“Lance!”

The sound of footsteps amplified as someone came to wake him. The door was thrust open and it met the wall with a bang.

Lance woke with a fright, “What!?”

Lance’s confidence evaporated when he saw who was standing in the doorway,

“Father,” said Lance with a breaking voice, “to what do I owe this pleasure.”

Lance’s father rolled his eyes, “Just come with me.”

Elijah Blunt was a not a man to be kept waiting. Well if you wanted to die then you would get what you wanted. Lancewood jumped out of bed and pulled on garments suitable for walking around the village. Lance wandered down the stairs to where his father was sitting with a pack. Elijah Blunt tossed Lance the pack.

“What’s this for?” queried the youngster.

Elijah Blunt shook his head slowly and sighed, “Your presence has been ordered at the Castle.”

Lance went pale.

Elijah turned around so that his son would not see his tears. Lance leant on the wall and started breathing deeply; the fear was toxic.

“Why has the King summoned me?”

Elijah shuddered and wiped his tears away before turning around and looking at his only son in the eyes.

“Not just you,” Elijah opened the window to reveal the main street of the village. Sons being sent off by teary parents and what seemed like an entire army of teenage boys.

“A minotaur has invaded the land, capturing the Princess and the Queen. He is going to offer the boy who returns the Queen and Princess the title of Slayer of the Minotaur. All the boys are being sent off.”

Lance got up and nodded, picked up the pack and walked into the throng of boys. Lance looked to his left and right, their faces mirrored his own; fear and turmoil etched into every part of them.

It took the hoard a full day to reach the Castle.

Once they reached the gate, they were quickly ushered into the throne room. On the throne, there was a figure of pure anguish.

“Your majesty! The recruits!” said one of the guards.

The King got up and ran to the boys, “You all are my last hope.”

The King took in each face. For they would, on the morrow, battle a monster of epic proportions.

Lance raised his hand before the King could finish. The King nodded giving him permission to speak, “Why don’t you send an army?” The boys all nodded and murmured amongst themselves.

“I wish it were that simple,” the King said sadly, “A minotaur can see an army from miles. It cannot see a group of lads.”

The boys looked content with this answer.

“Lads!” shouted the King, “Rest well! Those who return will be given glory like none other!”

Lance didn’t share the newfound confidence that had infected the boys. This feeling continued through the night and he still had it when, after breakfast, the king equipped the Boys. Lance didn’t even hear a word of the King’s motivational speech.

It felt like a dream, walking out the gate, off on a quest like the Knights of the Grand Old. The minotaur’s camp was easy to find, it had after all burned an entire village and left a path of gory destruction. The Boys were joking and laughing for the whole hike to the village. The laughter stopped when they reached the main street of the village, well, the pile of ash that had a mere day ago been a village. The Boys walked through the town; bodies lay all around.

Tell us: Would you have run away from this deathly battle to save yourself?