Temple Sword

Chapter 6 The Way of the Romans
When Sarecher's saliva flowed onto his face and whispered in his ear, Antar Barto's small eyelids immediately opened.He was startled first, and raised his head in horror, and when he came back to realize what had happened, he had fallen off the haystack.

"Sarecher." The picture finally gradually became clear in front of Antal. He called the black horse's name sleepily. Last night, he whispered to it for a long time, so that he fell asleep directly on the haystack.

He got up quickly and dusted off the dust on his body, but he was too dirty, and he couldn't clean it no matter how hard he tried.His tousled, shaggy hair was covered in hay, and he looked more like a hapless tramp than a knight's squire.

He yawned a lot, ran out into the yard, and headed straight for the well, shaking off the dirt as he took off his clothes.He tousled his head thoroughly, then pulled a bucket from the well and poured cold water over his neck.He suddenly felt his blood boil, and the drowsiness poured out of his eyes and disappeared.

When he ran into the house, everyone was already sitting at the table, and the room was filled with the smell of fresh cheese and bread.

"Are you sleeping comfortably, my boy?" William smelled as he sat down in Antal.

"Comfortable," said the boy, picking up a piece of bread, "why do you ask, Brother Christ?"

"Because I don't know how comfortable the stables can be," William's voice cracked sternly. "You think I won't notice? Why do you think you have a room for yourself to sleep in?"

"I accidentally fell asleep," Antal lowered his head, "I didn't mean to."

William watched the boy gnaw on the bread quietly, and said in a low, non-negotiable voice: "Go to pray, Antal."

Antal, staring at his uncle in surprise, was about to protest loudly, explaining that he was not at all responsible, and that he hadn't even finished his breakfast.But William's gaze was enough to keep him silent, forcing him to rise without a word, and to shuffle towards the altar inside the house.

William raised his adopted son in a unique way, knowing that if Antares had lived in the monastery, he would be subject to stricter discipline.William took great pains to train the boy as a page, so that Antares would not have to live in a monastery.

However, the Knights still entrusted a brother to oversee how William taught the children and whether he was training the boys responsibly.William enjoys certain privileges in the Knights, because his achievements in the Holy Land are unparalleled, but there are still some people who scoff at his ideas and feel that Antares should not live such a free life.

The boy knew all this well, and whenever he was punished he consoled himself that at least he would not be whipped as he had been in the monastery.

In addition, apprentices cannot conduct swordsmanship training. The Templars who grew up in the monastery can only start practicing swordsmanship after being promoted to a servant at the age of 14, but Antal, who left the monastery early, started to learn the basics at the age of eight, and He trains with a wooden sword every day.

Kneeling in front of the altar, he drew a cross on his chest, then took out of his pocket the gift that Umberto had given him, and whispered the Lord's Prayer while playing with the wooden knight.
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"No, no," William shook his head when Antal appeared in the yard with his notched wooden sword, "From today onwards, you will practice with a new weapon."

Looking at the seemingly identical wooden sword in his uncle's hand, Antal raised his eyebrows suspiciously, but the moment he took over the new weapon, he understood that the sword was so heavy that it was pulling his arm down. .

"The inside of this wooden sword is filled with lead." William explained, "I specially asked someone to make it for you."

Antal held the lead-core wooden sword in both hands, and raised it over his head with difficulty, the veins on his forehead were throbbing.

"It's too heavy!" he complained, flushed. "Are you sure I have to use this exercise?"

"You will grow stronger slowly, be patient." William shrugged, "I hope you will be stronger and more agile than others, and when the time comes, you will wield it like this sword growing in your hand with it."

William took back this strange gift from Antal's hand, and the boy could tell from his face that the sword was heavy for him too, but he pretended to be relaxed and said nothing.

"It's heavier than a real sword," William said, swinging it in slow motion, "and the idea was given to me by former legionnaires of the Roman Empire, who were all trained with weapons that were much heavier than the weapons they actually used on the battlefield. .”

"What did they create this training method for?" Antal grumbled, not liking the idea at all.

"They conquered half the world with it," William said, and then pressed the heavy "wooden sword" into his hand, "Come on, try it!"

"But uncle!" begged the boy, "it's too heavy, and it's so hard, really, really hard!"

"Enough!" William snapped, loud enough for Antar to shut up. "In this way you can become a real good soldier, not a coward who drags you down on the battlefield, stop complaining!"

"Okay," Antal nodded, trying hard to swallow the lump in his throat, with mist in his eyes.

"Very well, then practice your basic posture, blocking and attacking moves, and don't be lazy! Don't stop before six o'clock (noon)."

The boy raised his head, his tears were about to fall out, he had just turned ten years old, and the task his uncle gave him was ten times harder at once.

"Son, don't look at me with such big eyes!" William smiled and encouraged him, "The Templars have the ability to take care of themselves and their comrades, just like lions in the desert, if you want to wear If you wear a white cloak, you must be worthy of it!"

Antar yelled angrily, gathered all his strength to raise the epee, and began to slash the air vigorously.However, contrary to his usual practice, his imaginary enemy this time is not the Saracens, but the Roman Legion who created this training method.

(End of this chapter)