The Crafter's Son: Book One of the Exciting New Coming of Age Epic Fantasy Series, The Crafter Chronicles by Matthew Berg

Author:Matthew Berg [Berg, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0978579127
Publisher: Woodfall Press
Published: 2019-12-05T22:00:00+00:00

19

Bystanders

The three boys exited the south end of the monastery and cut across the keep’s enormous garden, skirting the hedge maze that occupied the centermost ring of the garden’s concentric circles, and approached the stables and training yard where they knew Laudan would be serving his punishment. As they turned the northwest corner of the stable, they were met with an unexpected sight.

Laudan was there, but so were all the instructor knights and sergeants-at-arms. And Laudan wasn’t marching with a spear as he had been for the last two days. Instead, he was standing in the middle of a circle of the sergeants, with his arms extended straight out from his body and parallel to the ground. He was holding a small rock, about the size of an apple, in each hand. Even at seventeen years old, he was equal in height to many of the men surrounding him, and taller than some. But he still looked all the boy in the presence of such a rough and hardened group of soldiers. Beyond the ring of sergeants, three knights stood in a small cluster, conversing among themselves. And a fourth knight walked slowly around the circle, occasionally issuing words to the sergeants, or perhaps Laudan—Breeden couldn’t be sure.

Breeden and the others had stopped when they realized that something unusual was occurring, and they were still about thirty yards away. Kestrel whistled low. “He’s in a world of it!”

Breeden looked around and could see no other squires, or anyone else for that matter. “Can we go closer?” He felt he knew the answer was no, but maybe Kestrel might think it okay.

But Kestrel confirmed his opinion. “I’d say not. That doesn’t look like a welcoming committee.”

Breeden gestured toward the pavilion, and Kestrel considered for a moment before finally shrugging his shoulders. “I suppose they can always tell us to leave.” And the three of them changed their course and angled toward the jousting lists and the wooden spectators’ platform that straddled both fields.

Once perched above the field, Kestrel, Oskar, and Breeden were slightly closer to their friend than they had been a moment before, but they were now less conspicuous and also had a better view of the proceedings.

Laudan was obviously exhausted, and his arms kept trying to drop from the weight of the stones he held. He would hold steady for a while, perhaps as long as half a minute, and then his arms would lower ever so slowly, twitching back into position when he realized he was slipping. Breeden didn’t know how long Laudan had been charged with holding the position, but he was obviously at a point where he was losing the battle. And each time his arms did drop, one of the sergeants would lean into the boy’s face and scream at him to resume his position.

And then, a handful of minutes after Breeden and the others had arrived, Laudan’s arms began to shake. The shaking was somewhat subtle at first but grew to a pronounced and spasmodic jerking of his arms.

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