“Those were some good moves, Stefan,” Thomas said as the three boys walked to the weapons rack. “Where did you learn them?”
Stefan huffed a short laugh. “I’ve been training with staffs since I was little, Lord Thomas. My father said I’d better know how because we didn’t have enough money to train me with swords or other weapons. We didn’t even have money for leather armor.”
Thomas looked at him with new respect. “For not having any other training, you’re doing really well, then,” he said. “How did you become a squire?” He sneezed violently from the dust in the air raised by their practice.
“Your father knew mine from the last war. When he found out that my father had a son of an age to become a squire, he sent for me. You should have seen my father. He was shocked, and then so proud. My mother started to cry. It was good, and bad. Made me feel happy and sad at the same time.”
“I know what you mean. I felt the same way when Father and Mother left,” Thomas told him. “What about you, Maccon? What’s your story?”
“The town where I grew up sponsored me to your father,” Maccon replied. “I’ve always been good with weapons and horses. There hasn’t been anyone else sent as a squire for a very long time. When your father accepted me, the whole town was thrilled. The mayor and council came to see me accepted,” he said proudly.
“That’s really excellent,” Thomas responded with a punch to Maccon’s shoulder. “Let’s go get mid-meal. I want to hear more. I’ll sit with you. Come on.” Thomas took off running.
The two boys looked at each other, then took off chasing him with a whoop of laughter.
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