Knight's Ransom (The First Argentines #1)(12)

The mistreatment drove Ransom to work even harder, but the abuse became worse, and he didn’t feel he could go to Lord Kinghorn and complain.

It continued into the second week and the third. Ransom felt he was earning respect from the other boys, but none of them tried to befriend him. James had taken to mocking him during dinner, but Ransom refused to rise to the bait. Some of the other boys looked away in discomfort when it happened.

It was during the fourth week that an incident happened in the training yard. Baldwin had matched up Ransom and James with heavy two-handed swords, which he said were popular with knights in Occitania. Baldwin called them bastard swords because they were longer than the ones knights in Ceredigion typically used and required two hands, thus precluding the use of a shield.

Ransom found the weapon intuitive and natural considering his size and strength. Every time James came at him, he blocked the other boy and knocked him back. It felt as if the sword swung itself, and while it was heavier than the wooden practice blades, he didn’t get tired as they confronted each other. James became more and more frustrated as the two of them continued to spar.

The weight of the sword tired out James, but Ransom felt as fresh as he had at the start of the day. A thrill went through him as he warded off his adversary’s relentless attacks, parrying each strike. When their blades locked, Ransom used his greater size to throw the young man back, and James stumbled and went down, earning some involuntary surprised chuckles from some of the boys.

James lifted his helmet visor, his eyes full of hate and rage.

Baldwin saw the look and stepped between them. “I think that’s far enough. Hand your blades to me.” Ransom, though breathing fast, didn’t feel winded at all. He’d loved the feeling of handling the sword with both hands. He lowered the blade and handed it to Captain Baldwin before raising his visor. James panted heavily, his brow drenched with sweat, and clambered to his feet.

Ransom felt a prickle of warning that the other boy might attack him now that he was defenseless. He didn’t know why he felt that, but it was a shuddering sensation that went down to his toes. Ransom held James’s gaze as if to meet the challenge he had not yet made, grateful he still wore a hauberk, bracers, gauntlets, and a helmet.

James bent over, gulping down air, and gave Ransom a deadly look.

“Hand it over, lad,” Baldwin said, extending his free hand for the weapon, the other clenching Ransom’s sword.

James paused for a moment, but then handed over the weapon. The prickle of apprehension faded.

“Get some food,” Baldwin said. “I know you boys are always hungry. Ransom . . . stay behind a minute.”

The other boys wandered off, but a nervous silence followed them. Their normal banter had been muted. Ransom struggled to get the helmet off and was grateful for the fresh air.

Once Baldwin and Ransom were alone, the bearlike man said, “That was fine swordsmanship, boy. It felt like I was watching the knights go at it. Well, except for one of you.” He chuckled. “I worried that Jack might go after you there at the end. He was pretty upset.”

Ransom felt itchy from the sweat and the armor. He held the helmet in the crook of his arm. “He doesn’t like to lose,” he replied.

“No one does, lad. But it’s time you started to.”

Ransom blinked in surprise. “You want me to lose to him on purpose?”

Baldwin chuffed. “Is that what you thought I meant? No, boy. I think it’s time you started training with some of the knights. You’ve been here but a month, and you’re already better than all of these boys. Granted, they might not be trying very hard, but I’ll daresay that Jack was. He couldn’t touch you. Which means you won’t continue to improve. I want to see you cross blades with someone better than you. Someone clearly better. It’ll hurt, boy. I won’t lie to you. Not many lads your age can handle a bastard sword for long, but I think you can. Prove me right.”

Ransom smiled and nodded in gratitude. “Thank you.”

The captain chuffed again. “You won’t be thanking me tomorrow, trust me. Now, take off your armor and go get some food before all that’s left are peas and butter.”

Ransom grinned and hurried off, going to the worktable the others had already abandoned. He tugged off the gauntlets and unbuckled the bracers and guards. While squirming out of the hauberk, he smelled himself and the sweat he’d worked up. They all stank at the end of the day. Ransom went to the water bucket and took a satisfying drink and then hurried away from the training yard while Baldwin put the weapons back in their proper places. He was a fastidious man, the captain.

Ransom jogged around the corner and down the length of the castle wall in the courtyard. He passed the rear of the stables where the horses were kept and thought of Gemmell. When they started to work with their lances, he’d be able to ride again.

A flash of warning came to him, just in time for him to start raising his arms. The staff struck him hard across the front, smashing into his forearms and knocking him down on his back. When his head struck the cobblestones, everything went dark for a moment.





A ship has been found willing to take our household to Legault. Da had chartered with another captain who turned out to be as thick as manure but only half as useful. He’d proposed setting sail, even though there seemed to be a squall on the sea. Da may not be a sailor, but a good man giving bad advice is quite often more dangerous than a nasty brute giving bad advice. That captain was acting the maggot. Da says we may not return to Ceredigion for a while, as if that would bother me. Best to be out of the country while the new king establishes his court and gets used to the burden of the hollow crown. He’ll be rewarding his friends with all the plums in his new orchard. Since Da served King Gervase, albeit without much enthusiasm, he doesn’t expect any of the delectable fruit. No, Da will prove his worth as soon as someone pokes the royal nest with a stick, and men-at-arms and knights are needed to fight. Course, he may have to prove himself even sooner. Many in Legault aren’t keen on having a ruler who isn’t Gaultic-born. Some people only listen to forged iron after being clouted on the head.