The Chronicles Of The Council #1: The Sun's Tears

Chapter 22: Aebbé - Dedication

  "The speed of your success is limited only by your dedication and what you're willing to sacrifice." - Nathan W. Morris

I am not sure if Lord Caith was serious about me joining his men at arms practice, but the next morning at sunrise I find myself arriving at their field.

Lord Caith and all his men are dressed in white. Caith's golden curls are still wet, probably from his morning bath. His short-sleeved shirt shows his tanned muscles. He aims an arrow and shoots a perfect hit.

He does not look away from his target: "Good morning, lady Aebbé. I am glad you have come. I feared that you had thought I was joking."

He aims another arrow - another perfect hit.

"My lord, I did believe it a joke, but my curiosity won."

"We are currently practising archery, but we already did a lengthy run and next will be sword practice. Do you know how to shoot with a bow?"

"I have tried a few years ago," I lie, "but I was no good."

"Nonsense! Here, take my bow and try to shoot."

He offers his bow and quiver to me.

I hesitate.

"Your brothers cannot say anything without insulting my order."

His argument is sound. I take the weapons. I pretend as if I do not even remember how to hold the weapon.

"Do not try to fool me," he says irritated.

I smile, aim and pull the string. 

It is a good shot, but not perfect on purpose.

"I'm sure you can do better than that or were the rumours of you besting the elves in Inwir just outrageous lies?"

I blush: "They might have a ring of truth in them."

I am quite astonished that I have been the topic of elf gossip. Elves don't partake in gossip - only when they are utterly dumbfounded or bloody murder angry. I hope the former rather than the latter was the reason for me being discussed among the elves.

"Break!" 

The men and elves rush to the side, put their weapons down and drink from their waterskins.

Caith sits down in the middle of the field. I hesitate for a moment and then sit down on the grass opposite him. My plain green dress probably makes me look like shrubbery on the green grass. I stifle a giggle.

"How long have you been a soldier?"

He chuckles as if the question amuses him: "From my late childhood."

"Why did you choose to be a soldier? Did you have no other choice? I do not think I would like being a soldier. That would mean that I would have to purposefully kill people, and two -," I swallow my words. And two lives are already too much for me to bear.

Luckily Caith does not seem to notice my hesitance to complete my previous sentence as he starts answering my questions: "I had a choice. I could have become anything else, but it is as a soldier that I can make the most difference - and I am good at this. I have never been able to grow plants. That is my sister's talent. I cannot make weapons, and I really cannot look after animals. They just run away from me." 

He laughs warmly as if at a private thought that amuses him.

"Being a soldier is not only about killing. You must be prepared to work in a team towards an achievement. It is about the discipline to train every day. It is about studying the weaknesses of your enemy and knowing your own. It is about thinking of different scenarios that might result from a certain situation and deciding which one is the most likely to play out. It is about teaching your body to think for itself and react without using your mind, but still thinking about every move you make."