A thickly muscled youth of no more than nineteen years held up a hand to his winded opponent, turning to Aaron, “Sir?”
“Good foot work,” Aaron said, and the young man grinned wide, “now, stop holding that sword like you’re a virgin latched on to his first tit. Gently, Bastion, hold it gently. So gentle that, if it was a woman, her virtue would be gone before she knew it was being taken, you understand?”
“Yes sir,” the youth said, still grinning, “just like a woman!” Then he went back to battering his weary opponent.
“According to the scouts we sent,” the captain said, “Belgarin’s army still hasn’t left Baresh. We’ve still some time, it seems.”
“Good,” Aaron said, “maybe by the time they get here, some of these men will be able to swing their swords without dropping them. It’ll be entertaining to watch, anyway, though I’m not sure for who.”
“Ah,” The captain said, looking past Aaron, “it seems you’ve someone that wishes to speak with you.” He winked, “I’ll come back.”
Aaron turned to see Adina standing not far away and made his way to her. “General,” she said, smiling widely, and Aaron groaned.
“Don’t remind me, please. My father was a general. I’m a sellsword that knows how to make people bleed and little else.”
“I’m no strategist,” Adina said, still smiling, “but it seems to me that making people bleed is part of the requirement for winning a war.”
She was beautiful standing there, as always, the sun shining in her dark hair, the dusty riding leathers she wore doing nothing to diminish her beauty. “How comes the training of the horsemen?”
“Well,” Adina said, wincing, “they all know what a horse is now. At least, I’m fairly sure.”
Aaron grunted a laugh, “It’s a start, anyway.”
“And you?” Adina said, glancing at the soldiers in their dusty leathers, watching the dance of their practice swords as men struggled against their opponents. “You know,” she said, “they look different, out of those white uniforms and golden cloaks.”
“Yeah,” Aaron said, nodding, “they almost look like soldiers.”
“We received word from Ellemont this morning.”
“And?”
She turned to meet his eyes, “He agreed to meet with us.”
“Well. It’s a start,” Aaron said again. “And what of Leomin? I haven’t seen him in a day or two.”
“Not many have, from what I gather,” Adina said, smiling ruefully, “there also just so happen to be some young noblewomen that seemed to have vanished right around the same time.”
Aaron groaned, “Gods, we’ll find the man shacked up in one of those rooms or another,” he said, glancing at the castle behind them.
“I suspect you’re right,” Adina said, “but, then, it might take some time. It’s a big castle.”
He sighed, “Right. And Owen?”
Adina frowned, “Still no sign. The men all have his description, anyway.”
Aaron grunted, “For whatever that’s worth. The man changes faces like I change clothes. More really.”
She sniffed, “I noticed.”
He grinned at her, and she pretended to fight him as he pulled her close and kissed her, feeling the best he’d felt in a long time. There was a lot of blood and pain and death coming their way—but, then, there always was. For now, the day was cool, the sun was warm, and she was with him. “I love you, you know.”
“I know,” she said, grinning, “Now, how much longer do you think it will be before you’re finished here?”
Aaron let her loose of his embrace and glanced back at the training soldiers. “I don’t know. Couple of hours, maybe, before they break to eat.” He turned back, “Why?”
“Well,” she said, grinning, that mischievous glint in her eyes that he’d come to know—and love. “I was just wondering. It’s a big castle, after all.”
Aaron couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face, “Sergeant Wendell!” He yelled without looking away from her.
A man who’d been marching between the lines of fighting men, correcting them, ran to where Aaron and Adina stood, “Yes sir, general. Is the general too weary to eat and needs me to hand feed him again, sir?” He said, giving a grin that stretched the scar running diagonally across his face.
Aaron had discovered the man a few days after taking over as the army’s general. A gruff, irreverent bastard that had been consigned to the most menial tasks Vander could find. Not pretty enough, Aaron guessed. As for his irreverence, Aaron found it refreshing. An ugly bastard, no doubt, but a good man. A good sergeant. And one that knew how to use a blade and command soldiers. “Nah, I just like to see a man with a dog’s face run, always wonder if you’re gonna go down on all fours or not.”
The man’s grin grew wider at that, and Aaron grunted. “Sergeant, I’ve got matters to attend at the castle, and I’ll need you to take over.”
“You mean,” the sergeant said, “you got tired of standin’ there holdin’ that piece of ground down, and you want I should do everything, like always?”
Aaron grinned at Adina before looking back at the man. “Something like that, sergeant.”
He grabbed Adina’s hand and started leading her toward the castle in the distance when the sound of shouting and clapping erupted behind them. Aaron winced, refusing to turn as he led Adina on. Cheering. The bastards were cheering.
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You can continue your journey with Aaron and the others by picking up your copy of
A Sellsword’s Resolve, the third book in the Seven Virtues series, now at the appropriate link below:
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Note from the Author
Well, dear reader, we’ve come to the end again. I hope you’ve enjoyed spending some more time with Aaron, Adina and the others. I also hope you were as surprised by some of the book’s revelations as I was. As always, the book you’ve read would be much worse (picture a dozen wadded up page 1’s, and you won’t be far off; also, they’d probably be on fire) without the help of several people, so I’d like to take this opportunity to thank them now.
Thank you to my wife, Andrea, who sacrifices a lot so that I can sit around in house shoes and make things up. Thanks to my mom, dad, and brothers who never complain that nearly every conversation we have starts with me talking about people and places that aren’t strictly real. Thank you also to my newborn son, Gabriel. I’m not sure how he helped with the book, but I’m sure he did and, anyway, he makes sure I get my exercise. What can I say? The little guy keeps me on my toes.
Thank you to all of those beta readers who took the time out of their busy schedules to share this dream with me for a time—the book is better for it. A very special thank you to Morris. Above and beyond, sir. Above and beyond.
And the final thanks? Well, I’ve saved that for you, dear reader. If it’s been slightly gummed, I apologize. Gabriel tried to run off with it, but he’s a baby and doesn’t know any better, so I ask that you forgive him. Anyway, he didn’t make it far
. You see, he can’t run yet. Or walk. Take it from me though, he’s got the intense stare mastered. He reminds me of it every time I consider putting him down to work on my next book.
I am glad you took the time to visit with Aaron and the others. Aaron probably won’t say it—truth is, he can be a bit of a jerk—so I’ll say it for him. Thanks. And until next time,
I hope you find some wonderful worlds to explore,
Jacob Peppers
About the Author
Jacob Peppers lives in Georgia with his wife, his newborn son, Gabriel, and three dogs. He is an avid reader and writer and when he’s not exploring the worlds of others, he’s creating his own. His short fiction has been published in various markets, and his short story, “The Lies of Autumn,” was a finalist for the 2013 Eric Hoffer Award for Short Prose.
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