laneys.info Beware of Yankees, drunks, and loose women.

Sunlight shone down through the main sanctuary on the crowd within, all dressed in their best clothes, nobility in the front and bourgeoisie behind with the poor in the upper level to either side. Alexander stood in his vestment within the choir loft behind the dais as Father Gaiven gave his sermon.

"Arhus and the other deities have blessed Kecel with a great victory this day. Many have given their lives to keep us safe and free and are now living in grace in Ghevond, forever bound to that utopia that we all desire and will someday enjoy. Remember these who have given of themselves this past month, as well as those who have given up their homes for the wounded and hungry." His voice echoed within the high walls and towering ceiling overhead as Alexander scanned to his left and through the ornate, wooden lattice carved in the form of vines intertwined to the main sanctuary beyond the dais.
His eyes finally found the lady, her sister and mother sitting on the front row and just behind Father Gaiven's podium. His eyes also found Erik and Tobias deeper in the crowd along with several other of the knights that he had seen some days before. Grinning, he hoped to one day fight alongside them or at least help them in some desperate battle - hopefully away from the walls of Kecel.

After the service, he headed to the kitchen and went to grab the wine pitcher as James - the goblin - stopped him.

"No, you'll be in here helping the cooks," he stated flatly, then walked over to the tall ovens that commanded the near corner.

Alexander set the pitcher down, and headed over to the hearth where he spent the late morning slaving over the fire. Initially perturbed at the change, he realized that these three boys never got to do anything else either.
After they cleaned up, he headed into the stables to help Drystan. A strong, bitter smell of burning coal wafted through the stalls and permeated the wooden interior as he noticed the smith, tongs in one hand, sweating near his anvil. He also noticed Afton standing quietly to the side, hammer in hand who soon turned and noticed Alexander walk up. Wondering if he needed to prepare to do his pushups now or later, he nodded to the now veteran fighter. Surprisingly, the tyrant nodded back.

"Just in time," Drystan greeted. "We'll need some more coal from the bin," he motioned with his head to the rear of the stable.

"Yes, sir," the obedient reply as the new trainee piled the black chunks into the metal basket and muscled it back to the forge. His gangly frame was quickly becoming toned with the years of toil and training which he was coming to enjoy. Drystan handed him the tongs and stepped back.

"When you see the metal glow red hot, take it out and set it on the corner of the anvil," he directed as they both watched the glowing coals soon heat the metal strip. He pulled it out and spun to set it on the anvil where Afton began beating out a horseshoe, directing Alexander when to turn it and where to place it on the metal base standing between them.

"Alright, now toss it into the trough there," Afton said as he backed, wiping grimy sweat from his brow.

Once the horseshoe was done, Alexander glanced to the elder smith who sat on a nearby barrel and drank from his waterskin, then grinned.

"Is it cooled," Afton asked.

Alexander looked into the clear water and noticed their creation was deep grey again. "Yes," he nodded.

"Alright, let's shoe this horse," he directed as he placed the hammer into the slot near the blunt end of the anvil and walked over to the first stall and the awaiting chestnut colored steed.

Alex took the shoe and walked over to the large horse that glared down at him, daring him to make a mistake with the hammer that Afton handed him. He smiled nervously at the horse, then moved to the rear hoof, the mount watching him the whole time as Afton joined him from the opposite side.

"Align it along the curve of his hoof and file it once you're done nailing it on."

Alexander glanced back to the long nose and large black eye that watched him and he hoped that the horse was a mentalist that could read his mind and tell that he had no intention of hurting the subject of the excercise. He had seen others get kicked before and didn't want to experience that feeling firsthand. Nervously, he nailed it onto the large hoof that he held between his knees, then set it down.

"Good job," Afton congratulated.

Alexander stood dumbfounded at the changed teenager that then walked back out of the stall and he turned and followed as he pet the horse on the neck. After closing the stall gate, he walked over as Drystan wiped his face and chest, then tossed the towel onto the saddlehorse that he perched on.

"Well, how did he do," the smith asked.

"Not bad," Afton stated, a bit more upbeat than he had been since Alexander arrived. "A few rough spots, but we can work on those."

Older, brown eyes gazed to the young trainee, "I guess there's hope for you yet, young man," he smiled.

"Yes, sir." Alexander grinned.

"You'll be helping Afton and I in the stables from now on. No more kitchen, which I know breaks your heart."

A broad grin creased his young face, "I'd be honored to help you, sir".

Drystan nodded and stood, "You two clean up here and get ready for supper. I'll see you tomorrow".

"Good evening, sir," Afton said as they then cleaned out the forge and swept.

Alexander replaced the broom to the peg on the wall and turned as Afton handed him a ladle of water from the bucket in his other hand. He took it and drank, wondering what had happened to the older boy.

"Did you get to fight," he finally asked.

Afton's eyes sank as he accepted the ladle and dipped for himself, then nodded. He drank quietly for a moment, then motioned for Alex to follow as he returned the bucket to the well that stood to the left of the stable entrance.

"It was horrible," he finally revealed. "Orcs, trolls and ogres everywhere," the taller templar stated, his voice trembling. "I never seen anything like that in my life. People dying all around while we're fighting these things coming up the siege ladders, glaring with these large, green eyes. They stank like the waste pit before it's burned," he rambled as tears streamed down his face. "All I could think about was swinging my sword and trying to stay alive. I thanked Arhus like never before once they ran back through the fields," he sniffed, then smiled. "They never told us how to handle battle, I don't think they can." He wiped his face as Alexander felt pity for the one he wanted to kill so many times before. "Anyway, we should be to the hall for dinner," he walked through the stable and to the main door as Alexander followed quietly.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, prompting Afton to turn around as he held the door open.

"For what?"

"All the times that we argued and fought, there was no excuse for it. We're both training for the same life and I may be fighting alongside you one day. We can't be a team if we hate each other."

Afton smiled. "Accepted. But, I was the one that was hard on you."

Alexander shook his head, "The pushups have actually made me stronger along with all the other excercising we do. Strength and endurance help a soldier survive a long battle...don't they?"

Afton nodded, then grinned, "Now, get inside before the food gets cold and you make us both late".

They both laughed and headed to the great hall where the others were assembling for dinner. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders that he didn't even realize had been there all this time and with that realization, he felt a cold chill run down his spine and through his body. He looked upward and thought he saw a vague form smiling at him, then dismissed it as imagination as he scanned back to the table as he sat down.