The Mountain King

Chapter 12

Before the sun had even risen the next morning, a knock sounded at Damien's door. Instantly awake, Damien slipped out of bed and pulled open the door. Instead of the captain, who Damien expected, a young guard stood, completely dressed despite the early hour, and looked about ready to jump out of his skin at the sight of him.

Damien blinked at him, waiting for him to say something. He realised absently that he was half naked. He had thrown on the loosest pair of pants he could find in the vast wardrobe, there were far too many ridiculously fine fabrics that were by no means practical or comfortable.

The guard opened and shut his mouth like a fish a few times, seeming to struggle to get any words out. His stunned expression was beginning to annoy Damien. Guessing he was there to 'collect' him for the soldier's training session, as the general had promised, Damien sighed and walked away, leaving the door open. He scooped up a shirt and pants from the pile of acceptable clothes he had tossed out of the wardrobe the night before and went into the bathroom to change. When he came out and grabbed his shoes the guard, who was obviously new, seemed to master his nerves.

"Captain Noran... sent me to bring you to the... morning training... session." He stammered.

"Mmhmm." Damien pulled his boots on. He grabbed his coat, which was the only item of his old clothes he had managed to keep from being collected by servants for cleaning. The rest had not been returned. He stepped past the guard, not waiting for him to follow.

It was chilly out on the field, Damien stood watching a group of guards running around the edges of the short grass. The path they followed was pressed dirt, the grass worn away from years of use. They rounded a corner and passed him, starting another lap. They were fit and healthy, even the stragglers of the group in decent form after the number of laps they had run to warm up. Damien had arrived just after they had started, and now they had completed nine laps around the large field.

"You should join them, next time." A voice said beside him.

Damien turned to find Captain Noran standing beside him, watching his men circle the field a final time. Surprised he was even acknowledging his existence, Damien looked back onto the field, watching the men turn the first corner.

"Too mundane for you?" Noran asked.

Damien exhaled, his breath clouding ever so slightly in the cool air. "I have had little opportunity for mundane exercises." A tiny grin crept onto his face.

The captain scoffed. "Prick." He muttered under his breath.

Damien chuckled softly. After a while the captain sighed and held something out for Damien. He turned and saw his sword in its sheath, leather belt and all, in the captain's hands. Damien remembered handing it over when they were first brought to the castle. He suddenly remembered the sight of Aleya – Solmahrya – tied up and surrounded by those animals...

Shaking his head at the memory, Damien took the sword, appreciating the familiar weight in his hands again, then strapped it to his hip. The men rounded the final corner and slowed as they approached where the captain and Damien stood.

Captain Noran ran his men through their usual routine, ignoring Damien, who stood on the side, watching. After running through some drills on sword work, they paired up and sparred with wooden swords. For a few minutes Damien continued watching, then he walked to a pair that was fighting to the back of the group from where he was standing. He made his way around to the pair, the captain's eyes on him the whole time, and stood nearby as one guard stepped forward with a stabbing attack. The other guard quickly shuffled backwards, trying to dodge the wooden blade but tripped on the uneven ground and landed on his back – his head just before Damien's boots. Damien looked down at the fallen guard, his hand on his sword. The familiar weight at his hip made him feel more at ease. He raised his eyebrows at the guard, who was still staring up at him. The guard rolled to his hands and knees and stood, brushing the dirt off his shirt. His eyes caught on the ground in front of Damien, to a clear X where his head had been a moment ago.