Flynn walked along the cobbled road, swiping the dirty blonde hair from his eyes as he managed to barely keep up with the knight, Sir Egan, as the armored man hurried forward. Sir Egan had said something about a planned bandit attack in the next village when he had roused Flynn from his sleep, and since then, the two had been hurrying along the road for hours.

“My water, boy.” Sir Egan said, his voice raspy.

Moving forward, Flynn dutifully took the bottle out of his bag and handed it to the knight. Yes, Flynn was Sir Egan’s squire, having started earlier than most boys did. Many had chastised Sir Egan’s choice in picking Flynn, with most saying the boy was still too small to be able to serve him in his knightly duties effectively. It was true, with his small frame, Flynn was smaller than most boys his age, though he never did get picked on back home. His hands were still smooth and skin pale as his parents never had him do any manual labor, and many said that he would not be fit for the life of a squire.

Flynn, however, had enjoyed his first few days as a squire.

“We have to hurry.” Sir Egan said as he handed the water back to Flynn. “We should arrive at the next village shortly. We don’t want to be too late.”

Bandit attacks had been becoming more common lately. This came in the immediate aftermath of the King declaring that taxes would be raised threefold to compensate for the losses the Kingdom took during the last war. The common people did not take too well to this news and began protesting, but the King sent his knights across the realm to put down these uprisings. Ever since then, it’s been a war between bandits and the King’s knights.

The boy could not say he did not sympathize with the bandits, however. Because Flynn was also a commoner, he understood their struggles, and he had been one of the lucky few common boys to be promised a better life by being taken as a squire by a noble knight.

Of course, there was some resentment amongst the people of his village when the news came that he would be taken as a squire. The villagers felt that he would be betraying them, the people of the realm, by becoming a squire and essentially siding with the knights and the King. Even his own parents had begged him not to go, and tried to offer him every incentive they could to stay. The promise of castles and adventures was too tempting however, and Flynn had readily left his village to serve as Sir Egan’s squire.

Wiping the sweat from his pale forehead, the boy continued to try to keep up with Sir Egan. The trees along the road had grown thicker by now, and the sun was high, shining in his eyes. Unable to see properly, Flynn squinted at the trees as he thought he saw movement in the trees, before arrows suddenly started whizzing through the air.

“Get down!”

Flynn froze as half a dozen arrows came hurtling through the air, but Sir Egan had reacted quickly, throwing the boy to the floor. Flynn has narrowly avoided being killed by the hail of arrows, but Sir Egan was struck by the rest of them, four arrows now sticking out of his breastplate.

Grunting, Sir Egan struggled to remain on his feet as the bandits showed themselves, appearing from the trees. It had been a trap, they had allowed false news of a planned attack to reach Sir Egan’s ears, and then planned an ambush on the road. Still frozen with fear, Flynn remained on the ground, eyes wide as he watched the six bandits circle Sir Egan.

Sir Egan moved first, unsheathing his sword, and a bandit responded by firing another arrow into his chest. Sir Egan managed to avoid the next arrow fired by the next bandit, and with sword in hand, cut down two of the bandits that moved to engage him. The bandits that were armed with bows continued to pepper Sir Egan with arrows, however, and even his thick armor could not withstand that many arrows at such a close range. Sir Egan collapsed to his knees as he drove his sword in a third bandit, unable to continue fighting anymore. The remaining bandits did not take any chances, though, and Flynn was forced to watch as the bandits remained in their circular formation around Sir Egan’s kneeling figure, shooting arrows into his limp body.

Eventually, Sir Egan’s body was riddled with arrows, at least three dozen of them sticking out of his armor, and the proud knight slumped heavily forward, unmoving. Flynn felt his lips tremble as one bandit, the leader, approached the fallen knight, and removed his helmet.

“Another knight to add to your collection.” The bowman behind him said, slinging his bow over his shoulders.

“What is this, your fifth?” Another, a huge man asked.

“Eighth.” The bandit leader corrected.

“Wow, you sure are making a name for yourself. Soon, they’ll be calling you the knight-slayer.”

The bandits chuckled as they put Sir Egan’s helmet into a duffel bag and pulling out the arrows in his body. They needed the supplies, Flynn knew, and had to scavenge hard for every arrow they had.

“Hey, what about the boy there?”

As if suddenly noticing the frightened boy, the bandits turned their attention to Flynn. Flynn cowered as they approached, and lowered his eyes as the bandit leader knelt down, taking his chin in his hands and looking the boy up and down.

“What’s your name boy.” The man asked, his eyes cold and dark.

Flynn did not respond, too afraid to speak.

“Answer the boss when he’s speaking to you boy!” The large bandit yelled, raising his large boot and slamming it down on Flynn’s still hairless legs.

The boy screamed as the boot came down on his knees, whimpering and trying to crawl away from the men, only to be kicked in the stomach for his efforts.

“F-Flynn.” He finally answered, clutching at his stomach. “My name is Flynn.”

“Flynn, huh?” The bowman muttered, his voice smooth. “That’s a commoner’s name. Most commoners don’t travel around with knights.”

“You lying to us boy?” The big bandit said, threatening to hurt Flynn again. Flynn could only plead for mercy as he closed his eyes, begging to be let go.

“Stop it.” The bandit leader said. “Let’s hear what he has to say.” He turned to Flynn. “You’re a squire?”

Flynn nodded, glancing at Sir Egan’s corpse behind the bandits.

“Wrong.” The bowman snickered. “You were a squire, not anymore.”

The leader scoffed at his two companions’ snickering. “Can you two shut up and focus. A squire could still cost much even if his knight is dead.”

“You’re right!” The huge bandit’s eyes lighted up. “He’s probably the son of some rich nobleman with lots of gold! Tell me boy, do you have brothers? If he’s an only son, we can double the ransom!”

“I’m not a rich man’s son.” Flynn muttered timidly, interrupting the bandits’ conversation. “I-I’m just another boy, a commoner.”

The bandits grew flustered as he spoke.

“A fucking commoner? You liar!”

“No, no please listen!” Flynn raised his hands to protect himself as the large bandit seemed as if he were about to strike the boy again. “Sir Egan took me as his squire last week, I was the only boy from my village taken as a squire this year, it doesn’t happen often. I am a commoner.”

The large bandit continued his threats and screaming, but the bandit leader raised his hand to silence him. Leaning in close, his eyes serious, the bandit leader began to speak softly.

“You cannot be a commoner, because, no matter which backwater village you’re from, you’ve had to have heard of what’s going on between us bandits and the knights.”

He paused, taking a slow, deep breath, and Flynn’s heart raced as he waited for him to finish speaking. Beside him, he noticed the dagger Sir Egan had given him that fell to the floor during the fight.

“So tell me, Flynn.” The bandit leader continued. “Why would a commoner leave his people, village, family, and friends, to help a knight travel around and kill people who are just like him?”

Flynn’s mouth opened and closed, at a loss for words.

“Speak only the truth now, boy.” The bowman said.