Gabriel's Romance Chapter

It was midday when the battle ended. The desert sun beat down mercilessly on Andrew’s brow. He looked on the carnage that surrounded him. Many men from both armies lay dead. The birds that had been circling in the air now gorged themselves on the dead, and even on some of those who were wounded. These birds he shooed away, or killed, and then began helping the wounded into camp. This went on for the remainder of the day, as there were many wounded to tend to, Christian and Muslim alike.
That night he dined with Sir Edgar. The meal was eaten in silence, out of respect for the dead. Indeed, words were only used when it was necessary, for that day was as dark a day as any of those men had ever seen. Throughout the meal Andrew caught the other men staring at him, and then quickly looking away when they saw he had noticed; Sir Edgar included. He wanted to ask why they were staring at him, but decided it would be best to wait.
When they had finished, he could withhold his question no longer. He went and sat down next to Sir Edgar and asked him, “Sir, why do you and the men stare at me so.” Sir Edgar looked at him for a moment, and then finally said, “Andrew, when we rode to aid the King, you were surrounded by Saracens, yet you somehow managed to slay every one of them with little more than a few cuts and bruises to show for it. This is an amazing feat in and of itself, but do you know how many men you killed?” Andrew answered, “I’m not sure, about ten of them I think.” Sir Edgar laughed, “Ten? Bah! You slew nigh on twenty, boy!” “Twenty?” Andrew could hardly believe it. No wonder they seemed never to die! He had slain twenty men and had barely a mark to show for it, just a few cuts and bruises. “The King wishes to knight you,” declared Sir Edgar. Andrew’s heart leapt into his throat, “Knight me?” “Yes,” said Sir Edgar, “and we’d best be on our way. He asked that I bring you to see him once we had finished eating.”
A million thoughts flew through Andrew’s head on the way to the King’s tent. He thought of his home, his family and his friends. He thought of the years he had spent serving as Sir Edgar’s squire. He thought of the battle that had just taken place. He thought of Jean, the woman to whom he would dedicate his services as a knight. One thought that kept reoccurring, and indeed, eventually consumed all others, “I am about to become a knight!”
When they reached the tent, Sir Edgar stepped forward and held the tent flap for him. As Andrew stepped into the tent, he was met with a wave of incense from within. It was the sweetest thing he had smelled in a long time. The king stood there with several priests, three on either side. The King held a beautifully crafted sword in his hands. He beckoned Andrew forward saying, “Come forth boy, and kneel.” Andrew went forth and knelt, and waited for the King to charge him with the oath of knighthood.
“Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the truth always, even if it leads to your death. Safeguard the helpless and do no wrong. That is your oath.” The King touched Andrew on each shoulder with the flat of his blade, then struck him across the face and said, “And that is so you will remember it.” Then the King handed him the beautiful sword and said, “Arise, Sir Andrew!”