3 - A Knight’s Mandate (4)

It was no sight to behold, nor to admire. The five Knights had woken up a few hours before the sun rose, groggily trudging down the stairs to join their leader in the courtyard. Joon yawned as he stretched his arms high above his head, wincing as muscles that weren't used to such exertion protested loudly. There had been no sign of Daeclan that morning, yet. Probably for the best. The bleary-eyed men found themselves eating a simple breakfast at the mess hall. Some of them sat with their heads down on the table, having already eaten their portion of porridge and bread. Others picked at food left unattended, but most of the men remained silent and unmoving.

A flaming-red head of hair rested on top of an opened book, Samsher's chin digging into the pages while his glasses began to slip.

"What are you reading?" Llew asked, trying to make out the words through the mess of red strands.

"Not reading," he replied, shortly. "Studying."

The boy nearly dropped his plate. "Studying? I didn't know we'd be tested this soon!"

Sir Gareth appeared from nowhere as soon as Joon had finished his breakfast and set his cutlery down politely. The Lieutenant wore his customary armor and a short cape fastened loosely around his shoulders. The men rose from their seats as soon as they saw the knight approaching, saluting respectfully.

"At ease, gentlemen," he said curtly, watching them sit back down. With that, he began addressing them in general. "We'll have the second shift today. We will be patrolling around the White Reach to the North of the Castle."

Somebody coughed awkwardly.

"Yes, Llew?"

Llew cleared his throat. "Nothing Sir, just a little congested." Another cough.

Joon raised an eyebrow at him. Llew flushed slightly in embarrassment.

"Anyways…" Sir Gareth said with a sigh. "As I was saying, we're going to patrol the north side of the city today." He paused, as if suddenly remembering something important. "We're missing a member. Where's Sir Daeclan?"

There was a brief pause where everyone looked at each other before the silence turned awkward.

"He's sick, Sir," Marcus answered finally, the lie flowing easily from his lips. He avoided looking up from his plate, focusing instead on picking apart the remains of his breakfast. "There's a bug going around," he added, looking pointedly at Llew, who was turning blue trying to hold his coughs in.

"Ah," Sir Gareth responded calmly, "I see." He glanced around him before nodding towards one of the cooks. "What are we having for breakfast? I do hope it's porridge."

***

It had ended up that their first patrol as a squad would be alone, without their leader.

Dame Elara had stopped the group on the way out of the mess hall at lunch, following their training session that morning. She exchanged serious words with Sir Gareth in a low tone, nothing the other men could make out.

"You'll have to go on without me, gentlemen," Sir Gareth had told them. "The Lieutenants are having a meeting this afternoon."

Samsher nodded, taking the lead. "Understood. See you later."

Now, they were making their way to the North area within Suneo's city borders. The White Reach was its traditional name, Samsher had tried to explain to the squad, since it held two new Knights— Joon and Llew. Marcus strode ahead, ignoring his lectures.

Llew, however, was full of questions. He walked next to the older Knight, staring intently ahead at everything that happened around them.

"So, where are the other Knights?" he asked. "I thought the Knights of Suneo were at least around a thousand strong. It looks like we're the only ones patrolling."

"Suneo's Knights are spread throughout the province," Samsher explained patiently, glancing around them, "and not all Knights are Guards. Sir Gareth is in charge of security and protection here. The other Eight Lieutenants of Suneo are currently stationed in other outposts, with Knights of their own. Some are out on diplomatic duties."

"Wow," Llew breathed in amazement, his green eyes shining.

Marcus scoffed, pulling off the leaves on a particularly low-lying branch that had grazed over his head. "I didn't know they were letting greenies like you in." He leaned into their conversation and crossed his arms over his chest, feigning superiority. "I bet you're not a day over fifteen."

"I'm sixteen, actually," Llew shot back immediately, lifting his chin defiantly. "And what's a greenie?"

"It means you're fresh off the block, kid," a voice chimed in from the tree above them, perched like a cat, twirling a black dagger in his hands.

Joon's head darted towards the direction of the sound. He hadn't heard a single noise. How?

"Nice of you to show up, you oaf," Marcus grumbled, glaring at the intruder.

Daeclan snorted, landing lightly onto the ground. His dark hair swayed wildly behind him as he walked forward.

Joon's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword as he noticed Daeclan's approach, a subtle tension rippling through his muscles. Though he maintained a calm facade, the tightening of his grip betrayed his wariness.

He grinned at Joon mischievously. "Long time, no see."

"Who's that?" Llew stage-whispered, pointing at the newcomer curiously.

"The fifth member of our team," Samsher answered, arms crossed. "And he's late."

Daeclan ignored him, stepping closer until he was standing directly in front of Joon, who narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Daeclan smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Hello, Joon. Fancy seeing you again."

"Where were you last night?" Marcus interrupted, glaring daggers at the Knight. "I had to cover for you at breakfast."

"Last night? What are you talking about, I haven't been anywhere," Daeclan replied with a smirk, shrugging. "What did you tell him?" his eyes gleamed with mirth.

Samsher looked away, grumbling something under his breath. "Enough. Let's get moving, shall we? We still have a patrol to complete."

They moved out, following Samsher as he led the way through the streets of the White Reach. The crisp morning air nipped at Joon's cheeks as they made their way through the calm streets, stirring a sense of nostalgia within him. He supposed spring was pleasant, no matter where you found yourself.

"We should split into groups," Samsher announced suddenly. "Daeclan, you go with Joon, take the East end. You know the way. Llew, Marcus, and I will take the West."

"I can go alone," Marcus objected, folding his muscular arms across his chest. "No need for all of us."

Samsher narrowed his eyes. "I don't know if you remember, but the War is over. You're a Knight now, not a soldier. And Knights work in teams."

Llew smiled with a smug look on his face. "I think it's a good idea. That way we won't be too separated if something bad happens."

Marcus's jaw grated. Joon had seen that look before. It was the look of a bull taunted by a matador, fleeting and impermanent yet powerful enough to threaten. Marcus might have been shorter than most knights, but the sheer power he exuded intimidated many people, especially those younger than him.

His gaze turned to Llew, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, isn't someone so eager to please? If you like the idea so much, why don't you go join the Yonker and leave the Knight business to the rest of us?"

Joon bristled at the insult, his fingers twitching near his sword. He took a deep breath, willing himself to stay cool, keeping his expression neutral. It wasn't the time to intervene. A few words spoken in anger were not enough to warrant violence.

"I'm just as capable of being a Knight as you are!" Llew yelled, oblivious to the storm he was raising. Joon winced. Youth and their pride. "And unlike you, I don't need to rely on brute strength to do so!"

Marcus's eyes flashed dangerously. "Are you threatening me? Because right now, I think you need a taste of this 'brute strength' to shut you up! Honor is earned. You're no Knight yet," he spat.

Llew's face flushed with fury. "Let's settle it then. A fight for honor," his voice dropped, trembling with rage and nervous excitement.

Joon grabbed the dagger strapped to his thigh and unsheathed his sword, stepping into the fray before their weapons could make first clash. He parried the blows, twisting their blades out of their grips with his own and disarming them, sending them into the ground with a firm THUD.

He sheathed his sword. "Weapons aren't for play. There is no honor in fighting for such a frivolous cause," he glowered, giving them a stern glance, warning them to keep their anger in check. "I will go alone."

The others stood frozen in shock. Daeclan's eyes widened almost comically, blinking twice before he managed to gather himself and pull down the corners of his mouth from his smile. This was serious.

"I didn't know he could talk!" Llew exclaimed, looking between Daeclan and Samsher, who remained stunned and silent.