Bolt From the Blue, Leslie Claussen [read more books txt] 📗

“Sir Arthur is on the horizon," I called from my treetop perch. “He and his Knights are riding this way with banners raised. Can I get down now?” I asked as I was beginning to feel sick from the height.
“Yes, you can come down now,” Brian shouted up from below.
“Brian, tell me again why I had to climb the tallest oak in Britain?” I asked after safely on soft green land.
“Well, my little brother, you were volunteered because you are the smallest boy in the village. Do you have any other stupid questions?”
“No, I just don't like climbing,” I said truthfully.
“Lucas, you will need to overcome your fears if you wish to be a great knight some day. We should go home, Mother will have supper going soon and she'll want you to help her peel and cut vegetables.” Brian was training to be a page so he didn't have to do any chores. I, on the other hand, am too young and too small to pick up a proper sword. When the village children play, they tease me and call me "worm" because they all have a light metal sword while I have a wooden one.
Dinner that night was excellent, pheasant with boiled potatoes and carrots. Mother and father talked excitedly throughout the meal about Sir Arthur and his Knights arriving at our village. I had heard stories about Arthur but thought them all false; no one man could be as amazing as the tales proclaimed. I am only twelve but I have never seen any person do what tales say can be done.
The next day there was word that the Knights would host a tournament for two boys to start training as their newest pages. Many boys ran to the blacksmith to have armor and swords made or bettered; Brian was out before dawn. I didn't even give it a thought. There was no possible way I could ever become a knight; I would live out my life as a farmer or smith.
I even worked some days with Hadrian, the smith; Hadrian’s Roman father married a local woman but his father died shortly after Hadrian's birth. Though he has never seen Rome, Hadrian still acts as if he were a prominent Roman citizen, who could return any moment to his homeland. He is a good teacher and I have learned a great deal in only a few weeks of apprenticing.
“Aren't you going to help Hadrian make all that armor he has on order?” came a cheery voice from behind me as I worked the field. It was Samantha, a girl my age who is sweet on me.
“No, I don't want anything to do with that contest.” I said decidedly.
“You wouldn't do it just to help Hadrian with all that work? He'll have to labor for at least two days and nights to make everything.” Sam was cute, her dirty knees kneeling on the ground, as she began to help me remove weeds.
“Did he send you or are you here purely to pester me?” I asked, cutting to the point of her visit.
“Some part of both, I feel bad for Hadrian and you are the only one that could help him. You know, if I could, I would help, but I don't know metal work.” Sam was the strongest, toughest girl in Warden, if not all of Britain, and one day she will be my bride.
She smiled beautifully up at me and flashed her eyes; she was trying to win over my will. “So, am I meant to give in to your resolve?”
She replied with an innocent, “Yes.”
“Fine, I give in, only with the condition that you weed the rest of this field.” I would face more trouble from my father if I didn't finish my chores.
“I'll do it, just for you, Lucas. Now run, get out of here! Go help Hadrian.” Sam partially kicked me off my own land and pushed me on my way down the path to the village square.
Brutus Marius, Lord of Warden Manor, was giving a speech from behind a fancy podium when I walked into the village square. Crowds had gathered and I had to push through many to get to the smith workshop. Hadrian was working the fires and cooling iron at the same time, a dangerous spread of attention that could result in a number of accidents.
I didn't want to distract him, so I grabbed a hammer and began to pound out some raw metal.
“Young Lucas, I did not hear you come in. You are one of the quietest boys I’ve ever met.” I was unsure if that was a compliment or not so I just nodded my head. “Could you give those swords a few swings outside while I finish this helmet?”
“Yes, sir,” I said as I grabbed about five rough swords and tucked them under my arm.
“Make sure each of them feels right,” he said, “You know how it should move, right?”
“Yes, Hadrian,” I lied. I'd been meaning to get sword training but I didn't have the nerve to ask even Brian; I didn't want to get laughed at as I tried to swing a heavy metal sword.
I lugged the swords out through the back of the shop. I wasn't going to make a fool of myself out in front of that large crowd listening to Lord Brutus Marius. Once outside, I dropped the weapons on the packed dirt ground and looked at the mess of metal.
Why couldn't the contest test archery, not swordsmanship? I had Brian teach me how to fire a bow when I was ten and I've been improving ever since. If a mad Northern tribe ever invaded the village I could fight forever with a bow and arrows but if my fate lied in a sword, I would be doomed.
Using all my strength, I brought the sword from the ground to my waist. I huffed and breathed heavily as I lifted the weapon above my head and held a fighting stance.
I was swinging mindlessly when I heard footsteps approaching. After the steps stopped, a powerful voice said, “You should try holding the sword handle with two hands if it is too heavy for you.”
I whirled around, and then dropped the sword when I saw the man behind me. He was dressed in leather and chain-mail, with the Roman symbols on his chest and sheathed weapons.
To show courtesy, I bowed my head, as my mother had taught me, to the knight, “Sir Galahad.”
Sir Galahad was the youngest of Arthur’s Knights, fresh-faced and lacking wounds and scars. He stood strongly, almost two full heads taller than me. He pulled my head up gently, “No reason to bow to me, boy. You cannot be more than six years younger then me.”
“I’m twelve years of age, Sir Galahad,” I replied.
“Why aren’t you with the other village boys, hacking and swings with old swords in the fields?”
“I’m not a swordfighter, Sir. I am too small to swing a metal sword.” I stood looking up at the mighty Knight with wide eyes.
“I thought it was you I saw in the moonlight, firing a bow with ease.” I hadn’t known that someone had seen me during my nightly archery practice sessions out in the field.
Still surprised, I replied, “Oh, yes sir that was me.”
“Yes, you are very good. I believe you hit your target both on foot and on horseback. You should enter the contest as an archer, you would surely win. What is your name, young archer?”
I was thrown by his words; he had called me an archer, not a foolish boy with a bow. “My name… Oh, my name is Lucas, Lucas of Warden.” I fought the urge to bow again.
“Well, Lucas of Warden, don’t let your size stop you from what you want to become. I, too, was a young and skinny boy with the hopes of being a great knight one day. I was determined and I caught the eye of a knight, Arthur. Since then, I have never been doubted as a knight.” He kneeled down to meet my eyes and put his hand on my shoulder. “You are a great archer. All you need is training and a determined mind and you will become a remarkable knight, too. I can see it in your eyes; you have the power of the ages with you. You will be a great man some day and I would be proud to ride with you and call you brother.”
He got up and walked away without another word. He turned the corner and was gone.
I sat on the ground, wondering if I had fallen asleep and dreamed about Galahad or if it had really happened. Either way, I discovered a new feeling stirring in me. I could feel it reach my heart and my head.
I picked up the swords and practiced an hour with each one. I hit many trees and the back of the shop, but I didn’t give up. When I was done, I had sweat rolling down my face and into my eyes. I wiped my face and went back inside as the light began to diminish.
“Were you out there the whole time, Lucas?” Hadrian asked when I tiredly dragged the swords back in.
“Yes, sir, every sword is perfect and ready for battle. Can I go home now?”
“Yes, of course, my boy. Sleep well, Lucas.”
I walked home quickly with renewed energy. I ate heartily, cleaning my plate twice as did my brother.
“Why, you two have healthy appetites tonight!” my mother proclaimed.
“I’m entering the contest tomorrow; I'll need my strength.” I said, thinking my family would laugh in my face.
My brother was the first to say anything, “Those younger boys do need some good competition.”
“Really, you don’t mind, Brian?” I asked, surprised by his response.
“Yes, you won’t be in my group and any boys your age are not as well trained at archery. If I may be honest, you had a great teacher,” he flashed a witty smile.
My parents smiled proudly as there two sons filled up for the next day’s competition. I didn’t tell them about my encounter with Sir Galahad.
The next morning could not come soon enough. I rose with the sun and dressed in Brian’s old leather armor. “You’re lucky it’s too small for me,” Brian had said when he tossed the clothes to me.
I tried to save as much of my energy for the contest but my stomach was twisting with excitement.

++++

The sun was high above our heads as Brian, Sam and I walked to the village square. Sam was coming along to support and cheer on the two of us. The square was packed with people and several boys were preparing for the contest. My stomach twisted even more as I looked at all of them. They were all muscle and iron, with terrifying looks on their faces. I was a speck compared to them; even Brian, who I thought was pretty fit, was smaller than