The Twisted Adventures of Sir Weimar

Ch.11:Fjore

"Is there any way we can assist you?"

Sir Globar turned to give the boys a stern glance."Actually, there is, however, it doesn't involve taking part in the battle."

"Oi! Say what?"

The flabbergasted look on Syras's face reflected how Weimar felt on the inside. Here he was squiring for Aislundia's most renown knight and now he was being sidelines from an important battle that determined the fate of a small town.

How could he do this to us?

"I understand you both feel the need to prove your mettle in battle, but I am afraid that will have to wait until another time. By Magnus's sword, I felt the same way when I squired for Sir Strabor, but you don't have the training or the discipline to take on the Bleeding Mummies."

Syras wasn't easily placated. 

"B-but you saw us take those ruffians back at our village with nothing but wooden swords. I am sure we could hold our own."

"He's right," Weimar chimed in. "My melee team and I managed to survive that onslaught."

The look on the Aislundian knight's face darkened. "Notice how you just stated how you and your 'melee team' survived. Also, I emphasize the word 'survive' as well. You and your team barely held your own against the outlaws until me and the other knights came to your aid. If you lacked each other as you do now, you'd have been buried six feet under by now. That doesn't mean you lack any fighting prowess whatsoever. You both just need time to hone your skills with a shield and sword. "

"If I may object to that last statement-" Syras opened his mouth, but their superior cut him off.

"Nay, I will not heed anything more that comes out of your mouth. As your superior, I order my squire and my stable hand to remain behind until further notice. I will not be delayed by further defiance from either of you. Now, stay with the mayor and be on your best behavior until I return!"

Raising his glistening sword, which Weimar had found out the knight had christened as Talon, Sir Globar followed the mayor's guards outside the building toward the waning twilight air. Sulking, the two teenagers sat across from the mayor and his elite guards on a large ornate wormwood couch, complete with wyverns carved on the handles of the seats.  Mayor Haathon was the first to break the silence that felt like it went on for ages.

"What's with the long faces, boys? You will be safe with me here as the battle rages on outside. Want some Celestan Cider? It came in fresh from Florenta this morning."

Syras groaned and rolled his dark eyes. "Precisely why we are in our current mood."

The Mayor, brushing a strand of his burgundy hair, clapped his hands and ordered an aide to light up the fire by the pit at the side of the wall. Once that was completed, he turned to face the village boys once again. 

"Ah! Here now, lads. Spending time with the mayor of Fjore can't be all that bad, can it? You should be thrilled that instead of risking your lives and limbs in the tangle outside with those wild ones, you get to hear of my grand exploits. Many would pay a dozen coins for this opportunity you boys are receiving. Now where shall I begin? Me hunting the Qati'i Ibex? My achievements during my days in the Aislundian military when the Goblin Wars or the battles with the Glacial Priestess-Duchess of the Artika or the Night Druid Chieftain of the Hallows. Those were my glory days."

Weimar was nearly lulled to sleep by the corrupt mayor's monologue about his past accomplishments and one quick glance at his buddy confirmed that Syras had felt the same way about the charlatan. They were going to have take care of the rambling man if they valued their sanity. It wasn't long until Syras rose from his seat.