Royce folded his arms across his chest and stared at Justin. Then he calmly explained the rules of conduct for all soldiers in his ranks. He went right on speaking in a mild, patient voice, even when Justin let out a roar of outrage and lunged at him. Royce easily sidestepped the attack and tripped Justin with his foot.
The boy went sprawling face down. He didn't give up, though. Again and again he attacked. Royce effortlessly ducked each blow while he continued to outline his training program. Justin used his fist, his head, and his shoulders to try to knock Royce down. He spewed foul words all the while. When he called Royce his bastard captor, he found himself flat on his back on the ground. Dust billowed up around him. As soon as the air cleared, he saw Royce looming over him. Justin tried to regain his feet, but Royce held him down by putting one booted foot on his chest.
"I'm neither your captor nor a bastard," he said. "I'm your baron, Justin, and you're my faithful vassal."
Justin closed his eyes and gasped for breath. Royce moved back and continued his list of rules while Justin staggered to his feet. He gathered the last of his strength and spat in Royce's face. He missed his mark by a good yard, but the insult was still there. Royce's reaction was instantaneous. He gave Justin a well deserved kick in his backside and sent him sprawling on the ground again. There wasn't a bit of anger in the punishment. Royce was merely giving the boy his first lesson in survival.
He'd gained Justin's full attention, too. For all his rage, he noticed Royce didn't even look mildly irritated. Justin didn't understand, but inside he was so scared he couldn't think. It seemed that no matter how much he provoked the baron, he couldn't push him into killing him. That realization terrified Justin, for it meant he'd have to go on living.
"All the things I've just explained to you come down to a few basic rules," Royce continued. "You will not embarrass your unit. You will train to your fullest capacity, you will treat others with respect, and you will never, ever show cowardice, for to do any of those things would embarrass this unit. You will learn to depend upon others as they will learn to depend upon you. It's very simple, Justin."
Royce knew full well the boy didn't understand. Justin looked like a caged animal who'd just escaped his prison. There was a wild, hunted look about him.
"What do you want from me?" Justin suddenly roared.
Royce put his booted foot on Justin's chest again. "All you can give," he announced. "And then more, Justin. And by God, you'll give me exactly what I want."
He moved away from Justin then and motioned Ingelram over to his side. "Go with Justin," he commanded. "Show him where the uniforms are kept." He glanced down at Justin. "You will wash the filth away now. Tomorrow your training with the others begins."
Royce deliberately turned his back on Justin when he walked away. Ingelram reached down to offer his hand in helping the boy up. Justin shoved his hand away. When he regained his feet, Ingelram moved to one side and waited. He didn't call out a warning, for he knew his baron would expect a sneak attack. Justin rushed after Royce and tried to tackle him from behind. He found himself grasping air at the last second and ended up on his knees.
Royce turned around and once again used his foot to shove Justin onto his back on the ground. "If you want the privilege of fighting me, you'll have to earn it. You're going to have to get a hell of a lot stronger first, boy."
"Boy!" Justin roared.
Royce nodded. "You aren't even worthy to be called Dove yet," he said. "Ingelram? I just ordered you to show him to the uniforms. See it carried through."
The vassal nodded to Royce, then again offered his hand to Justin. Nicholaa's brother instinctively reached up. He was pulled to his feet before he realized he'd accepted assistance. He was too overwhelmed with exhaustion to think coherently. His shoulders were slumped in defeat. He would fight them all tomorrow, he decided, when he was rested, when he was stronger.
He fell into step beside the young Norman soldier.
"I was called 'boy' once or twice when I first entered the baron's ranks," Ingelram said. "Then I officially became a Dove. You see, Justin, we new recruits are called Doves by the older, more experienced knights. It's meant as an insult, of course, but they were all once Doves, too, and so we take it in stride. We compete against them every chance we're given, too. When you get rid of your anger, you'll realize how fortunate you are to have been allowed to join the most elite unit in all of England and Normandy combined."
Ingelram had spoken earnestly, but Justin scoffed. "I'll be leaving soon," he muttered. "I have no need to hear this ignorant explanation."
Ingelram shook his head. "You can't leave without permission," he said. "It would embarrass our unit. You have to stay here."
He turned Justin's attention then when he said, "Did you notice that each time you attacked the baron, he retaliated without using his hands?"
Justin hadn't noticed. His eyes widened when he realized Ingelram had spoken the truth. He refused to answer Ingelram, though. He scowled instead.
Ingelram wasn't daunted. "Baron Royce used his feet. You didn't." He slapped Justin on his shoulder. "You've just had your first lesson in defense." He laughed after making that statement, then added, "God, Justin, you smell as rank as a well-used whore."
Justin ignored that comment. He vowed there wouldn't be any more lessons to endure. He was going to leave the holding tonight, after the other soldiers had fallen asleep.
He was so ravenous that evening he ate a full dinner. He was forced to sit with the other soldiers and listen to their conversations. No one tried to draw him into discussion, but the men didn't actually exclude him, either.
His pallet was positioned between Ingelram's and Gerald's. Justin's last thought before exhaustion overtook him was that he would rest for just a few minutes, then get up, gather his meager possessions, and leave.
He awakened in the dead of night, but he didn't even make it to the door. A soldier Justin had never seen before blocked his path. He calmly explained that his name was Bryan, that he was also a new recruit, and that he only wanted to remind Justin he couldn't leave without permission.
Bryan had dark curly hair and brown eyes. He was shorter than Justin by an inch or two, but his muscles made him an intimidating barrier. "I've been reminded," Justin muttered. "Now get out of my way."
Bryan was suddenly joined by three more soldiers. They were as sleepy-eyed as Bryan, and just as determined to keep Justin inside.
"Why the hell do you care if I leave or not?" Justin raged.
"It would embarrass our unit if one of us left," Ingelram called out from his bed. "Go back to sleep, Justin."
He knew he couldn't win. There were too many of them, and he was too weary. He grudgingly returned to his bed. No one jeered at him. That surprised Justin. It infuriated him, too. He wanted a reason to hate the soldiers, and they weren't giving him any.
Several minutes passed before everyone settled back down for the remainder of the night. Ingelram was just drifting off to sleep when he felt Justin nudge him.
"What happens when someone embarrasses your unit?" Justin whispered. He was already damning himself for asking that question. He certainly didn't want to give Ingelram the notion he cared. He was merely curious, that was all.
"Believe me, Justin," Ingelram whispered back, "you don't want to know."
He did want to know, though, and couldn't stop himself from prodding Ingelram again. "Is the punishment severe?"
"Yes."
"Is it death, then?"
Ingelram snorted. "No," he answered. "Death's easy, Justin. The punishment isn't. Go to sleep now. Tomorrow will be a difficult day for all of us."
Justin didn't take that advice. There was too much to think about.