Chronicles of the Sword in the Stone (remastered and continued)

Chapter 7: Keys to Success

Today was one of the rarer occasions of Hazel's new life. With some extreme luck, she had managed to finish a good portion of her duties early, and thus she had a little free time to herself. With little else to do, she would spend these days practicing writing the alphabet while watching Arthur, Percival, and Kay as they trained in the courtyard. Sir Ector was acting as their instructor, and it was clear that the older man had his work cut out for him with his three young protégés.

First and foremost was Arthur himself. When training, the boy had put his true sword away in favor of a wooden blade for fear that he would damage it, and his feelings weren't unjustified. His skinny features produced little force when he swung his weapon, and he seemed to grow tired quickly. What was worse, for him at least, was his ever clumsy mannerisms. Sir Ector would give him the order to charge with a jab, and the boy would trip on his own feet and fall on his face just inches from where his target stood. Still, much to Ector's pride, the boy never gave up, and each time he tried harder and harder, though with varied degrees of success.

Next was Percival, whom provided many headaches for Ector, both technically and literally. The boy had insisted on not wearing his glasses, stating that they gave him an image unbecoming of a knight, and he also made the argument that he would be of better use to his king and country if he could learn to fight without them. Though Ector had his doubts, he did in small part find truth in his words and permitted him to continue. He quickly came to regret this decision as Percival would swing the sword madly in all directions to strike down the target dummy. In the process, he knocked over a weapons rack and scattered several spears all over the ground, hit Ector three times in the head, scared a horse in the nearby stable that ran off while the stable hand was dragged behind by its reins, broke a window, and struck Arthur in the chest until the wooden sword finally flew out of his hand. All the while, the target had remained completely unscathed, and Ector had an aching head for his troubles. Percival felt very small at this point, and he quietly replaced his glasses over his face, not even bothering to reclaim his lost sword.

Then there was Kay. During the entire session, the eldest boy had sat back and watched the two flounder about under Ector's tutelage. He had gotten several laughs in, though he didn't seem too intent on training himself. Earlier, Ector had griped at the boy and told him he needed to practice. In reply, Kay merely yawned, and he then started to doze. However, karma has an odd sense of irony, as the sword that Percival had incidentally thrown had went whistling through the air and into his face, waking him up rather rudely and knocking him to the ground. He came up with a twisted nose and a murderous look, and Percival quickly made himself scarce. Sir Ector merely groaned as he rubbed his aching head, and he told the boys that it was time for a short break. Kay stormed his way back into the castle to tend to his injuries, and he was followed by Ector whom was in search of something to clear his migraine, thus leaving Arthur and Percival alone. Arthur put away his wooden sword, and then he reclined against the wall of the castle.

"That could have gone a whole lot better." he grumbled as he wiped sweat off of his brow.

"I concur." Percival piped in as he joined him. "But don't lose heart just yet, your highness. After all, it's like Master Merlin says. Rome wasn't built in a day."

"No, but that's how long it took for Pompeii to be destroyed." Arthur retorted negatively.

Percival flinched, almost sorry he had said anything. Arthur's confidence had taken many effective blows over the past couple of weeks. The Saxons had been getting very abrasive lately, and their victims were bringing all of their grievances straight to the young king. As his knight, Percival desperately wanted to help, but, sadly, he was every bit as clueless about what to do as his lord. For the most part, it seemed that these raids were spearheaded by a saxon lord by the name of Averil the Wild, and what a proper title the man had. He was a very belligerent fellow that lived in a manor somewhere in the woods that sat at the mountain foothills. He seemed to delight himself in causing pain to others, as well as force those weaker than himself to do his bidding. For all intents and purposes, he was a monster, and one that few men were willing to stand against. Arthur had been spending several restless nights trying to decide how to handle the situation, particularly in finding him. The man was a shadow, there one moment and then just gone. Percival had to give his head a shake to ward off a cold shiver running down his spine just from thinking about it. The idea of one day facing such a man was not among the many fantasies he had regularly concerning knighthood. To clear his mind, and perhaps to ease Arthur's, he looked about the courtyard for some sort of distraction, and he quickly spotted their fellow classmate, Hazel.