Now that Luke was out, he couldn't believe he let one more thought pass him. It was the thought about earning money. Luke had been so focused on finding a way to Virencia that he forgot about everything else. Typical men. They can multitask, but if their mind is set on one thing, anything else doesn't matter. Thinking about returning to the tavern again, Luke felt a bit embarrassed to do so, since he was just there earlier. But then, how else was he going to find a way to work and earn money?
Before Luke knew it, he was wandering in front of the barracks. Since it was early morning, the sound of grunting and men shouting caught his attention. As such, Luke made his way in, following the sounds he heard. As the noise grew louder, Luke found himself passing to the right of the corridor, leading to the training field. There, the source of the sounds became clear: knights, though not in full armour, were training vigorously. Luke watched them vault onto tigers, perform somersaults, climb walls, and run long distances. From a distance, Luke recognized Sir Carrick.
Although Sir Carrick was not in his usual armour, Luke could easily recognize his face. Making his way toward him, Sir Carrick noticed Luke approaching. He then shouted to his knights to continue their routine, as he moved to greet Luke.
"Good morning, Luke," Sir Carrick said with a welcoming smile. "What brings you here so early?"
"I was just curious about what was happening here," Luke replied, looking around at the bustling activity on the training field.
"This is our usual training routine," Sir Carrick explained. "We keep ourselves in top shape to protect Purewood and its people. Every knight here goes through rigorous exercises daily to maintain their skills and stamina."
Luke nodded, fascinated by the display of discipline and strength. An idea began to form in his mind.
"Do you think there's any way I could help out around here? I'm looking to earn some money, and I thought maybe there might be something I can do."
"There might be something for you. We always need extra hands for various tasks around the barracks. It won't be glamorous work, but it will be honest, and you'll earn your keep," Sir Carrick considered this for a moment, then nodded.
"I'd be grateful for any work you can give me," Luke felt a surge of relief.
"Come with me," Sir Carrick said, leading Luke toward a group of knights who were taking a break. "Let's find you something to do."
Sir Carrick led Luke toward a quieter part of the training field where an elderly man was diligently cleaning swords and armour. The man looked up as they approached, pausing in his work.
"Luke, this is Eamon," Sir Carrick introduced the elderly man. "He's been with us for years, keeping our equipment in top condition. Eamon, this is Luke. He's looking to earn some money and wants to help out. Can you show him the ropes?"
"Of course, Sir. Come on, lad, I'll show you what needs to be done," Eamon nodded with a warm smile.
With that, Sir Carrick returned to overseeing the training exercises, and Eamon guided Luke to a bench where various pieces of armour and swords were laid out.
"First things first, Luke. We need to ensure everything is clean and in good condition. A knight's equipment is crucial, and we can't afford any mistakes."
Luke nodded, eager to learn. Eamon handed him a rag and a bottle of oil.
"Start with this sword. Wipe it down thoroughly and then apply a thin layer of oil to keep it from rusting."
As Luke got to work, Eamon continued.
"I've been doing this for nearly twenty years now. It's not glamorous, but it's important. Without well-maintained equipment, the knights wouldn't stand a chance out there."
"I'm grateful for the opportunity. To be honest, I need the money. I'm planning to go to the Empire of Virencia," Luke glanced at the elderly man, admiring his dedication.
"Virencia, eh? That's quite the journey. What's taking you there?" Eamon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.
"I'm hoping to find Saint Cynthia," Luke replied, carefully applying the oil to the sword. "Gareth told me she might have answers about my trouble."
"Saint Cynthia, the living embodiment of our faith. That's a noble quest. But remember lad, sometimes the answers we seek aren't always the ones we find," Eamon nodded thoughtfully.
They continued working in companionable silence for a while, exchanging small talk as they moved from one piece of equipment to the next. Luke learned that Eamon had once been a knight himself, forced to retire due to an injury. Despite the humbling turn of events, Eamon had found a way to remain part of the brotherhood.
"I got a genuine question though, Luke?" Eamon asked as they polished a set of armour. "Why take on this boring work when you could do something else?"
"It may not be as glamorous as you say, but it's honest work. And I need to start somewhere. Plus, it's a way to earn my keep without relying too much on the cathedral's kindness," Luke shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.
"You've got a good head on your shoulders, lad. Keep at it, and you'll do just fine," Eamon chuckled.
As the morning wore on, Luke found himself falling into a rhythm, the repetitive motions of cleaning and polishing becoming almost meditative. The simple, honest work was a far cry from his previous life of struggle and uncertainty. Here, among the knights and their equipment, he felt a sense of purpose beginning to take root.
What felt like an eternity later, the swords and armour were finally shining and polished to perfection. Eamon inspected the last piece, nodding with satisfaction. "Good work, lad," he said, wiping his hands on a rag.
"Now, you should go find Sir Carrick about your payment. I need to clean up here before I leave."
Luke insisted on helping, but Eamon interjected.
"I've got my way of arranging things. If you put something in the wrong place, I might think it's missing and get hotheaded. Best leave it to me."
Seeing the sense in Eamon's words, Luke left the cleaning area and set off in search of Sir Carrick. As he walked through the barracks, he heard the sound of excited voices and clashing wood. Following the noise, he found a group of knights gathered around a sparring ring, watching intently.
To Luke's surprise, Sir Carrick, with a wooden sword in hand, was sparring against Gareth. Luke's heart skipped a beat. Wasn't Gareth still healing? Why was he participating in such a rigorous activity? But as he watched, it became clear that Gareth was moving with caution, favouring his healing leg and maintaining a defensive stance.
Sir Carrick, on the other hand, held his wooden sword with one hand, clearly giving himself a handicap. His swings were measured and controlled, lacking the force they would have had with both hands. It wasn't boasting; it was a calculated move to match Gareth's current capability.
The surrounding knights cheered for both combatants, their encouragement mixed with banter. Luke heard Gareth call out.
"Is that the best you've got, old man? Your age must be catching up with you!"
"And here I thought you were supposed to be a knight, Gareth. You've barely earned that title, and already you're taking it easy on me?" Sir Carrick laughed, deflecting Gareth's strike with ease.
The knights roared with laughter, enjoying the spirited exchange. Gareth grinned, his eyes flashing with determination.
"I'd hate to embarrass you too much, Sir Carrick. You might lose your edge."
"Careful, boy. Your overconfidence might be your downfall," Carrick smirked, his wooden sword striking swiftly, forcing Gareth to step back.
The back-and-forth continued, with Gareth holding his ground despite his injury. The knights around them cheered louder, their camaraderie evident in the light-hearted jabs and supportive shouts.
Luke watched, captivated by the display of skill and the evident respect between the two men. Despite the playful insults, a deep bond and mutual respect were underlying their sparring. It was a stark reminder of the brotherhood shared among the knights, a sense of belonging and purpose that Luke yearned to be a part of.
As the sparring match continued, Luke's admiration for Gareth and Sir Carrick grew. He realized that, despite the challenges and hardships, this was the kind of strength and camaraderie he wanted to find in his journey. And perhaps, with determination and hard work, he too could earn a place among these honourable men.
The match eventually drew to a close, with Sir Carrick landing a light tap on Gareth's healing leg, signalling his victory. The knights erupted into applause, cheering for both their comrades. Gareth, panting but smiling, shook Sir Carrick's hand firmly, their mutual respect clear in the gesture.
"Targetting my hurting leg, that's cheating."
"Did you forget the rule of knighthood? Always aim for the weak spots" Sir Carrick raised his eyebrows a few times, joking with his treasured young knight.
As the crowd began to disperse, Sir Carrick noticed Luke standing on the outskirts. He beckoned Luke over with a nod and a smile.
"Ah, Luke, just the man I was looking for," he said. "Come, let's settle your payment. I'll be asking Eamon how you performed on the task, and if it's to his liking, I might have you here again."
With that, they walked together towards the armoury, leaving behind the lively echoes of the sparring ring and the camaraderie of the knights, a world that Luke was slowly but surely becoming a part of.