I breathe in taking in a whiff of Summer's first rain. The darkness outside possesses the outside world with the light of the crescent moon as its only rival. The heavy water droplets fall harshly against the ground, and thunder roars along with it. Lighting flashes showing me the silhouettes of our horses across the brothel.

Our referring to the knight whose boisterous laughter is enough to challenge that of the rumbling thunder. A laughter that makes my vein pulse with aggravation and my blood turn to steam. I turn, brown gaze staring at my mentor.

A strongly built man, a giant compared to the average one. With calloused large hands that cover and can possibly crush the face of another man, or so the legends say. Legends that have failed to be proven to me, time and time again for the past ten years of being a squire. Yet here I stand, ten years, perfectly trained, and no knightship.

"Tamen!"

My teeth unclench at the sound of my name, my jaw aching as I rub my fingers over it. I walk back to the table where my mentor sits with a woman on each side. Our companions, in similar disposition with an entertainer on their lap, or side.

"Aren't her breasts the best," he banters, a hand cradling the body part making the woman laugh.

I fail to find the situation funny, "Is there something you needed, Sir Willis?"

He let's go of the part sighing, but a smile still holds its ground on his lips as if being patient with me. My headache seems to throb more as my jaw clenches once again.

"You need to settle down. I'll praise yah for the good work you've done."

I stand up a little straighter at those words, jaw slacking, as my heart jolts, "Praise?"

Sir Willis nods, "With this beauty," his head turns to the other woman sitting next to him and he pulls her closer as well. She gives me a sultriest look and I frown even as I feel a different kind of heated jolt swimming south from my stomach. She is more than what I'd ever be able to afford in these places. Beautiful brown locks, and freckled skin. Unlike her co-worker, her light pink gown rests cover her bosoms but is slit on the side showing her smooth legs. "You won't have to use your skites, I'll pay for yah."

My frown deepens, "I have no need for a woman."

The gentlemen around laugh.

"If I'd said that at your age, my mum would probably be proud of me." My head snaps to the side where Sir Corstel sits. A knight from the south with shoulder length brown hair, handsome no doubt, and soon to be a lord due to his father falling ill.

"I mean, you can borrow this lad," Sir Rae spoke, but his eyes seemed hungry as they ran over the male who'd been kissing his neck and giving small pleasures to him throughout the night.

"Sex is not a reward for me," I blush looking away as Rae's hand begins to adventure.

Sir Willis laughs again, "Tamen, believe in my word when I say, for a knight sex is a very well earned adventure. For a squire," he waggles his finger at me yet again laughing, "it is a gift from the gods."

"Does that make you a god Willis?" My lips rest as a thin line, and my gaze remains steady.

The laughter stops, and although my eyes lie on my mentor I can feel our companions' gaze on me as well, the atmosphere shifting.

"To you I more than am, Boy." He isn't angry, not yet, and that pushes me for more.

"To me, you're just another lost fallen knight."

"And what, you suppose you'd make a better knight?" Just a little more.

"I'm saying it's time I'd be named one if can tell the difference between honor, and swine."

His lips tin, the room is still, his brows are poised.

I got him.

His head tilts back in laughter, and his friends follow suit. Their entertainment looks around confused before joining suit leaving me behind as the only lost one. I take a step, feeling my cheeks reddened as I glare at my feet. I didn't get him.

"Oh Tamen, you make me proud. You remind me of when I was your age."

"Were you truly this snotty, Sir Willis?"

"Snotty? I thought I could devour the whole kingdom with just one bite."

I swallow, and my head snaps up, "What's so funny about the truth?"

Sir Willis wipes his tears from the rims of his silver eyes, still chuckling, "The truth Tamen, is that you can't even wipe your arse correctly, you are far behind from being a knight. Now get us another jug of-"

"I am no longer fit to be a squire."'

"Listen Tamen, the joke is getting old, I agree with your old man, you ain't fit Lass."

I turn to Rae, "You know not of what you speak of, you are no better than him."

Sir Corstel stands making the table behind him shake, "Now you listen here, Boy!" Approaching he raises his hand and I reach for my dagger prepared.

Feeling a hand at my wrist I am pushed behind my mentor and a hand catches the other's man's before Sir Corstel can lay a finger on me.

"I apologize Sir Corstel. I do believe he is mine to punish, however," my mentor turns to me, seeming more tired than upset.

This, of course, angers me more, I glare.

"Remove the glare, or you'll force my hand Tamen."

I scowl, "I've proven myself to you countless times. I've fought along side you, and have not dragged you down. How am I not a knight?"

"You just stated it Tamen, alongside me. Alone you would have been murdered, especially in our last battle."

I wince, pushing the memory of the last fight we served in, "I can defend myself."

"My word is final, you are not ready. The day you are ready is the day you defeat me. On that very day, I shall even let you keep my sword."

My eyes travel to the mentioned weapon. Everyone wants it, I want it. The steel is like nothing seen before, and when he is asked where he forged it, the story changes every time. He doesn't even know. It can cut through anything, which I believe is the main reason he can fight enemies off so well. If not he wouldn't have lasted this long.

He always cleans it, the sword being the one thing I am not told to touch or clean. The blade a clean silver that wears not even a single scar on its metal sheen. It's guard having the design of clouds, the hit a strange pattern, and the pommel a sphere with clouds seemingly inked to it.

That sight was enough.

"Fine," my brown gaze fell back on him.

"What?"

"Let me fight you."

Once again he laughs, and again I fail to find the situation funny.

"Fine," he reaches for his pint and takes a swig from it before wiping his mouth off with his shirt, "I'll fight you Tamen. And I'll even keep my word of giving you my sword. That is if you win Squire of Grounds." He winks.

"I hope you know where to forge another sword, Sir Willis?"