The crowd cheered and hats bounced in the air. Gobba smiled and joined in with the dancing as military trumpets sounded. Now he would fight for the King and prove his mettle against the Malaxians. As the village celebrations grew rowdy, Lord Snookington scratched his chin and wondered how he would turn a bunch of hardened farm hands and miners into soldiers. Difficult days lay ahead. If anything it would be a trickier task to transform the gentlemen, softened by good living, into knights. Harry was trained in swordsmanship, but he had no experience of war. He brought in some career soldiers and the training commenced.
Lord Snookington met with the wealthy men of the village and those of fighting age formed a unit of knights. They had armour forged and used their horse riding skills to work as a fighting force. The peasants were conscripted as soldiers. Some were trained with bows and others to use swords. Leather-clad uniforms were made and the old soldiers which Lord Snookington brought in began to turn them from civilians to men-at-arms.
Gobba joined the infantry and dreamed of glory, and a medal. He was proud of his smart uniform and swished his wooden training sword in the air with anticipation. Skill would come with practice, he was sure. But Gobba winced as he was hit time and again with the practice swords. And the aching in his arms at the end of each day never seemed to cease. He considered his strength lay in brains, not brawn, so Gobba was confident of scheming his way to honour in the upcoming conflict. Two experienced soldiers walked down the line of recruits as they practiced with swords. Gobba looked over and tried to get their attention, but they stood and watched Ned.
“This one looks handy,” one grunted.
“Maybe, but he’s untested,” the other replied. “You there!! Let’s do battle.”
Gobba walked over for a better view and leant against a tree. “This’ll be good for a laugh,” he smirked.
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