I awoke with my father standing above me. Did my family have no respect for sleep? I need a lock on my door.
"Wake up. Swordsmen are training troops this morning. You're going to help. Then you are needed at petitioning. It's fun being a future royal, isn't it?" My father's tone was sunny, making it brighter than it was outside.
Why must everything begin before dawn? I almost miss my training days. Almost.
As my father and I left our front door, two men fell in step behind us. They were the same castle guards that followed me home after I said my goodbyes to Cali and Alina the day before. Apparently they're mine now.
Four more men looked stationed around the exterior of our home. Is security supposed to make you feel uneasy? I never felt unsafe before. I also have never before been engaged to a princess either.
The words from the archer's scroll echoed in my head. Are you sure you are safe? No. I am not. But how often are you really sure of anything? Hopefully I'll feel safer once I see our clansmen in action.
We entered the castle grounds and proceeded to the open fields near the gardens. Many of my kin were already gathered there. I knew quite a few of them like Captain Gunnar, but many of the faces seemed unfamiliar to me. Men greeted me as I passed.
I grew up somewhat in the public eye. My father was known throughout the country as one of the Swordsmen. People recognized me for that simple fact. Although I was rarely acknowledged as myself, but rather "the son of the Swordsman of Stag". Funny how people know your name when they think you are coming into power.
Groups were forming along clan lines throughout the field. The warriors of Bear numbered few. That was to be expected since most of them lived far from court. My father called both the clan of Bear and the clan of Stag into one big block.
"Today we will practice sparring individual partners with swords. But before that, let's build up some endurance." My father led the drill. I knew what building up endurance meant to him. No one could fully prepare for his methods.
We started by running. Then lunging the same course. We then got to do crunches, push ups and leg lifts. We repeated the entire work out three times. My father and uncle took turns leading the pack. This was not because my father delegated the responsibility. Sibling rivalry was wrong in those two and they simply were neck and neck at wanting to finish first.
Although this endurance test was nothing I had not been forced through before, my body still aches. I suppose being a future royal was no reason for my father to let me go soft. There was a severe lack of grumbling about this work out for my taste. My comrades seemed to enjoy this kind of madness.
Finally my father agreed we had enough and gave us a break to allow us to rest before pairing off to spar. I headed over to my uncle and father, assuming I would receive my assignment on who to watch to instruct.
"Good run! I thought you had me there at the end." My father poked fun toward my uncle.
"It was a good one, especially since I did win in the end." My uncle completed the workout moments before my father. It would have been more entertaining to watch had I been allowed to do only that. Instead I heard the final victory cry while I was wrapping up my last set of lunges.
"Good job, Uncle John," I managed through labored breaths.
"There you are, Jack. We heard you coming from clear across the field. Maybe you need a bit more endurance training." I hoped my father was joking. I knew this workout was far from his hardest.
"I think this one suffices for today. Where do you want me next?" My heart stopped beating in my throat long enough for me to speak.
"You will find out your partner when everyone else does," My father's smirk confused me. Would I be fighting today? How was that 'helping' with training?
"Am I not helping a pair by instruction?" I hoped I misunderstood him just now.
"What better way to help than to lead by example?" My uncle smirked. Were these two trying to make me look like a fool in front of everyone?
"I guess we won't leave you in suspense too long." My father gathered the crowd he led. He started pairing off people by handing each partnership a pair of practice swords. Name after name was called. He saved me for last.
"Sir Jacobson and Captain Gunnar," my father finally said. Why did he pair me off with someone of such standing? How was this supposed to instill confidence in their future leader if I'm pummeled on the castle lawn?
Our other clansmen started their matches. With most men focused on their own fights, maybe no one would notice my inevitable failure. My uncle and father both gathered around to watch my match. My hopes for no witnesses vanished.
The red headed captain approached me. He extended his hand and I shook it. "Good luck," he said with a wink.
"You too," I stammered. We squared our shoulders off to each other while raising our blunted blades.
Captain Gunnar took the initiative to take the first swing. I blocked the swing from the left. Focusing on my footwork rather than offense, I slowly circled my opponent. I think I confused him by waiting for him to attack again. I was always better at defense.
He swung again and sparks flew. That time the hit was much harder, but my block held. The Captain gave me a half hearted grin.
Once more we circled each other. He thrust his sword with even more force. This time I caught him off guard. After I blocked his advance, I made my own. His block held, but I continued an onslaught of swings. There was very little grace to my movements but they were fast.
Somehow at the end of my attack, Gunnar backed up too far. He tripped on something in the grass and lost his footing. He fell onto his back. Somehow I won the match. Maybe I was not as bad with a sword as I thought.