Simon stared around the small room his brother assigned to him.
It was a simple room with a bed, a wash basin on a table with, and a trunk for his belongings.
It reminded him of his old room back in the princes' dormitory. Though his old room was a bit bigger with a wardrobe and a study table by a bay window, still, they both looked simple yet cozy.
He found it quite funny that he was actually missing his old room now.
"Simple, yet cozy..." he mumbled to himself. "That was how my life used to be. Now, everything seems to be so complicated."
He sighed and let himself fall on the bed he was currently sitting on.
"Will is no longer with me," he said, closing his eyes. "Nell is gone as well, and my brother and his retinue are trying to kill me for some reason..."
He thought back to the previous evening.
To the knights that almost took his life.
How he was forced to fight them and kill them instead.
"It was... so easy..."
Simon opened his eyes once more and stared at his large sword propped against the wall.
"Why have I been wasting my time with such a cumbersome weapon as a bastard sword, when a normal sword was so much easier to use..." he asked himself. "What have I been enduring all this time, when I could have easily beaten them all, or at least, fought back to defend myself?"
Simon stood up and held the large sword in his right hand.
It was heavy.
In fact, it was so heavy and cumbersome, that he could hardly raise it up when he first got it when he was eight. He wanted to be like the Golden Hero, after all, and starting early was the only way to do so.
At least that was what his brothers Juno and Largos told him.
They even asked the royal blacksmith to make him a customized bastard sword, since there was none in the royal armory. It was so heavy that it took him three months to properly raise it with both hands, and a whole year to finally swing it from the top of his head to the tip of his toes.
They said he needed to learn how to use it with one hand.
That the Golden Hero held a sword in his left and wielded magic on his right.
It took him two years to use the sword properly with each hand, and he plans to learn magic when he turns 18 in 3 more years.
There is so much more he plans to learn, but all he could do were two moves – a downward slash, and a stab.
His brothers, as well as the royal instructors, didn't teach him anything else, since according to them, a bastard sword uses a completely different style from the kingdom's one-handed sword play. Aside from the fact that he was still far from perfecting those two basic moves.
"Were they just making fun of me all this time?"
Simon slashed the air in front of him in a fluid motion, the air current causing the curtains to flutter.
He can easily lift his bastard sword now, after years of daily practice, but he had no idea that he could move the way he did yesterday.
Well, the longsword he got from the fallen bandit was so much lighter, after all. It was so easy to swing around, that he was able to wield it in ways he didn't think possible with his huge bastard sword.
Gingerly, he tried moving the way he moved before.
He slashed at the air around him, down to the left, parry, straight to the right, up, parry left, and down again.
These were moves that he used to defend himself.
Moves that killed his opponents.
And though his movements were much slower compared to yesterday's, he realized that he could do it with his bastard sword as well.
"I guess all my training payed off."
He tied a belt with a guard across his back where he fit his bastard sword in, then took the pouch of money his brother gave him. He tied it to his left side and went out of his room where he found his brother's knight, Sir Trix standing guard.
"I wish to go out," he told the knight. "Can you accompany me?"
"Of course, your highness, Prince Simon," Sir Trix answered with a slight bow. "Where do you plan to go to with your sword in tow?" he asked curiously.
"I merely plan to look around town," Simon replied. "I don't have a place in particular, though I may buy some things I might find interesting along the way."
With that, Simon went downstairs without checking if Trix was following behind him.
He headed towards the town center, looking at the shops along the way. There were traders, bakers, craftsmen, brothels, taverns, and general stores, but he passed them all and stopped in front of an armory next to a blacksmith's shop.
"Can I help you?" a hairy man with a bare chest shaped like a barrel asked him as he stepped inside the sweltering shop.
"Yes, I would like to look at your swords," said Simon.
The blacksmith noticed the huge sword on his back.
"Are you lookin' to buy a new claymore, or are you plannin' to buy somethin' else?"
"Claymore?" Simon's head slightly tilted.
"Since you seem to prefer that." The man pointed at the sword on his back.
"Oh, this is my bastard sword." Simon took the sword from its guard and showed it to the blacksmith who snorted as he laughed.
"What bastard sword?" the man snickered. "That there is a two-handed claymore, if ever I've seen one!"
The man took the sword from Simon and brandished it around with both hands.
"A bastard's a hand and a half. This here is a two handed sword, mighty heavy one, too, with a broad blade about five feet long... I see it's made of good steel, is this newly minted?"
"It was recently repaired since it got badly chipped..." Simon replied.
He did notice that his sword looked much better after it got repaired. The blade was much sharper, the metal sheen, shinier, and the weathered grip was replaced with new, plush leather. If it wasn't for the old familiar wooden pommel he carved himself with his family's crest, he would think that the sword was a completely different one. (It actually was.)
"Then why are you looking for a new one? This one's in great condition," the blacksmith asked, scratching his head.
"Well, actually, I was thinking of buying something... lighter..."
"Hmm, come to think of it, you're too skinny for somethin' this big." The blacksmith stared at Simon from head to toe. "I kinda thought you were a page bringin' his master's sword in for repairs..." he gave Simon a friendly grin and patted his shoulder. "I was a bit surprised when you pulled this sword out with one hand. Guess you're pretty used to handlin' it." He proceeded to check Simon's sinewy arms with a pleased nod. "You should add more meat to your diet and to your arms as well!" he added with a laugh. "Strength is one thing, but I bet you wouldn't last long wavin' that thing around!"
"T-thank you for the suggestion," Simon replied shyly.
"Now, what kind of sword would you like to buy?"
"A regular sword I can easily carry around, please," he answered, "something I could easily use to defend myself."
"Hmm, a second sword, huh?"
The blacksmith went to a display rack by the wall where several weapons where hung in display and took two swords from it.
"Then I suggest a gladius." He handed him a short sword first. "It's good for close combat, compared to that cumbersome claymore of yours, or you can use a spatha that has a longer reach." He gave him the other, slightly longer sword next.
Simon held the two swords in both hands, testing its weight and balance.
"I think I prefer this spatha," he said after a while. It was about the same shape and size as the sword he wielded yesterday.
"Good choice!" the blacksmith slapped Simon's lower back. "That'll be 24 silver pieces, 28 and I'll throw in a sheath and a belt as well!"
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Go to Part 55
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