Chapter 51: Chapter 51

NOSTALGIC

Jacob heard the banging through the door and listened for a while. He couldn't face his father.

So he stood in front of the forge in the village, listening to the hammering on steel and wondering what to tell him. How should he explain his deed to his father?

He knocked softly and entered. Immediately it was quiet in the room. Arin's body was still tense from work, his shirt stuck to his body. The hammer lay lightly in his hand, as if it weighed no more than a straw. His black eyes glared at Jacob angrily. So angry that the boy almost wet himself.

"At her." Arin growled. "The prodigal son."

Jacob nodded intimidated. "Yes, sir. I'm at home."

Arin put the hammer down but otherwise didn't move. "You can brace yourself."

Jacob clenched his fists. He didn't want to cry. Not showing how incredibly happy he was to see his strong father who would protect him. Before everyone...

He closed the door behind him and approached his father. He didn't move, but watched every step Jac took.

It took a great deal of effort for him to look into Arin's eyes. But he did. "I deserve it."

Arin nodded ominously, put a hand on his belt buckle but stayed there. Almost calm.

But it wasn't that gesture that got Jacob's tears flowing. But the realization that he was finally home... where nobody was doing such horrible things to him.

Arin stared blankly at Jacob's tears and started to say something, but Jac wiped his cheeks in embarrassment. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry father..."

Now his father growled with a crooked grin: "Would you stop crying now? How am I supposed to beat you up like that?"

In his nervousness, Jacob hadn't recognized the sarcasm and struggled to pull himself together. Arin squatted down in front of him, grabbed his collar and pulled him closer to his face. "If you ever run away from me and worry me like that, you'll pay for it."

"Yes, sir..."

Now he put his hand on Jacob's cheek. His eyes were soft and loving. "I don't dare to let you out of my sight anymore."

Jacob had to chuckle.

"Tell me what happened to you boy. I'm looking at you... What happened?"

Suddenly every attitude Jacob was trying to maintain was gone. But he didn't have to say anything. Arin took it, hugged his son and just let him cry for a long time...

When Jacob started choking, Arin put a stop to it. He looked him seriously in the eyes. "Have you been to mother's?"

Jac sniffled. "Yes, sir."

At his trembling voice, Arin's heart threatened to tear apart. "Good. When did you last eat?"

The boy shrugged, embarrassed. "I haven't brought anything down since we docked in London."

"Then run home and eat something. When I get home we'll talk."

"Am I still in trouble?"

Grinning, Arin placed a large, heavy hand on his forehead. "You think just because I don't beat you up you'll get away with it?"

The mischief that Arin had already thought lost entered the blue children's eyes. "I love you, daddy."

"Yes, yes, you can save yourself that." Arin stood up, jokingly shoved his son, and picked up his hammer again. "Get out of my sight, brat."

However, Jacob hesitated for a moment. "Do you think you can ever trust me again?"

Arin shook his head. "It's going to be a long way before I can trust you blindly again."

"I'm really sorry..."

Arin raised the hammer and brought it down on the hot steel. "Run home, Jac."

"See you later." To Arin's relief, he heard a small smile in the voice.

Armin patted old Pocket's nostrils. "Hey boy? would you like oats I've got a whole bucket for you."

Raised the bucket just a little bit and Pocket was already sticking his black stallion snout in it.

As always, the stable smelled of hay and horses. The smell of the small chicken coop next to the coop wafted through the open gate. And the eternally starved cackle of the hens as well.

It reminded Armin of earlier times when mucking out the stable was part of his daily work. And that he often flirted with Pocket. Until his father once unexpectedly put him on his bareback and calmed the wild dancing mustang with just a single soft grumble.

He liked growing up here. Even if he was born in the castle of the white knights, his roots lay here. At the little hut near the grove, in the stable and in the smithy in the village, which his father had taken over at the time. That's why Armin had never considered himself a lord's son.

Isabella's soft sigh snapped him out of his nostalgia. “It's so beautiful here...Simple and very different from what I'm used to. But I like it."

Armin smiled proudly. "Not true?"

Her green eyes lit up. “You are completely different here, Armin. carefree."

"Naturally. I'm not the master of the house here." He shrugged guiltily. "To be honest, I'd move back here in a heartbeat. Sleeping up in the hayloft, training with Syman every Saturday..."

Isabella placed her slender fingers on his upper arm. "You're getting all grumpy, aren't you?"

"However..."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his shoulder. “We also make our castle secret. And whenever the call to your home calls you back, we'll pounce on your parents."

A deep voice laughed. "The description is spot on."

Isabella's face lit up. "Arin! How are you?"

"According to the circumstances."

Armin couldn't look up and look his father in the eye. He had failed his brother. His guilt was overwhelming.

Suddenly, Isabella lowered her hands and gave Arin a quick squeeze, leaving father and son alone.

It was quiet for a long time, only Pocket's chewing sounds could be heard. Then his father suddenly growled. "His son is a pirate. I'm so proud."

Armin grinned involuntarily. "I sincerely hope so, sir."

Arin grunted in agreement and leaned against the pillar next to Pocket. Arin's joke reminded Armin that he wasn't a kid anymore. He looked up and met the black knight's eyes. The twisted one immediately.

"Don't tell me you blame yourself."

"I should have prevented it."

"Nonsense. I don't know exactly what happened yet, but whatever it was. We both know you're a bigger hen than your mother. You sure did what you could."

Armin eyed his father skeptically. "How do you always do that, dammit? How can you know something is wrong before someone enlightens you?"

Arin responded with a devious smile. Armin shook uncomprehendingly. That's what had always confused him about his father. Was that normal? Or was it just Arin?

"Look at Armin. The fact is, Jacob is my son. Not yours. Besides, he made the decision. The consequences were certainly fatal when such a tiresome sunshine was so intimidated that it appeared before me trembling and trembling. Where even the whole village knows that Jac is taking a beating with Campbell's head held high. So it wasn't because I was afraid."

Armin dropped the empty bucket by the door and leaned against a post opposite his father.

"How can you not blame me for this?"

"Why? Because I didn't prevent my ten-year-old brat from putting himself in danger? Can you explain to me what you have to do with this? Although, let it be. I can imagine what you're going to say."

"It sucks!" cried Armin, suddenly overwhelmed by his anger. "He'll never forget it again! He'll have to nibble on it for a long time!"

"That sucks, but it can't be helped." Arin pretended to be more casual than he actually was. Armin saw the guilt and worry in his eyes. His father ran a hand through his hair. "It's dinner time, Armin."

"I'll be right back."

Arin nodded, patted his shoulder, and headed for the door. Before he was gone, he growled softly.

"What happened to Arthur isn't your fault either."

One moment he felt comforted, the next moment he was outraged. How the hell did he manage to stay in the know!?

BULLY

Arin and Isabella embraced one last time, then she mounted, grinning wistfully. His son helped her gallantly before hugging Elain. "See you, stay healthy."

Elain nodded confidently. "I don't live in a drafty castle. Don't underestimate that. So many other noblemen have already caught consumption."

“We brought tapestries. I guess we'll get it under control soon."

With that, Armin swung himself into the armchair, winked at his siblings at the hut and rode away with Isabella and little Ari.

"You think he just made up the rugs to calm me down?" Elain grunted, wrapping her arm around Arin's waist.

"I don't know...probably."

"I'll pull the fur over his ears..."

The trip got pretty wet and muddy thanks to the never ending spring rains. When we got home to our castle, we were mud-spattered and soaked.

The inner courtyard was pure mud, but the flowers that had begun to grow on the castle wall were in full bloom. Smoke was coming out of the soldiers' quarters and our goods from the journey were under a makeshift roof of straw shingles.

Ari dismounted first and then took Armin's and my horse over to the stables. So the two of us hurried through the mud to our castle.

It smelled of fresh straw and lavender that had just been laid out. We heard logs crackle and felt the warmth of a fire.

Jenny, one of our maids, came towards us with two steaming loaves of bread on a board and widened her eyes.

"My lord! My lady!" neither of us had heard that for a long time.

Armin smiled friendly. "Having lunch?"

"Totally right."

"Then we'll change clothes first and then join them."

Jenny nodded and followed, grinning, into the hall.

Syman sat on a bench with his daughter on his lap doing tricks with his fingers, Enna's green eyes lit up as she tried again and again.

Aliec was leaning over the table, filling the mugs. It was she who discovered us. "Armin! Isabella!"

Syman's head snapped up immediately. He lifted his child from his knee, got up and hugged Armin roughly. He squeezed me a little more gently. "How are you?"

"The circumstances..."

"Now, my lord, sit down." I noticed that Syman's mischievous glint was missing from his eyes.

So I pointed out the window. "Arin is in the stable with the horses."

An almost leaden heaviness settled over us. Aliec pressed his lips together and looked at Syman's back. He looked at me absently for a moment, then walked out at a leisurely pace.

Little Enna smiled shyly at Armin. Her red hair lay loose on her shoulder. "Is he alright?" Armin crouched down in front of her and kissed her forehead.

"Naturally. You missed him a lot, yes?"

Enna nodded sadly. "Since we were born he was always with me..."

Aliec stroked her daughter's hair. “She cried a lot and bitterly. Even I didn't expect her to suffer so badly."

"The bond that binds twins is amazing..." I whispered, envying the two siblings for not being as lonely as I was.

Ari finished rubbing Argos with the straw, wrapped a blanket around his neck and patted his nostrils. He heard the stable door, recognized his father's step, and struggled for courage.

He turned to him, but looked up reluctantly.

His father leaned one shoulder against the post, didn't say a word and didn't show any anger at all. He was so calm that Arin didn't know if he would have preferred that or a roar. And because the silence bothered him, Ari burst out.

"It was a stupid idea, sir. I thought an adventure would be fun. Seeing the sea and experiencing what it means to be a sailor. You must be disappointed in me... I'm so sorry."

"That you're here or that you left?"

Ari knew the answer but didn't want to say it. He just looked silently at his father and we didn't get an answer.

Then a corner of Syman's mouth lifted. He went to Ari and hugged him. Without hesitation, Ari hugged back in relief. "Didn't you think that I would miss you and worry?"

To be honest, no. He didn't. And that made him feel bad. "I am sorry. That honestly wasn't my intention."

Syman broke away from the boys, still smiling. "Was it at least nice on board?"

Ari felt the old euphoria rising. "It was great."

The otherwise strict man crouched down in front of his son and seriously examined the expression in his eyes. "Did you want to go to sea because then you're free?"

That had been a key reason. In any case.

"Yes, sir."

Syman felt like crying. "Would you rather be a sailor than a knight?"

"Yes..."

"Good."

The boy didn't quite understand. "As?"

"I'm not going to force you to become a knight." As well. Was he raised by a man who had the same look in his eyes as his son just now. "But I won't let you go to sea until you're fourteen. By then you will." let me know when you feel the need for...adventures again."

A tear ran down Ari's cheek. "You understand me?"

"I do. I can't quite understand it. But I've seen where stopping travelers leads." He thought of his two cousins. "I want to try something different. But I have to trust that you'll always be honest with me and never just ride away again."

The boy nodded in dismay. "And I was afraid I'd never smell the sea air again... I thought you were disappointed in me."

Syman shook his head. He was a little hurt. Ari was his only son. His heritage and the one that would have made him proud as a knight.

And now he didn't just want to be a knight. But a sailor who would hardly be on the mainland.

To be honest, he already missed his son. But he wouldn't stand in his way. As strict as he was, he was not a tyrant.

Ari fell into his arms relieved. "Thanks..."

41

EVERYDAY LIFE

Lunch had been meager, but Armin was content. Isabella had decided to visit the maid's baby. Armin simply didn't notice whose maid the baby belonged to. But it didn't particularly bother him either.

The rain had finally stopped, so Armin walked across the yard with Syman and asked to be updated.

"Everything else is fine. Your situation got better after the lease. Of course you didn't get much money, but a bunch of piglets, cows and other things that the farmers could give away."

Armin nodded contentedly. "Knowing you, you must have turned a blind eye. If someone couldn't pay."

Syman smiled. "I know that you would have done it yourself. What you will write in the books is then up to you."

"Ah, wonderful." Armin needed a bit of effort for the next one. "You quarreled with father?"

Syman nodded grimly. "Disagreements. We were both worried about our sons. And Arin was getting more and more angry with Jacob and dying of longing for you. If you tell him I told you that, I'll never speak to you again."

Armin raised his fingers in a childlike oath. So Syman continued. "I know your father better than I know myself. I know I should avoid him at those moments. And yet we fought. So Arin huffed and chased me away. Elain might have been mad at him. She didn't want us to be like that split up. But it's best to leave Arin alone if that's what he wants."

That was a fact. "Why were you there anyway?"

"We were at different ports in England. We hoped the boys would pick up there. After a week we gave up. Maybe because we were arguing."

"What was the trigger anyway?"

"Something mundane. Something like a seatie, or a jug. Just to let off steam, I guess."

"When are you going to sort this out?"

Almost shyly, Syman smiled. "I was hoping that you would come home soon so I could ride to him."

"So it still hurts you when Dad doesn't talk to you?" It was almost uncanny how dependent Syman's mood was on Arin's mood.

"It almost kills me."

Suddenly something bothered Armin in the corner of his eye. Something happened that he didn't like at all. It was the security guard Ralph, who was holding a dirty and starving boy by the hair and yelling angrily at him. Instead of being humble, the child yelled back, undeterred.

Armin had to laugh. "Look at that. He's got guts."

Together they approached the bickering couple. Ralph let it sail into the mud with enough shrink and nodded politely to the lord of the castle. "My lord."

"Ralph. Who is that?"

"A thief and good-for-nothing haunting us swit days."

The muddy boy glared up at the guard. "Who do you call a good-for-nothing!?"

Syman crouched down to the boys, grinning. "Didn't we have a deal, Philip?"

"I know. But that one didn't stick to it."

Ralph looked pleadingly at Armin. "Allow me to throw the boy out and not let him back in. Please!"

"First I want to know about the deal."

Without prompting, Philip enlightened him. "I get food if I ask for it respectfully and politely. Syman said I'd get boots in the winter too if I helped out in the stables."

"And what does Ralph have to do to fulfill the deal?"

"He has to let me into the kitchen."

"My lord!" Ralph protested. "He has stolen."

"Get up Philip." Armin mumbled with a grin. "Come into the hall. Let's talk."

In the hall, Armin eyed the skinny boy. His clothes were torn and had holes in them. Of course he was dirty and obviously starving. But his eyes were large and clear, looking healthy. They were blue and both curious and alert. His brown hair was a little long and knotted.

"How old are you Philip? And where are you from? Tell me a little bit about yourself." Armin sat down and sent the maid Jenny for bread and butter.

Philip stood across from him and kept his eyes on him. "I'm six years old and come from an orphanage in Nottingham. But that burned down after the New Year."

"It's almost Easter. What have you been doing for so long? Stealing?"

Almost rebellious, Philip spread his arms. "I'm small and starving. Nobody gives me work."

"Did you steal from me too?" Jenny brought Armin the things he had been given, eyed the child in confusion and disappeared. Armin drew his dagger, smeared butter on the dark bread and held it out to Philip.

He took it hesitantly. "No..."

"But who?"

"A farmer's wife. There are only three eggs."

Armin grinned. "I can think of something better for you than an egg thief."

At the word thief, Philip winced, but said nothing. "What? I want to work honestly. If you know something for me, I'll take it immediately."

Junhe would be something for Isabella, thought Armin with a smile. The typical English courtesy was obviously missing. She would like that.

"Be careful, Philip. From today you are my page until you are old enough to be a squire. After that you can decide whether you want to be knighted or not."

Philip had already finished eating the large slice of bread and was shaking his head busily. "I'm not your slave!"

"Pages are not slaves."

The six-year-old skeptically weighed the pros and cons. "What's in it for me?"

"A warm bed, clothes, food and you learn to read. You also have the opportunity to become something other than a farmer."

"And for you?"

"I finally have a squire who blames me for the shit I don't want to do. You'll run errands for me, serve as part of the staff and whatever else comes up. But I'm not a tyrant, I'll tell you that right away."

"Are you going to hit me too?" Embarrassed, Philip played with his fingers. But he bravely stared at Armin.

He almost fell off the bench. "As?"

"At the orphanage they did it for every idiot."

Armin raised his hands as if in an oath. "I'm definitely not going to do it like that." Philip followed Armin's every move as he got up and walked over to the boys. "Wait here for my wife Isabella. She will show you a room and give you something to eat."

The blue eyes lit up. "Thank you, my lord."

Armin could also have imagined it, but Philip's undertone struck him as playful.

Philip's hair was soft and velvety, like the most expensive fabric in the country, after the wash he tried to save for his life. After I cut them, they curled up into big curls. "You're going to make a handsome man, Philip. Women like men with curly hair."

The boy sat in front of me on a stool and dangled his small thin feet. He resented me for having to take a bath. So he just grumbled softly.

"Stop sulking now. I promised I'd bring you some bread with lots of honey when we're done." Otherwise I would probably never have put the child in the tub of water without leaving a lasting impression. "Or don't you want honey bread? I can understand it. The fresh, still warm bread on which the honey melts..."

Philip turned around abruptly. "Yes, I want!"

Thank God, six-year-olds were still easy to win over. I put my tools aside and gave him a bright smile. After the bath, I had only thrown a large, thin linen shirt from Armin over him. He looked pretty cute. But you should never say that to boys.

"Promise me you'll wait here for me."

Philip shook his head busily. "I want to go with you!"

"You're practically naked."

He casually shrugged his skinny shoulder and pursed his lips. "Don't bother me."

I almost gave in to those beautiful children's eyes, but it was only spring and still too cold to walk around like that. "No. You will catch your death. Stay by the fireplace and don't get burned."

I was almost to the door when the two hands grabbed mine. "Is this my room now?"

"Right."

"I don't have to share this?"

"Not for the time being. But if Armin's friends come, the miners here will sleep with you."

Philip raised his eyebrows. "I've never had a bed to myself." When a commotion broke out outside the window, he immediately rammed down and watched what happened.

On the way to the kitchen, Armin almost knocked me down on the stairs. He caught me in his hand and hugged me to him. "Careful, milady."

"Are you in a hurry?"

He sighed wearily. "We have a farmer outside who is selling us some chickens. And he crashed his cart into the cart with the horse manure." He shook his head annoyed. "Feathers and horse shit everywhere. Now the two idiots are fighting."

While Armin was still speaking, he became loud in the hall. I heard angry chickens cackling. Armin's face became expressionless. "Woe to her poor soul..."

We rushed down the narrow tower stairs to our hall and nearly fainted. My mouth fell open in an unladylike manner. Armin blankly searched the room for the culprits.

At least a dozen chickens flew about in agitated manner, carrying in the manure from outside. The two maids, who were about to go about their work, jumped up and shooed the creatures all the more. The maid's baby babbled, a stray came in and peed on the wall. The soldiers, attracted by the noise, also carried the mud into the hall. While they were trying to catch the chickens, Ralph stood between a young stable boy and a farmer.

"Wow!" Philip called out over the noise. He stood behind us on the stairs. "I already love living here!"

A slap echoed over to us. Ralph yelled at the stable boy, then at the farmer. "Armin... I'm about to be hit."

Armin nodded, stomped through the room and yelled so loud that suddenly everything went quiet. Only a few chickens wriggled back and forth. "What the hell is going on here!?"

"My lord, that rascal got into the peasants' carts."

Armin looked at Jerome, who was maybe thirteen. "No sir. I wasn't near the cart."

"Who was beaten here?" The men pointed to Jerome. "First of all, if anyone hits my stable hands again, it'll be me. No one else! Second, nothing justifies what I've heard about the chickens being loose in my shed! I have an explanation!"

Suddenly the stray remembered his hunting instinct and tried to get the chickens. The roar started again.

Philip laughed behind me and was about to throw himself into the fray when I hurriedly grabbed his sleeve. "Out of the question. Armin doesn't look very patient. Let's both keep our distance."

"But Lady Isabella, look at the beautiful chaos."

"Look at your employer's black eyes. Better watch it from here."

He whined indignantly, but obeyed politely and wriggled around next to me. Armin was so angry. I was actually just shocked. Philip pointed to the dog. "Do you think my employer will allow me to keep him?" I couldn't even answer, the idea was so absurd. But Philip didn't seem to mean the question anyway.

It took until dusk to get rid of the chickens, the dog and the farmer. I sent Jerome into the village to buy trousers and a shirt for Philip from a peasant woman. In the meantime I knelt in the hall with a few soldiers and cleaned.

The boy was sitting on the stairs and nagging at our ears. Until Armin entered the hall. Tired and dirty, he let his gaze wander over his small hall. "The yard is cleaned up so far."

"We're so far here that we can at least have dinner."

Armin smiled joylessly. "The farmer says he's missing five chickens... They'll still be around here somewhere."

I got up exhausted and also let my eyes wander over the hall. "That can not be true."

The scowling Campbell looked at Philip and cocked his head. "Is that my shirt?" The boy nodded unabashedly. "Becomes you."

"I couldn't put his rags back on. They were full of fleas. I burned them as they were."

"It's important."

"We had the understanding that he would be waiting in his chamber. But how can you expect that from a child with such a commotion?"

Armin nodded and motioned for the child to come to him. "Here's my coat. Take it to the kitchen and tell Jenny to brush it straight away."

"He doesn't even know himself from Armin."

"He got the food from the kitchen beforehand."

"I'll take it to Jenny for you."

But Armin shook his head. "He's my page. And if you ask him if he'd rather just sit and wait or do something..." Philip nodded busily, grabbed the heavy red coat and trudged towards the kitchen. "Don't tease him too much, senorita."

"But the child is so thin and weak..."

"That was Syman back then, too. If you trust them, they feel needed. Everyone needs that."

Still a little skeptical, I agreed. Just as Armin was about to kiss me, a chicken appeared between us out of nowhere and lost some brown feathers in her hysteria...