40 Spring 496 AV
Yvan was jolted awake. Ramsey had kicked the end of his bed and started rattling his sword against a shield. Petrified, Yvan fell out of his bed, tangled in a mess of blankets and quickly scurried to his feet, wide eyed and full of fright. At the look on the young boy's face, Ramsey couldn't help but laugh, "serves you right for sleeping in," he smirked, proud of himself for sneaking up on and scaring the wits out of his newest squire.
"It's still dark," Yvan rubbed his eyes after peering out the window.
"What time do squires rise?" Ramsey asked him.
"Before the cock crows," the teen yawned.
"Listen," Ramsey paused, looking skyward as if he expected something to jump down at him from the ceiling.
The wind caused the shutters to rattle, the flames of a burning oil lamp cracked from just beyond the front door of the dormitories where it was hung, and in the distance there came the faint call of a rooster’s crow, "there it is," Ramsey beamed.
"But it's still dark," Yvan yawned again.
"Shut your mouth, boy, or you'll catch flies."
At that Yvan covered the yawn to follow with his arm before muttering, "That cockerel must be broken, or blind."
"First light," Ramsey turned and left Yvan to dress.
Outside, Ramsey had set up a target and held a crossbow at his hip. The squire approached his patron like a weary dog, watching the way the man eyed him or shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Yvan stopped about three feet from the knight and waited for him to speak. When Ramsey said nothing, the boy opened his mouth to say something and was quickly cut off, "you know what this is?"
"Yes," Yvan nodded, "it's a crossbow."
"Have you ever used one before?"
"A couple of times."
"Show me," Ramsey ordered and held out the bow.
Yvan took the crossbow cautiously, as if he expected Ramsey to spring another surprise on him. He held out a hand ready to accept a bolt and marvelled at how small his hand looked in comparison to the knight's. Yvan loaded the bolt into the crossbow's stock and pulled back the string to set it behind the nut, "loaded," he smiled.
"Well, don't just stand there like an old woman, fire," Ramsey waved, gesturing to the target he had set up.
The boy turned his body and raised the crossbow to aim at the target. The weapon was heavy and caused his arms to shake, throwing the sights off. He peered down the centre of the bow, held his breath, and slid his finger over the trigger to fire the bolt. The bolt whipped forward and whizzed by the target, which was about two feet wide, round, and painted red.
Ramsey, unamused, smacked the back of the boy's head, "go get it," he hissed and took the crossbow from Yvan.
