Dreams in Eldrim; Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Skills of a Knight



For a while, Don was led past houses, and towards the center of town by the knight.  During that time, he really had no idea where the skilled warrior was taking him.  He couldn't imagine that man hurting him, but for some reason, he couldn't shake his worry either, as the knight led him towards Troma's primary meal stand.

Don didn't usually think about it, but he was glad that he'd been born into an age when meal stands could exist.  Wells and fountains had always been a major fixture of all human settlements.  In fact, in most settlements, they were the first things built, but meal stands were a relatively recent invention, and were responsible for most of Troma's wealth.

About five hundred years before, each town had basically had its own farmlands and grazing land for its livestock, regardless of what else the people of the town did for a living, but since the last big war, very few towns could produce enough food to survive, and even before the war, each town had basically needed to make do with whatever kinds of food could be grown effectively in the local climate.  The meal stands had made those problems obsolete, however.

At the time, a technique had been developed, which allowed a skilled jerah master to send physical matter to another town almost instantly, even if it was dozens of kilometers away.  Thanks to that technique, a network was soon set up, and the jerah master of each town would assist in the trade of food supplies with the others.  People had been sending messages to other towns through jerah techniques for centuries, but it was only in the last few hundred years that they'd been able to do the same with food.  Troma and a few other small towns scattered throughout the kingdom grew most of the food from then on, trading it through the central hub of the castle by way of their town jerah master.  After that, messages were exchanged between all the other towns, and the food was traded all across the land from there.  Virtually everything else that the people of Troma could afford came from the food they grew there.

Meal stands had been around since long before Don had been born, so he usually took them for granted, but they made regular meals easy to prepare and acquire, made a variety of foods available to everyone in the whole country of Gram, and most importantly, even during the worst famines, no one had to worry about going hungry.

Of course, meal stands weren't required to have tables outside, but most of them did anyway, because it made the whole process a lot more convenient.  People could go to the local stand, pick up a meal, eat it, and go back to what they were doing.  Not only that, but it made the stands a perfect spot to stop and talk with friends.  That, it seemed, was basically what the knight had in mind, as he seated himself at one of the tables near the outside of the local meal stand, and encouraged Don to do the same.

Don sat down as directed, but after that, he just stayed there; motionless and silent for several seconds, waiting and watching as the knight drained his cup, and put it back down on the table, then looked at Don curiously for a moment.

"Nice to meet you, by the way." the knight said, as if he were just trying to be friendly, "My name's Mark Richards."

"Don Deley." Don muttered in confusion, still not sure what was going to happen next.

"I like that name." Mark noted, though he wasn't looking happy at all, "It sounds strong and responsible."

When the knight had said that, however, Don started to feel pretty bad.  Strength and responsibility were, unfortunately, his least outstanding traits.  It had been a while since he'd felt like the people in his life could really count on him.  In fact, that was his main reason for wanting to be a knight.  He didn't want to be weak or undependable anymore.

However, when the knight spoke up again, he sounded much less pleased, and much sterner.  There was even a little bit of anger in his voice as he talked to the young boy from Troma.

"I have to ask, though; when you saw us in battle the other day, was our sword technique really all you noticed?"

Don was very confused by that question.  He didn't really know what Mark was trying to get at, exactly, so he just decided to recite the things that he had noticed at the time.

"Well, you all rode on horseback really well..." Don began, listing off the things about the fight that had seemed important to him, "I saw how you moved; all with one battle plan.  Then, at the end, I saw you counting up the bodies to be sure you'd got them all."

"The body count is an age-old tradition." Mark explained in response to the boy's implied question, "It's not just to keep track of them, although that is the main reason, but if there are any other problems in town, we can sometimes be alerted to them if we find that there are too few or too many bodies present."

"That's not what I wanted to talk to you about, though." the knight continued, abandoning the subject where it lay, "Have you graduated from school yet?"

"Almost." Don replied, "I took my math exam today.  If I pass it, I'll graduate."

Mark nodded in reply to that, though he didn't try to smile.  It seemed like there was something very serious that he needed to talk to Don about.

"In that case, you're about the right age to enlist, if you want to become a knight yourself."

"Huh?" Don asked, suddenly feeling confused by that man's words, "Wait a minute.  Do you mean I can just enlist to some kind of a knight corps?"

"No.  Of course not." the knight replied, with a bit of a chuckle, as he realized the mistake he'd made in choosing his words, "Knights are chosen for their talent.  There's only one sure way to become one, and that's by excelling."

Don still wasn't sure what Mark was saying.  His statements were much too vague to tell Don what he needed to know, so he started asking questions again, in confusion and worry, hoping that he might get at the knight's real message if he just kept trying to understand.

"I thought that you were..." Don started to say, though he wasn't quite sure how to put his question into words, "I mean, didn't the knights already defeat the ghouls?"

"Ah, that's right." Mark said, smiling a little, as he heard that question, "You were asking me why I'm still here.  I guess I could answer that question.  Is there any pressing threat to Troma right now?  Probably not.  Even so, it's standard procedure to leave one knight behind after driving away an invading force, just in case there are any that we missed the first time.  I'll stay here in town until this evening, then I'll head back.  Besides, I thought that we might run into each other again, and you obviously want to become a knight yourself."

However, Don found that remark more confusing than anything else the knight had said, and he had one question which, above all others, was bursting to get out.

"I don't get it." Don exclaimed, "Why do you care so much about what happens to me?  I mean, if I never become a knight, would it really make that much difference to you?"

Mark looked a little crestfallen when Don asked him that, but after looking down at the table for a few seconds, he started to make his reply.

"The truth is," the man said sadly, "the knights and armies of the crown don't have an easy job, and there have been times when we've just needed to cut our losses when we knew we couldn't win.  Yesterday's battle went really well.  It's almost never that easy.  In fact, on the whole, we've been a lot less successful than most people realize.  Frankly, the knights of Gram need all the support they can get, and you're obviously very driven and spirited.  It wouldn't surprise me if you did wind up becoming a knight, and I'd feel better if I knew the new generation of knights had your kind of boldness behind them."

Don found Mark's reply very surprising, but there was no questioning the truth of his words.  Mark, at least, was desperate for all the help he could get.  That was the only reason he needed for encouraging Don and anyone else in their dreams of knighthood.

"So..." Don said, an eagerness sweeping across his features once again, and his trust in Mark growing with every passing second, "how did you become a knight?"

"What difference does that make?" Mark asked, looking more surprised than upset, though after a moment, he just answered, "Well, anyway, I excelled in my duties in the army, and was offered the position of knight at that point, although I'm sure that your method will be different from mine."

"Huh?" Don asked, once again confused by Mark's words, and starting to get a little frustrated by the way he talked, "What do you mean?"

"Becoming a knight isn't like farming, smithing or medical work." Mark replied seriously, "People don't just train to become a knight, then go out and get the position.  All knights are appointed by a member of the royal family, and that only happens when the person has demonstrated finely-honed strength, speed, endurance, and skill in both armed and unarmed combat, as well as other physical skills.”

“In short, if a person achieves some notoriety for themselves because of their outstanding physical abilities, the chances are much greater of them becoming a knight.  That's just how it's worked for years.  I started out in the army.  I wanted to be a general, but when the king offered me knighthood, I couldn't refuse.  Other knights have started in other fields.  We have former guards, blacksmiths, carpenters... even a cook.  If you want to be a knight, only one thing matters; excellence."

"Of course, in the past, there were other ways to become a knight..." Mark continued, looking contemplative, as if trying to recall some ancient lesson, "Oh, yes.  That's right.  There was a test; a pilgrimage.  The crown insisted on it, until about fifty years ago, when they started accepting knights based on skill alone."

"What kind of pilgrimage?" Don asked in awe, his irritation having faded away almost completely, to make room for his eager craving for more information about knighthood.

Mark looked distracted for a few moments, as if he was trying hard to think of something he'd forgotten, but finally, he seemed to just give up.

"I'm sorry." the knight captain replied at last, "I don't remember.  I guess a pilgrimage all over Gram, but it doesn't come up much, because there are only three knights still alive who ever completed the whole thing.  At the moment, the crown sees it as kind of a dated tradition.  I guess they must have thought it was important back then, though.  I don't really know much about the pilgrimage, except that most people who made the attempt wound up dying along the way.  The lands outside the towns and settlements of Gram have always been extremely dangerous.  That's why most traveling nowadays is done by jerah transmission, or on horseback with an armed escort.  I think the only reason the knights were selected differently back then was because nobody ever felt safe unless they'd already proven they could survive the worst the world could throw at them.  Eventually, though, the crown had to come up with a less-dangerous alternative.  Nobody wants people throwing their lives away."

Of course, the pilgrimage did sound dangerous, but to Don, that only made it seem that much more fascinating.  He, after all, had been in no small amount of danger just the day before, and he'd been afraid, but something about it had also felt right, as if facing down the claws of the enemy on the very edge of life and death was all that he'd really wanted his whole life.  When he realized just how that danger had felt, Don knew that he could face it if he had to, as long as he had a chance to reach the dream he'd always had.

However, without knowing more about the pilgrimage, there was only so much that Don could do.  He couldn't even make his decision properly unless he knew what he was deciding between, and Mark had already said that he barely knew anything about it himself.  It was a little unnerving, but for the moment, Don knew that he'd just have to proceed as if he'd never heard of the archaic knight-training process.

"Can't you give me any kind of advice?" Don asked finally, feeling a little disappointed by the whole conversation.

For a few moments, Mark looked sad; almost ready to shrug in resignation, as if he had nothing more that he could recommend to Don, but soon, he seemed to have realized that by that point, the boy was desperate for any kind of advice, and there was nothing to be lost by giving him some, no matter how disappointing or pedestrian the advice might seem.

"For now, my advice is to do what you have to to become stronger and more skilled.  As for skills that you should focus on..." Mark paused for a second to think about it, then finally continued, though he didn't seem entirely sure of himself when he gave his answer, "It's hard to say which skills are most important, but knights have to deal with battles, and with peaceful times.  They also have to master all three parts of their essence; body, mind and soul.  My advice is to try to excel in anything that strengthens your muscles, sharpens your mind, improves your reflexes, or benefits you spiritually.  There are a lot of skills that have been helpful to knights in the past; sprinting, dodging, unarmed combat, careful observation... even climbing can be useful under certain conditions.  Focus on being the best you can be in all those areas, and keep training.  That's the best advice I can give you."

Don found Mark's answer annoying, mainly because it was just as vague as everything else he'd said.  In fact, he was feeling so frustrated, that he barely even gave the older man a nod as he left the meal stand and started back for home.  However, by the time he got back on the road again, he was coming to a realization.

The skills that Mark had mentioned; the ones that he'd said might be helpful were almost never practiced in Troma.  There were many ways to improve one's strength and reflexes out in the fields, but the knight had only mentioned one skill that sounded like it could be learned in Don's hometown.  It was even more reinforcement for his plan to leave Troma, although, he realized with a smile, he might be able to learn just a few usable skills before he left.



Don was still feeling a little sad, and unsure of what to do next as he headed for home.  It was almost lunchtime, after which he'd be expected to help his father out around the house, which he'd always found a little frustrating, because chores like those hadn't seemed likely to prepare him for knighthood, but before he was even halfway home, he heard another voice that he recognized, telling him to wait.

It was the voice of Sharon, and although Don didn't know what she wanted, he slowed down to give her the chance to catch up.  In only a few more seconds, she'd caught her breath, and was starting to speak to him.

"Who was that guy you were talking to?" Sharon asked in amazement, "Was he one of the knights?"

"Yeah..." Don replied, not daring to look Sharon in the eyes, "He wanted to give me some advice."

"What kind of advice?" Sharon asked, obviously a little worried, so Don quickly gave her a brief summary of what Mark had told him.  In the end, she didn't seem any less concerned by all she'd heard, and for a moment, she looked away from him again, making no effort at all to make eye contact.

"Don..." Sharon said, after just a few seconds, "I'm worried about you.  You just...  It seems like you want to keep putting yourself in danger, and I'm not sure why.  I understand that you want to be a knight, but do you really have to take big risks like that?  All this nonsense about a pilgrimage, and lots of people risking their lives to..."

"Sharon..." Don interrupted her, but he wasn't able to continue.  He'd wanted to respond in anger; to tell her that people didn't risk their lives for no reason; that danger was out there, whether she liked it or not, and that the pilgrimage was definitely not nonsense, but he knew that he couldn't have said those things to her.  Finally, he just sighed, and tried to stay calm as he continued.

"I could explain it, if I had to." Don said at last, however, "I could tell you how it makes me feel, realizing that the fields in Gram are littered with trash like those ghouls that invaded town yesterday.  I could tell you about all the people who died because of monsters like that, but I don't think it would help.  Let me put it this way; let's say I don't try to become a knight and fight the enemy like they do.  Let's say nobody does.  In fifty years, there wouldn't be any more knights.  If that happened, then one monster could march right up to the south side of town, bash open the door to your house, and kill you and everyone you care about, because nobody would be ready to fight it.  Is that the kind of life you want?  Do you want to have to run and hide all the time?"

"I just don't want you to get hurt!" Sharon exclaimed, losing her cool, as Don gradually poked holes in her argument, "I know how important the knights are, but...  Why does it have to be you?  Why do you have to leave Troma and become a knight?  Why can't it be somebody else?"

There was no replying to that kind of question, though.  After a few moments of just standing there in silence, Don knew that there was nothing else to say.  Each of them clearly knew where the other stood, and neither was budging an inch.

That was why, in the end, he left Sharon that day, without saying another word, returning home for the afternoon.  As much as she'd helped comfort him in the past, when it came down to it, he couldn't do anything to return the favor at all.



That night, Don's chores seemed particularly hard, probably because Sal was still upset with him, and worried that he'd never stop rushing into danger.  Usually, when Don's father gave him more chores than usual, that was his reason, whether he was willing to admit it or not.  That night, he seemed to be doing everything around the house; cleaning, scrubbing, washing, and even buying supper from the meal stand, and drawing water.

Don didn't see Mark at the meal stand later in the evening, which wasn't too surprising.  That probably meant that he'd already left, to return to Gelem Castle.  Still, it wasn't as if he could have taught Don anything else.  Mark hadn't really known much about the best way to reach the goal of knighthood, and he'd willingly admitted it a number of times.

Earlier in the day, Don had been disappointed in the knight's advice, because it had seemed too vague and general, but while he stopped at the meal stand, he spent a little more time thinking about it, and as he did, a few things started to make more sense.  Granted, the skills that Mark had recommended weren't easy to obtain, but some parts of the knight's advice were fairly simple to follow.  Focusing on improving his body, mind and soul, for instance, was a good bit of advice, which wasn't too complicated.

Most of the tasks that Don performed in his own life; his chores, his schoolwork and even his leisure time activities could, with just a slight change of attitude, be made into tests of his own ability.  If he thought about his chores the right way, he knew that he could make them speed training.  Carrying food and water could be strength training, and cooking could help to improve patience; a virtue of the soul.

As Don realized all of that, however, a smile finally started to spread across his face.  At first, he'd been sure that Mark's advice wasn't useful at all, but actually trying to take that advice, it seemed, would be a massive challenge.

There were still skills that Don didn't have; skills he needed to learn, but what really mattered was that he knew he could still improve, and he finally knew how.  He was sure that there were a lot of ways for him to make progress towards his ultimate goal, and he was already making plans towards it.  It was just what he'd really been looking for; the thing he'd risked his life to find.  Don Deley finally had a sense of direction.



The red-haired boy was feeling a lot better on the following day, as he headed off to school, and was told, much to his delight, that he'd finished his math exam perfectly, which meant that he was a graduate of Troma's school system.  He had all the basic information that a person needed to find work.  All that was left, he was told, was to choose a career, and find himself an apprenticeship, although that was bound to be the hard part, since he knew he didn't want any typical careers.  Still, there was a chance that he might be able to learn some useful skills from a non-military apprenticeship, so he wasn't feeling as frustrated as he had been on the day before.

However, before being sent home, Don was told that he had one last assignment to do, and that he'd be given that assignment by a man named Bill Vincent, who was waiting in the meeting room next to the headmaster's office.  Don wasn't crazy about the idea of having another assignment after graduation, but he went to the appointed room, regardless, eager to get that stage of his life over with, so that he could get to work on training for knighthood; then maybe even leave home and do some traveling.  After all, by law, he was an adult the moment he graduated from school, which meant that he had the right to travel by himself if he wanted to, and for the first time, his father's objections wouldn't mean a thing.

The person who Don saw when he first entered the meeting room, however, didn't seem like the type who'd be eager to help him out.  He was medium-height, with thin, blond hair, and a pleasant smile on his face.  His hands were rough from field work, and there was no sign of the well-hardened look that Mark had had in his eyes.  Don knew immediately that the person in front of him had never fought in a battle in his life, and probably wouldn't understand the boy's feelings.  Still, an assignment was an assignment, and as long as it didn't involve a long-term commitment, he was willing to go through with it.

"Hello." the man said, standing up to shake Don's hand as he entered the room, “Bill Vincent.  It's nice to meet you."

"Don Deley." Don replied, feeling, for just a moment, as if he was being examined for weak spots, like an old apple, but the feeling passed quickly, and after a few seconds, he decided to just ask the expected question.

"So, what's the assignment I'm supposed to complete?"

Bill's smile broadened, as he sat back down, and invited Don to sit across from him at the table.  He didn't sit, but it didn't seem to bother the older man at all.

"Well, it's nothing too hard." Bill said, still smiling, "Now that you're done with school, all you have to do is get used to the idea of apprenticeships, and the best way to do that is to try one out for a day.  That's your assignment.  I have a number of names and addresses here..."

As Bill said that, he pointed to a collection of parchment slips, which lay on the table in front of him, each with a name and address written on it, just as he'd said.  Also written under each was a job title, such as "orchard keeper," "salesman," "farmer" and "carpenter."  Sure enough, no knights had made the list.

"All you have to do," Bill continued, "is pick one of these, and go to the address on the paper.  I talked to all of those people personally, and they said they'd love to have a little extra help with their work.  You just have to take one of these sheets, go to the address listed on it, and work there for about an hour, to see whether you like the job, and what kinds of skills you can learn from it.  That's it.  You don't even have to come back here afterwards."

Don wasn't feeling enthusiastic about the idea, because none of the listed jobs had anything like what he wanted to do, but after thinking about it for a second or two, he remembered the skills that he still needed to master; the skills that Mark had told him had been helpful to knights in the past.  When he thought about the proposed jobs in that light, there was one that looked ideal.

Quickly, Don reached for the parchment that was near the right end of the table; the one labeled "orchard keeper."