A day passed by without much excitement. Training had gone fairly smoothly. Joon had been able to avoid Sir Gareth's ire, bar Arlan's involvement. The other Knights kept their distance. Even Marcus had left him alone, for the most part. Still, there was no denying the tension radiating from Sir Gareth when he wasn't looking.
After the afternoon exercises, Sir Gareth lined them up again.
"He's dividing us up into squads," Arlan explained quietly. Or, quieter than he had when they had gotten caught. "For the patrols."
Joon nodded absently as he listened to Arlan speak. Something was bothering him. He'd seen it often enough. There was a gleam in Sir Gareth's eye when he looked at him. That gleam, he knew, meant the man was plotting something. What exactly, however, he had yet to determine.
"Alright. Here are the groups for this rotation," Sir Gareth announced, drawing their attention away from one another. His dark skin glowed warmly in the dying rays of the sun. "There will be twelve squads stationed here at the castle. Our other Knights stationed around Suneo are with their respective divisions, but we will handle the castle and its grounds." He paused, scanning the rest of the Knights' faces. "Six squads will patrol during the day, the other six at night. Day shifts are from 0600 to 1200, and 1200 to 1800. Night shifts are the rest. We'll divide responsibilities and assign shifts later." He took a step forward, peering through his black beard. "Is that understood, gentlemen?" Everyone agreed silently. Sir Gareth raised a finger. "Now, as for the squads themselves, we'll have six Knights in a squad— five guards and a Knight overseer."
Some of the Knights were nodding off, resting their heads against their weapons or leaning on the hilts. Joon was starting to doze off too, his eyes half closed despite himself. Sir Gareth's eye twitched.
"Sir Jarad?" he asked, directing his gaze toward one of the other knights. Sir Jarad, a tall, lean man with a long, white scar over his forehead, nodded in reply. "Wake these gentlemen up, please."
Sir Jarad nodded, stepping forward. His movements were smooth and graceful, his long blond hair flowing behind him. He raised the shield in his hands as well as his unsheathed sword, and banged them together with a CLANG. All of the Knights jerked awake, instantly alert as the ringing sound of metal rang out throughout the courtyard. Sir Jarad smiled. He held his sword out, arm straight.
"Stand at attention," he ordered, causing a flurry of activity among the Knights and Joon. He watched silently from his side, a smirk playing around his lips. He looked stunning in the setting sunlight. He nodded to Sir Gareth.
Sir Gareth said something under his breath, but Joon didn't catch it. "Gentlemen. Your assignments are as follows." He began to list the squads and their members, his eyes scanning across their faces as he went along. The Knights were listening intently, standing at full attention. Joon's gaze lingered on Sir Jarad a little longer than he should have done, and his mind was beginning to wander off when Sir Gareth finished speaking. "Knights Daeclan, Joon, Llew, Marcus, Samsher. You are with me. That is all. My squad— you may gather your things and meet me outside our quarters within the next hour," he told the remaining Knights. "You are dismissed."
"It's a shame we aren't in the same squad," Arlan whined, stretching. He grinned, that lazy smile flashing across his face. "We might have ended up fighting side by side at some point."
Joon shrugged noncommittally. "I guess," he murmured, yawning. He turned and followed the others to the barracks.
Arlan sighed. "Usually the groups are a bit better. I don't know what happened this time. It's like Sir Gareth chose all the stragglers and shoved them into one group."
Joon hummed thoughtfully, walking slowly behind him.
"I mean," he continued. "You and Marcus? In the same squad? It's like he's asking for trouble."
Joon shook his head, amused by Arlan's reaction. They were adults, after all. Patrolling would leave no time for childish games and rivalries.
"And the others? Daeclan? That lazy prick? And Llew and Samsher? You'll be in for a treat. One can't bear to see his shadow and the other goes off about regulations and codes all day."
Sounds like fun, he thought sarcastically.
Arlan stopped walking abruptly, turning to look at Joon sharply as they walked, clearly waiting for an answer. "Well? Don't you have anything to say about it?"
"About what?"
The golden-haired young man sighed. "About being stuck with those guys for a rotation. That's three months! I don't know how you'll do it."
He shook his head again, patting him softly on the back with a look of pity before entering his room in the Knights' Quarters.
Arlan huffed, tightening his grip on his belongings. "A good night to you too!"
***
Joon hadn't slept all night. Not a single wink. Which was crazy, because during the war, in the times when he didn't have a bed nor a blanket, he'd slept like a baby. Now, with a real bed and a solid roof over his head, he wasn't able to sleep at all. If it were for a serious reason, he probably wouldn't have been so annoyed. But it seemed Arlan had spoken some truth about his teammates.
A man with long, vibrant red hair— who he'd learned was Samsher the next morning— was fast asleep by the time Joon had settled into the bunk next to his following dinner. Snoring loudly, even. Joon could feel it vibrating through the floor. He shivered. Llew, who he'd met at dinner, had been shuffling and tossing all night in the bunk above his, muttering unintelligible words. Marcus had taken to staring at him all night from his top bunk across the room. Joon tried to pay him no attention.
As for Daeclan, he was the last to arrive and enter the room, late after midnight. Marcus had fallen asleep upright, arms crossed and head leaning back against the wall. As the door creaked open, a small sliver of light pooled near the door. Joon stirred and turned to see who the late-comer was. His heart jumped into his throat.
The man stared at him, blinking owlishly in the dim light, a pair of large, dark brown eyes meeting his own. He didn't move. His dark brown hair flopped over his shoulders in disarray, matted and tangled. His clothes hung limply off of his lean, muscular form. He was covered in dried blood that had made parts of his tunic stiff and rust-stained. He looked terrible.
Daeclan noticed Joon watching him curiously, and he flashed him a small grin. "Just a scratch," he whispered shortly, his index finger on his lips. His voice was hoarse. "I'm fine."
He stepped closer, stopping just in front of his empty bunk. Without warning, he collapsed onto it, lying there motionless for several seconds. Joon was fully awake, half-sure that he was dead. But then, Daeclan lifted his head and glanced back at him, giving him a tired smile.
"Not sleeping either? I'm Daeclan."
Joon nodded, looking at the hand extended toward him. He hesitated briefly before taking it. Their fingers intertwined awkwardly; the bandages wrapped around Daeclan's fingers were bulky. "Joon," he replied finally.
Daeclan let go and sat up again, running a shaky hand through his tangled brown locks. "New, right? Everyone's new, I guess. Trying to put things back together like they were before the war," he mumbled. A frown furrowed across his face as if something bothered him. "That reminds me. Where's my dagger?" he asked suddenly.
Joon furrowed his brows incredulously.
He stood up, brushing his hands against the sides of his pants. "My blade. I can't sleep without it."
Why would he want a blade? The Knights were not permitted to keep weapons in their quarters; they were kept outside, in their respective chests. Joon had heard rumors that it was for a good reason. Daeclan seemed to have been around for longer than he had. Shouldn't he have known this? Or did he simply not care?
"Found it," he exclaimed excitedly in a hushed tone, pulling it out from the bottom of his mattress. It was still sheathed. He sat down on his bunk and stroked it softly, pressing it to his nose and inhaling harshly.
Joon watched him warily. That was… odd. Very strange.
Daeclan turned his gaze to him, and smiled wickedly. "You won't tell, right?" He leaned forward, grinning widely. Joon shook his head in response. "Cool," he replied, leaning back in his bed and promptly falling asleep.
Joon didn't sleep a wink that night.