perhaps not many carriages. Perhaps when you were at the round table with King Arthur you couldnât see the one-armed knights. Perhaps you are so old that when you were a lad, one-armed knights were dinosaurs and cavemen.â
A pause. Pete felt heâd gone too far, but the old man simply stared at him.
âYou have heart, boy, I will say that for you. It is a rare quality, and one I have not seen for some time. Not since ⦠well, not for some time. Dinosaurs and King Arthur indeed! Right then. I will help you. I will help you because I like your spirit. However, I will not help you today. I have things to do that cannot wait. You must train by yourself, but be here tomorrow morning with your timetable. Then we shall see what we can do together, an old man and a one-armed boy. This should be fun.â
And with that he stood up, walked back over to the couch and lay down with his back to Pete, whose jaw dropped again. He ran over and shook the man he now believed, although not totally, was Sir Mountable.
âNo no no no no!â he said urgently. âToday. Training starts today. You and me at the castle.â
âTomorrow or nothing boy,â came the reply. âThat is my final offer. Take it or leave it.â
Pete took it. He didnât feel as though he could do anything else. He picked up his pack, climbed back out the window, dodged the goat as it tried to butt his butt, and then trudged back to the castle, wondering how this day could get any worse.
hen Pete McGee returned to the castle lawn, the other trainees and their knights were going through some simple exercises. Nothing major, but definitely two-people drills. Pete dropped his pack on the floor.
The session was being taken by King Rayon himself, who sighed when he saw the boy arrive alone. Leaving the rest of the group to continue with the exercise, he walked over to Pete, whose shoulders were slumped.
âYour mentor?â the King asked, an eyebrow raised.
Pete looked at him, holding back the urge to do a disgusted face.
âSome mentor,â he said, unable to totally restrain himself. âHe was still asleep, and I think he may have been a little, you know, hungover.â
King Rayon nodded and stroked his chin.
âYour journey will not necessarily be the easiest, Pete McGee, for a number of reasons. However, you must do all that the others do. Therefore it is your responsibility, if your mentor knight does not wish to appear, to make him appear. As you have not done so, you must suffer the appropriate punishment: ten laps of the grounds.â
A snicker made Pete turn his head, where he saw Larson Smithers giggling at him. Smithers went to say something but was cut off by a glare from the King.
âYou are here to help, Smithers. Please do so.â
Smithers bowed in apology. Pete rolled his eyes and started to run. Luckily it was a nice day, a little overcast perhaps, but at least it wasnât ⦠two laps into his run, it started to rain. Pete groaned and pressed on, his clothes becoming heavier as they soaked through. He pulled the hood of his jacket over his head. It wasnât a huge distance around the castle grounds, but it was far enough, and doing it ten times was a killer.
After the fifth lap Peteâs legs felt like lead, but he willed himself on. Time and time again he almost stopped, but he wouldnât be defeated on his first day. Not more than once anyway.
So he ran.
By the eighth lap it was more a shuffle than a run, but he kept going. The rain had stopped, and the other trainee knights and their mentors were watching, their session complete.
On the ninth lap Pete McGee shuffled past Larson Smithers, who stuck out a foot as though to trip Pete. Pete dodged it, but in doing so lost his balance. His legs felt so weak from the run he was not able to adjust quickly enough. He fell to the ground and when he tried to get up again, it just wasnât happening. His legs had gone