Welcome the Knight #2 (working title)

“Paxton... Wake up Paxton... Paxton...” Gasping for breath, he sat up. He had been passing out too often. He felt cold but it looked like he had only been out for few minutes. He looked up and saw the tapestry. It looked the same as he first saw it. The man on the hill was just standing, with his mouth closed. The other man was firmly on the ground and he still had his arms out.

“Paxton, look at me. Are you all right? Do you understand me?” Merot was there next to him. Looking at him seriously. “Paxton?”

“Merot that tapestry, what is it of?”

“My word, boy! You just passed out and you’re asking about the decorations. How’s ‘bout I give you a little decoration on your face? Would you like that?” joked Merot lifting him off the ground.

Paxton grinned and said, “ Sorry. I’ve just been feeling a little off lately.”

“Well you scared the hair off my chest. I was just looking around then I turn and you were kinda swaying, then you just fell over,” said Merot in a quiet voice as they walked to the door. Paxton brushed off his clothes and took a last look over his shoulder at the painting. Just before he was out the door, he thought he saw the man on the hill turn his head a little. He thought he even heard words in his head, but that was probably just his imagination.

The air felt a little warmer outside. It seemed like every minute he got warmer. “So who lives in there anyway?” he asked, shaking away is goose bumps.

“Well the Duke, his wife, daughter, and his son Daven- he’s only four.”

“That’s it?” said Paxton shocked. He couldn’t believe only four people could need so much space let alone use it all.

“Oh no,” Merot said shaking his head. “There are a large number of knights as well. Then there are the training and teaching knights. The Commander stays in the castle along with all the pages and squires. You were lucky not to have met anyone else because normally this place is full of people running about.” Merot chuckled. “ The knights are out on the grounds training. There is more time this year because construction on the new barracks has finished. Everyone had to pitch in when building and it took a good four-five months. The Duke got new equipment for the barracks too. The pages are really getting the best training in the kingdom- besides the ones at the capital anyway.”

Being a knight sounded fun all of a sudden. Now he knew why Luther wanted to be one so bad. To think that he had wanted to stay with Uncle Marl and Aunt Kathy on the farm. He shuttered at the thought. He couldn’t be a farm boy forever.

“Hey!” someone shouted at him. “What are you doing? Don’t just laze about, get to the stables!” It was Morgan, the Dukes servant.

“Um...” Paxton didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to get in trouble so early, but he couldn’t find an excuse.

“Keep your trousers on Morgan. The boy just was asking where the stables were,” said Merot winking at him. “I just happened to be unloading boxes when he came.” Merot had saved him. Paxton gave Merot a thanking look and followed Morgan to the stables.

“The picks, brushes, and gear are all kept here,” said Morgan pointing to a empty stall. “And the food is kept over here,” she said, opening a side door.

“Okay,” Paxton said politely.

“And don’t think about stealing nothing either!”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Kitchen is over in the east part of the castle. Your room is in a building by the kitchen. The red one. Now that’s all you need to know,” the woman said, slamming the stable door as she left.

“Not very friendly is she,” Paxton said to the horses. They all whinnied at him.

Paxton left the stable in search of the kitchen. He was hungry and his talkative stomach scared some of the horses. He wasn’t quite sure where the kitchen was despite Morgan’s “Helpful” directions. So he just walked toward the building with all the smoke coming out of it.

The building was pretty big, but with so many people inside, it seemed small. “Looks like I’m not the only one looking for some food,” he said smiling. Paxton thought the scene before him was very funny. The kitchen staff were bustling about trying to prepare a meal for the nobles while all the servants from the march were grabbing the food the cooks kept on making. Every time a dish was finished and set down, it was gone by the time another dish was finished. This greatly angered the cooks who were threatening to bash people’s heads in with a pan if they didn’t back off. Which they didn’t.

With all the fuss going on inside, he just left to find his room. Taking a look around, he headed for the nearest red building.

“Hey!”

He turned around to see who was yelling at him now and saw a girl about his age holding a few rolls and running in his direction. The girl wore a servant’s uniform and had the sleeves rolled up. Her skin was pale, like she didn’t spend much time in the sun. Her hair was deep black and short. It reached to the top of her shoulders. Paxton also saw her eyes were just as dark, like a hole in starry night sky.

“Jeez! make me run all the way to you? You could have at least met me half way!” panted the girl. “I saw you in the kitchen, but you left without any food,” she said thrusting a roll at him. He accepted and ate half in one bite.

“So what’s your name?” the girl asked. He wanted to answer the beautiful girl, but his mouth was so full of bread he was afraid of spraying her with crumbs and half eaten roll if he opened his mouth.

“What, you deaf?” said the girl, getting annoyed. “I went out of my way to grab you some food, the least you could do is talk to me a bit!” The girl rolled her eyes and turned to walk away.

Paxton swallowed hard, coughed, and said, “Paxton, my name’s Paxton.”

“Ah, so you aren’t deaf after all.” She turned back to him and smiled, which got Paxton’s heart to skip a beat. The more he looked at her, the prettier she seemed.

“Well nice meeting you Paxton. See you around,” she said and took off for the kitchen.

“Wait!” he yelled. “You didn’t tell me your name!” But she had already disappeared into the throng of people.

“Thanks for the roll, “ he said, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him.

Paxton went about the rest of his day with a smile. Even when he had to clean out the horse stalls. Merot saw him smiling as he walked around doing his business and stopped him as he left the kitchen.

“Something’s going on. It is written across your face! Don’t lie to me boy!” Merot whispered harshly, poking his finger into Paxton’s chest. “It’s been your silly smile,” said Merot, starting to grin, “I know it’s a girl, so you best tell me who it is before I find out through less honorable ways.” Merot started to laugh at the lost look on the boy’s face.

“I’m jes’ playin’ wit’ ya boy. But I know that a lady is involved. I was young once too. You gonna keep me waiting all day? Who is it?” Merot finished, sitting down on a bag of flour.

“Gods Merot,” said Paxton, smoothing back his hair. “You frightened me there for a moment.”

Merot chuckled and said, “Sorry, couldn’t help it. Now stop evading my question and tell me about this girl.”

Paxton stood there for a moment, leaning against the kitchen wall with a dreamy look on his face. Merot threw a stone at him and Paxton finally responded, “Well, she wouldn’t tell me her name, but she works in the kitchen, that much I am sure of. Her face… It has burned itself into my memory… That smile!” Paxton sighed.

“Well what does she look like?” asked Merot, staring at the kitchen door.

“Well,” started Paxton, “she has short hair. It was dark, like the night sky. Same with her eyes, I could even see the twinkle of the stars in their deep expanses. She was pale, shorter than me, and had such an amazing smile…” Paxton continued to smile with a dreamy gaze.

“So… she probably looks sumtin like her then?” Merot pointed somewhere over his shoulder.

Paxton turned and saw the girl he had just adoringly described. She had that same big smile on her lips. Paxton looked at her and grinned, like in a dream, and then he realized what had happened. His face dropped dramatically and color rose in his face.

“Well, she sounds like a nice sort,” said Merot, turning red from his surpressed laughter. “I’ve had a long day Paxton, I think I’ll be off to bed.” Merot propped himself up and walked away, shaking his head and letting his laughter out.

Paxton stood there, his mouth hanging wide, wishing Merot would come back. He didn’t feel like being alone. But he wasn’t alone. There was his raven-haired temptress. He made a feeble attempt to laugh.

“Ha… hahaha…” This is incredibly awkward, Paxton thought. “Hello again.”

The girl slumped into Merot’s seat and said, “You’re weird.”

All of Paxton’s childish daydreams came crashing down in a ferocious storm. All of those flattering things he had said, and that she had accidentally heard, and she goes ahead and insults him. Such open bluntness.

“I went out of my way to be kind and generous about your description. Can’t you afford to at least say ‘Thanks’?” he said, attempting to regain some dignity.

“Oh please!” she scoffed. “ ‘Can’t you afford to at least say thanks?’”

“Are you mocking me?” Paxton asked, sitting across from the girl.

“Yes.”

Paxton smiled. The girl was humorous.

“I’m Rinka.”

“I’m Paxton.”

“I know,” she said, shaking her head at my glee. “You told me already.”

Paxton smacked himself mentally. He should be playing this smoothly and charmingly. “Right, well I’m tired,” he said, getting up. “Bye.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked off to his room.

The building was covered with a deep red paint. It covered every surface of the building except for the door, which was left a bright white. This was nothing new. The inside was also red: the floor, the walls, the ceiling. There was no furniture in the hall. The lamps burned low and Paxton could see names painted in red on the white doors periodically placed in the walls. He walked down to hall quietly, looking at every name, until he reached the door with his name on it. Paxton. He shut his eyes and entered his room.

All he saw was a bed and a little crate for his clothes. “Exciting,” he said under his breath. He peered into the crate. There were two more uniforms, a white shirt, and a washed out green pair of breeches. Paxton closed the little storage container and took off his rumpled shirt. With a peaceful sigh, he dropped into his bed and began to dream of Rinka before his eyes were fully shut.



Paxton woke up to the sound of bells and a loud thump. Someone was knocking on his door. “Hold on!” he shouted. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Everything seemed fuzzy and loud. It must be around dawn. As he stumbled towards the white spot on his wall, he heard whistling and the clatter of others getting up. “What?” he said sleepily as he opened the door.

The door opened to Rinka’s back. She was busy shouting insults at the rough men pleading their sincerest wish to show her a good time. She turned around and turned, saw the open door, and pushed her way inside. The door slammed shut as everyone in the hall tried to cram in after her.

Paxton scrambled out of her way to grab his dirty shirt. Try as he may, he could only struggle into it. Nothing smooth about it. “Jeez Paxton, You should have put that on before you answered the door,” Rinka said, her cheeks turning a rosy pink.

“I beg your pardon! I wasn’t expecting a wake up call in the men’s building to come from a woman!” spoke Paxton angrily. He was once again disappointed at his poor conduct. It didn’t help that it was so early either. His dreams were ruined, and there was no way to get them back.

“Keep your trousers on, it’s no big deal,” she said, blushing again. “ I was just going to ask if you wanted to come with me to breakfast. I wasn’t sure if you could find your way all alone.” Her signature smile of mockery spread itself over her face.

“Oh.”

“I should have waited outside, but I didn’t know how long you would be.”

“It’s alright,” he said hurridly. “You ready now?”

She laughed and said, “Yes, this isn’t my room. I was ready this entire time.” She glanced at him and shook her head. Drat his lack of sense!

“Right…” That was dumb, Paxton thought.

They both left the red building and were followed by the unruly whistles and calls of its residents. “The red buildings are the sleeping quarters for the men, while the yellow building are for the women. Now you understand why I should have waited outside,” Rinka explained.

“Which yellow building do you stay at?” Paxton asked, grinning. He thoroughly enjoyed that she asked him to breakfast. He hadn’t even thought to ask her yet and here she was walking with him to the mess hall.

“What you think this is a date?” She laughed. “Give me a break. Merot asked me to show you around and explain the basics to you. He said he could have done it himself but he was too busy this morning.”

“Oh I see…” He flushed red.

“You realize he was joking right? That this set up is for your benefit? You didn’t? My, you are thick! I thought it was rather obvious. Anyways, here is the mess.” The two entered and stood patiently in line for their meal.

It was noisy and hot. There were bodies packed densely into a small area, making the surrounding space flare with heat. Taking advantage of the waiting period, Paxton decided to find out more about his blunt guide.

“How long have you lived with the Duke, Rinka?”

“All my life.”

“And how long has that been so far?”

“Sixteen winters.”

“Have you always worked in the kitchen?”

“No! I can’t even imagine completing such rough jobs when I was only five. That is when I first started to work. I was five. I didn’t start in the kitchen until about four winters ago when my mother became too weak. The cold made her bones terribly frail.”

“I’m so sorry… “

“Don’t be. Everyone ages,” she whispered, looking down. “What about your family Paxton? Tell me about them.”

“Well my parents died. Bandits slaughtered many families in my village. I was lucky enough to escape. I made my way to my aunt and uncle, and their little boy. He isn’t so little now unfortunately. He is here as well. I hope you never have the misfortune to meet him. He is terribly irritating. Much like a biting fly. He gave me the most aggravating nickname-“

“Pixie? Almost didn’t recognize you. You are much cleaner here than you were at home. But with the company you seem to have acquired I would make an effort as well,” Luther said, smiling coyly at Rinka. “Hello there sweetie. I’m afraid you and I will have to get to know each other at a later date.” Luther winked and sauntered over to an end table with several unknown people, and surprisingly, Seth, seated around it.

“You are right. He is a pest. Can you believe he was so forward? Then again, he was being no different then the rest of the boys in your building…”

The two took their bowls and sat forcefully at the only empty table left in the mess hall. Paxton stared glumly at the table and brushed away the mess with his sleeve. “Usually I don’t eat in here, but since it is your first day, I figured I would make it memorable.”

“Where is it you usually eat then? I didn’t see any tables outside.”

“I eat behind the kitchen. The food stays hotter longer, and it isn’t nearly as noisy.” Rinka spooned some liquid into her mouth and glared across the room at Luther. “The nerve of him! I’d like to shove this bowl of muck right up his boring, little –“

“Excuse me. Mind if I sit here? Standing behind Rinka was another familiar face. But this one was smiling kindly.

She turned around clumsily into the man behind her and almost spilled his breakfast across his clean pressed shirt. “Oh jeez! Sorry, didn’t mean to run into you,” she said apologetically. If Paxton had done that, she would have said, “Jeez, don’t you know you’re not supposed to stand that close to a person?”

“So, would you mind if I sat down?” The familiar face belonged to Javis, the blacksmith’s son.

“Yes, of course.” Rinka had already cleared a place for our guest and decided to introduce herself. “My name’s Rinka,” she said, grinning like a child.

“I’m Javis,” he said, taking a bite out of his soaked bread. Rinka was completely taken by the muscular youth. She had her full attention on Javis, her food forgotten and pushed away.

Paxton couldn’t help but feel jealous. He was the one who showed the interest in her, and yet he received cold mockery. But the blacksmith’s son? No, he received warm smiles. He accepted it on the inside, deep down, because he knew they were destined to be no more than friends.

Breakfast continued with Rinka asking question after question as Javis responded appropriately. Paxton finished his food sullenly and continued to sulk once he was done. After an hour he was entirely fed up with the situation and he gathered the empty trays and took off for the stables. Even as he walked out the door, the sound of Rinka’s flirtatious voice could clearly be heard.

“Stinkin’ Javis,” muttered Paxton, roughly brushing a grey gelding. “Comes out of no where to sit with us! No, to sit with Rinka!” He was in quite the mood. There was no place for him to ever be with her. Not while he was awake, and not even when he was asleep.

He continued to brush vigorously. Horsehair covered his body and exposed skin. He tugged harshly against the horses, and as he came upon a particularly tough knot, Paxton scrambled out of the way of suddenly angry hooves. The poor thing almost lost some skin with that tangle. Paxton lightly hopped the stall door cursing, “Stinking horse!” He threw the brush back in the stall with all his might, hoping for a satisfying thump. “See if I ever talk to her again…”

Paxton retrieved the brush and ventured back to the upset gelding. He cooed and patted until the horse was sufficiently calm. He walked around to the horse’s other side, fear constricted in his chest. A small boy had attached himself to the rear leg of the gelding.

“Hey there sprout,” Paxton whispered gently. “What are you doin’ there? Why don’t you come over here and introduce yourself?” If the horse had another fit, the boy would be injured or killed, that couldn’t happen in one of his stalls.

The boy shook his head and buried his face into the short grey hair.

“I’ll give you some sweets,” he pleaded, even though he really had nothing to bargain with.

The little boy shook his head again.

Paxton continued to bribe, argue, and beg to boy to let go, but by that point, the horse was happily munching on hay. Danger was very unlikely. He approached the youngster with hands raised. Smiling, he began to stroke the boy’s back, coaxing him to let go.

“It’s ok, you can trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you. Just let go of the horse.” Paxton sighed as the boy released the gelding and clutched at his leg instead. “There there,” he muttered, picking the boy up.

Paxton wasn’t new to taking care of children. He had done his fair share of babysitting back at his village, but this boy seemed particularly stubborn. It probably would be a fight to get the boy to eat, even if he was starving. He led the little boy out of the stables y the hand, but once they were outside, tears poured down his face like it was the rainy season. Paxton’s heart began to race as everyone’s’ face turned to stare at the crying boy.

“Shhh! It’s all right,” Paxton said soothingly. “No one is going to hurt you out here. It’s safe.” Despite his friendly words, the boy was still frozen with unhappiness. Thankfully, he did stop crying. In the end, Paxxton picked him up and rubbed his back as he walked to the kitchen. The boy sniffled and clung tightly to peters neck, wiping his face against the rough surface of his shirt.

“Don’t worry sprout, I’ll help you find your mama.” The boy sniffled his reply.

The kitchen wasn’t busy. Breakfast was over and the dishes were the only things left around. The other servants were in the mess scrubing tables and collecting the rest of the bowls, so Paxton sat the boy down in the nearest stool.

“Hey!” one of the cooks shouted. “That little one can’t be in here! He will make a bigger mess than we already have!”

“Excuse me,” said Paxton. “But perhaps you know who this boy is? He’s lost.”

The cook took one look at the boy who had his pudgy fingers tightly wound around Paxton’s sleeve, and promptly dropped every dish he was carrying.

“What is all the racket then?” said another cook, followed closely by some companions. “Oh dear…”

“Where did you find him?” asked the first cook.

“He was in the stables,” replied Paxton, shocked by the cumulative reactions.

“Very well, follow me stable boy.” The cook brushed his hands off on his apron and bounded out the door.

Paxton picked up the boy and placed him high up on his shoulders, a weak attempt to cheer the boy up. He wasn’t sure if it worked or not since he couldn’t see the boy’s face, but the steady sound of sniffle abated.

He trotted up behind the cook and matched the man’s pace next to him. The cook was making his way into the castle, which both pleased and excited him. He had wanted another look in the castle, but he would have had no business doing so except for this boy it seems. Who was he anyways?

The boy cheered up immensely once they entered the castle. He began to giggle and pull sharply at Paxton’s hair. Paxton, of course, tried to ignore the pain, but he couldn’t help but wince from time to time. The boy pulled quite hard.

“Shhh!” hissed the cook. It vaguely reminded him of a monk surrounded by books. No one was allowed to make a sound.

“Hush up there or I will put you down,” Paxton threatened. It must have been a good threat, because the child quieted. “There’s a boy.” Great, it sounded like he was back in the stables talking to a horse. But he pulled playfully on the boy’s feet anyways.

The cook started leading them down a long and narrow hall. There was barely room for two people to wal side by side, so Paxton fell back. He admired the plush rug beneath his feet and the gentle lighting of the lamps on the walls. He caught a glance of himself in a passing mirror and shuttered. He looked like he just gout mauled by some creature. There was hair and dirt all over his clothes, his face was sweaty and dirty, and his hair was a right mess. Hopefully no one important would see him in this condition.

There were portraits of past Lords and Ladies of the castle. The Lords were on the right, and their spouses (if they had one) on the left. Paxton wondered how the line went on if a Lord was unable to produce an heir…

The walk slowed slightly as they got further down the hall. The cook finally made a stop in front of a set of double wide white doors. Each door had a bronze phoenix knocker placed in the middle of his blank face, which the cook promptly used.

“Enter,” a voice said.

The cook pushed open the door and said, “My Lord, I believe this young man has found your son.”

That threw Paxton. This whole time he’d been carrying a Lord on his shoulders. It was funny that he hadn’t noticed the resemblance before now. They both had dark hair and a pronounced chin, but the boy’s was covered in baby fat.

“Paxton!” Lord Sven said, surprise clear on his face. “Of all the people likely to find my boy, it is you who has the honor.”

“Yes my lord. He was in the stables, attached to a giant grey,” he said in his most respectful tone. “I am afraid I was unaware that this boy was your son, my lord.” The cook seemed to be very annoyed at the friendliness of the conversation. It appeared that Lord Sven treating him on such kind terms was a shock to the cook.

“You are dismissed Geoffrey,” said the lord, addressing the cook.

Paxton put the kicking boy down as the door closed behind the kitchen servant. The boy was in such a rush to get to his father, he tripped royally on the carpet. He wasn’t slowed for long, however, the rush continued as soon as he was on his feet again.

“There’s a god fellow,” said Sven, giving his son a hug. “My little Daven.”