Thom woke up feeling groggy. He had been too excited the night before to sleep, and now that was taking its toll on him. No time to worry about such trivialities though, he would just swing by the apothecary and pick up some springthyme and be on his way.
He ate a quick breakfast of dried goat meat and a glass of goat milk. While he didn’t mind eating goat all the time, he was looking forward to not having to eat it daily. He pulled on his clothes and boots and ran to the apothecary before going to the castle. He didn’t want to be late.
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Just before entering the main gate of Riverrun Castle, Thom gave his springthyme a quick chew and then let it sit in his cheek. He learned last time to not swallow it right away, else he’d be calling on the gods all night from the outhouse. It only took a minute and suddenly he felt refreshed, as if waking from a pleasant nap. The feeling would last several hours. Hopefully he would be done with his trials by then. If not, he could swallow the herbs, but there’d be pain later.
He made his way to the stables and fed his horse, Jenkins. It wasn’t really his horse, they belonged to the king, but squires were permitted to train with and ride a horse that was not in active service. The horses were not broken when they started, and it was his first trial. Thom had been working with this horse for two years now. Once fresh hay was in the feed box, Thom scratched Jenkins behind the ears and rubbed down his back and legs.
When he was done, Thom was quite in need of a bath and a nap. No time though. He gave the springthyme a small bite and extracted a little more juice. His eyes popped open and he shook his head spastically. Time to get his gear on for the foot combat trial. He walked toward the quartermaster’s shack as calmly as he could.
Stark the quartermaster was a stern old man. He had been a squire in his youth, passed all of his trials, and become a full knight. For many years he served his kingdom faithfully and had his share of excitement on the fields of battle. But it was not to last.
While riding back from a mission to retrieve the taxes from the city of Must, his party was ambushed by a troop of goblins, and his horse was struck with poisoned darts. Goblins were too small to successfully fight from horseback and so Stark had dismounted, thinking the battle was winnable. It might have been, had two of his accompanying squires not fled. To his credit, he successfully felled four goblins and wounded at least two more. Unfortunately, the strong box was their target and six of the bastards ran off with the gold. Stark tried to give chase, but the poison coursed through his steed’s blood too quickly and both fell to the ground two miles away. When Stark finally managed to right himself, he found his trusted steed frothing at the mouth and unable to stand. He thanked her for her service and then slit her throat. He made his way back to the site of the battle and collected the goblins’ ears. It was a long trek back to the castle and he had bad news to provide. The ears proved his battle, and a cart was sent for his horse. He was given the choice to step down as a knight permanently or to fight for his redemption in the coliseum. He chose to step down and was allowed to become quartermaster, which he had been for close to fifteen years now. Many days he wished he had chosen the coliseum. He likely would have been killed, but he would have died a warrior. Better than this survival as a glorified shopkeeper.
“Good morning, Stark,” Thom said to the older man. The quartermaster held no greater position than squire, as both were servants in their own ways.
“Good morning, boy,” Stark grumbled back. To be spoken to as an equal by someone so young was a constant reminder of his shame. “What do you want?”
“Today is my second trial. I will need-” Thom was cut off.
“Sword, shield, helmet, breastplate, gloves,” Stark rattled off as he turned to the armory to retrieve the necessary implements of mock battle. Real steel, but the blades were dull.
“...Yes, thank you, Stark,” Thom put emphasis on his name, driving at their equal station.
Stark noted the equipment in the ledger and then proceeded to ignore the younger man. Thom didn’t care anymore. Soon he would be this man’s superior and it would be his honor to forgive him for such rude behavior. That would really burn Stark’s heart.
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Thom still had some time before the trial would begin, so he headed back to spend more time with Jenkins. They had spent much time together in training. It would still be another year before his mounted combat trial, assuming he passed today. Still, they had made good progress.
“Hello again Jenkins, how do I look?” Thom asked, not expecting a reply.
He had donned, but not properly secured the breastplate earlier. Now he had the time to get better situated. He set everything down on a blanket and set to snugging his armor into place. It was fastened with leather cords, which Thom snugged tightly. He practiced moving around, and it kept in place. Next, he put on his helmet. The chin strap was not comfortable, so he left it undone for now. The gloves were rough leather with metal plates sewn into the back of the hand and lower forearm. Flexing his fingers, he decided they would do for today. He then put on the shield, slipping his arm behind one strap and grasping the other. This allowed for it to be worn on either hand, as well as on the back when retreat was necessary. Lastly he picked up the sword. It had a good weight, though it was not balanced specifically for his use. He had heard a proper balance would allow the swordsman to fight as if the sword were part of his own body.
He put the sword back down and walked to Jenkins’ side. It was important for him to be used to the change in sight in his rider. The added weight would be addressed on another day after the trial, but for now Thom wanted to conserve his energy.
“Jenkins, I want you to wish me luck. Today is very important. If I pass my foot combat trial, I will be that much closer to becoming a knight. Once that happens, you will also benefit. You will be a knight’s noble steed and will have a larger stable and be more comfortable. You will also be quite the stud with the mares for sure. They will be impressed by your bravery,” Thom spoke fondly of the future while stroking Jenkins’ neck. The speech was as much for his own benefit, to settle his nerves before the trial.
A bell sounded in the distance, signalling the squires to assemble in their courtyard.
“I’ll be back later with tales of my glory!” And with that, Thom fetched his sword and headed for the squires’ courtyard.
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