quest for a hero second chapter

'No, No Thomas you are my son. There's no way the son of a farmer could become a knight, even of one of the lesser orders.' Thomas' father shook his head, then stood for a moment holding his hoe in one hand and rubbing the small of his back with the other. He tilted his hat to keep the sun from his eyes and looked at the small patch of earth that he and Thomas had been working on all day.
As his father watched, Thomas attacked a scarecrow with a series of savage thrusts and slashing movements, which resulted in his stick being broken in one final desperate lunge.
'To be even considered for one of the orders you have to have a father who is a knight in that order. You also have to be able to afford a horse and armour that would cost more than all the farms in the village. No, you're a Pennyfeather and Pennyfeathers are farmers always have been, always will be.'
Thomas looked down and dragged his foot in the dust as his father went back to work. He knew his father was right. As farmers went he wasn't poor but even the poorest knight was much richer. Not only that but Samuel, his older brother, would inherit the farm anyway.
He dropped the broken stick and picked up his own hoe, 'I only asked,' he muttered under his breath.
*
That had been five years ago, Thomas thought and gritted his teeth as he stopped for a moment and heaved his pack into a slightly different position. The straps now dug into a new, and for the moment less painful place on his shoulders. It gave him a few seconds to catch his breath before he started running again. The moment he did however, the pack moved again and the straps dug into the same raw places. He could hear Tobias behind him, the stumbling feet and gasps of breath told him that Tobias was having as much trouble as he was. He prided himself that he always beat Tobias at this part of the training. Training was what Ironjaw, Sir Trascar's sergeant at arms, called it. Ironjaw wasn't his real name of course, just a nickname that had been used for so many years that no one could remember what his real name had been. Ironjaw had devised this particular form of torture to toughen up Sir Trascar's son Tobias and as Thomas ,his groom and his sword training partner, was about the same age and size he had to do it too. They had finished the circuit of the shallow moat and reached the starting point again so Thomas plunged into the moat. He gasped as icy water near frozen by early winter temperatures came up to his chest and instantly the packs, which were filled with sand to simulate the weight of a full set of armour, became even heavier. Thomas had pulled his sword free of its sheath and held it over head to keep the blade dry and save himself further hours of polishing that evening. He looked up and saw Ironjaw standing on the other side of the moat with a rope in his hand. This was in case one of the boys slipped at this point as the weight of the pack could drag him down and he could easily drown. Thomas clambered up the bank his breath coming in short gasps as the cold made it painful to breathe. He realised he was only yards ahead of Tobias, resheathing his sword he started to climb one of the ladders propped up against the outer wall of the manor house courtyard.
He noticed with grim satisfaction that even though his legs burned and shook with the effort he was pulling ahead of Tobias who lacked the pure strength which Thomas had developed through his hard physical work.
Thomas was soon over the wall and down into courtyard. He turned, coughing and gasping for breath, to face Tobias.
'Good, only half dead this time, you must be both improving,' Ironjaw's voice called from the gateway as he strode in to join them. 'Don't get your breath back let's see some fighting.'
The two boys circled each other, neither willing to attack until they had got a few deep lungfulls of air.
'Go on' Ironjaw urged.
Thomas leapt forward slashing wildly at Tobias, who easily blocked the attack and replied with a short jab nearly hitting him.
'Not so rash, Thomas. He nearly had you.'
The boys traded attacks and counters but as Tobias got his breath back, his superior skill began to show. Thomas blocked a stroke at his head and lunged back but Tobias expecting this knocked blade aside and hit him neatly in the chest. The blunt ended practice sword hurt him but did not draw blood.
'Good, good well done. You're improving too Thomas but Tobias had the edge all the time there.' Ironjaw turned to Tobias 'a good trap but you know Thomas too well, it might not work on someone else. Now get dried off we're going boar hunting. Thomas you'll need to get Tobias' horse ready. You and I will take bows and try to drive a boar out of the woods so that Tobias can kill it.' He turned to Tobias, 'you need the lance practice. Today will be your last chance and it will be getting dark in a few hours.'
'And Thomas' he continued. 'make sure you only wound it this time. I know you won the village archery contest. So you can wound not kill if you try.'
*
The following morning Thomas pulled the belly strap tight on the last packhorse and once more checked that the load was secured. He looked out through the single gateway and across the moat. When he came here with his father the first time the manor had seemed like a mighty castle, Thomas thought and smiled to himself. After they had, a very bad season Thomas' father had finally decided that the farm could not support the whole family. He had managed to marry off Thomas' sister, Ellen and decided Thomas should leave the farm. Because he was good with horses, his father had arranged for him to work as a groom at the manor.
Stonehouse Manor was the biggest building in the valley. The manor house was a large stone building, more of large walled enclosure really. A large wall as high as a house enclosed an area fifty paces across and in that area the hall and all the buildings of a farm huddled together using the outer wall for support. At one corner of the hall a large stone tower was the only remains of an older and more warlike structure. A few wooden out houses lay outside the wall. The whole area was enclosed by the shallow moat they had waded across yesterday, more useful for keeping fish in than enemies out.
He laughed to himself remembering how frightened he had been in those days. But things had turned out well. He had worked hard and learned to a good groom. Because he was much the same age as Tobias he had been
more of a friend than a servant. The Manor had become a new home to him. Now that he was going to leave the Manor and the valley, possibly forever, he realised tht he had mixed feelings about what the future would hold, .
'Come on stop daydreaming Thomas.' Tobias slapped him on the back, 'if we don't get ready to go soon you know my father will make us stay another night.'
Thomas looked up in surprise as he had not /noticed his friend approaching. It was clear Tobias had no such doubts. 'We get ready?' he said 'I haven't seen any we about it.'
'Now, Now Thomas you know I've been hard at work calming my mother down, and my father come to think of it.' Tobias leaned closer, 'the old boy becomes less the old warhorse and more the old woman every day. Are you sure this is well secured. I wouldn't want it to fall out you know.' He went to one of the horses and pulled a sword from its sheath, which was strapped to the animal's back and flourished it in the air.
'Yes it's tied down just as I was taught, it's just easy to get at in case we get attacked by mountain brigands on route. You won't lose that unless you turn the horse upside down.'
The two boys looked up as Sir Trascor came across the courtyard. He took Tobias by the elbow and led him away as if to talk privately.
'Now then my boy I shall say this to you while I have the chance without your mother here. You are a very fortunate young man to be allowed to go to the college and chapel of the order. "The Order of the White Star is not the largest or richest of the orders of chivalry, but it is in my humble opinion the best. And I speak as a former Marshall of the order. Our order has the highest standards of chivalry and purity. I know you will not let me down.' He placed his hand on Tobias head and ruffled his hair rather as one would a favourite dog.
'Now about this lad Thomas.' Sir Trascor raised a hand as if to ward of a protest. 'I know you're very fond of him, as we all are. In the town you will have to observe the proprieties, make him carry your things, walk behind you, open doors, that sort of thing.' He waved his hand in vague circular motion to indicate the generalities of things. 'Remember he is a servant not a friend.' He was waiting for Tobias to agree.
'Of course father,' Tobias said with apparent conviction but winked quickly to Thomas as his father turned away.
'Good, good, let's find your mother so that you can say your farewells and get on your way or it will be dark before you go. It ia a long journey to Florynt. And Tobias-'
'Yes father?'
'Don't call me an old woman.'
*
Thomas and Tobias both laughed loudly at the end of the story. Tobias always told a good story and although Thomas had heard the one about the bishop and the dancer before each time Tobias told it, it got better. Tobias moved a little ahead as they came to a ford where the track crossed what was little more than a small stream. He moved his horse into a trot keeping a tight hold on the rope which controlled Firespark, the charger he was leading behind him.
Thomas waited as Tobias crossed the stream. He was riding a third horse, something of an old nag, and leading a string of three packhorses. The first of these, a chestnut mare carried Tobias' armour and weapons. The second carried clothing and personal belongings. The third carried food and a small tent in case they had to sleep out over night. So far they had avoided sleeping out by staying at inns and taverns on the way. An hour or two before they had passed a small wayside inn, but that had seemed very small and dirty and they had decided to press on. Knowing there was an Abbey further on, which was famous for taking in travellers, they had increased their pace. Thomas looked around and saw how fast the light was fading, not surprising at this time of year but still quicker than they had expected. Not for the first time he regretted not having stopped earlier.
He moved his horse alongside Tobias, 'We should have stopped at that inn, I don't think we are going to reach the Abbey tonight. We'll have to make camp before the light goes completely.'
'Don't worry' Tobias looked around. 'I suppose you're right we had better make camp here, at least we're near running water.'
They dismounted and looked around to find somewhere to tether horses and to pitch the tent. Thomas went to find wood to start a fire. Most of the wood around the stream was too soft and green to burn easily. Thomas took his bow from the back of one of the ponies slipped it from its canvas bag and quickly looped on the bowstring then walked into the thicker shrub further up the small hill near to the stream. He was glad of the chance to stretch his legs and thought he might be able to shoot a rabbit or something to supplement their store of dried and salted meat. He notched an arrow on the bowstring and stood motionless down wind of the bushes leading down to the river in the hope that he would remain undetected.
His ears strained to hear the sound of anything moving in the small copse. He could hear Tobias moving around down by the river and grinned to himself. It was a good thing Tobias was going to be a knight, he was far too noisy to be a hunter or a scout. Then Thomas stopped breathing, he could here something else moving through the trees to his right, he turned, and to his left.
A wild boar perhaps, or two, at least. He moved slowly with the noises keeping the animals on either side of him. Surely Tobias would hear them coming, if he did anything suddenly he would frighten them away. Holding the bow half drawn in front of him he moved towards the edge of the trees. He took care to watch where he placed his feet and trod slowly and gently avoiding twigs which might crack and scare off his supper.
Suddenly he heard a shout. Tobias called out, calling Thomas' name in panic. The animals either side of him moved fast towards the edge of the trees and out into the open. They were running towards Tobias rather than away. Something was wrong, very wrong. He ran to the edge of the trees himself and stood for a moment in shock. Either side of him two large men in animal skins each carrying small round shields in one hand and long curved swords in the other had left the trees and were charging towards the river. Running to where Tobias stood beside the horses surrounded by another four men dressed and armed in the same manner. Tobias had backed up to one of the horses but was unable to reach the chestnut mare, which was carrying the weapons and armour. Thomas could see the look of panic on his face even at this distance. Thomas knew at once what to do, he stood still, raised his bow arm and pulled to full stretch until the goose feathers on the arrow touched his earlobe. He breathed out then released. One of the men nearest to Tobias spun around with a sharp cry and clawed at his back where an arrow had suddenly appeared, before pitching forward on to the ground. The other men whirled round and in a moment had seen Thomas as he pulled another arrow from his belt. The two men running from the woods turned and began to run back towards Thomas. He notched the second arrow onto the bowstring and realised he had only one other left ' one each he thought I had better not miss. He aimed at the nearest man, drawing and shooting in one movement. The arrow hit him full in the throat and the man stumbled, blood gushing in spurts over his animal skin jacket. He tugged at the shaft trying to pull it free although it protruded a hands breadth from the back of his neck. He sank to his knees as blood bubbled from his mouth. Thomas pulled his last arrow from his belt and quickly notched it to his string. He turned to face the second man. This man slowed in his charge up the hill and raised his shield to cover his body and throat. Giving a yell of rage the man dived forward again, trusting in his shield to save him.
It's like boar hunting thought Thomas wait until the last moment and shoot for the weakest part you can. He raised his aim and loosed the last arrow. The man staggered, the arrow had hit him dead in the eye. He howled with pain, dropping his weapons he grabbed the arrow that protruded from the empty socket with both hands then fell dead in front of Thomas' feet.
In the confusion Tobias had ducked around the back of one of the horses and tried to reach his sword. The bandit nearest to him, a large man with a long black moustache was rooted to the spot as he saw Thomas kill the two men. Tobias' sudden movement revived him and he turned and made a downward slash at the boy's head. Tobias ducked and the curved blade hit the tent strapped to the horse's back. For a moment the blade stayed stuck in the fabric of the pack. Tobias leapt forward gripping the man's wrist with both hands. He jabbed his elbow into the man's face, there was a sharp crack as the man's nose broke. The man grunted, his grip on his sword hilt slackened for a second and Tobias wrenched it from his hand. Raising the unfamiliar sword over his head Tobias chopped down clumsily almost severing the man's head. As the man fell backwards, Tobias turned to face the two remaining bandits as they circled round and closed in. Because Tobias had his back to the horse, the men were unable to attack from opposite sides. However when they attacked together he was unable to retreat out of their reach. Tobias side-stepped one man's attack as he blocked the other's. When the first man attacked again he parried and countered with a thrust that hit the man below his ribs. The curved blade designed for hacking and slashing was of little use as a thrusting sword and the man staggered back with a serious but not immediately fatal wound. Tobias and his remaining opponent circled each other, each waiting for an opening. Tobias closed in. Then he stumbled, catching his foot on the leg of the first man he had killed. The remaining bandit, seizing his chance jumped forward sword raised over his head he smashed down with the blade driving Tobias to his knees. A second blow killed Tobias as he tried to raise the sword again The massive two handed cut knocked Tobias' sword aside and split his skull like an egg..
Thomas reached the chestnut mare as he heard Tobias cry out behind him. He would not look back as he reached to draw the sword strapped across the horses back. He cursed Tobias as he saw the leather thong looped around the hilt, to prevent it falling free as they crossed the river. He flicked the thong free and turned as he heard running footsteps behind and a voice shout a war cry. He turned and lunged.
The man stopped in his tracks, the speed of his charge had carried him onto the thrusting point. The man hung for a moment impaled on the point of the sword , which had gone through his neck and in into his spine, His mouth flapped like a fish caught on a spear, then he fell back carrying the blade with him. Thomas tried to pull the blade free but could not. He stepped forward placing a foot on the man's chest and wrenched it free from its place jammed into the man's vertebra..
Thomas ran to Tobias' side but once glance at the pale, cold features and sightless eyes told him that his friend was already dead. He looked around at the clearing to see it littered with bodies. The horses were still saddled and the light was fading fast. He did not know if there were other brigands out here. He made a decision to leave as soon as possible.
He ran and retrieved his arrows from the men he had killed. Carefully he lifted Tobias onto the back of one of the horses tying him in place so that he would not fall. Thomas stopped to plan his route he must ride on to try to find the Abbey tonight, as it was his only hope of shelter. I might be ambushed again he thought and decided on further protection. Searching through the horses' packs, he quickly removed Tobias' coat of mail. It was long in length designed to cover the arms and also the upper legs when fighting on foot or on horse. To this he added a large helm which covered all of his face although restricting his view. He tried to carry large kite shaped shield but realising that this would be too cumbersome when leading horses he slung this across his shoulder to protect him from an arrow in the back. He gathered the lead reins of the horses in his left hand he set off into the lengthening shadows.