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You look at the things with open mouth and your father chuckles "Yes yes, from my old times...come boy, lets gather your things."
He pats your shoulder and helps you searching for a bag to gather everything you need.
Some minutes later you have the chainmail, aswell as cheese and bread ready for your journey.
As it gets dark outside you and your father sit together at the family table, neither of you is speaking much.
Looking at your fathers face you fear to see anger or an accusation in it...but he only smiles at you faintly.
You sleep through the night, sure your father will be good until you come back from the army.
As the sun rises you stand up, with a last hug of your father you walk down the road, your home getting smaller and smaller at the horizon as you fight back some tears. Finally...on the way to Montza.
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