Thread: Squire's Secret (Benny and Gunner)

It was too late now to make a petition. The moment had passed and Lady Auriane was already turning towards her Count. What privilege or honour had allowed Theodore to be born into such wealth, Friderick could not guess. It seemed an abysmal curse laid upon him to be born between poverty and riches, unable to marry beneath his station to a hard working peasant woman but equally unable to acquire a noble bride on just his title and birthright alone. Lady Auriane was his fancy, so regal and beautiful, and he burned with jealously when Count Theodore got to brush some of her silk hair aside. His own hands clenched into fists at his side. He didnt even correct Lady Auriane when she fumbled his name again. He watched them go, swearing to himself in his heart of an oath that he would have his riches one day, if thats what it took to win someones heart. Merit and virtue be damned. He needed his strength and any and every advantage he could garner. The Baron remained standing in the street, a hand clenched his sword hilt tightly, while the other was balled into a fist at his side. He had a look of forlorn hope on his face, like a man about to confront a death that was unavoidable. But was such a mentality a curse? He felt a clarity of mind like no longer, focused on a single objective, with his mind conjuring ways and methods of how to acquire it. There was no other concern or even a fear. He must have it or die in the attempt. And such fates were not unusual in a joust. Defeat or a moderate victory would not do. Friderick had to win now. Then there was his squire, Jacques Lancaster. Lucky boy, to be born into such wealth and power. Friderick could imagine how it would be for him. Jacques would probably even have a bride-choosing ceremony from prospective matches even, to have them paraded before him like some King of old. He asked if Friderick was well. Friderick shot him a look. Why would I be unwell? Jacques wanted to get a drink, promising not to speak to a barmaid. Then he asked about Auriane and began bumbling about other options. Compelled by his charms, that was laudable. No one cared about that. It was wealth, lands, and alliances, that was the only thing people were charmed by. Something about Jacques voice though feltsoothing. That was weird. No man should have a voice like that. When was his balls going to drop? I told you before that there are some women deserving of respect and admiration and others who are not. The Lady Auriane is beautiful to me. But follow your own wisdom in this. Courting is beyond you. Dont ask questions about it. You arent here to court anyone. Your time will come for that. Just learn to obey and follow orders, until it is your time to lead one day and know what you ask of your subordinates, as youve done it yourself. Forget this. Friderick said to Jacques, diverting the topic completely. He wasnt going to talk to Jacques about his feelings on this. And neither was he going to be speaking into his cups, intoxicated with wine. Now wasnt the time for rest and relaxation. They were here for a tournament. They ought to get ready with that. Forget the drink. Were going to go train and prepare. And just like that, without visiting the castle or anything else, Friderick turned them around and marched back to their camp. Most others were gone themselves, to have their own drink or explore or rest a while. But not Friderick. He went back to their tents, seized a lance, shield, and training swords, and handed them to Jacques while he saddled his horse. He pointed to an empty field near the encampment. Go down fifty paces and hold the shield up. He instructed the boy. The idea could be guessed. Jacques was going to be target practice. Hold the shield up, so that Friderick could condition and practice wielding the lance at full gallop and striking the shield, and its holder, down. Like he also said before, it would be like facing down an onrushing force three or four times greater than oneself. Friderick mounted Wingfoot and watched. Jacques was a good lad. One day he would be in the position of command and many others would be stooping and bowing to do his bidding. Better he learn humility now and understand what squires and servants went through when it was his time to rule. He would not be so cruel or harsh then, like some Lords. If he could instill in the boy a little kindness for his fellow man, Friderick would consider his duty as mentor complete. Of course, the boy still had to learn to fight and hold his own. He needed to learn how to take a hit. So without waiting for Jacques to transverse the full fifty paces, Friderick gave a shout and began to gallop towards Jacques. The horse sped up to its maximum speed, while Friderick balanced the shaft of the lance under a shoulder, against his side, leveling it right towards Jacques. Either turn and hold up the shield and get knocked on your assor duck and dive aside into the grass and mud. Or get hit and skewered and killed. Perhaps Friderick was a little mad and resentful from his rejection but there was no greater forge for a warrior and leader than tough love. Learn to survive, squire.