Read Online Legend of the Swords: War by Jason Derleth - Free Book Online

it.” The knight’s chainmail hauberk landed at Ryan’s bed, loudly. Ryan looked up at the window to see only black sky and stars--it was well before sunrise.
    “Meet me to the north of camp in a half hour. Your skills are still … embarrassing me.” The knight grunted, then he turned and left.
    Armand truly seemed to dislike Ryan. In the short weeks since he had been taken away from the group of cadets, the days had been filled with only three types of activities: marching, sword practice every day that had Armand leaving bruises all over Ryan’s body, and horsemanship. If he did anything incorrectly or incompletely, he was punished—that took up quite a bit of his time as well.
    Punishment tended to be physical exercise. The day before he had been especially poor in sparring, so Armand had made Ryan run for an hour, in full gear. The excuse was always the same: fighting the Triols would be worse, get used to it.
    The worst part was he wasn’t able to spend any time with Edmund. They sometimes ate together, but that seemed to annoy Armand. He would make loud comments about how he must have misjudged Ryan, that his “skills” weren’t enough to make up for his upbringing after all.
    Ryan climbed out of bed, and struggled to pick up the larger man’s armor. This stuff weighs a ton, he thought to himself . Chain mail, made of circles of wire woven together to make a cloth-like weave of metal, was heavier than plate armor, but easier to make and fit.
    It tended to rust, though, so the knights would often have their squires take the mail and brush it carefully. Rolling it in a barrel full of sand would have been best, but since they were traveling they didn’t have any. After brushing, a coating of oil worked into the metal’s weave would help it stay free of rust a bit longer.
    Ryan threw the hauberk over his right shoulder—his left was sore from yesterday’s practice—and headed down to the horses, where the various tools were kept.
    I miss Edmund. He thought. At least then I had someone to talk to when I had to do stupid things.
    I miss my family, too. He frowned deeply.
    There weren’t any other squires near the horses when he got there. Ryan cleaned the hauberk and oiled it as quickly as he could. It gleamed brightly as he tossed it over his shoulder.
    It looks nice. I wonder if he wants to be the one with the nicest looking armor on the field? He smiled. I suppose that’s what squires are for, after all.
    As he walked, he pulled his tunic straight, and stood a bit taller. The tunic had the emblem of the Knights of the Crown on it, after all. It didn’t fit, but it was still his. Only three of the squires wore the Knights of the Crown emblem, and he was the oldest. The others were younger and faster than he was—but he was smarter, more efficient. When they battled, he won most of the time despite his inexperience.
    He met Armand on the field, who inspected the hauberk closely. He nodded, which was as close to a compliment that Ryan ever got. Armand donned the shining armor. A thick, two-inch wide belt came next, which Ryan belted on for him, pulling the hauberk up so that the belt took some of its weight.
    Training came next. Ryan was doing better in these duels, and Armand was a good teacher, even though he hit hard. Ryan did well enough today that he wasn’t given any punishment.
    The strengthening winter Sun moved through the peak of its arc in the sky as the company marched. Lunch came; after their knights were done, the squires ate together. Ryan waved at Edmund as the recruits cleaned the camp.
    “There are only a few weeks left in winter,” Brian, one of the other three squires said as they sat down with a thick stew.
    Ryan grinned. “I had hoped we’d get somewhere before winter.” He looked around. “I mean, aren’t there some abbeys around? Aren’t they supposed to be off limits for wars?”
    “We’ve got to keep moving,” Brian said. “They would attack any Abbey we were in,