rubbing his sore spots and glaring at Pete. His glare turned into a smile at the Kingâs next words.
âNo, young McGee. When I say you are no longer accepted here, I mean as a trainee knight. Your involvement is finished. It is over.â
Pete didnât move. It couldnât be over that easily. It just couldnât. He hadnât quit. He hadnât and he wasnât going to. It just couldnât be over that easily. This was his one chance.
âMcGee. That was an order from your King. Leave the grounds now.â
Sir Naymeâs voice was like a dagger to his heart, but Pete continued to stare. He couldnât do anything. He couldnât yell or scream or cry. Unfortunately, Sir Mountable did some yelling for him.
âOhhh, Kingy man. Think youâre so tough. McGurk wants to be a knight knighty knighty knighty poo, why wontcha let him hey?â
The King simply looked sad. The other boys, Smithers in particular, laughed, rolling on the ground. Pete was more embarrassed than he thought possible. Sir Mountable had even got his name wrong! The knight was now walking towards the King, holding out his arms for a hug. Pete walked over and pushed him away and to the door, stopping only to pick up his jacket and pack and to look one last time at the knight-training he was leaving forever.
It was over.
Wow. Not good! How will Pete become a knight now? How will he amount to anything after such a crushing blow? How will, how will, how will anything ever be right again?
Hopefully thereâs good news and more change to come. If not, weâre in trouble and you may as well go and read a book about vampires. Iâve heard there are a couple of those around at the moment â¦
he walk back was slow, but that was, in a way, a good thing as it gave Pete time to think. He figured he had two choices. One was that he could give up the dream of being a knight and look for something else. Or he could get a job doing something boring. He could lay around the house, only going outside to feed Horsey Horse Horse, and blah blah blahdy blah. His thoughts on the matter stopped before he could get more depressed, as he had to help Sir Mountable up out of a ditch.
They arrived at Sir Mountableâs house with dusk quickly approaching. Pete left Horsey Horse Horse in the front yard with the goat and went to open the door.
âI can do it, boy,â Sir Mountable mumbled. âI can do it just fine.â
He pushed past Pete and opened the door, but before he walked in he turned around and stared directly into Peteâs eyes.
âWhy do you want to become a knight, boy?â
Pete stared at him, his voice angry.
âI told you already! Donât you even listen?â
The knight nodded, almost causing himself to overbalance. His voice, when he spoke, was amazingly strong and clear.
âI heard a well-rehearsed list, boy. I heard a list about someone else being great, and how you like your mummy, and about wanting to prove that a disability wonât stop you. I heard about wanting respect. I heard about wanting people to like you, about wanting to impress others, to need others to have a good opinion of you. I have neither heard nor seen one thing of why you want to become, or should become, a knight. Now go. We are done here.â
And in he walked.
It was the last straw for Pete. He had been worn down. He had been worn down to the point where all he wanted to do was let out all the frustrations that had built up.
So he did.
He roared.
He went inside the house, where Sir Mountable was already lying down on the couch. He went to the sink and filled a jug with water. He walked straight over to Sir Mountable and soaked him.
âI want to be a knight because I have greatness in me.â
He went and filled the jug again, Sir Mountable coughing and spluttering on the couch, sitting up now. Pete walked over and threw more water over him.
âI want to be a knight because it fills
âNo, young McGee. When I say you are no longer accepted here, I mean as a trainee knight. Your involvement is finished. It is over.â
Pete didnât move. It couldnât be over that easily. It just couldnât. He hadnât quit. He hadnât and he wasnât going to. It just couldnât be over that easily. This was his one chance.
âMcGee. That was an order from your King. Leave the grounds now.â
Sir Naymeâs voice was like a dagger to his heart, but Pete continued to stare. He couldnât do anything. He couldnât yell or scream or cry. Unfortunately, Sir Mountable did some yelling for him.
âOhhh, Kingy man. Think youâre so tough. McGurk wants to be a knight knighty knighty knighty poo, why wontcha let him hey?â
The King simply looked sad. The other boys, Smithers in particular, laughed, rolling on the ground. Pete was more embarrassed than he thought possible. Sir Mountable had even got his name wrong! The knight was now walking towards the King, holding out his arms for a hug. Pete walked over and pushed him away and to the door, stopping only to pick up his jacket and pack and to look one last time at the knight-training he was leaving forever.
It was over.
Wow. Not good! How will Pete become a knight now? How will he amount to anything after such a crushing blow? How will, how will, how will anything ever be right again?
Hopefully thereâs good news and more change to come. If not, weâre in trouble and you may as well go and read a book about vampires. Iâve heard there are a couple of those around at the moment â¦
he walk back was slow, but that was, in a way, a good thing as it gave Pete time to think. He figured he had two choices. One was that he could give up the dream of being a knight and look for something else. Or he could get a job doing something boring. He could lay around the house, only going outside to feed Horsey Horse Horse, and blah blah blahdy blah. His thoughts on the matter stopped before he could get more depressed, as he had to help Sir Mountable up out of a ditch.
They arrived at Sir Mountableâs house with dusk quickly approaching. Pete left Horsey Horse Horse in the front yard with the goat and went to open the door.
âI can do it, boy,â Sir Mountable mumbled. âI can do it just fine.â
He pushed past Pete and opened the door, but before he walked in he turned around and stared directly into Peteâs eyes.
âWhy do you want to become a knight, boy?â
Pete stared at him, his voice angry.
âI told you already! Donât you even listen?â
The knight nodded, almost causing himself to overbalance. His voice, when he spoke, was amazingly strong and clear.
âI heard a well-rehearsed list, boy. I heard a list about someone else being great, and how you like your mummy, and about wanting to prove that a disability wonât stop you. I heard about wanting respect. I heard about wanting people to like you, about wanting to impress others, to need others to have a good opinion of you. I have neither heard nor seen one thing of why you want to become, or should become, a knight. Now go. We are done here.â
And in he walked.
It was the last straw for Pete. He had been worn down. He had been worn down to the point where all he wanted to do was let out all the frustrations that had built up.
So he did.
He roared.
He went inside the house, where Sir Mountable was already lying down on the couch. He went to the sink and filled a jug with water. He walked straight over to Sir Mountable and soaked him.
âI want to be a knight because I have greatness in me.â
He went and filled the jug again, Sir Mountable coughing and spluttering on the couch, sitting up now. Pete walked over and threw more water over him.
âI want to be a knight because it fills
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