Age of War

Chapter 6

Rykall swaggered across the muddy yard. His huge sword was strapped to his back and its pommel was visible over his shoulder. It looked big enough to fell a tree. Rykall was big too – a tall, broad man with wide shoulders, and yet he moved with the practiced ease of an experienced warrior. His eyes constantly flicked this way and that, instinctively assessing possible threats. Albrihn was in no doubt about how dangerous he was, and yet he had instincts of his own. He saw the way Rykall slightly favoured his right leg, and judged there was an old war wound there. His gaze was a little unfocussed too, his eyes a touch glassy. He’d been drinking, carrying on from the meeting in the palace. Not enough to be drunk, not a man his size, but enough for him to be bolder than he should be. Enough to do something foolish. He stopped maybe ten strides from Albrihn and Morrow and stood grinning at them, his men on either side, by contrast wearing stoic expressions and standing with hands on the hilts of their swords. “Commander Albrihn,” Rykall said, “I didn’t expect to see you here…”

“Don’t rise to it,” Morrow said softly.

“It’s fine.” Albrihn took a step forward. “Where else would I be? This is my regiment’s barracks.”

“Your regiment, eh? That would be the Twelfth Regiment, yes?”

Albrihn narrowed his eyes and folded his arms. He wasn’t sure where this was going. “That’s right.”

“Because I thought the Twelfth’s commander was Hadrin.”

“It is.”

Rykall looked at his friends in mock confusion. They didn’t so much as crack a smile, just stayed staring straight at Albrihn and Morrow. “A regiment can’t have two Commanders, Albrihn. Where exactly do you fit into the hierarchy of this unit?”

“You’d need to ask the Empress. She’s the one who promoted me.”

“Of course.” Rykall’s smile was predatory. “Are you sure you wouldn’t be happier in her bed? That’s where you belong, clearly. She can call you commander, but all I see is a strutting peacock from her gardens. A princess’s fucktoy.” His expression changed abruptly, into one of barely-contained rage. The practice yard had fallen quiet and all eyes were fixed on the two men.

“Rayke…” Morrow said. She reached out a hand.

“She’s not a princess. She’s your Empress.”

“Indeed she is. And so we must obey her commands, no matter how ludicrous they are.”

“Is there a point to any of this, Rykall?” Albrihn asked.

“Just trying to figure out how you fit into all this business. You’re going to be in command of a substantial force. Are you sure you have what it takes?”

Albrihn’s face hardened. He didn’t think he had what it took, for what it was worth, but Rykall was beginning to annoy him now. And he was annoyed at himself for allowing him to nettle him like this too. He should just walk away. “I don’t question my orders,” he said, managing to keep his tone even.

“No, don’t bite the hand that feeds. Tell me, did you two decide on this course of action before or after you fucked? Was it like payment? You keep her entertained for a night, she just throws you command of an army? Or was it a joke you cooked up while you sat there nibbling on olives on the balcony?”

Albrihn could feel his muscles tense. He was leaning towards Rykall unconsciously, all his weight pushing forward, readying his body for a headlong charge. But he carried no weapon and he tamped down his fury. This wasn’t the time or the place. He could get himself killed. Morrow’s hand was on his chest too, holding him back. He knew he could easily push past her – she was much smaller than him – but it still helped him restrain his urges. “Not worth it, Rayke,” she said, almost under her breath.