Michael awoke before the sunrise and crept quietly out of the infirmary. There were guards up on the makeshift walls, doing a better job of staying awake than many of the professional soldiers he'd worked with. Perhaps it was because it was their own families and homes that sat behind them. He muffled himself and walked around the village until he found a more open area. Within it he saw multiple straw dummies, a cleared path for running, and several circles of stones that reminded him of sparring in Stent. He stepped into the nearest of them and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Seras, please protect and watch over those I care for.

Nykas, help me to find joy even in desperation.

Bruntus, make me steady and dependable.

Veras, fill my days with love even if it hurts.

Durand, grant me the strength to keep going.

Estaid, watch my choices and help me to know what is right."

He paused for a moment before continuing to the second part of his prayer.

"To honor you all I will be the shield that protects the weak, the champion that works to create a world of easy laughter, a steady presence that acts in your honor, a lover of all under your protection, a strong arm to strike at evil, and the eyes that witness your judgement."

As he finished he could feel the eyes of the gods, their presence, completely focused on him for just a moment. He inhaled, drinking in their divinity deeply, the certainty they gave him, the righteousness. When he was done he opened his eyes and drew Rend.

He took his usual stance and began to do his usual routine. It was beginning to get ridiculous. Nearly a thousand rapid strikes from different angles with his sword, followed by a similar number with Ruin. All varied by multiple different stances and using his full power with each strike. He didn't usually even begin breaking a sweat until he was nearly done with his sword, and after even a short moment to catch his breath he was ready to go again.

In order to make sure he was getting a decent workout at all, he'd begun to practice his magic while he was doing his other training. He summoned barriers and tried to break them with his mace, or tried to use them to create steps he could climb or use to gain leverage. He had already learned to create barriers in front of vulnerable areas on his body automatically when he went into battle, but Ollie had given him a number of pointers on how to use them even more effectively. He wasn't sure he'd be able to utilize them in a fight yet, but then, that was exactly why he was practicing.

He was really starting to feel his workout when he sensed a few people behind him. He turned to see Laird and the two squires.

Michael nodded at them, and Laird gave a stonefaced nod in return. One of the squires gave him a friendly wave, but the other just kept his eyes ahead and his face expressionless. As he continued his workout, Laird began walking the squires through a number of stretches, then started them working on basic swordsmanship.

One of the squires, the smiling one, was a natural with a blade, but Laird was continuously correcting his form. The other was a solid swordsman, but seemed to be very hesitant to put his full power into his strikes. As if he was worried he would hurt himself or others. Even when Laird was encouraging him to hit him at full strength, he seemed to be pulling back at the last moment. In battle, that would be fatal.

"Let Bawn hit me, Ser Laird." Offered the smiling squire. "I'm sure he wants to strike me full strength after I stole Julia away."

"You didn't 'steal' Julia, Clyde. She simply chose you. A poor choice, but these village girls don't have a proper education."

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Laird sighed heavily and shook his head. "I wish they'd kept the old vow of chastity… Well Bawn, since Clyde volunteered you two are going to spar."

Clyde's smile widened and he stepped into a circle near Michael who was wrapping up another hundred strikes against his own barrier spell. Bawn followed him and they took their places at either end.

"Do you mind if I watch?" asked Michael.

Laird frowned. "I will not stop you."

Michael nodded and took his place on the opposite side of Laird. He leaned a bit toward Bawn. "You know, I'm a healer. Even if you managed to cut one of his limbs off with that wooden blade, I'd be able to fix him in an instant."

"Really?" asked Bawn.

Michael nodded. "You could beat him near to death and I could fix him."

"I don't much care for the direction of your discussion," said Clyde with a frown.

"Ignore him, both of you. Focus up!" said Laird.

They both snapped to attention and readied their swords.

"Fight!"

Clyde stepped toward Bawn quickly with a stab directly aimed at his solar plexus.

Bawn swatted away the strike with a well practiced sweep of his sword and then went for a backhanded strike at the side of Clyde's head.

The smiling swordsman ducked under the blow and aimed another of his stabs for Bawn's gut, before quickly correcting and slamming it against his knee.

Bawn gritted his teeth and actually kicked out with the struck leg, surprising Clyde and putting him on the back foot. From there, Bawn swung his sword in a harsh downward swing that took the other squire on the shoulder. He dropped to his knees with a cry and clutched his shoulder as he began to roll on the ground.

"Damn, I'm sorry!" began Bawn, but Michael had already raised a hand to start healing Clyde. He could see why Bawn had been hesitating. He wasn't as skilled a swordsman, but he actually had a very strong killer instinct. His strike had been merciless and executed with his full power.

Clyde stopped rolling around and brought himself to his feet.

"I'm sorry," said Bawn.

Clyde shook his head. "Don't be. I earned that one I'd say." He looked at Michael. "Thanks for that."

"If the Taker hadn't interfered you wouldn't have taken that blow in the first place," replied Laird.

"You're not wrong," replied Michael. "But sometimes painful lessons are more valuable."

"Hrmm," replied Laird, clearly agreeing with the sentiment, but unwilling to be enthusiastic in his agreement with a taker.

"You two should spar," said Clyde with a smile.

Laird looked Michael up and down and shook his head. "We would need full armor and dulled swords to spar properly. Wooden ones would break. Besides, no knight should give a taker the honor of a spar."

Michael frowned. He would normally assume a man making an excuse like that was because he was afraid, but that didn't mesh with what he'd seen of Laird so far. From what he could tell, the Knight meant it exactly as he said.

"What about your squires?" asked Michael.

Laird raised an eyebrow. "You wish to fight them?"

"I think I could teach them a thing or two. Unless it would be too dishonorable even for a squire to fight me."

"Both of them at once?" he asked.

"It would be more fair that way, yes."

Laird's frown deepened, but he nodded. 'There is value in fighting a stronger opponent. Particularly as a team. There is one lesson in particular I think it would teach you. If you two wish it, and feel it would not hurt your honor, then you may."

"I'm game," said Clyde, twirling his wooden sword a bit.

"I as well," said Bawn.

"Okay then," replied Laird. "I will moderate."

Michael nodded and carefully placed Rend and Ruin on a nearby weapon rack, before grabbing a wooden sword. He neglected to grab a shield, he didn't need it in this case.

He took his place facing the two squires and they exchanged a few nods and whispered a strategy before giving one another some distance.

Once they were in place, Michael smiled. "Durand, please grant these two the strength they need to provide me with a challenge."

"Durand?" asked Clyde.

"God of strength."

Laird raised a hand high, and dropped it quickly. "Fight!".

Bawn and Clyde attacked from separate directions and angles simultaneously. It was clear that they were hoping to get in a good strike by attacking him in such a way that he couldn't possibly guard.

Unfortunately for them, it wasn't his plan to guard. He swept his sword in a long arc on the midline just as they were reaching him. It hit Clyde before his sword could reach him and kept moving until Clyde collided with Bawn who also hadn't hit Michael yet. His single strike sent them both tumbling across the ground in a tangled mess until they stopped in a groaning pile.

Michael walked calmly over to them healing a broken wrist and snapped tendon as well as a mess of bruises before helping them disentangle.

"Looks like Durand couldn't give you quite the boost I'd hoped. Maybe if you two pray to him independently next time, it'll help."

Bawn just shook his head and sat in the mud for a moment.

Clyde looked to Laird. "What lesson was that supposed to teach us?" he asked.

"That occasionally the smart thing to do when faced with a superior opponent, is to refuse the challenge."