Chapter Sixteen #3
At one point, Stefan clipped Cassius on the arm, drawing blood.
Cassius wasn’t quick to temper, which was quite different from his father.
He had patience that Maximus didn’t. That had been evident all morning.
He was also a very hard worker. Even though it was clear that he was uncertain about what he was doing, he tried to do everything that Scott and Troy told him. He listened well.
“Already, I see skill in him,” Gallus said confidently as he watched Cassius take a rather strong swing at Stefan. “He will make a fine knight.”
Maximus, arms crossed as he observed the scene, shrugged. “If it is something he wants to do,” he said. “Unfortunately, the boy has not grown up around knights. It is not something he has been privy to his entire life. He is very uncomfortable swinging a sword.”
Gallus could see that, too. He grunted in agreement. “He will improve,” he said. “Already, he has a very good grip and a good deal of strength. He is most definitely your son.”
Maximus watched as Stefan clipped the boy again with the sharp edge of the sword and he could tell that Cassius was trying not to become upset about it. Already, he had several little bloodied nicks on his arms, adding to the humiliation of the session.
“He is much calmer than I am,” Maximus finally said. “By now, I would have clobbered Stefan with my fist.”
Gallus chuckled. “Stefan is trying to get him to fight back.”
Maximus nodded. “I know he is,” he said. “But having never used a weapon before, Cassius does not yet know how to. However, maybe if….”
He trailed off and Gallus looked at him curiously. Maximus appeared very thoughtful before emitting a sharp whistle between his teeth. Everyone came to a halt, turning to look at him. Maximus pointed to the men with swords.
“Drop the weapons,” he commanded. When Stefan and Cassius immediately set the swords on the ground, Maximus continued. “Cassius, Stefan has cut you quite a bit this morning. I cannot imagine that pleases you.”
Cassius was trying not to appear disgruntled, wiping at his bloodied arms. “N-Nay, m’lord.”
“He is doing it to help you.”
Cassius simply nodded, although he had no idea what Maximus meant. Help him do what? Bleed to death? As he looked at his scratched arms, Maximus continued.
“Cassius,” he said. “Since Stefan is no longer holding a sword, what would you do to a man who repeatedly hurt you?”
Cassius wasn’t sure what Maximus meant. He looked at Stefan, who was a very large man, but Cassius was also a very large man. He didn’t have the muscle structure yet that Stefan did, but pound for pound, they were nearly equal in mass.
“I… I-I would not let him d-do it again,” he finally said.
Maximus was driving at something. He was trying to bring out the boy’s inner beast, the one who would fight for his very life. So far, Cassius had never had cause to do that. It was time for him to learn.
“How?” Maximus asked.
Cassius was eyeing Stefan, who was gazing back at him quite unemotionally. “I-I would fight him.”
“With what?”
“My f-fists.”
Maximus took a few steps in Cassius and Stefan’s direction. “He’s trying to kill you, boy,” he suddenly boomed, causing Cassius to jump at the sheer volume of the man’s voice. “He’s trying to kill you and you just stand there and let him. Kill him before he kills you! Kill him!”
He was yelling quite aggressively and Cassius, spurred on by his voice and the sight of all those bloody nicks on his arms, realized he had been made a fool of and he launched himself at Stefan, ramming his head right into the knight’s midsection and wrapping his arms around his torso.
Before Stefan realized what had hit him, he was lying on his back with the wind knocked out of him as Cassius came down on top of him, fists flying.
It was all Stefan could do to get his arms up so he could protect his head.
Gallus grinned as Scott and Troy rushed to break up the fight. Maximus, however, yelled to his knights.
“Nay,” he bellowed. “Better to let the boy work through it. Stefan, if you can hear me, you are permitted to fight back!”
Stefan did indeed hear him and soon, Stefan and Cassius were rolling around on the ground, throwing serious punches at each other, while Gallus stood back and laughed at the whole thing.
It was attracting quite a crowd as soldiers began to gather, watching the two men go at one another.
Scott and Troy simply kept the crowd back, watching Cassius land a fairly serious blow on Stefan’s mouth.
Maximus, however, couldn’t have been prouder of the boy.
Finally, the de Shera compulsion was coming forth.
“Max,” Gallus said from behind him. “He has that killer instinct you do. All you needed to do was bring it out in him. If I were you, I’d stop him before he hurts Stefan or even himself.”
Maximus, smiling, glanced at his brother. “I will,” he said. “I just wanted to see if he had the de Shera fighting instinct. I am proud to see that he does. Mayhap it is not with a sword yet, but it is definitely with his fists.”
Gallus chuckled as Maximus caught Scott and Troy’s attention, directing them to stop the fight.
Troy reached in to grasp Cassius but Cassius, infuriated and in fighting mode, threw a punch that sent Troy onto his arse.
Shaking the bells off, Troy pushed himself up and tried again while Scott took hold of Stefan and dragged the man out from under Cassius.
But in doing so, he bumped into a soldier, who in turn fell into a group of men standing there watching the fight.
Someone shoved, another man threw a punch, and soon there was a full-scale brawl going on, now amongst the de Shera soldiers.
Gallus stopped laughing long enough to move towards the roiling mass of fighting men, yelling for them to stand down.
Out-of-control fighting was never a good thing.
Maximus was already there, tossing men aside, concentrating on stopping the brawl until he realized that Cassius was right in the middle of it, dropping men with a powerful right-handed blow.
Maximus couldn’t help but chuckle at his son, who was indeed at home in the middle of a fight whether or not he realized it.
It was in his blood. He was, indeed, a de Shera.
“Max!”
Maximus could hear Courtly screaming at him and he immediately scrambled away from the mass of men, spying his wife standing on the stairs of the keep. He made his way towards her, seeing from her expression that she was quite distressed. She pointed to the fight as he made his way up the steps.
“What on earth is happening there?” she demanded. “We could see it from the top of the keep!”
Maximus gave her a lazy grin, turning to look at the fight, which was mostly breaking up now with Scott, Troy, Gallus and even Stefan pushing men apart and attempting to calm the situation.
“It all started with Cassius and Stefan engaging in some sword play,” he said.
“Cassius is very timid and Stefan kept trying to draw the lad out. Finally, I had them drop the swords and provoked Cassius to the point where he attacked Stefan with his fists. I am very proud to say that he took on a much more skilled knight and held his own in a fist fight.”
Courtly looked at her husband, an expression of exasperation on her face. “God’s Bones,” she exclaimed softly, shaking her head. She pointed to Cassius, now standing on the outskirts of the battle zone, watching what was going on. “Look at him. He is a mess!”
Maximus was as puffed up as a prideful peacock. “He is a de Shera.”
Courtly couldn’t hold her exasperation for long. The inevitable smile crept onto her lips at her husband’s prideful boasting. Resigned, she shook her head.
“Aye, he is,” she said. “I knew that without having to watch him in a fist fight. Look at him, Max. He’s a bloodied mess. Send him to me and I will clean him up.”
Maximus shook his head. “He will clean himself up,” he said. “Let the boy become a man.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “If you get in a fight, I clean you up,” she said. “Does that make you any less of a man to have your wife help you?”
He reached out, pulling her to him, lifting her off the stairs and nuzzling her cheek. “I am all man,” he growled in her ear, “as you well know. Now, go back inside. I will come in shortly. It should be close to the nooning meal by now.”
Courtly squealed weakly in protest as Maximus nibbled on her sensitive earlobes before setting her to her feet.
“What about Cassius?” she asked, flushed at her husband’s attentions. “Will you bring him with you or will you leave him with the knights?”
Maximus’ gaze trailed out to Cassius once again, watching as Stefan approached the boy and affectionately slapped him on the side of the head.
Cassius grinned and all was right in the world again between him and Stefan, who had quickly grown close in the past few days.
Being that they were only a few years apart, Cassius seemed to identify with the silent, young knight, and Stefan didn’t mind having Maximus’ son tagging along after him.
In all, the past few days had seen Cassius quickly assimilate into life at Isenhall.
But one thing he hadn’t taken swiftly to were the women.
“I am not certain yet,” he said, turning to look at Courtly. “He seems so uncomfortable around you and Jeniver. It may be best simply to let him be with Stefan and Scott and Troy right now. A great deal has happened in his young life in the past few weeks. Better to let him settle down first.”
Courtly’s gaze lingered on the big lad standing in the bailey.
“It seems that he has not been around women very much,” she said.
“It has only been Cassius and his grandfather all of these years. Given time, he will become accustomed to us but not if you keep him away. He must become accustomed to women sooner or later.”