Hearing Lord Jetir's words struck a huge mental blow to Boro. He had resented his father, but only for his role in the fall of his family. In truth, Boro still loved and idolized his father for his legendary skill and strength. His goal to be the greatest blade master was to restore his family name and honor; a large part of that goal was so that people no longer said Bora the Bold's name with spite. How could he not want to be like the man he so admired, the father that he loved and hated too?
Boro's mother spent much of his childhood, after Bora's disgrace, telling Boro that his father was a great man and that if he could have done things differently, then he would have. She was convinced that he did the best he could to protect Galaos and bring about peace. But no amount of well speaking could fill the hole left in her when he had died and they had become destitute. That angered Boro even more, because his mother was the kindest and most gentle person he had ever met, she did not deserve to pay for the mistakes of her husband. All of this made for a confusing mess of emotion, and left Boro with such conflicted feelings towards his father.
Now, however, after hearing Lord Jetir's words, Boro knew that the nobleman was right. That the state of Galaos was the fault of every person who stood by and allowed the King to become corrupted and power hungry. The beautiful image he held of his father in his mind, Bora standing with his sword raised to the heavens, light shining down on him, shattered like the most fragile glass. To be replaced with his father on his kneels crying into his hands, while surrounded by a field of corpses. Even worse, the image of himself that he had been shaping since his boyhood, had shattered as well.
He was no hero, no man of virtue and honor. How could he be, when all he cared for was himself. Unbiddened, his thoughts went back to the lives he took in the woods. They might still be alive if not for this Lord before him, if not for his father, and if not for his own foolish pride. What might this world have been like if this man, and his father too, had stopped for just a moment and thought of all the pain and suffering their wars had caused. How many people might still have lived had they stopped the King from persuing a war of "unity".
In that moment, Boro interrupted the Lords story, something he most certainly would not have done had he been in a less emotionally charged state of mind.
"Lord Jetir, you have no need to convince me further. You are right, though your words bring me great pain, they also bring me great clarity. You have my sword and my word that I will fight with you." Boro stood and slammed his right fist into his left palm and pressed them to his chest, saluting his new Lord.
With a audible sigh of relief Lord Jetir nodded to Boro acknowledging his deference and then stood up and walked around the table. He streched out his hand, and motioned for Boro to hand him his blade. He drew his sword from it's scabbard, the sound it made was like the sound of city bells chiming for the first morning hour, a single clear Sssshhrrunngg, and offered him the sword hilt first.
"Kneel, Boro Malus, son of Bora The Bold Malus" Boro did as he was told, swiftly dropping to one knee in front of Lord Jetir. "From this moment onward, until your service is completed, you are given the rank of Major Knight. You will be my strong right arm, and my eyes where mine can not be." he tapped Boro on his head, then once on each shoulder, and finally, pressed the tip of the blade gently to Boro's heart.
Excitement filled Boro's racing heart. Lord Jetir, who was technically a major noble, but only a minor lord, still held considerable power, and had just used that power to raise Boro to minor nobility. Furthermore, with the rank of Major Knight, Boro was basically a general, albeit without an army. He stood below only major nobility right now.
"In addition to this rise in rank I will also award you access to all the resources Helfa can offer. I will ask my steward to write you a missive so you may withdraw money in my name when you have need of it." Lord Jetir grabbed Boro's shoulders and pulled him up to his feet. " Lastly, I give you a very important task, one that will be instrumental to the success of our rebellion."
Lord Jetir paused, looking into Boro's eye, "I need to you raise and recruit others to our cause Sir Boro" Using Boro's new title made Boro swell with pride. "I need you to do this quietly, for we are not in a position to announce our intentions yet. The people you recruit must be loyal to this cause. We can not have a traitor knowing our plans."
Boro nodded his understanding but suddenly anxiety filled him, "My liege, where will I find such people? How can I know if they are trustworthy or not?"
"I will also have my steward make a list of possible allies for you to investigate, weather or not they prove worthy of trust I will have to leave to you. I am too old to go out recruiting myself, so like you will, I will have to trust now, i will have to trust in you"
So Boro and Lord Jetir sat back down and began to talk over potential allies and where to find them. After summoning the steward, they began, in full, planning out their rebellion.
By the time they finished, it was dark again, and Boro had worked up quite the appetite. He walked through the halls of the mansion, and had a thought to go back to The Golden Goose and try to seek out Isbella but at the end of the hall leading to his chambers, leaning against the wall besides the door to Boro's room, was Littume. He seemed to be waiting for Boro. His face a mask of unreadable emotions. When he spotted Boro he immediately jumped and stood at attention.
Boro let out a sigh, he knew he'd have to deal with Littume again before he left. He just hadn't expected it to be tonight. His thoughts briefly turned to Isbella, yearning to seek her out, before he continued walking towards his room and Littume.
"Bor-, Mast-, Sir Boro" Littume stumbled over Boro's name and title, clearly nervous, and gave a similarly awkward bow.
I guess word has spread quickly of my rise in rank, Boro thought almost amused at the nobles attempts at properly showing Boro deference. More than amused, however, Boro felt surprised. Littume clearly was referring to Boro as someone of greater station then his own, which was just not the case. Even being Major Knight, he still stood far below Littume, who did not even have a major title.
"Lord Littume, what can I do for you" Boro said, returning the bow, with one of his own.
Littume looked at Boro, his hands nervously rubbing together, "Sir Boro, I would like to apologize for my actions, and those of my companions and guards." He bowed again, this time not clumsily at all, and even lower then the first. "As the future Lord of Helfa I beg you for forgiveness. My actions were rash, foolish, and childish; I fully deserved the defeat you gave me Sir"
If Boro had been shocked before, now he was simply flabbergasted. This was the last thing he had ever expected to happen tonight. Still, Boro collected himself and pushed Littume upright again.
"There is no need for this Lord Litt-" Before Boro could finish speaking Littume stopped him.
"Sir Boro, please, just call me Littume, or even Lite, as my friends do" He spoke earnestly. "There is every need for this as well, I have brought dishonor to myself and my family by my actions and I mean to make up for that."
Bowing low again the young lord did yet another thing Boro did not see coming, "Please Sir Boro, take me on as your apprentice, teach me further in the blade and in honor so I never shame myself again"