ditch digging: when you return tomorrow, you will be digging ditches by yourself. Now go!” he yelled.
Thor turned and saw the envious looks of the others, then ran from the field, heading for the castle. What could Erec want from him? Had it something to do with the King?
*
Thor ran through King’s Court, turning down a path he had never gone down before: towards the barracks of the Silver. Their barracks were much more grand than those of the Legion’s, their buildings twice the size, lined with copper, and their pathways paved with new stone. To get there, Thor had to pass through an arched gate twice the size of any other, a dozen of the King’s men standing guard. The path then broadened, stretching out across a huge, open field, and culminating in a complex of stone buildings, encircled by a fence, and guarded by dozens more knights. It was an imposing site, even from here.
Thor raced down the path, conspicuous in the open field, and knights already prepared for his approach, even though he was so far away, stepping forward and crossing their lances, looking straight ahead, ignoring him, as they blocked his path.
“What business have you here?” one of them asked.
“I am reporting for duty,” Thor responded. “I am Erec’s squire.”
The knights exchanged a wary look, but another knight stepped forward and nodded. They stepped back, uncrossed their weapons, and the gate slowly opened, its metal spikes rising, creaking. The gate was immense, at least two feet thick, and Thor thought that this place was even more fortified than even the King’s Castle.
“The second building on the right.” the knight yelled. “You’ll find him in the stables.”
Thor turned and hurried down the path through the courtyard, passing a compound of stone buildings, taking it all in. Everything was gleaming here, spotless, perfectly maintained. The whole place exuded an aura of strength.
Thor found the building, and was dazzled by the sight before him: dozens of the biggest and most beautiful horses he’d ever seen were tied up in neat rows outside the building, most of them covered in armor. The horses gleamed. Everything here was bigger, grander. He was inside the Silver’s home; he could hardly believe it.
Real knights trotted by in every direction, carrying various weapons, passing through the courtyard on their way in or out of various gates. It was a busy place, and Thor could feel the presence of battle here. This place was not about training: it was about war. Life and death.
Thor passed through a small, arched entranceway, down a darkened corridor of stone, and continued hurrying through, passing by stable after stable, searching for Erec. But he reached the end of it, and he was nowhere to be found.
“Looking for Erec, are you?” a guard asked.
Thor turned and nodded.
“Yes, sire. I am his squire.”
“You are late. He is already outside, preparing his horse. Move quickly, then.”
Thor ran down the corridor and burst out of the stables into an open field. There was Erec, standing before a giant, valiant stallion, a gleaming black horse with a white nose. The horse snorted as Thor arrived, and Erec turned.
“I am sorry, sire,” Thor said, out of breath. “I came as fast as I could. I did not mean to be late.”
“You are just in time,” Erec said with a gracious smile. “Thor, meet Lannin,” he added, gesturing to the horse.
Lannin snorted and pranced, as if in response. Thor stepped up and reached out a hand and stroked his nose; he whinnied softly in return.
“He is my journey horse. A knight of rank has many horses, as you will learn. There is one for jousting, one for battle, and one for the long, solitary journey. This is the one you forge the closest friendship with. He likes you. That is good.”
Lannin leaned forward and stuck his nose in Thor’s palm. Thor was overwhelmed by the magnificence of this creature. He could see intelligence shining in his eyes. It was eerie: he felt as if he understood everything.
But something Erec said threw Thor off.
“Did you say a journey, sire?” he asked surprised.
Erec stopped tightening the harness, turned and looked at him.
“Today is the day of my birth. I have reached my twenty fifth year. That is a special day. Do you know about Selection Day?”
Thor shook his head. “Very little, sire; only what others tell me.”
“We knights of the Ring must always continue on, generation after generation,” Erec began. “We have until our twenty fifth year to choose a bride. If one is not chosen by then, law dictates for us to find one. We are given one year to find her, and to bring her back. If we return without one, then one is given to us by the king, and we forfeit our right to choose.
“So today, I must embark on my journey to find my bride.”
Thor stared back, speechless.
“But sire, you are leaving? For one year?”
Thor’s stomach dropped at the thought of it. He felt his world crumbling around him. It wasn’t until this moment that he realized what a liking he had taken to Erec; in some ways, he had become like a father to him- certainly more of a father than the one he’d had.
“But then who shall I be squire to?” Thor asked. “And where will you go?”
Thor recalled how much Erec had stuck up for him, how he had saved his life. His heart sank at the idea of his leaving.
Erec laughed, a carefree laugh.
“Which question shall I answer first?” he said. “Do not worry. You have been assigned a new knight. You will be squire to him until my return. Kendrick, the king’s eldest son.”
Thor’s heart soared to hear that; he felt an equally strong attachment to Kendrick who, after all, was the first one to look out for him and assure him a spot in the Legion.
“As far as my journey….” Erec continued, “…I do not yet know. I know I will head south, towards the kingdom that I hail from, and search for a bride in that direction. If I do not find one within the Ring, then I may even cross the sea to my own kingdom to search for one there.”
“Your own kingdom, sire?” Thor asked.
Thor realized that he didn’t really know that much about Erec, about where he came from. He had always just assumed he had come from within the Ring.
Erec smiled. “Yes, far from here, across the sea. But that is a tale for another time. It will be a far journey, and a long one, and I must prepare. So help me now. Time is quick. Harness my horse, and stock it with all manner of weapons.”
Thor’s head was spinning as he sprang into action, running to the stables, to the horse armory, and grabbing the distinct black and silver armor he knew belonged to Lannin. He ran back with one piece at a time, first placing the mailcoat on the horse’s back, reaching up to drape it around his huge body. Then Thor ran and grabbed the shaffron, the thin, plated metal for the horse’s head.
Lannin whinnied as he did so, and he seemed to like it. He was a noble horse, a warrior, Thor could tell, and he seemed just as comfortable in armor as a knight would.
Thor ran back and retrieved Erec’s golden spurs, and helped attach one to each foot as Erec mounted the horse.
“Which weapons will you need, sire?” Thor asked.
Erec looked down, seeming huge from this perspective.
“It’s hard to anticipate what battles I might encounter throughout a year. But I need to be able to hunt, and to defend myself. So of course, I need my longsword. I also should bring my shortsword, a bow, a quiver of arrows, a short spear, a mace, a dagger, and my shield. I suspect that will do.”
“Yes, sire,” Thor said, and broke into action. He ran to Erec’s weapons rack, beside Lannin’s stable, and looked over the dozens of weapons. There was an impressive arsenal to choose from.
He carefully removed all the weapons that Erec needed, and brought them back one at a time, handing them to Erec or placing them securely in the harness.
As Erec sat there, tightening his leather gauntlets, preparing to leave, Thor could not stand to watch him
