by Jack Cage
“Family?” Stuart said.
“Yes. He is in fact my younger cousin, and his thirst for wealth and power forced me to banish him from Harkstead Castle many years ago. Now he has joined ranks with Carpenter. We may all be in great danger, but I have an idea,” King Phillip said as he straightened his back to look directly at the two men below him. “The Moors in the stables are something I have never seen before. Their size and abilities are far more formidable than any Red Guard soldier. If we could find a way to tame them, I believe they would be an unstoppable fighting duo,” King Phillip said.
“How would we go about taming them? The larger one seems to only be tolerant of us because of their elder father, Your Majesty,” said Singletary.
“I do not know how to tame them. I do know they will comply if they believe we might harm their father,” King Phillip replied.
“Please allow me to ensure I am understanding of what you are requesting of us. You would like us to train the two Moors in the stables in formal swordsmanship?” asked Stuart.
“Yes,” replied King Phillip.
“You would also aspire to have these men fight with our infantry in battle against Carpenter?” Stuart asked cautiously.
“No. I do not want them to fight with our infantry. I want them to remain here at Harkstead Castle as a means of protection for Prince Harold and myself,” King Phillip said.
“You would like them to be your personal guards, Sire?” Singletary asked.
“Indeed. Such men shall be a menacing sight standing to my side in this room. I want all that come before me to marvel at, what I have decided to call, my ‘Dark Warriors,’” King Phillip said with aristocratic pride. “Singletary, you are one of the finest swordsmen in the Midland Kingdom. See to it those men are taught all that you know. I want them to be as skilled with a blade as they are imposing to look at.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Singletary replied.
“Stuart, see that they are well fed. I want those men to be as strong as we know they are. Their slight appearance may be due to their long travels from wherever those men found them,” King Phillip said.
“I will see to it that they are well-fed, Sire,” Stuart replied.
“You may now leave. And remember, we must be prepared for anything going forward. Carpenter must not be underestimated,” King Phillip warned.
“Yes, Sire,” they replied. The two men left King Phillip as he gazed at the crimson and gold tapestries bearing his family’s crest on the walls of the chamber.
Later that day the Sefu men were startled to see a large group of Harkstead servants arrive at the bottom of their attic stairway. Within moments, the servants had lined the stairs and began passing food up to the Sefu men.
“Look at all of the food they are bringing us!” Endesha said with joyous hunger.
“Are they giving us one last meal before disposing of us?” Amri quipped.
“No, my sons, your purpose has been decided, and you two will have to become the warriors they believe you will be,” Zuberi said as he joined Endesha in the excitement of seeing so much food being given to them.
The servants left the Sefu men with more food than they had ever seen in their lives. They did not know where to start. They finally decided to try some of the wine, but it was too bitter. They recognized some berries that were on a small platter. “I know these will taste good,” Endesha said as he filled his mouth with a small handful. His eyes rolled back in his head with pleasure, and his smile was so big he could barely contain the half-chewed berries in his mouth.
“I guess those do taste good.” Amri laughed as he placed a few berries in his mouth.
The Sefu men enjoyed the various fruits from their new land. Apples, blueberries, and sweet plums, were things that did not grow in their native Africa.
The sweetness of the fruits was only challenged in popularity by the soft texture and wonderful smells from the basket of freshly baked breads. Amri was about to join his father in trying a piece of bread when he noticed a rather large piece of meat on another tray—a whole roasted turkey. Amri tore a leg off and bit into it with fury, the flavor was delightful to him. This meal made him think of the feasts they used to have back at his village, and for a brief moment, Amri felt sadness. “We have not eaten like this since we were back home,” he said.
“You are right. It has been a long time, Brother,” Endesha said.
“We should be truly grateful for what the land has given us. You two should prepare yourselves. I sense this meal comes with expectations,” Zuberi warned.
“What do you mean, Father?” Endesha asked.
“Clearly, these people want you two to be as healthy as possible,” Zuberi replied.
“Before they kill us,” said Amri.
“If that is the case, maybe I should have some more meat,” Endesha said jokingly. The Sefu men shared a small laugh.
27
T he next morning, Prince Stuart and Singletary arrived at the Sefu men’s attic. The brothers did not know what was in store for them, but felt certain it was related to the warning their father had given them the day before. “You two come with us,” Stuart commanded. The Sefu brothers did not move, they did not understand what they were being told.
“Your Highness, they do not speak our language.” Singletary gently reminded Stuart.
“Oh yes. I forgot, thank you.”
The two men motioned with their sheathed swords to follow them down the stairs. Zuberi looked at his sons, and said, “You will find out what they want from you today. Do your best to please them.”
“We will, Father,” Amri replied.
The two brothers were escorted to the armory adjacent to the stables, and visible to Zuberi from his perch in the attic. Stuart gave the brothers practice swords made of wood, and said, “This is called a waster, you will use them to practice so you do not lop each other’s arms off.” The two brothers looked at the wasters, then at each other with childlike bewilderment. Sensing their first failure in instruction, Singletary said, “Your Highness, maybe we should show them, then let them mimic our movements?”
“Agreed,” Stuart replied. Singletary unsheathed his sword, and Endesha flinched in unnecessary fear.
“Why did you move, little boy?” Amri snipped under his breath.
“I don’t know,” Endesha replied.
Singletary and Stuart were standing face to face with their swords drawn. “The secret to being an excellent swordsman is understanding your footing,” Singletary said as he pointed to his feet. His stance was wide with enough spacing to keep his upper torso in a straight line. The Sefu men would need to learn that this was the posture needed to block and return sword strikes. The prince and captain began to simulate a sword fight. Their movements were slowed to show the precision of their movements. Amri and Endesha watched them with great concentration.
After a few minutes, Stuart and Singletary sheathed their swords and walked over to the armory shelves. Each took a waster and stood face to face with the Sefu brothers. They took their first positions and waited for the Sefu brothers to do the same. They could tell the brothers had indeed been paying attention to what they were shown as the two Moors shadowed their stance. Singletary noticed Amri’s posture was incorrect and used his waster to straighten his back and adjust the angle of his sword’s “ready” position.
“All right, large one, I want you to block my strike,” said Singletary as he tapped his waster against Amri’s. He then used the upper portion of his sword to hit the side of Amri’s knee on his lead leg. Amri did not block Singletary’s strike. He hit Amri in the same place with more force, and it was still left unblocked. With the connection of the second strike, something rose up within Amri, a familiar feeling came over him.
Without thought, he blocked Singletary’s next strike, and even countered, with impressive speed, a strike to the captain’s shoulder.
The surprising sting from Amri’s strike made Singletary smile, and he said to Stuart, “I
think these Moors will do just fine.”
Over the next several days, the Sefu brothers became more familiar with the teachings of their captive instructors. Both sets of men worked diligently to share their knowledge while respecting each other’s ability to kill one another if needed. Amri enjoyed the lessons Singletary was teaching him. Singletary thought he was giving the Moors the basic skills to perform the task of being King Phillip’s personal guard. Amri and Endesha Sefu had no intention for their skills to be remotely “basic” in any form. Both brothers began to practice their offensive and defensive strikes in the evening under the watchful eyes of their father. They practiced their craft religiously, often late into the cold English evening.
“Good,” said Zuberi with a pleased look on his face. “You two are fighting like the men that are training you. Endesha, you must use your mind to keep Amri from using his strength against you! Amri do not let your anger alter your technique. The two of you have different strengths and weaknesses. The idea is to fight using your strengths while not allowing your enemy to discover your weaknesses.”
“Father, how can we not allow our enemies to discover our weaknesses?” Endesha asked.
Amri shook his head, and sat down on the other side of the room. Zuberi hobbled over to his youngest son, kissed him on the forehead and said to him softly, “You must kill your enemy before he discovers your weakness.”
“Father is correct. In battle, you do not have time to show any skills you are lacking,” Amri said. “You have to be so good with your abilities, your enemy does not have time to react to your actions. This is why we have to do our best to learn the fighting style those men are teaching us.”
“A word of caution, my sons,” Zuberi chimed in. “You must not let your trainers know your skills are more advanced than theirs.”
“If they know our abilities are better than theirs, they may try to kill us for fear they would not be able to stop us. Which is exactly what I am hoping will happen,” said Amri.
“No. You will suppress showing your trainers your abilities unless absolutely necessary. Let them believe you do not understand their commands and are learning slowly,” Zuberi said.
“What have you been doing while we have been training?” Endesha asked.
“I found some long wood and carved myself a walking stick. While you two are sleeping after your training, I go see the man that is shaping fire. I was not sure if he would allow me to watch him, but he did not seem to mind me looking over his shoulder,” Zuberi said while leaning on his finely carved walking stick.
“That man is not shaping fire, he is in charge of creating the weapons in this place,” Amri said.
“I am aware of that, Amri. My plan is to learn how to make these people’s weapons, so I can create weapons for the two of you when possible.”
“Is that all that you have been doing, Father?” Amri asked.
“No. I have also been tending to the animals below. I figure the men do not restrict my movements because of my age. They do not see me as a threat to them,” Zuberi replied.
“Have you been outside of this area since we were brought here?” Endesha asked curiously.
“I have not. I believe we are not meant to be seen. We know they want us to live and learn how to fight with their weapons, and they are teaching you two themselves. The question we need to find out is; why?” Zuberi said. “There is also something I want to warn you both of, as well.”
“What is that, Father?” Amri asked.
“There is a little one that likes to watch us from a distance,” Zuberi replied. “I believe it is a little boy.”
“A child? I have not seen a child,” Endesha said.
“Yes, you have Desha, he had blue eyes, and curly brown hair. Right, Father?” Amri asked. “I have seen him many times since they came to us with food the first time.”
“I did not see him that day,” Endesha said.
“I see everything,” Amri said.
“Then you must understand, Amri, the child is dangerous to us. If anything happened to the young one while around us, they would hold us to blame, and we would all perish,” Zuberi said with a serious tone. “We must ensure that the child is not around us.
“Father, that may not be possible. If this place is the child’s home we cannot control where that child goes,” Endesha said.
“I understand, but for now, you are to avoid that young boy. Do you understand me?” Zuberi demanded.
“Yes, Father,” both sons replied.
The following morning was sunny. Beams of sunlight shone brightly through the small cracks of the old Harkstead Castle stables. There was not much activity below as the riders had not yet left for their daily activities, and the horses were calm and quiet.
The Sefu men were asleep in their attic above the stables. When a faint noise, not loud enough to wake any of the Sefu men but Amri, was heard from below. Instinctively, he opened one eye to scan the area. The sound seemed to be coming from the stairs, and it was getting closer. Amri focused his eye on the stairs in front of him. The sound continued to get closer… closer, and Amri’s breathing ceased. Now with both eyes open, he tensed his muscles, preparing to respond to an attack. But when he saw the sight of brown, curly hair over the top of the stairs, Amri’s breath returned to him. It was the nine-year-old Prince Harold, and he was supremely curious about the guests in his father’s stable attic.
Amri had slammed his eyes shut as the boy made his way into the room, and continued to lie as if asleep as he watched—through slivered eyes—young Harold discover a piece of fruit, and quietly eat it while observing his father’s dark-skinned guests sleep above his favorite pet horse. Harold noticed Endesha’s wide, pronounced nose. It was considerably larger than his, and he decided he wanted to get a closer look. He crawled on his hands and knees toward where Endesha was laying, gathered up the courage to extend his index finger, and finally touched his nose. Endesha’s eyes shot open, and he recoiled in fear.
“Ah! He screamed as he scrambled backward away from Harold, pinning his body up against the wall. Harold recoiled as well, but he did not seem to be afraid of Endesha. Amri was full of laughter saying, “You almost jumped over the wall to the animals below.”
“This is the boy I was telling you two about last night,” Zuberi said as he tried to suppress his amusement.
“What do we do now?” Amri asked.
“Nothing,” Zuberi replied. “Maybe he will go back to his parents after he is finished playing with us? We should try to tell someone he is here with us.” He looked below to see if anyone was obviously searching for the boy.
Harold did not know what to make of his knew dark-skinned friends. They did not look like any men he had ever seen before. Their skin was dark like leather, and their eyes were the same shade of brown. The older one had soft-looking, very gray hair, the largest one had a bountiful amount of long black hair, and the smaller one had no hair at all which peaked Harold’s curiosity. Endesha had a condition that prevented him from growing hair. His uncle Coffa had a similar condition as well.
Harold summoned his bravery, went back to where the fruit was, picked up and apple, and offered it to Endesha. “Apple,” the boy said. Endesha did not respond. Harold extended his hand further and repeated, “Apple.”
Endesha quickly figured out what the child was attempting to do, and replied, “ah-pull.”
Harold nodded and repeated once more, “Apple.” He put the fruit in Endesha’s hand.
“ah-pull,” Endesha said again as he took the fruit from the young prince.
“Ap-ple.” Harold bit into his fruit.
“Apple.” Endesha took a bite from the fruit given to him by his new royal friend.
Amri sat up and started to shake his head in disgust saying, “Father told you not to interact with that little boy last night, and the first thing you do this morning is interact with the little boy. Yet, you think I am the one that is eager to die.”
“What are you two s
aying?” Harold asked. “You guys make funny sounds with your mouths.”
“You see that, Endesha? Do you know what that is? Death,” said Amri as he smiled at his father.
“I have to go now. I will be back soon,” Harold told the Sefu men. He waved his hand to gesture “good-bye” and the Sefu men mimicked his movements in return. Harold quickly ran down the stairs, around his pet horse, and out of the stables.
“You seemed to have made a friend, my son,” Zuberi said.
“I thought you did not want us to be around the child?” Endesha asked with a confused look on his face.
“I listened to both of you last night, and you were correct in saying we cannot control where he goes. We can only hope that if we keep him safe, we will in turn remain safe too!” Zuberi said.
28
I t had been months since Harold’s first visit, and he had been visiting the Sefu men more frequently. During his visits, he had been helping the Sefu men learn how to speak English, and to his credit, was a good little teacher. Harold and Endesha even found they enjoyed each other’s company. Endesha especially liked having the child around because it meant he wasn’t the youngest anymore. Amri did not want to be bothered by Harold, and did not entertain thoughts of engaging the young prince in any way other than to learn his language.
One day, Prince Stuart stopped by the attic space after a training session. “Have you seen my little brother?” he asked the Sefu men. “Of course, you do not understand me.” He motioned with his hand to reflect the height of a small child, and repeated his question, “Have you seen Harold?” They shook their heads to indicate no knowledge of the young boy’s whereabouts. “If you see him, bring him to me inside.” Stuart looked to Endesha—who, in turn, looked surprised that Stuart was directing his words toward him. “Harold says you are his friends, and you are his best friend.” He poked a finger at Endesha. Stuart continued on to say, “Well, if you see him bring, him inside to the king’s chambers.” He then turned and left the stables.