Over the course of the next few days, they had a lot of work to do. Rodrigo and Oliver, who thought they would miss television, computers and video games the most in Karinthia, realised just how wrong they were.

'If I could return to our world, even it was just for a few hours, the first thing I'd bring back would be a washing machine,' Oliver complained as he squeezed out the twentieth tunic.

'I don't know where you'd plug it in,' Rodrigo observed.

'You're right. I'm dying of boredom with this work. With the number of people here in the fortress, is there nobody who has the power to make clothes wash themselves? Maybe you can. Why don't you give it a try?'

Rodrigo stood up straight, extended his arms and began to whisper.

'Abracadabra, hocus pocus, please wash these clothes so we can focus.'

'You're not taking it seriously,' Oliver reprimanded. 'You'll never discover your power like that.'

'Well, there's just a bit more to go,' said Vega, returning with an empty basket. 'I've just hung up the last cloak. All that's left are the tunics.'

'Hey, I just saw Adara,' Noa said as she reappeared with another basket. 'She said that when you finish you should look for her in Fountain Courtyard. She wants to do a rehearsal of your squire naming ceremony.'

After three days in the fortress, Rodrigo already knew there were various courtyards, each of which was reserved for different activities. Fountain Courtyard was normally used by the knights to practise sword fighting. The first time he had watched them, he had been very impressed as it seemed as though they were locked in real combat. Afterwards, he discovered that they had been using blunt swords and leather breastplates so they didn't suffer any serious injuries.

'This is the last tunic,' Darion said as he hung the item of clothing on the enormous clothes line located at the foot of the stronghold's walls. 'We can go and look for Adara now.'

'I'll wait for you in the reading room,' said Noa.

'Why don't you come with us?' Aisha suggested. 'I don't think Adara would mind if you did.'

'Do you think so?' Noa stammered. 'I would love to.'

'Of course she won't mind!' Aisha cried. 'Come on.'

Noa joined the group and they all ran through the vaulted passages linking the different parts of the fortress. When they reached Fountain Courtyard, they saw that Adara wasn't the only person practising their combat skills. There were six pairs of opponents who were locking swords with surprising speed. In addition to the leather breastplate they were all wearing, they also bore metal chainmail which covered their heads such that Rodrigo couldn't tell which person was Adara until she broke off from fighting and removed her protective gear.

'I think that's enough for today,' she said, lowering her weapon. 'I'm going to do a run-through of the squires naming ceremony with these kids.'

'Yeah, I've had enough for today too,' said her opponent who turned out to be Donegan. 'I have to take my breastplate to Toravik and have him fix a few links.'

Adara removed her leather breast plate and approached the children.

'You'll need to accompany me to the armoury first,' she said. 'I need to put all this away.'

'Can I come too?' Noa asked overcome by shyness as always.

'Of course, sweetie,' Adara consented. 'Come along.'

They all followed her enthusiastically. None of them had been in the armoury before although they had heard about it: a room with dozens of swords, shining armour, lances, crossbows, bows... Surely when they were squires they would get a chance to visit it daily for their sword and archery practise, but up until then, they hadn't had that chance and they were excited to see it.

'You may enter,' Adara said, opening the door, 'but don't touch anything.'

Just as they'd heard, the room was filled with weapons and armour. It was almost as large as the library.

'I can't wait to learn how to use a sword,' Darion said. 'Then I won't ever have to hide from the varblins again.'

'Good judgement is the most powerful weapon of all, Darion,' Adara told him. 'You must know when it is best to hide and when it is best to fight.'

'I have no desire to learn to fight with weapons,' said Noa. 'All I wish is that we won't need them one day.'

'That's what we all want, darling,' Adara said placing an arm around Noa. 'I hope that one day we won't have to hide in this fortress; that instead, we'll be able to wander Karinthia without the need for a sword hanging on your belt.'

When Adara finished placing her things inside an engraved wooden chest, she indicated for them to leave. They then retraced their steps, passing through Fountain Courtyard once more. From there, they continued on to Arms Courtyard, bordered by columns, before they stopped in front of a large, arched door that was surrounded by finely decorated stone arches.

'Welcome to King Garad's throne room,' Adara said solemnly as she pushed the large door open.

For a moment, Rodrigo thought they were going to find a king waiting for them there with a large golden crown on his head and a velvet cloak but he soon remembered that King Garad had died centuries ago and that, since then, no other king had taken his place. Despite knowing this, the sight of the empty throne left him with a strange feeling. It was like seeing a river without water, or a tree without leaves. Not even the beautiful decoration of the throne, which was covered in gold and which had two figures in the shape of dragons as arm rests, managed to eclipse that empty feeling.

Adara guided them towards the centre of the room, all of them continuing to cast their gazes around them. Each side of the room had a row of impressive standing in a line and behind them was a series of banners hanging from the wall, interspersed with some oil lamps.

'On the day of your squire naming ceremony, all of the knights at the fortress will be here in the space behind those columns,' Adara indicated. 'When I make the signal, you will enter one by one to stand in front of the throne, from left to right. Then Balkar will approach you and... DON'T MOVE!'

The unexpected shout from Adara frightened them all, but especially Oliver, who had been surprised just as he was about to sit on the King's throne.

'Nobody has sat on that throne since King Garad disappeared. Only an heir of the king can do so without dying in the attempt. Do you think you're his heir?' Adara scrutinised the boy, a severe expression turning her face to stone. 'Don't be so foolhardy next time!'

For a few minutes, nobody dared opened their mouth. Rodrigo had never seen Adara so angry. Without taking her eyes off Oliver, she ordered them out into the courtyard once more so she could go over their entry into the room and their positioning in a row. They had to repeat it several times before she was finally satisfied.

'Alright,' she said. 'Now, let's move on to the oath. When Balkar moves to stand where I am now, one by one you will approach him and kneel on your left knee. Balkar will ask you, "Do you promise to be humble, to serve others and to protect the vulnerable?" Then you must answer, "Yes, I promise," and then he'll say, "So arise and kneel no more unless it is to aid a fallen comrade. With this insignia I name you squire of the Knights of King Garad, and I hope you honour this order with your behaviour and loyalty." Is that clear? So let's start. From left to right.'

One by one, they approached to practise the oath before Adara. It wasn't very difficult in truth. All they had to do was bend the knee, say "Yes, I promise," and stand up when she had finished speaking. The most difficult part was remaining quiet while the others finished.

'Your naming will be next Wednesday at twelve noon,' said Adara as she opened the large door to let them out. 'All the knights will be inside the room ten minutes beforehand but you must enter on time. I shouldn't have to say that I expect you to be clean and punctual.'

'Wow! Did you see how mad she got?' Oliver complained as soon as Adara had disappeared from view. 'Do you really think I would have died if I'd sat on the throne? I think it's a lie. She said it to scare me.'

'I wouldn't attempt it, just in case,' Darion told him. 'If King Garad managed to make the whole fortress invisible, I don't think it would be too difficult to cast a spell on that throne.'

'But nobody has two powers, right?' Oliver insisted. 'I mean, if his power was hiding things, then he wouldn't have the power to change his throne into a deadly trap.'

'Maybe he couldn't,' said Darion, 'but kings have one advantage: everyone else obeys their orders. He might have asked someone else to enchant his throne, someone who had that power.'

Oliver wasn't convinced and he continued to insist that it was all a lie to frighten children until they met Corentin and decided that he could resolve their questions.

'Hello, Corentin,' he said. 'Look, I've got a question. Do you know anyone who's ever sat on King Garad's throne?'

'Fortunately, no. If I had, I would be grieving their loss,' Corentin replied.

'So, it's true that only–' Oliver started.

'Only King Garad or someone who has his blood running through their veins can sit on that throne without dying trying,' Corentin finished. 'Which is the same as saying that nobody can do it because King Garad died before he had any heirs.'

'How do you know that's true?' Oliver insisted.

'It's what history books say. King Garad never had children.'

'No, I don't mean that about the throne. I mean, if someone sits on it they'll die.'

'That's also in history books. They tell how the throne was enchanted to be subject to only the king's blood and how others lost their lives trying to occupy his spot.'

For a while, Oliver was pale and more silent than usual. He was almost certainly thinking about the short distance there had been before his childish prank cost him his life. However, lunch (a hot beef and vegetable stew) returned the colour to his cheeks and he was soon the carefree and rebellious Oliver they all knew.

'We have to go to the blacksmith's this evening,' Rodrigo said to him. 'If I were you, I wouldn't touch anything without permission.'

It was almost five o'clock in the evening when the six of them crossed the grounds between the walls and the castle to reach the blacksmith's, which was located next to the stables. It looked rather like a regular house but all of its walls were made of stone. The first thing that caught Rodrigo's attention was the strong scent that breached his nostrils as soon as he crossed the threshold. It was a mixture of coal, iron and rust. It was a penetrating aroma but it wasn't unpleasant, the opposite in fact. He felt as though it reminded him of something but he couldn't remember exactly what. When his eyes accustomed to the gloom that hung over the place, he was able to distinguish a large man who was hitting a sword with an enormous hammer. He wore a leather apron but his arms, which showed some rather large muscles, were uncovered. He had a thick, red beard that seemed to be extremely long, although he had tucked it into his apron. As soon as he saw them, he stopped hitting the sword.

'You shouldn't be in here,' he said drily.

'But our timetable says we have to come to the blacksmith's,' Vega said.

'Ehh, ok. Well, in that case, come here.'

The man set down his hammer and, without looking at them, crossed the small room to another, larger room at the back. The six of them glanced at each other and followed him.

'I've always believed that a blacksmith's is no place for children,' said the smith, 'but the grand master insists you learn a bit of everything. Well, I guess I could do with a few extra pairs of hands. You need to clean those suits of armour. Use a cloth first and then a brush. When they're sparkling clean, grease them with oil. You need to be extremely careful. Don't forget even a centimetre.'

'Excuse me, sir,' said Oliver. 'Why are we going to clean them if we're then going to dirty them with oil?'

'Dirty them with oil!' the smith roared. 'Do you think they're ball gowns? The only thing armour is meant to do is protect the knight inside. The oil protects the metal, of course.'

'Do we need to clean them and oil them inside as well?' Oliver asked.

'Of course,' the man replied. 'What use is it keeping them clean outside if rust is eating them on the inside?'

'So how do we get inside them?' Oliver insisted.

The smith gazed at him as though he'd just thrown three suits of armour to the floor.

'You need to take them apart, not put them on!'

'And how do we take them apart?' he asked. 'Do they have screws?'

'Do your trousers have screws?' the smith yelled, starting to lose patience. 'Armour has straps, airhead. Any more questions?'

'Well, yes. Just one more, if I may,' Oliver said smoothly. Rodrigo tried to signal for him to stop asking questions. The smith look as though he was about to fly off the handle.

'What else would you like to know?' he growled.

'You've not yet told us your name,' said Oliver.

The smith stared at him for a few seconds without saying a word. He was obviously considering whether to make Oliver walk barefoot over the coals or crush his head with his huge hammer.

'My name's Toravik,' he replied finally. 'Now, get to work. You've already made me waste too much time.'

'What were you thinking,' Rodrigo said to Oliver as soon as Toravik had returned to his forge. 'He was about to strangle you.'

'No way!' Oliver replied. 'It's obvious he fancies a chat, you can see it from miles away. He's just scared to come out of his shell.'

'What shell?'

'His image as a strong, rude man,' Oliver said, as if he were explaining something as obvious as saying the sky is blue. 'I'm sure he's an angel underneath.'

Oliver's final words were cut off by an incredible din. The smith had returned to his work. The blows of the hammer resonated throughout the workshop and made the walls tremble.

'Yeah, sure. You can see it from miles away,' joked Darion. 'You can tell just from the gentle way he uses that hammer.'

After a few hoots of laughter, they set to work. The most difficult part was dismantling the suits of armour as they had an enormous amount of straps and buckles. They were almost certain they wouldn't be able to put them back together without the help of Toravik. Some stains were incredibly dry and they had to scrub hard to remove them but no one dared leave the job half-done. They were all concentrating hard on the jab at hand and the only noise that could be heard was the booming of Toravik's hammer. Soon, the blows ceased and were replaced by a voice as loud as thunder.

'Damn it! For crying out loud!'

They all started, petrified, apart from Oliver who had passed through the door linking the room to the forge without giving it a second thought.

'What's wrong, sir?' his voice carried through the door.

'An ember jumped up onto my beard and it caught fire. Damn it! The same thing happens every couple of days.'

'Why don't you shave it off?' asked Oliver. 'It would be much better for your work.'

'I can't,' Toravik replied drily. 'I made a promise. I won't shave my beard until I've defeated a thousand varblins.'

'Why did you make that promise?' Oliver questioned.

'Because a thousand varblins... What does it matter to you? It's none of your business! Get out of here or you're going to burn yourself too.'

'Ok, ok. I'm going. I only wanted to check what had happened.'

The hammer blows began to sound again and Oliver appeared in the frame of the door a few seconds later. He stopped and looked back.

'Can I ask you how many varblins you've destroyed?' he called to make his voice heard between the blows of the hammer. Instantly, the ringing stopped and there was a still silence for two seconds.

'Fifty-two,' the smith replied and turned back to his work again.

'I reckon our new friend, Toravik, will be taking his beard to the grave,' Oliver whispered when he'd reached his friends.

The six of them focussed once again on their tedious task of cleaning and brushing the suits of armour until they lost all track of time. It wasn't until much later that Toravik's hammer strikes ceased again and the voice of a woman could be heard. It was Adara.

'Toravik, are the children here?'

'Lady Adara! Good... Good afternoon.'

'Good evening, more like. Are they here or not?'

'Who?'

'The children! Did a group of children not come to help you?'

'Ah, yes. They're in the back there with the armour.'

'What's happened? Have you punished them and deprived them of their dinner?'

'Wh... What do you mean?'

'It's almost nine o'clock, Toravik. The fact you promised to fast every night until you've killed Baldur doesn't mean everyone else has to do the same.'

'Wow. It seems as though the smith has lots of unfinished business,' Darion whispered. A moment later, Adara entered and whisked them off to the dining hall.

'Did you see how red Toravik turned?' Vega asked them as they sat down.

'What?' Darion and Aisha replied in unison.

'When Adara entered the metal workshop,' Vega explained. 'Didn't you see Toravik's face?'

'How were we supposed to see it?' Oliver protested. 'I'd like to remind you that we can't all see through walls.'

'Oh, of course,' she realised. 'Well, he was as red as a tomato. You almost couldn't tell the difference between his beard and his face. I think he's in love with her.'

'Just as I was saying,' Oliver agreed. 'He's got a soft side underneath the tough exterior.'

During the days leading up to their squire naming ceremony, they were rather busy with the tasks assigned to them by Adara: feeding the animals, cleaning the bathrooms, helping in the kitchen and even milking the cows. With the last task, Rodrigo was clumsier than the rest of them as Oliver made the most of his power over animals and the others had already done it many times before.

On the morning of the ceremony, Adara excused them from chores. The only thing she asked them to do was to bathe and keep their clothes clean until noon. Rodrigo and Oliver had never enjoyed bathing as much as they did in the fortress. There were no showers or bathtubs, only something much better: the bathrooms consisted of a room with a large, heated swimming pool inside and some water jets that incessantly streamed hot water. Rodrigo, Oliver and Darion normally spent almost an hour a day in the bathroom, despite only spending five minutes on actually washing themselves. It was one of the few moments in the day when they separated from the girls as they had separate bathrooms.

When they finally began to feel their fingertips wrinkling, they quickly dried themselves and put on their recently cleaned clothes. Leaving the bathroom, they met up with Aisha and Vega, who were also wearing the meticulous items of clothing Lady Porwena had prepared for them. Noa wasn't with them as she was beginning her apprenticeship in the infirmary that day. As such, they were surprised to see her appear in the corridor.

'I've brought you a message from Adara,' said the girl who was still huffing and puffing from the effort. 'She says you each have to wear a sword for the ceremony. Here's the key to the armoury.'

'A sword!' Darion exclaimed, taking the key from Noa's outstretched hand, eyes ablaze with excitement.

'Come on, let's go,' Aisha said as Darion continued to gaze at the key, entranced. 'We don't have much time.'

'I'm heading back to the infirmary,' said Noa. 'Mirena's teaching me some incredible things. Good luck at your naming ceremony.'

With that, Noa disappeared in one direction and the rest of them headed in the opposite. Darion was so excited that he made them run almost the whole way in spite of the fact he was on the point of falling down the stairs. When they reached the armoury, he withdrew from his pocket the key Noa had given them and opened the door. They all moved directly towards the wall where the swords were kept and they began to observe them admiringly. Some of them had precious stones set in the handle, others had strange images engraved on the blade. The truth was they were all fascinating in their own way. It was surprising that Adara had allowed them to choose them alone.

'This one's mine,' Oliver said, admiring a beautiful, golden handle. 'It has a coat of arms with a horse and, at the end of the day, horses obey me.'

'Don't go thinking the sword will obey you too,' Aisha said. 'You'll have to learn how to use it.'

Just then, there was a dull thud and they all spun round. The door to the room had closed. Darion approached it to open it but he couldn't move it even a centimetre.

'You're not going to be able to open it,' said Vega. 'Kyle locked it with the key. Right now he's out there laughing with his friends.'

'How do... Oh, right, that must be true,' said Darion who had just remembered Vega's power. 'Damn them! Let us out!'

He began to pound the door with all his might and only stopped when Vega told him it was useless. It would only draw more laughter from Kyle and his gang.

'But we have to get out of here,' said Darion. 'Our naming ceremony starts in five minutes.'

It was clear Kyle wasn't about to finish with his joke in time for them to reach the ceremony. He was obviously aiming to stop them from being named squires. In order to escape the room, they were going to have to trick him. But how? They'd already tricked him once but now it seemed much more difficult. As if that weren't enough, Rodrigo couldn't talk to the others about it as the idiot would surely be listening. He would find out about all their plans as soon as they opened their mouths. Unless...

Unless everything they said was a lie.

The idea formed in his mind so quickly that Rodrigo was surprised at himself. But there was no time to lose. He approached the wall at the back of the room.

'Crikey! I think there's something here behind this cabinet. It looks like a passageway. Help me move it.'

Rodrigo trusted his friends would go along with him. To ensure they all realised what he was doing, he had put special emphasis on the word "crikey."

'You're right,' Aisha said. 'It looks like there's a hole in the wall. Let's move the cabinet.'

Between them all, they dragged the cabinet approximately one metre to the side. They weren't able to move it further because it was extremely heavy, but it was enough. The important thing was that that Kyle would hear the noise they were making.

'Good work, Rodrigo!' said Darion. 'It looks like a way out. There's a light at the end of the passage.'

Rodrigo smiled at his friend and gave him the thumbs up by way of approval.

'Come on, let's go,' he said. 'There's no time to lose. I'll go last.'

Next, he indicated to them to follow him in silence. They had to hide themselves behind a large archway next to the door. When they had finally managed, Darion carried out the final part of the plan without Rodrigo having to say anything to him: he made an illusion of a dark passageway with light at the end of it appear on the back wall. It seemed so real that he had to curb the temptation to stand up and head towards it.

The five of them waited for over a minute in absolute silence to make Kyle think they were no longer in the room. Just as Rodrigo had anticipated, the idiot soon opened the door to check if it was true, if they'd really escaped through a passageway.

'Damn it! It's true. Look,' he said as he opened the door. 'They found a secret passageway and escaped.'

The four others with him entered the room and they all walked over to the back wall, staring at the tunnel in confusion, failing to recall anyone having mentioned it before. Rodrigo and his friends anxiously waited for their moment to escape, which arrived when Kyle tried to enter the passageway and banged his nose against the wall.

'Now!' Rodrigo cried.

The five of them ran from their hiding place and crossed the room's threshold as quickly as possible. Luckily, Kyle's friends had stood there, paralysed in shock. Before they could react, Rodrigo had locked the door to the armoury.

'Open the door!' they shouted from inside.

'I'm sorry, but we're in a bit of a rush,' said Oliver as the five of them ran towards the throne room.

'That was a great idea, Rodrigo,' Vega said as they crossed Fountain Courtyard.

'You're right,' he laughed. 'I'm sure Kyle will be disappointed with his latest attempt at sticking his nose into other people's business.'