotten what it was like not to have to expect someone getting into the building and threatening his life.
He was aware that he was supposed to spend the hours in here in contemplation, on his knees in front of the altar, but this was something he found very difficult to commit himself to. Though it was not impossible for him to reflect on the past, it was a horror for him not to be allowed to move around for some hours – with the exception of the time when he was sleeping. Perhaps he could have endured something like this in the summer, but now, on the first day of spring, it was simply too cold for that. If he were to actually adhere to what was expected of him, he would freeze to death before the ceremony could be performed. And he would truly consider that a tragedy after he had managed to make it this far.
The moment the squire realized in which manner he had expressed himself - even if only in his mind - he snorted in amusement. These were words Sir Geoffrey would have chosen, and there were hardly two men less similar to each other than himself and his knight. But now he had found himself using the other's choice of words. It would surely please Sir Geoffrey, if he were to know this, for he had always been of the opinion Guy should learn to express himself in a better way. But as soon as the young man opened his mouth, it was as if the appropriate words avoided him like the plague, even if he had just formulated the respective sentences in his mind. That had not changed much during the entire time in the company of his knight.
In other respects, however, a lot had changed and therein lay the reason why he had to spend this night here in the chapel and why he was supposed to contemplate about his life up until that very moment. But he was also to reflect on what his life would be like once this day had come to an end. It was this that Sir Geoffrey had assigned him for consideration, and at that moment Guy had realized that the older man was really of the opinion that he was ready to take this step, and that it was not the case that he had brought him here merely due to the fact that he was now of the right age. For a long time, he had not been certain, for the path he had had to walk had never been an easy one, and therefore it was only now that he had finally reached this point. He had known other ones who had gone faster and had in the process overtaken him, but he was well aware that for some of them this was due to their family connections. As he possessed none of these, he was forced to do without that. If it had been up to his father - father! - he would on the contrary never have been given this chance, for the man was of the opinion that he was not worthy of something like that. Fortunately, this had not been a decision to be made by the husband of his mother.
What would transpire this day was what he had dreamed of as a child. This was what he had hoped for when he had to leave home as a seven-year-old. Back then he had been afraid for he had never left his home before, while at the same time he was glad for finally getting away from the man who had made his life a living hell. He was firmly convinced that everything had to get better at that point, but he had been wrong in this respect. It had not gotten better, it had just been different. That had only changed after Sir Geoffrey had accepted him as his squire. That was the time when he had regained hope and had again believed that his childhood dream could actually come true. And now he was only a few hours away for this to become real. At last he had achieved this, prevailing against all odds. If his life had taught him anything, it was to never give up.
As a child, he had assumed that his life would change for the better once he had reached this point. These days he only hoped this could be true, even though he had escaped the hell of his childhood home and had also survived the madness of the Normandy battlefields, while many of his comrades had been less fortunate than he. This still struck him as more than odd, as he had never regarded himself as someone who was lucky. But obviously he had to admit he had been mistaken in this respect.
Perhaps he could really hope fortune would continue to smile on him in the future and not abandon him when he would return across the Channel to England, even though he did not yet know what was waiting for him over there. In recent years he had not really given it much thought, and it was also not a subject that Sir Geoffrey had broached, for the man was not independent in his own decisions. As a vassal of the Earl of Gloucester, he was bound by his orders. It was possible that this would be his own way as well, and there could truly be worse. After all, he had gained plenty of experience during his time in Normandy. Many of those he had fought alongside had testified that he was an excellent soldier and swordsman, and an outstanding rider. This had to be worth something.
He snorted once again in amusement as he suddenly recalled how he had, as a child, imagined his future life to be. Apart from wanting to escape what he had to endure in his home, of course, he had always aspired to be a knight. He had aimed to stand up for the weak and the helpless since that was what he had been taught to do. Needless to say, he had never expressed his wishes aloud, for Sir Edmund had made it abundantly clear to him that someone like him could never make it that far. He had always reproached him for lacking the prerequisite of a noble parentage, since no one actually knew who his father had been. Moreover, the man in whose house he had grown up had always insinuated that he was a coward.
This was the accusation he could absolutely not stand. Nobody knew that he was a bastard, with the exception of himself, his mother and her husband, but that an opponent might be a coward had been uttered more than once in the heat of a fight - even during a quarrel among comrades - and had sent him - if he was the object of the remark - more than once into a fit of uncontrollable rage. This conduct had landed him then in trouble of a different kind. But at least his comrades had quickly learned not to call him a coward. Whereas he was able to endure everything else he had gotten to hear.
He had been forced to learn pretty fast that the life of a knight was not as he had pictured it as a child. In his time as squire to Sir Geoffrey, he had rarely seen him help the defenseless, even though there was always so much talk about it. This was all the more disappointing since his knight was definitely one who had the aptitude for doing good. It was just that he rarely got the chance to do so since he spent most of his time fighting for the King. Or for the Earl, which was not always the same and occasionally required not putting too much thought into what one was actually doing. This was just one of the things Guy had been taught by his knight very early on. It had taken him longer to get rid of his annoyance about his future life seldom being one of all glory and splendor, as he had dreamed as a child. If he was lucky - should he really count on that? - then he would at least be able to choose for himself which of the unpalatable paths the future seemed to held in store for him he should take. Yet he also could not be sure in this regard.
When he realized that he was freezing he came back from his pondering to the here and now. From his experience he knew that these hours were the coldest of the night, but also that it could not be too long until dawn and thus the end of his vigil. Afterwards, he would not have to wait much longer before he was allowed to call himself Sir Guy, and even though he was by now aware that this would not make his life better from one moment to the next, he had at least reached a goal of which he had never been sure he could achieve it.
Having said that, he had now reached a point where the sense of anticipation about what was to happen next could no longer push back the fatigue, the cold and the hunger. He wondered actually about this, for he refused calling these few hours fasting - although it was considered to be something like this - and moreover he had during sieges endured for longer periods without food, nevertheless his pangs of hunger plagued him now more than he would have imagined beforehand. The same was true about his fatigue, for this was by no means the first night he had had to spend without any sleep. And even the cold was actually nothing new to him. He wondered if it could be the combination of these various effects that was getting to him, only to dismiss the notion immediately after, as he had already to endure that as well. What then was really bothering him so much?
It took him quite a long time to figure this out, mainly as he has not wanted to admit to himself that it was his stepfather's words that still haunted him. The man had called him a worthless bastard, good for nothing, someone who would amount to naught. It was this against he what he had been struggling for years, and every time he had believed to be finally victorious, he had to realize that he was wrong. No matter what he did, he just could not get rid of what Sir Edmund had handed down to him, back when the latter had been obliged to let him leave for Gloucester.
Guy was forced to acknowledge now that these words had again cast a shadow over a day that was supposed to be the greatest of his life. Yet again his tormentor had succeeded in hurting him, even though he was not here in person. Would he ever be able to get rid of the man?
Despite preferring to move around, Guy dropped now to his knees in front of the altar, trying to ignore the cold that immediately seeped from the floor into his body. He closed his eyes and set about praying. He hoped that in this manner he would be able to push back the uncertainty and the fear that remembering Sir Edmund's words had evoked in him, and he longed to get rid of this sense of worthlessness and failure that had taken possession of him. He wanted so much to believe that he was deserving of being knighted and that he would prove himself worthy of it as soon as he was a knight.
But a faint voice in his mind kept repeating that he was a worthless bastard, and he just could not silence it, no matter how fervently he prayed. At last, he realized that he had no choice but to do the same he had been doing over the course of all these years.
He had no choice as to pretend that he was no different from his comrades and he could only hope no one would see through his lie.