Chapter 3

Respect

Autumn 940 MC

BEVERLYhad grown accustomed to the saddle rather quickly, and now it was common that when the baron left the Keep on horseback, she tagged along on her pony. It was Gerald's duty, as Sergeant-at-Arms, to look after the safety of the baron and his family, and so, whenever Beverly rode out with her father, an extra contingent of soldiers followed.

Bodden had a variety of soldiers within its walls, far more than usual for a Keep of its size. It was an important stronghold on the border; the guardian against the raiders that came from the north. There were the usual footmen, mostly armed with spears, but some with swords and shields. Then there were the archers, whom the baron prized. Most used a regular bow, but a small number of them were armed with longbows that would pierce the breastplate of a heavily armoured knight. Lastly, were the horsemen, of which there were two types; soldiers of common birth, armed with swords, shields and mail, and the knights, who were a mixed blessing.

Of the knights that came to Bodden, some were outstanding, particularly the ones that the baron had trained, but more often than not, they were sent by the king with little training and no discipline. Most of them resented Gerald, for the baron had made it clear to all that his Sergeant-at-Arms was to be obeyed as if the baron himself had given the orders. This didn’t sit well with the spoiled nobility of Merceria, they knew full-well that Gerald was a commoner; worse, he was a farmer.

On this day Gerald had decided to assign two new knights to the escort. The baron was riding out to examine the grounds where the great ‘earth move’ was going to take place. Beverly was trotting along beside him, with two knights, Sir Barston and Sir Leyland, filing dutifully behind.

As they headed out the gate, Beverly turned in her saddle. “Good-bye, Gerald,” she shouted, waving her hand.

The two knights, witnessing this, turned in their seats to look at him. “Yes,” said Sir Barston, “good-bye, Gerald.” Both men snickered.

They were suddenly jolted forward as their horses halted. Baron Fitzwilliam had stopped his mount and the smile on his face from watching his young daughter suddenly turned into a scowl.

Beverly looked up at him, “Did I do something wrong, Papa?”

He smiled down at her, “No my dear, you did nothing wrong at all.”

“Then what’s wrong?” she innocently asked.

He looked down at her, leaning slightly in his saddle so that he could talk in a softer voice. “In an army, my dear, it’s important to maintain discipline and the chain of command. A soldier must always respect their leader, and when someone fails in that respect, they need to be reminded. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes Father, I shouldn’t call the sergeant by his name.”

“No, you misunderstand, my dear,” he said kindly. “You may call him Gerald whenever yo