Page 48 of Onyx Cage: Volume II
The training grounds were crowded when I arrived, soldiers milling about performing unsynchronized warm-up activities ofvarious intensities. Lady Gwyn was already in a sparring ring, yanking a red-faced soldier to his feet.
She nodded in my direction before turning her attention to a new soldier who was taking the place of the first.
The corner of her mouth tilted up.
“Sure you don’t want a buddy in the ring this time, Cason?” she taunted, raising her sword. “I’ll let you cheat, just this once, for the sake of your pride.”
The men in the arena laughed, andCasongave a good-natured shake of his head.
“Ye’ll no’ be laughin’ when it’s yer turn, ye wee eejits,” he called, rolling his R’s and truncating his syllables sharply, an exaggerated version of the king’s accent.
“Did you catch a word of that?” Pavel murmured.
The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted me before I could answer, and I turned to see the Captain of the Guard approaching.
“Prince Finnian,” I greeted with a shallow bow.
“Lord Evander. Master Pavel,” he returned, giving a respectful nod of his head to us both.
“You’ve met,” I observed drily.
I wasn’t aware my soldiers had been doing much fraternizing, and why, if they were doing so with a prince of Lochlann, they hadn’t thought to mention it at all.
“I make it my business to know every armed soldier who walks through the gates,” the prince said with a small smirk, obviously registering my annoyance. It was jarring how insightful so many members of this family were, ferreting out the reactions I had spent a lifetime learning to hide.
That trait must have skipped my lemmikki.
“I can hardly fault you there,” I allowed.
He looked around, taking in the arena with a glance. “I’m told things are far more regimented in Socair.”
I followed his gaze to the soldiers who were still doing a random assortment of exercises in the courtyard, a few of them barely moving at all as they sipped from tin mugs with half-lidded eyes. Even Lady Gwyn had stepped away from the sparring ring to help herself to another breakfast pastry, like this was some casual event rather than a rigorous training session.
“That’s a fair assessment.” Storms thank my Socairan upbringing for letting me say that without a trace of derision. Mocking their soldiers would hardly contribute to our goal of mutual peace.
The prince’s amber eyes gleamed like he had heard it anyway, but he didn’t rear back in offense. Instead, his smirk widened into a full smile.
“It’s been my experience that any true battle comes with a certain amount of chaos.”
I nodded. “That’s been my experience as well. I suppose that’s why we prioritize inculcating our men with a sense of order ahead of time.”
“An admirable goal, but I might argue that it matters less than adaptability. That’s what won us the war, in the end.” He softened a bit on those words, as though he was preserving my feelings when he was the one who lost his parents to the cause.
The last thing I wanted to do was rub salt in his wounds, but since he seemed to be inviting discourse, I shook my head.
“In the absence of black powder and a man bold enough to use it, that kind of discipline can make or break a war,” I countered.
He let out a slow, thoughtful breath.
“Oli and I led the forces from Castle Alech here, when it was under attack. Do you know what I found?”
His parents, strung up on the outer wall, courtesy of my blood-thirsty father.
“I’m not talking about the carnage,” he corrected quickly. “But do you know how long this castle lasted under siege with the bulk of its military away and the walls themselves breached?”
I didn’t know. My father had only ever spoken of his victory.
“The point is, traditional methods are good and well when you’re in ideal circumstances. When you have the numbers in your favor, the weapons you need, the men you trust most. But what about when you have none of those things?”