“Sir Arthur is on the horizon," I called from my treetop perch. “He and his Knights are riding this way with banners raised. Can I get down now?” I asked as I was beginning to feel sick from the height.
“Yes, you can come down now,” Brian shouted up from below.
“Brian, tell me again why I had to climb the tallest oak in Britain?” I asked after safely on soft green land.
“Well, my little brother, you were volunteered because you are the smallest boy in the village. Do you have any other stupid questions?”
“No, I just don't like climbing,” I said truthfully.
“Lucas, you will need to overcome your fears if you wish to be a great knight some day. We should go home, Mother will have supper going soon and she'll want you to help her peel and cut vegetables.” Brian was training to be a page so he didn't have to do any chores. I, on the other hand, am too young and too small to pick up a proper sword. When the village children play, they tease me and call me "worm" because they all have a light metal sword while I have a wooden one.
Dinner that night was excellent, pheasant with boiled potatoes and carrots. Mother and father talked excitedly throughout the meal about Sir Arthur and his Knights arriving at our village. I had heard stories about Arthur but thought them all false; no one man could be as amazing as the tales proclaimed. I am only twelve but I have never seen any person do what tales say can be done.
The next day there was word that the Knights would host a tournament for two boys to start training as their newest pages. Many boys ran to the blacksmith to have armor and swords made or bettered; Brian was out before dawn. I didn't even give it a thought. There was no possible way I could ever become a knight; I would live out my life as a farmer or smith.
I even worked some days with Hadrian, the smith; Hadrian’s Roman father married a local woman but his father died shortly after Hadrian's birth. Though he has never seen Rome, Hadrian still acts as if he were a prominent Roman citizen, who could return any moment to his homeland. He is a good teacher and I have learned a great deal in only a few weeks of apprenticing.
“Aren't you going to help Hadrian make all that armor he has on order?” came a cheery voice from behind me as I worked the field. It was Samantha, a girl my age who is sweet on me.
“No, I don't want anything to do with that contest.” I said decidedly.
“You wouldn't do it just to help Hadrian with all that work? He'll have to labor for at least two days and nights to make everything.” Sam was cute, her dirty knees kneeling on the ground, as she began to help me remove weeds.
“Did he send you or are you here purely to pester me?” I asked, cutting to the point of her visit.
“Some part of both, I feel bad for Hadrian and you are the only one that could help him. You know, if I could, I would help, but I don't know metal work.” Sam was the strongest, toughest girl in Warden, if not all of Britain, and one day she will be my bride.
She smiled beautifully up at me and flashed her eyes; she was trying to win over my will. “So, am I meant to give in to your resolve?”
She replied with an innocent, “Yes.”
“Fine, I give in, only with the condition that you weed the rest of this field.” I would face more trouble from my father if I didn't finish my chores.
“I'll do it, just for you, Lucas. Now run, get out of here! Go help Hadrian.” Sam partially kicked me off my own land and pushed me on my way down the path to the village square.
Brutus Marius, Lord of Warden Manor, was giving a speech from behind a fancy podium when I walked into the village square. Crowds had gathered and I had to push through many to get to the smith workshop. Hadrian was working the fires and cooling iron at the same time, a dangerous spread of attention that could result in a number of accidents.
I didn't want to distract him, so I grabbed a hammer and began to pound out some raw metal.
“Young Lucas, I did not hear you come in. You are one of the quietest boys I’ve ever met.” I was unsure if that was a compliment or not so I just nodded my head. “Could you give those swords a few swings outside while I finish this helmet?”
“Yes, sir,” I said as I grabbed about five rough swords and tucked them under my arm.
“Make sure each of them feels right,” he said, “You know how it should move, right?”
“Yes, Hadrian,” I lied. I'd been meaning to get sword training but I didn't have the nerve to ask even Brian; I didn't want to get laughed at as I tried to swing a heavy metal sword.
I lugged the swords out through the back of the shop. I wasn't going to make a fool of myself out in front of that large crowd listening to Lord Brutus Marius. Once outside, I dropped the weapons on the packed dirt ground and looked at the mess of metal.
Why couldn't the contest test archery, not swordsmanship? I had Brian teach me how to fire a bow when I was ten and I've been improving ever since. If a mad Northern tribe ever invaded the village I could fight forever with a bow and arrows but if my fate lied in a sword, I would be doomed.
Using all my strength, I brought the sword from the ground to my waist. I huffed and breathed heavily as I lifted the weapon above my head and held a fighting stance.
I was swinging mindlessly when I heard footsteps approaching. After the steps stopped, a powerful voice said, “You should try holding the sword handle with two hands if it is too heavy for you.”
I whirled around, and then dropped the sword when I saw the man behind me. He was dressed in leather and chain-mail, with the Roman symbols on his chest and sheathed weapons.
To show courtesy, I bowed my head, as my mother had taught me, to the knight, “Sir Galahad.”
Sir Galahad was the youngest of Arthur’s Knights, fresh-faced and lacking wounds and scars. He stood strongly, almost two full heads taller than me. He pulled my head up gently, “No reason to bow to me, boy. You cannot be more than six years younger then me.”
“I’m twelve years of age, Sir Galahad,” I replied.
“Why aren’t you with the other village boys, hacking and swings with old swords in the fields?”
“I’m not a swordfighter, Sir. I am too small to swing a metal sword.” I stood looking up at the mighty Knight with wide eyes.
“I thought it was you I saw in the moonlight, firing a bow with ease.” I hadn’t known that someone had seen me during my nightly archery practice sessions out in the field.
Still surprised, I replied, “Oh, yes sir that was me.”
“Yes, you are very good. I believe you hit your target both on foot and on horseback. You should enter the contest as an archer, you would surely win. What is your name, young archer?”
I was thrown by his words; he had called me an archer, not a foolish boy with a bow. “My name… Oh, my name is Lucas, Lucas of Warden.” I fought the urge to bow again.
“Well, Lucas of Warden, don’t let your size stop you from what you want to become. I, too, was a young and skinny boy with the hopes of being a great knight one day. I was determined and I caught the eye of a knight, Arthur. Since then, I have never been doubted as a knight.” He kneeled down to meet my eyes and put his hand on my shoulder. “You are a great archer. All you need is training and a determined mind and you will become a remarkable knight, too. I can see it in your eyes; you have the power of the ages with you. You will be a great man some day and I would be proud to ride with you and call you brother.”
He got up and walked away without another word. He turned the corner and was gone.
I sat on the ground, wondering if I had fallen asleep and dreamed about Galahad or if it had really happened. Either way, I discovered a new feeling stirring in me. I could feel it reach my heart and my head.
I picked up the swords and practiced an hour with each one. I hit many trees and the back of the shop, but I didn’t give up. When I was done, I had sweat rolling down my face and into my eyes. I wiped my face and went back inside as the light began to diminish.
“Were you out there the whole time, Lucas?” Hadrian asked when I tiredly dragged the swords back in.
“Yes, sir, every sword is perfect and ready for battle. Can I go home now?”
“Yes, of course, my boy. Sleep well, Lucas.”
I walked home quickly with renewed energy. I ate heartily, cleaning my plate twice as did my brother.
“Why, you two have healthy appetites tonight!” my mother proclaimed.
“I’m entering the contest tomorrow; I'll need my strength.” I said, thinking my family would laugh in my face.
My brother was the first to say anything, “Those younger boys do need some good competition.”
“Really, you don’t mind, Brian?” I asked, surprised by his response.
“Yes, you won’t be in my group and any boys your age are not as well trained at archery. If I may be honest, you had a great teacher,” he flashed a witty smile.
My parents smiled proudly as there two sons filled up for the next day’s competition. I didn’t tell them about my encounter with Sir Galahad.
The next morning could not come soon enough. I rose with the sun and dressed in Brian’s old leather armor. “You’re lucky it’s too small for me,” Brian had said when he tossed the clothes to me.
I tried to save as much of my energy for the contest but my stomach was twisting with excitement.

++++

The sun was high above our heads as Brian, Sam and I walked to the village square. Sam was coming along to support and cheer on the two of us. The square was packed with people and several boys were preparing for the contest. My stomach twisted even more as I looked at all of them. They were all muscle and iron, with terrifying looks on their faces. I was a speck compared to them; even Brian, who I thought was pretty fit, was smaller than most of the others. We were both doomed.
There was a sudden hush as two men addressed the people from above; both very commanding, Sir Arthur and Lord Brutus Marius Warden looked down on the mass of villagers.
Lord Warden was the first to break the silence. “Greetings, my people; today we have gathered to honor our guests with a tournament for page-hood. A winner from both age groups will accompany Sir Arthur and his Knights to their home, Camelot.”
Arthur then spoke, “The two groups, age ten to thirteen and age fourteen to seventeen, will compete in three events: swordsmanship, archery, and riding. Any tie will result in a combat fight. The older will start with swordsmanship and the younger will attempt to ride my Knights' stallions. Now, enough talk, let the competition begin!”
A Knight led my group to the riding area. I looked at the boys around me. They all had fancier armor than I had on; theirs were shiny and new, mine was old and worn.
But appearance did not dictate their abilities as riders. I lasted the longest on the wild horses, far longer than anyone in my group. A few boys were even injured and had to be taken out of the tournament. I could hardly watch as one boy, Jonathan, was carried away as one of his bones stuck out through the skin on his leg.
After the riding was all over, we reconvened in the square. Once there, Sir Arthur spoke again, “I can see that some boys are already out with the end the first round. In the lead, young Lucas of Warden and the older, Thomas of Hexham, now comes the next test. The younger boys will continue to archery and the older will go to riding.”
I did as was said and followed the other boys and another Knight to an old, deserted field one hundred and fifty yards north of Warden. Set up at the far end was a line of targets for shooting. We all pulled our bows off our backs and loaded them.
We all did well, but I was nervous and missed a few easy shots. Again, we returned to the square, all of us were tired and there was still one more round to go. The older boys were already in the square with only half the number that had left; the ones remaining looked as worn as I felt.
“Again, we have had a great show of talent.” Sir Arthur stood in front of the exhausted crowd with a smiling face, as if he enjoyed all he surveyed. “The leaders have shifted, now, in the lead for the younger boys, Owen from Hexham, and for the older boys, Kay of Kent. The last round has come, so give it your all, boys; swordsmanship for the younger and older to the archery field.”
The Knight that led us now was the great Lancelot, a master swordsman with a boyish smile. The boys around me were all on their last strings of energy as was I. I would guess that most of them, at this point, didn’t even care if they won. I felt the same until I thought back to my talk with Sir Galahad; the memory stirred in me a fire I didn’t know existed. I was going to try my best to fight boys that would probably beat me.
Each boy was armed with a very light sword as not to hurt each other. We all were assigned a fighting partner, paired with a boy about our own size and. My partner looked gruesome, a thick boy from another village. He came at me when Lancelot raised his sword. I defended myself as best I could but he still gave me a small cut on my cheek. With that, I fought back with an inhuman fury. I lunged and dodged and fought with a renewed strength.
I had him pinned to the ground with my sword at his throat and gave him a cut on his right cheek. Sir Lancelot came over and declared me the winner.
I was paired once more and again I fought with a mad energy that flowed from my toes to my head. My ears pounded with the beat of my own heart as I pinned the boy to the ground.
They allowed me to rest for a short while as the other boys finished sparing. Then I was paired with the strongest boy in my age group. He had more muscle than even Lancelot as he pulled his sword from its leather sheath. With all my raging, I feared facing this boy, for he seemed to have the same zeal as I did. He had fire in his eyes as his sword touched mine.
Then Lancelot called, “Begin!”
Before the word was finished, the boy came at me with his sword flying. I defended myself from almost every blow but missed one as it hit my leg. I walked back, drawing my mind away from the wound, and raised my sword to attack. I fought back with speed, as I was smaller, and hit him a few times on his stomach armor. He looked offended at this and, looking me in the eye, pushed me back. I began to fall to the ground and landed hard. He went to pin me when I whirled on my side and missed a potentially deadly blow.
I hopped back to my feet, ignoring the pain, and drove him back with an onslaught of hits. Sweat poured from my hair and momentarily blinded me, but I kept fighting. I could tell, with all his energy, the boy was becoming tired. He moved ever slower as I weaved and landed a blow on his back. I hit him again from behind and he lost his breath. He fell to his knees and gasped for air. As a sign of surrender and defeat, he held up his hand.
Lancelot walked over and caught my body as I, too, fell from exhaustion. He splashed some muddy water onto my face as I lay on the ground. Sitting up, with his help, I began to come to. His voice was distant as he said, “I think, boy, you are the winner.”

++++

The next day, I stood in front of the crowd that had gathered again to hear the results. I had slept past dawn because I had been so tired and in pain. I looked at all the boys that stood beside me and wondered if I had beaten them; and what about Brian, he hadn't said a word when he walked home with me the night before. He stood at the far end of the village square, looking worn but excited, much like me.
Between the two groups of boys stood all of Arthur’s Knights, all in full armor that shined in the morning sun. It was quite a sight.
Lord Brutus Marius stood in front of everyone, ready to announce the two winners of the tournament. All the boys began to twitch with anxiety as he spoke to the crowd. “Greetings again, my good people; we have gathered again to declare two boys as pages. They all fought strongly and bravely, showing much courage for ones of such young age. I am proud of you, boys,” he said as he turned a hand towards us. Then he went back to his people, “But only two will be honored by accompanying Sir Arthur’s knights. Sir Arthur, himself, will announce his new pages.”
The Lord made way for Sir Arthur without leaving his position of authority. Arthur was smiling as he addressed his audience. “Your humble village and many others have brought us young men with all the sand of future knights. But only two boys stood against our trials and triumphed over the others. I am proud to say that both boys are the best I have seen since young Galahad was still a puny boy. But enough of my babblings, these are the boys who will defend your land and live in the glory of knighthood. The older boy, tough and unrelenting, Kay of Kent; and the younger, though he is small for his age, he is the best archer my Knights have seen in a long time. The second page will be Lucas of Warden.”
I had thought, perchance, he had been speaking of me, but the idea of being a page was only a dream, something I had fought for in those last moments of the contest. I had done it; I had taken Sir Galahad’s words and used them to make a distant dream come true. I was on the path to becoming a knight.

++++

It took three days for me to pack and say all my goodbyes. Leaving what I had known all my life was something I had never thought I could do, but I would have to. My mother hugged me for the longest time and my father began to cry. Brian said he could still beat me and I didn’t doubt him; I told him he would join me one day because he would be a far greater knight than I.
Sam hugged me the same as my mother and gave me a kiss. “You will return, and when you do, I will be waiting for you to take me as your bride.” I returned her kiss and promised I would return to her.
Hadrian gave me his best suit of armor and a knightly sword. “You will grow into it. I was saving the armor for the winner, so I tried my best to fit it to your figure.” I thanked him for the gifts and for all he had taught me.
On the third day, with everyone from Warden saying their goodbyes, the pages, Kay—the other tournament winner—and I departed on horseback. I let one tear fall from my face and then looked forward, into my future, as we rode off under the noontime sun.

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 18.08.2010

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