The Kidnapped Prince

The First Night

That night Galahad and Gaheris made a fine stew out of rabbits Sir Percival and Lady Alys shot earlier that day. It was decided the sandwiches would keep in the saddle bag and would be saved for lunch.

Praise was heard from every pair of lips. The squires puffed out their chests and silently congratulated each other while they did the dishes in the stream near the campsite. The duo efficiently works through the dirty dishes.

"Galahad, you and I will take the first watch. We will wake Sir Percival and Lady Rhoslyn after three hours," Sir Bedivere states, pulling out his bed roll. The grand master spreads out and makes himself comfy. An effective lean on his left arm to view the campsite. "Three hours after that, wake Lady Alys, Sir Gawain and Gaheris."

Galahad nods as he returns with half the cleaned dishes. The older squire fills in the younger squire when Gaheris returns. The rest of the dishes are in his arms. They quickly put the washed dishes into the pack mule's saddle bags. And a quick carrot for the pack mule.

Then the squires quickly make up their beds. Gaheris, the younger squire, packs off to bed. Unlike Galahad, who sits with Sir Bedivere. Not right by him, but close enough that he can hear without waking the rest of the company.

Galahad silently watches his mentor scan the immediate area. To the squire, it's fascinating to watch. It's something he's never seen Sir Bedivere do. Once Galahad begins to hear snores and slightly more dignified snores, the squire dares to strike up a conversation.

"Sir Bedivere?"

"Galahad,"

"How am I doing as a squire?" Galahad asks. He knows he needs work. He also knows he has two years before he becomes a knight. He knows he's behind. Some feedback would be helpful and an excellent place to start.

Sir Bedivere sighs. He knew this was coming; quite frankly, they should have had this conversation long ago. "You're doing well, but you have room to improve,"

"Where?"

"You do not need to wake me at the ass crack of dawn, for starters," Sir Bedivere chuckles. The grand master is not an early-morning person. Nor is he a morning person in general.

Galahad crumples his face. Puzzled by his mentor's words. "Father said that's the appropriate time,"

"For him maybe, but not me," Sir Bedivere snorts. Each morning he has to endure his squire waking him with the first rays of light. He wouldn't mind if it weren't so goddamn early, but it is what it is.

But Galahad asked.

"What else?"

"Your sword and shield work is decent. The same can be said for your jousting, but it needs work. Your marksmanship is superb. So overall, you're doing well but not good enough for your father, I expect," Sir Bedivere further explains. He adjusts his lean to be more comfy. It is somewhat uncomfortable to lean on one's shoulder for long periods. Even for a knight of his experience, it takes a toll.

"Anything else?" Galahad tentatively asks, almost scared of the answer, even though he was the one who asked in the first place. The squire leans forward ever so slightly.

Sir Bedivere nods.

"Yes, but I'm too tired to talk about that and see your heartbreak," The grand master sits up and reaches for his water skin. He takes a deep gulp before offering it to his squire.

Galahad refuses. Instead, he asks how long until they wake Sir Percival and his sister.

Sir Bedivere thinks for a moment, then says an hour or so.