19:03:32, Saturday, 27th May 1329.

Eve of the Feast of Pentecost.

Town of Douglas, Scotland.

The combatant who asked the rude question was a red-haired boy. He lay atop his opponent, who shifted to peer up at Liam from his back, his brow furrowed in outrage. He was a brown-haired lad of smaller stature.

"I'm the new Page!" Liam said.

The two young nobles stood and re-entered the room, the fight suddenly forgotten. They beckoned him in, apologising quickly for their earlier rudeness.

As Liam entered the Page Quarters, he saw three young men dressed finely, all in similar clothing to his own. The clothes were expensive and mostly clean, despite the two lads who had acquired a fresh coating of dust from the floor.

He cleared his throat, about to introduce himself when he remembered. These were the scions of high nobility.

Despite the display of common wrestling he'd just witnessed, he had to force himself to remain standing. Even so, his leg began to bend of its own accord.

Settling on a bow since he was already half-way through the motion, Liam performed the gesture as the two combatants dusted themselves off.

“Milords, my name is L... Liam.”

The tallest boy stepped forward, his dusty right hand extended. He was one of the two brawlers. The rude red head and looked to be about 12 years old. His other defining features were freckles and large white ears that poked out from under his curly red locks.

“Ye dinnae need to call us Milords, we’re fairly informal with each other.” He said as he approached, his accent put on a bit too thick. “I’m Andrew de Leslie. Son of Sir de Leslie.”

It surprised Liam to find the boy’s hand was calloused like his own when he shook it. He’d heard complaints from a few of the village laborers that nobility supposedly didn’t work.

Maybe it depends on the noble. Liam thought.

Turning, Andrew introduced the other boys. He gestured to the smaller boy he'd wrestled with moments before. His dark brown hair and deep blue eyes twinkled with mischievous delight. “This is Aidan de Wedderburn, son of Sir Wautier de Wedderburn.”

Aidan, on being introduced, thrust his face in the air. Peering at Liam down his nose, he demanded. “Liam of who? What clan? Who is your father? Answer me, boy! Quick about it, don't make me set the hounds on ye!” He shook a fist comically above his head.

The third boy gave a snort of derision, and Andrew shook his head, mock fury suffusing his face. “Call me a hound again, you bugger, and I’ll set about you more than a mere poochie would.”

Aidan laughed at the playful retort. Turning to Liam, he gave an exuberant courtly bow. "Apologies, Liam of somewhere."

Liam shrugged, feeling an answer was still due, regardless. “I don't know who my parents were or are. Until yesterday I was the junior apprentice to Master Colm the Carpenter on the road out of town.”

His complete lack of connection to the nobility shocked the other boys.

“You mean you’re a peasant?” Aidan said, but the third boy interceded before Liam could answer in the affirmative.

“No, I don’t think he is, or ever was.” He stepped forward and shook Liam’s hand.

“If Lord Douglas vouches for his nobility, it’s as good as if King Robert did so. At least for my family.” the unnamed third boy said in a thick Welsh accent. “I don’t rightly know if nobles can elevate anyone to even the basest level of nobility without the King’s say so. Therefore, Lord James either knows something we don't know about Liam’s parentage or Liam is not telling the full truth.”

“Llywelyn ap Gruffydd.” He introduced himself. “I’m the true Prince of Wales.”

Aidan made a wheezing fart sound with his mouth. “Before he gets all high and mighty, I’d like to let you know that he still picks his nose when he thinks no one is watching and that….”

He dodged as a hastily snatched boot sailed over his head. Andrew and Liam struggled not to laugh at Aidan’s antics.

Any awkwardness now thoroughly dissolved by Aidan’s timely attempts at comedy, the other boys settled Liam into his new accommodations and the rules of noble medieval life.

As they did so, Andrew asked. “So, did Sir Keith give you the ‘intent’ speech?”

Liam nodded, and the other boys chuckled, as if knowing something that Liam did not.

“How long do you think it will take him to work it out?” Aidan asked Llywelyn.

“I’d say about a month if he’s lucky. More if he’s not.”

Andrew scoffed at that. “No chance. It’ll be six months, like both of you.”

“Oh! Six months, is it?” Aidan asked. “Do you think it will take him longer because he’s older? It seems to be the opposite, to my mind.” He said wryly, setting up what was to come. “I mean, it only took you an entire year to discover the solution to Sir Keith's riddle.”

“Ach, that’s a lot of tosh, and both of you know it. I was six when I came here. You were both ten.” Andrew replied angrily.

Aidan smiled in the small way a cat does when its finds prey is within reach.

"Yes. Exactly."

To Liam’s worried gaze, it appeared they were about to come to blows. “I already worked out the answer to Sir Keith's Intent riddle.” he blurted.

Silence fell over the room as the other boys looked at Liam in astonishment. “You….”

“What a load of rot.” Andrew said. “If you know, say it!”

“The duty of a page is to learn to channel their intent.” Liam said.

“Well, that’s a variation of it I haven’t heard before!” Aidan said, “But you’re not wrong.”

"That's the truth," Andrew agreed glumly, his face a mixture of disbelief and disappointment. “Usually, Sir Keith sets us several nasty tasks when we begin our service, just to see if we can overcome them. Aidan here was mucking out the pigsty for nearly six months before he understood.”

“He stank like the pigs for weeks! And they gave me the honour of mucking out his Lordships privy each week!” Llywelyn said glumly. “You’re lucky to have worked it out already! Andrew had the worst of it. Back then, the Lady was not at the keep, and from how Andrew tells it, Sir Keith was far more inventive with finding chores.”

While the other two boys looked impressed at Liam's rapid understanding of Sir Keith's test, Andrew looked like he was about to cry from frustration.

“The only reason I discovered the answer was because I... well, I saved the Lord in the woods, and the way I did allowed me to make sense of what Sir Keith was trying to explain.” Liam said quickly. He really didn't want to upset the other boys with talk of killing.

Aidan and Llywelyn both gasped at his confession. “You were there? Were you with Lord James and the Lady in the wood?” Llywelyn asked.

Liam nodded.

After a while of competing speculative questions, Liam started from the beginning.

He explained the circumstances by which Lord James had raised him from the peasantry to the lowest rank of nobility. He spoke of the events in the forest briefly, not wanting to remember them too closely.

Instead, he spoke of how Lord James and his men had fought bravely.

The other boys closely scrutinised Liam for any hint he may be lying.

“That cannae be the whole of it!” Aidan said, sensing a tale unheard.

Liam blushed in embarrassment as he told them what had happened in the woods, how he’d saved both Lord James and his Lady. He left out much of the details, simply saying the man who died had deserved it and would have killed the Lady had Liam not intervened.

“Well, bugger me with a spear.” Andrew said. His coarse language made Llywelyn gasp and glare at him. The standoff between the prude and the innocent causing Aidan to stifle a laugh.

“Och, aye. I daresay that’s happened before.” He said, grinning as Andrew grabbed a pillow to hurl at his face, now forgetting Llywelyn.

After a brief scuffle that devolved into laughter as Aidan lost, Andrew remembered how Liam gained acceptance into the Household. "So, you saved the Lord and his Lady in combat?" he asked.

“I suppose saving the Lord's life warrants some reward, but I’m shocked that he has raised someone with no notable parentage or wealth.” Andrew said to Llywelyn, ignoring the sputtering Aidan as he tried to bury him into the mattress using only a pillow. “We’ll just have to wait and see…”

He thought for a moment. “What does your Statistics vision say after your name?”

Liam frowned. “What's a statistics vision?” He asked.

Aidan rolled his eyes. “They’re only the visions God sends us to see who we truly are! It's nothing at all important!” he said, voice dripping sarcasm.

“Of course, Aidan, but then, we can read it.” Llywelyn said, understanding. “It’s the red tablet with gold writing that appears in your vision. Don't you worry. I'm sure you’ll be receiving lessons soon enough in reading the Latin.”

Liam shook his head. “I don’t know how to read at all.” He said. “All I see are a bunch of jumbled symbols.”

“Lord above have mercy on you Liam.” Aidan quipped. “He can’t even read! And he looks to be about 15!”

Liam’s height had always been something people commented on. At only thirteen years old, he was nearly as tall as some townsmen, but he was still a scrawny youth. It had been why Colm insisted on him cutting the firewood each day. Somehow, he merely grew taller, rather than wider.

Llywelyn sighed. “I don’t suppose you have any other skills that can be of use?” He asked.

“If you could read, you could check the statistics box in your vision." Aidan said unhelpfully. "That would tell you about any hidden talents right away!”

Liam shook his head. “I know how to saw, cut wood and sew.” He said. “Do we need any of those skills?”

Aidan laughed. “He’s all yours, Llywelyn. Give him some of your book learning!”

Llywelyn frowned, but reluctantly agreed. “I suppose I need to teach you how to read. Once you’ve mastered reading in the English, we’ll move onto Latin, and then French and Gaelic.”

Andrew frowned. “Ye ol'man ken ye tae speak Scotties?” He demanded, his accent growing thicker than usual. He puffed his chest out a bit as he did.

Liam merely nodded, deciphering what he meant. “I learnt a bit. Enough to listen to my… The Master Carpenter haggling with Highland folk whenever they come this far south.”

Andrew grinned. “Aye laddie, it’ll be grand tae talk wi’ye about these rascals in a godly tongue!”

Aidan snorted at that one. “You can barely speak Gaelic yourself.” He pointed out. “All you really do is thicken up your accent as you speak the English or French.”

Andrew growled at that and shook his fist at Aidan. “You lowlanders never had the decency to learn to speak a proper language.” He said through grit teeth. Then, as if forgetting he was angry, he turned back to Liam. “Never mind him. He’s just jealous that we highland folk are better warriors, lovers and poets.”

Llywelyn snorted this time. “Maybe in Scotland, but in all the world you’d never find a better fighting man, lover of women or bard than in the Welsh hills.”

Aidan chimed in, too. “And it’s not like Andrew would know what to do with a woman, let alone a warrior, should one present himself!”

The Highlander instantly swarmed him again, and the two fell to some mock wrestling, Andrew rapidly gaining the upper hand. To cries of “Mercy!” and “Yield!” They stood once more, and Andrew flexed his arms. His sleeves and his companions remained unawed by his efforts.

Llywelyn rolled his eyes and noticed that Liam had seen. He grinned as the two boys continued their argument, turning to sit on the bed as Andrew and Aidan left, still boasting to each-other.

Liam looked around, and Llywelyn pointed to the bed in the far corner of the room.

“Squire Iain will be glad of your presence here too. That was his cot. It’s yours now.” Liam nodded gratefully and sat upon the wooden slats covered with bundled straw. He knew the straw would itch something fierce, but he would wrap it in a blanket when he found one suitable for the task.

“The seneschal has finally moved the Squire into one of the guest chambers. It's a good thing too, for Iain has long outgrown these small beds. It’s not a problem for me yet, but you may feel cramped. I suggest lying with one leg out of the bed if you can’t stand curling up a bit. That's what Iain did.”

Llywelyn got to his feet and beckoned Liam to follow him. “It's coming up to supper.”

“Not just supper!" Andrew said, as he and Aidan re-entered the room, his voice brimming with excitement. "The Lord is entertaining Father Doreen at table for the Eve of Pentecost Feast! It's going to be amazing! We'll be able to overhear all the best news and rumours! And Lord James is sure to demand answers from that priest about the Horns, and Visions, and Statistics!.”

Nearly out of breath, he paused, gulping in more air. "And we get to find out first!" With excitement, Andrew turned and almost ran into Aidan again.

As Liam and Llywelyn joined with Aidan, Andrew ran ahead. Aidan whispered. “Don't mind Andrew, he gets like that. He's an innocent soul. Far too well meaning, and his heart hasn't been broken yet. Llywelyn is a bit of a prude.”

"Hey!" Llywelyn said indignantly.

"Well, it's true!" Aidan said. "But anyway, welcome to our little family. I'm not sure how you'll fit in, but you will."

Liam chuckled. "I just hope these visions truly are a gift from God! It seems so exciting, being able to grow our skills and see the results! We can even compete with each-other once I learn to read!”

Aidan grinned. "Not if we stop you from learning some of the important words!"

It was not long before they reached the dining hall, Liam still laughing at Aidan's words.

The feast was a whirlwind of activity. Everyone dressed in their finest clothes, and Liam's eyes widened as he took in the opulent setting. The best part of all, the tables were full to bursting with many delicacies, breads and fine meats!

This was nothing like the stew and mushy peas he was used to seeing! He couldn’t wait until after the dinner was over so he could dive into the leftovers with the other Pages.

Liam, awed by the wealth on display in the hall, looked about.

Fine white cloth lay draped over all three heavy wooden tables. Several tapestries hung from the daubed walls. The ceiling whitewashed to improve the lighting, supported a large iron chandelier and candles hung from sconces and in oil lanterns upon the table. The room was so bright, Liam could see intricate designs painted on the walls. Scenes of hunts and strange birds, all in bright colours.

Sat around the lower two tables were the town's traders, craftsmen and notable worthies of the town. They ate in their assigned place according to the rigid social hierarchy of the common folk. At the head table, the Lord surveyed all from his high-backed chair. Lady Tatania was to his left, Father Doreen to his right, and Sir Keith and Squire Iain at each end.

Liam felt a tug on his sleeve, as Aidan pulled him towards the high table through the revellers.

He guided Liam to his station at one end of the Lords table. There Liam served the wine, and waited upon the pleasure of the Lord, Lady and Squire Iain. Aidan would be at the other side, serving Father Doreen, Sir Keith and the Lord.

The townsmen were already upon their benches at the lower table, and the boys received stern looks from both the Lord and Seneschal for their tardiness. Lady Tatania merely smiled patiently at the boys.

Despite their late arrival, the dinner service went well. They served a whole hog to the Lord and his guests. Liam's mouth involuntarily watering as he stared hungrily.

And the smell!

He could barely contain himself!

Lord Douglas cut the honey glazed meat with his dirk, and presented the first cut to his Lady wife, the next to himself and the third to the Priest.

The watching crowd of townsmen nodded and smiled in appreciation of the consideration shown by their Lord to his guest.

After the dinner was complete, the drinking and entertainments began. A Harpist came forth and strummed gentle notes as the murmur of conversation rose in the hall. A juggler plied his trade at the lower table near where a few games of dice were being played.

Liam turned his attention to the musician. He had never seen a harp before. The instrument held by the musician was not large, being easy to handle from the hip. The man sang at first in French, then changed to Latin. Liam couldn't understand the language but had heard similar sounding words enough times in the Church during sermons. He'd never thought a human voice could sound so good.

The Priest was leaning back in his chair, his enormous stomach sticking out grossly to aid his digestion. The clergyman spoke up loud enough for Liam to overhear. "Ah, My Lady Tatania! Surely you have heard this before? It is as beautiful a song as you are a woman!" He leered at her, sipping greedily from his wine.

Liam saw his Lord's hand clench into a fist, but Douglas kept silent.

Lady Tatania, however, did not seem to perceive the lecherous nature of his comment, simply saying. "Oh yes, Father Doreen. My husband and I have heard many performances of Phillipe De Vitry's works. They are so much better when heard without commentary, don't you think?"

Chastened by the woman, the Priest slumped once more in his chair, and stared in boredom at the tapestries.

As the song came to its end, the Lord of Douglas stood. "Good people of Douglas!" he said.

The noise in the hall had quelled quickly by his vocal presence.

"It has been a year since the last visitation of the Spirit of God to Earth. But now we have heard the sounding of the Horns. We do not know how hard our times will become, nor if this is the last celebration we shall all enjoy together. But do not allow your spirits to sink into despair! For God has granted us all his Spirit through the Tribulation System!"

The priest seemed surprised at the description of the system as something sent by God. He stood up to protest, but the Lord had already continued his speech. Unwilling to confront the Lord once more, the priest sat unsteady with drink. Reaching out, he drunkenly knocked his goblet over himself.

The red wine spattered over his legs to pool on the floor. A titter of amusement stirred in the crowd, and the priest sat red faced, gesturing for Aidan to refill his cup.

Lord James looked over at the commotion but continued on as if nothing happened. The priests face grew redder still. He hid his shame by draining his glass, then demanded another refill.

"Many of you worry about what this means, and I assure you, powers both temporal and spiritual are working to discover how best we can secure ourselves from a terrible fate." The Lord said. "In the meantime, it is necessary for us all to share what we learn. Until further notice, I am granting each man who finds a new way of interacting with the system, the sum of ten shillings!"

Gasps of surprise filled the hall. Ten shillings was no small amount, even to the wealthier merchants in the hall. A cheer arose.

The Lord Douglas raised his hands to demand quiet. "I have also decided that because of a service to Lady Tatania and I, we are taking one who was once amongst you into my Household as a Page. I know beyond any doubt that he is born of a Noble family. As such, it entitles him to a position within my court!"

This time, the priest spoke up. "He believes a peasant can be of Noble blood! HA! You can't take a sheep and turn it into a warhorse!" He mocked drunkenly.

Turning to face the nobles, he tried to bring Lady Tatania and Sir Keith to join his drunken mockery of the townsfolk, but they studiously ignored him.

Lord Douglas similarly ignored the obese Priest, gesturing to Liam. "Step forward Liam!" he said.

He turned back to the crowd of expectant faces. "Liam of Douglas will now be accorded all the rights, privileges and courtesies granted to any Page in my court! He has sworn to my house, and in my personal service. More, he is a Lord in his own right. While in my care, any disrespect done to him is done to me!" He paused, ensuring everyone was listening. "Before you speculate, know this. Liam's parentage is a secret known only to the King, I and my Lady wife. A few other trusted Lords of the Realm may also know, but that is knowledge I do not have."

The Priest once more spoke softly, trying to get Tatania's attention. "Oh, so he is a secret Lord too, is he?" he mocked. "I suppose anyone can be a Lord then. Why, if my brother were a year younger, I too would be a Lord. A Lord and a Priest!" He giggled. "Lord-Priest Doreen of Douglas!"

The last he said too quietly for many to hear.

Yet Sir Keith had.

"I would close your mouth before you lose your tongue sir." he said gently, gaining the priest's full attention. "There are few things for which I would slay a man of the cloth, but that comes dangerously close."

Father Doreen recoiled drunkenly. "What?" he said in a belligerent tone. "There is no harm done, good knight," he slurred. "I was just making jest."

Sir Keith ignored the fat man once more, turning back to watch his Lord take the fealty of a Page to his House.

The interplay between Priest and soldier had gone unnoticed by the Lord, however, and he continued the ceremonial oath of Fealty.

"Liam of Douglas, a Lord of Scotland calls you to service."

"Kneel" He commanded. And Liam knelt.

Throughout the lower tables, men stood to gain a better vantage of the scene. Liam spotted Colm. The man was beaming with pride and whispering at all around him while pointing at Liam.

The lord put his hands together as if in prayer and then held them with fingers extended, pointing at Liam's heart.

"Place your hands like so, but facing me." The Lord said.

Looking up, Liam could see the Lords usually warm face was stern, his joviality disappeared into the mien of duty.

Liam placed his hands together and pointed them at his Lord's chest. The Lord's hands enveloped them.

"Do you, Liam of Douglas, accept that I am your Lord, in all temporal matters, until you reach your majority?" He asked.

"Yes Lord, I accept!" Liam said.

"Then I accept and welcome you as my Page. May you never prove unfaithful to your oaths or to Scotland!"

The Lord let go of Liam's hands. "You may stand. It is time to take the oath!" he said.

Liam looked about, confused. He spotted Andrew gesturing frantically that he should turn around.

As Liam did, Squire Iain moved past him to stand between the Lord and Liam. The Squire held a heavy leather-bound tome up carefully with two hands.

Now Liam could see it more clearly, his eyes opened wide in awe. Its cover was not only heavy but encrusted with cabochon'd jewels of significant size. They were all red rubies and formed the shape of a cross.

"We shall swear our oaths on my family's Holy Bible." Lord James announced. Murmurs of awe came from the townsfolk as they saw vast wealth set into the cover of the tome.

Lord James grasped Liam's hand and placed it upon the bejewelled cross. Liam had never seen a book before. For him, touching the bible was like touching a piece of God. This was a sacred moment.

"Repeat after me." The Lord commanded. "I Liam..." The Lord leant forward and whispered the name "... Lamberton..." into Liam's ear. Saying, "... and tell no one!" as he resumed his full height. Liam whispered the name - His sire-name - as instructed and continued, "... swear upon this Holy Bible that I shall be loyal and true to my Lord, James Douglas of Douglas. So, I swear."

As Liam finished the oath, a glow of holy light rose from the bible, clear for all to see. A red box opened before Liam, but as again, his inability to read the text made him dismiss it instantly.

The townsfolk let out a cheer of affirmation as the oath settled upon the Lord and his newest oath man.

The glow surprised Liam so much that he almost snatched his hand away. But he kept it upon the book until the glow faded.

The Priest, however, seemed dissatisfied. He slammed his silvered cup down upon the table, wine slopping over the rim onto his vestments. "Oh! So, the Carpenter's brat is now a noble?" he slurred. Clearly, the wine was getting to him. "No bible has never glowed." He complained. "Not once in the church's history, and now it does for some peasant!"

The townsfolk murmured amongst themselves, clearly taken aback by the Priest’s impiety. Clearly, this was a miracle and while surprising, was not to something to cast mock at!

Lord Douglas ignored the drunken priest and placed his own hand on the Bible to give his own oath.

"I, Lord James Douglas of Douglas, swear upon this Holy Bible that I shall care for, train, and educate Liam..." His voice dropped to a whisper for a moment inaudible to the hall, then resumed, "... until he reaches his majority or receives his spurs of Knighthood. I shall not unduly impede or prevent him from achieving these in any manner. So I swear."

The same golden glow emanated from the Bible, and Lord James turned back to the hall. "I present to you all, my newest Page. Liam of Douglas!"

Colm was the first to cheer, followed by Aidan, Llywelyn, Andrew, and the rest of the hall. Lady Tatania and Sir Keith raised their cups, acknowledging him, and he bowed in to return the salute. As the cheers died down, Iain - having replaced the bible in the chapel - guided Liam to his seat at the table.

"Don't get too comfortable here. It is custom that any new man in service to the lord eats at his table. In the future, you will continue to serve as befits your station as Page." The Squire said. "Oh, also: Congratulations!"

Liam mumbled his thanks but could barely think because of his hunger. Before him was an entire flank of the glazed hog, and three fresh sweet buns that smelled great.

Liam was about to graze the amazing feast before him, but the Priest continued his tirade.

"I shall not share my food with some lowborn commoner!" He whined. "Lord Douglas, the Holy Mother Church is the only power capable of granting such an extreme indulgence, and as its representative, I refuse to allow it!" The volume at which he delivered the ultimatum only made the petulance in the man's voice more disgraceful.

His voice, however, was nothing compared to the ferocious shout of Lord James' reaction.

Thoroughly sick with the sotted clergyman's behaviour, the Lord turned on him. "You shall hold your damned tongue, Priest!" he roared, and the hall fell immediately silent. "If you dispute my word once more, I shall teach you why the English call me 'Black' Douglas. The best you can expect is to be stripped of your stole and thrown into the brook. Perhaps there you can waste away your time bubbling to other scaled creatures!"

His voice calmed. "The Church has great powers, but to contradict my word in this hall? It shall not stand. And before you whine more, I already know the King shall support me in this! I have sent word of Liam's entry into my household to King Robert himself. Unless he has died, he still rules in Scotland. So, you may take whatever indulgences with ye when you complain to that snake of a Bishop!" He stopped as Lady Tatania laid a worried hand on his arm.

Iain turned to Liam, scrutinizing him carefully. He seemed to confirm something when Liam gazed back unflinchingly. Placing his hand on Liam’s shoulder, the Squire seemed to accept him, and his smile became warm.

"Welcome to the nobility, Liam of Douglas!"

As the hall once more resumed its conversation, Liam felt the fiery gaze of the Priest upon him.

Looking out at the faces in at the lower table, many of the more pious guests were muttering and glaring at him with anger and jealousy in their eyes.

Only the nobles and Colm seemed glad.

In a strange way, Liam had never felt less welcome in his life.