"Why do you bow Sir Knight?  You know I am not one to accept much formalities."
    "Yes, Sire, but.."
    "But what, bow once if you must, but not twice.  It bothers me,"  Ulmerad winked at Kullvox, who began to laugh.  Garalt was confused, but not knowing what to do, just smiled nervously.  "Now, Kullvox..."
    "Yes Milord,"  Kullvox responded cheerfully.
    "We need to talk, come, the others are waiting for us,"  Ulmerad motioned toward the exit from the courtyard.  The two walked away, softly chatting, but too softly for Garalt to hear.  Garalt had always had the utmost respect for both men.  Watching them walk away, Garalt couldn't help but be reminded of his training under Kullvox' eye.  Kullvox had chosen Garalt over all the other squires to be his own, it had come as a great surprise.  Kullvox had had first pick, and it was only after several weeks was it revealed that he thought he saw great potential in the young squire.  Day after day Kullvox had taught the young squire more and more, telling him all of the knights strategies.  Kullvox had even helped Garalt find the weapon that seemed to be the best for him.

    Garalt looked over at his axe and smiled lightly.  He remembered the first time he had tried to pick it up.  The shear weight of it was massive.  Nothing like the swords and maces he had already trained with.  Kullvox had handed it to him with one hand, and Garalt could barely hold it up with two.  But after several years of practice and hard work, Garalt and his axe had become almost as one.  No longer had he need to throw all of his weight into the swing, in fact it had become and effortless swing.  But his training had not ended there.  Kullvox had insisted that his squire become proficient in all the weapons possible.  And Garalt was not one to disappoint.  In the seven years of his squire hood, Garalt had learned all of the weapons found in the barracks, though his specialty was still his axe.  He would have to wait a few more years to receive his enchanted weapon like Kullvox' mace.
    And now, at twenty one, the young knight watched his former master and his king walk away chatting idly.  Garalt picked up his weapons and walked over to a large, old stone that had fallen off the wall of the courtyard.  Slowly sitting down upon it, he looked up just in time to watch the two other men disappear into the darkness of the castle.  Garalt laid down his weapons and then picked up his sword, slowly cleaning it off with a cloth from his belt.

    Suddenly he heard a noise come from above him.  Garalt stood up and spun to see what had made the noise.  Up in one of the castle towers, sitting on one of the window sills, was a very familiar figure.  Princess Alyia had always frequented a peek at the training squires, Garalt could recall many times where he had seen her watching them.  But now, it was just him left in the court yard.  Had she been watching the squire training just to see him?
    Alyia smiled and began to laugh softly, ducking out of the window.  Garalt smiled slowly and shook his head.  "Silly girl..."

    Leena, Alyia's maid in waiting, stuck her head out of the towers window and looked over at the young knight.  Garalt calmly waved as Leena frowned in disapproval.  Garalt couldn't help but let out a chuckle.  Leena, it seemed, had a full time job and then some, looking after the young princess.  But even with her duty to the King and Queen to take care of their daughter, Leena had not forgotten to also become Alyia's friend and confidant.  Alyia's head was once again framed by the window.  Garalt stood up straight, and with as much embellishment, bowed grandly to her.  She smiled and returned a curtsy.  Garalt called up to her.
    "Milady!"   Alyia again vanished from the window.  Garalt sat back down on the stone and began to clean his weapons once more.  He sighed heavily.  Alyia was so beautiful, it was a shame to keep such a flower locked away within the castle walls.  But then again, with all the evil wandering the countryside, it was no wonder Ulmerad was so protective.