The golden sun was setting behind the men, bidding the world farewell and leaving humanity wondering if it’ll ever rise again on the morrow, and what would happen if it doesn’t.

 

William, Wat and Roland, wore smiles on their faces. Even if it was still three days since they last ate anything. Perhaps, victory is a food to the soul, and a secret feast of the bones.

 

The men remained largely unchanged, save that William was no longer wearing the armor and his nose was bent slightly to the left.

 

They were at a certain crossroad, where Roland was trading the prize feather with a criminal looking fence.

 

“Honestly, I thought you were fooling around,” Wat to William.

 

“Of course, I was,” said William, “A lance crashed directly into my face and I was totally unhurt by it.”

 

“Oh, but your nose is broken,” said Wat.

 

William scowled darkly, but said nothing. Roland returned to them with a fat smile on his face.

 

“Fifteen silver florins,” he announced with a cheer. “Five for William, five Wat, and five for me who’s traveling straight home.”

 

“It’s straight to the pub for me,” said Wat as he took his share. “I can see the eel pie, brie tarts, and pansy cakes with peppermint cream. Oh… can you smell it?”

 

William, however, wore a hardened expression on his face.

 

“Listen to me, we can do this,” he said.

 

“We can do this?” asked Roland, snorting. “Here’s the silver florins! We did it already.”

 

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” said William, “I mean we can do this. We can be champions! Give me your coins.”

 

Wat and Roland looked dumbstruck.

 

“Give me your coins,” said William.

 

The men opened their palms but didn’t try to hand over the coins. So William took it upon himself to scoop it from their palms while they stared at him like hypnotic sheep.

 

“Will you hear me, or will you leave?”

 

Roland dimmed an eye. “Our monies are in your hands, aren’t they?” he said.

 

William smiled. “That’s right,” he said and opened his palm. Fifteen silver coins sat in it. “One for you,” he handed a coin to Wat. “And one for you, Roland. There’s thirteen left. Thirteen coins for training and equipping. There’s going to be a tourney at Asderd in a month.

 

“When that time comes, we’d be splitting a bigger prize than what’s in our hands now. One month is the landscape, and we could be riding our way into riches and glory beyond our wildest dreams and thoughts.”

 

“I don’t want the riches and glories beyond my wildest dreams and thoughts,” said Roland, “I want to go home.”

 

“Yep,” said Wat, “I think Tansy cakes, squash fritters, Dilled veal balls with ginger and lime juice are better options than the riches and glories in my dreams. Give me my five, William.”

 

William frowned darkly and stared and the men before him. At first, they also stared back, but it was Roland who first looked away and then Wat followed suit.

 

“The guilt stare,” said Wat, looking away.

 

“You can’t even joust,” said Roland, sighing. “Your nose says so.”

 

William gulped. “The larger part of jousting is the courage to take a hit, and that I have. What’s left is technique, and one month suffices to learn that.”

 

“And, you’re not of noble birth or a knight, William, none of us are!” said Roland.

 

“And so we become nobles,” William said, raising his shoulders.

 

“How? Sir Hector never dubbed you a knight,” said Wat.

 

“We lie!” said William.

 

Roland and Wat gasped in horror.

 

“What? Tell me, Roland, how did the nobles become noble in the first place? They took it... with the sharp point of the sword,” said William, clenching his fist and raising it in the air. “I, William, will do it with the blunt end of a lance.”

 

“Can you even hear yourself?” asked Wat. “They used sharp swords and you’re talking about blunt lances.”

 

“That doesn’t matter,” said William, stubbornly. “A man can change his stars. I’m not spending the rest of my life as nothing.”

 

“Come with me,” said Roland, grabbing William’s hand. They went up the dusty road a bit and arrived at a hallow with a body hanging from it. “That is nothing. And nothing, is where your plans of glory will lead us to.”

 

“We’re peasants, sons of peasants,” said Wat, “it’s beyond us to swim against tides and seek glory. The stars are eternally beyond our reach of the likes of us, but a full stomach is one dream we can achieve.”

 

“Fine,” said William. “If you want your money, come take it from me and you can go wherever you want, but if you can’t, then we use it.”

 

Wat and Roland stole glances at each other.

 

A smile filled William’s face. “I knew it!” he said, excitedly. “You see? Money doesn’t matter.”

 

Roland and Wat yelled out war cries and charged at William. They pushed him off his feet in the dusty road and tried to pry each of his hands open.

 

Wat grabbed a hand and raised it to his mouth, and a second later, William let out a cry of pain.

 

The men disbanded at once, rising to their feet while Roland chuckled good-heartedly.

 

“Do you see how hungry I am?” said Wat, pointing at his open mouth.

 

“Damn your stomach, Wat!” William said, before turning to Roland. “Roland, please. With thirteen silver coins, three men can change their lots.”

 

Roland breathed out his mouth and curved a smile. “God love you, William.”

 

“I know,” said William, rushing to embrace Roland.

 

Roland quickly took hold of William's nose and fixed it.

 

"AAAAH!!!"

 

Wat and Roland laughed at the teary eyed William.