The Melee
You have won your prize stoutly and well, sir 'prentice," the king said. "I should not have deemed it possible that one of your age could have smitten such a blow, and right glad should I be of a few hundred lads of your mettle to follow me against the French. What is your calling?"

"I am an armourer, my liege," Walter answered.

"And you are as good at mending armour as you are at marring it," the king said, "you will be a rare craftsman one of these days. 'Tis a rare pity so promising a swordsman should be lost to our army. Wouldst like to change your calling, boy, and take to that of arms?"

"It is my hope to do so, sir," Walter answered modestly, "and his grace the Prince of Wales has already promised me that I shall some day ride behind him to the wars."

"Ah! Edward," the king ejaculated, "how is this? Have you been already enlisting a troop for the wars?"

"No, sir," the young prince replied, "but one day, now some four years since, when I was riding with my Lord Talbot and others in the fields near the Tower I did see this lad lead his play-fellows to the assault of an earthen castle held by others, and he fought so well and gallantly that assuredly no knight could have done better, until he was at last stricken senseless, and when he recovered I told him that should he choose to be a man-at-arms I would enlist him in my following to the wars."