23 Learning
Balan rested his back against the battlements and closed his eyes against the sun. He had slept well into the afternoon. A few minutes ago he had joined Galahad who was keeping Pelleas company during his watch duty on the wall.
"Tristan did what!?" Pelleas bristled.
Balan lifted his tunic. Galahad and Pelleas fumed when they saw the bruises on Balan's stomach.
"One day I will knock some sense into that scout!" Pelleas hissed.
Bedivere, the oldest of the knights who stood guard with Pelleas, chuckled. Though he preferred the company of the older knights during his watch, he was amused by the conversation of the boys.
"Tristan did the right thing, boys. Balan shouldn't have put himself in danger," he admonished.
"It happened during practice!" Pelleas scoffed. "He was never in danger! He was just tired!"
"Exactly!" Bedivere replied. "What do you think will happen if an exhausted boy attacks an experienced warrior in battle?"
He looked at Pelleas pointedly.
Pelleas rolled his eyes.
"Balan might be eleven, but he is not stupid!" Galahad defended his younger friend. "Balan would never have been so reckless in a real battle. He knew that he was only sparring."
Bedivere sighed, realizing that he would have to explain. He scanned the fields outside the wall for any suspicious movement, but nothing stirred. He indicated that Pelleas had to keep a lookout. Then he knelt in front of Galahad and Balan.
"Listen, boys. Why do you think we are training you so hard, day after day? Why do you think we keep nagging at you and keep pushing you, demanding perfection, until you are able to do all your moves without thinking?"
Bedivere gave them a questioning look.
The boys did not reply. They waited for Bedivere to continue.
"Galahad, you haven't been in battle yet. One day you will be though, and you will find that there is no time to think! There is no room for mistakes. For even the tiniest mistake will instantly cost you your life."
A hint of fear appeared in Galahad's eyes, but the fifteen-year-old determinedly bit his lip.
Bedivere's face softened a little.
"Everything you learn in the practice yard will come to you automatically once you are on the battlefield. You will find that you perform every move and defence exactly as you have learned it here. Your body will remember, and so will your mind.
"Now imagine yourself in battle. And with every move you make you have to ask yourself: Is this a move that I can use on the battlefield? Or can it only be used in the safety of the practice yard?"
He looked at the boys sternly and shot a pointed glare to Pelleas.
"Even if you knew the answer within a second, it would still be a distraction. To determine whether or not you can use a certain move, you have to take your focus off your enemy."
Balan, Galahad and Pelleas listened attentively.
"Remember this boys: You can never afford to take your focus off your enemy! You can never afford to take your focus off your fight!"
The three boys nodded.
"One second of distraction is enough for your enemy to surprise you and get through your defences."
Bedivere grabbed Pelleas by the shoulders and turned him around to make him look out over the fields again.
"This is why you never do anything in the practice yard that you would not do out on the battlefield, especially when simulating a real battle."
The three boys remained silent. His words were sinking into their minds, doing their work.
Satisfied, Bedivere returned to his watch. He expected Gawain, Gaheris and Tristan to find their young charges much more compliant during practice from now on.
Balan quietly mulled over Bedivere's words while Pelleas and Galahad bickered about ale. Suddenly a familiar laugh drifted up to his high seat on top of the wall. Balan jumped to his feet, waved goodbye to Galahad, Pelleas and Bedivere and rushed down the stone steps to greet Vanora.
"Look who we have 'ere! Aren't ye training today?" Vanora smiled, patting Balan's cheeks.
"Tristan gave me the afternoon off," Balan replied happily.
"Got some time to help me then?" Vanora asked. "I can teach you how to bake honey bread if you want."
Balan's eyes widened. He loved honey bread!
"The hunters brought pheasants, swans and pigeons from the forest. They need to be plucked for dinner. It's a lotta work, but I can teach ye how it's done," Vanora continued.
Balan nodded eagerly.
Vanora smiled and pushed her baskets into Balan's arms.
"Carry these for me. I still need to get eggs."
Several hours later Balan's stomach could barely withstand the delicious scent of the soup he was stirring.
Vanora pushed him aside and pulled the cauldron away from the fire.
"If it boils this strongly, it will burn. Just swing the cauldron to the side, then it'll be less hot."
She put a piece of dark bread and a spoon on the table and filled a bowl with steaming soup.
"See?" she pointed out. "Now that we've added a few eggs to the brew, the soup is thicker and no longer so watery. This way it will fill more hungry stomachs!"
She took the ladle from Balan's hand and sat him down at the table.
"Eat, lad! You deserve it."
Balan tucked in hungrily.
"Delicious!" he smiled after several spoonfuls.
Vanora laid the back of her hand against his cheek, and proceeded to put more bowls on the table.
The backdoor opened with a bang and Vanora's four eldest kids ran into the kitchen, followed by their nurse, who carried baby Gilly on her hip. "Balan!" number Two squealed. The four-year-old little red-head immediately positioned herself on Balan's lap, glaring at her siblings as if to say: "Mine!"
Her little brother, a sturdy three-year-old, blatantly grabbed the piece of bread from Balan's plate. His two-year-old sister tried to take it from him, but he snatched it from her hand and pushed her aside. Ear-splitting screaming ensued. The little siren stomped on the floor and her face turned beet red with fury. With an ominous glare at her brother, she reached up to yank Balan's soup from the table.
"Four!" Vanora yelled at her daughter. She took baby Gilly from the nurse's arms and the elderly woman left in a hurry.
Balan had managed to save his soup just in time, but while holding his bowl away from Four, he was unable to prevent One from running away with his spoon. Four was screaming even louder now, kicking his legs and tugging at his sleeve to reach his bowl. Meanwhile Two grasped his face with both her hands and pulled at his ear, trying hard to make him listen to the story she was telling him.
Vanora pulled a loudly protesting Two from Balan's lap and pushed the baby in his arms.
"Hold 'im, I need to feed the bairns."
She started filling the bowls while Two, Gilly and Four filled the kitchen with their deafening screams. They were soon joined by their brothers, who earned a whack on their fingers for setting fire to Balan's spoon.
"'Ow many times must I tell ye not to play with fire!" Vanora snapped at her sons.
Moments later peace had returned to the kitchen. The four numbers were eating and Gilly was happily suckling his mother's breast.
Vanora fondly looked at Balan. The boy was feeding number Four while trying to answer a flood of questions from Two.
"Do ye have siblings at home?" Vanora smiled.
Balan shook his head.
"I had a brother. But he didn't live very long. After I was born, my mother could not get with child again."
Vanora tore off a piece of bread and put it in number Three's mouth.
"She often said that it was probably better this way," Balan recalled. "With so many patients to care for, she had plenty of children already, she said."
"Yer mother is a healer, then!" Vanora exclaimed.
Balan smiled proudly.
"She knows more herbs than anyone else! Even enemy tribes ask for her help sometimes. My father says that her healing skills led to a peace treaty once."
Vanora smiled knowingly. Sarmatians were fabulous negotiators by nature, they possessed outstanding political skills. One should almost wonder why they rode out to battle as much as they did!
They probably just loved the battlefield, she assumed. And they were way too stubborn and hot-headed for their own good!
"What are ye doing tonight?" she asked Balan. "The nurse could use some help getting the bairns in bed, for I'll be working."
Two pushed Balan's bowl aside and climbed into his lap. She glared at him expectantly, her eyes commanding Balan to say he'd come.
"Tristan won't allow it," Balan laughed, gladly placing the blame on the scout. "I have to train in the tavern tonight!"
"Ye gonna fight in the tavern?!" Two asked in amazement.
Three dropped his empty bowl to the ground, waking Gilly who had fallen asleep. In the loud cacophony of screams and yells that ensued, Balan cupped his hands around number Two's ear and said: "No, I have to become a scout!"
The little girl's eyes widened. She pulled his head down and cupped her hands around Balan's ear to reply.
But then the door burst open and Bors stomped into the kitchen, filling the room with his presence. Four whirlwinds instantly jumped on their father. And Dagonet, who had entered behind Bors, smiled broadly and covered his ears.