Thibalt stared down at his heaped plate of fried eggs and picked up his fork resolutely. Perhaps she's trying to make me ill, he thought as he struggled to find an excuse not to eat the dozen runny eggs. His chance to escape was taken away as Miera and Borrin entered the room with small bowls of porridge. As they took their seats, Thibalt gazed longingly at the porridge in front of Borrin and then turned in search of sympathy to Estallion, who was seated next to him with a cup of tea in his hand and a wet towel covering his forehead.
Estallion noticed his friend's saddened state and held up his hand. "Don't look at me. I've got my own problems."
Thibalt had heard Estallion stumble through the front door early in the morning and knew that he had overindulged from the sheer noise of his entry. The previous night they had all left the house to find some relaxation. The night had progressed quickly and Thibalt and Miera had soon had their fill of ale and bawdy tavern conversation. They left the bar, dragging Borrin reluctantly behind them, and leaving Estallion and several of his men in the midst of a heated game of dice.
"What's the problem dear?" asked Miera softly.
Thibalt forced a smile and replied, "Nothing at all." After several mornings of Thibalt leaving the house without breaking his fast, Miera had insisted on making morning meals for him. "You can't be running off for a full day's training without a decent start to the day," she had scolded him. She did not however know what a reasonable start to the day was. He let out a deep breath and plunged his fork into the pile of food.
"By the way I think Irrol is passed out in the General's room," commented Estallion. He watched Thibalt working his way through his breakfast and felt a sudden bout of nauseousness. "Excuse me. I need to go return a couple of last nights drinks."
The look that Miera cast Thibalt as Estallion ran from the room told him that his wife was about to speak her mind.
"You know I love Estallion," she began. "But I think as his friend you should put a stop to his derelict behaviour."
"It's his coin. I can't tell him what to do with it," Thibalt argued through a mouthful of egg.
"Finish your food before you talk. Now that you are a Captain you need to start behaving like one," she lectured him.
"Yes," he replied softly.
The door leading to the front of their home opened and General Harrinus walked in, doing up the last buttons of his overcoat. "There appear to be a giant and a dwarf lying prone on my bedroom floor," he mentioned, taking his seat at the table. "I believe they belong to you," he motioned to Thibalt.
"That would be Irrol and Skiddle, Sir," Borrin answered. He quickly rose from his seat to wake his comrades.
"Please accept my apology," said Thibalt sheepishly.
Harrinus tried to keep a straight face, yet couldn't help but smirk. "I didn't see that mute that always hangs around with Irrol."
"Torrlan seems to have a greater level of control than the others," Thibalt replied.
"Hardly," muttered Estallion as he returned to the room. "He's sprawled over a pile of your men who decided the garden was a good place to finish the night."
Thibalt placed his head in his hands and Harrinus began to chuckle. "Perhaps you need to take more control of your men, Captain. They may be performing beyond expectations on the training field, but their behaviour is immature."
"I will, sir," Thibalt replied resolutely. He had grown accustomed to training the men under his command, but it was no easy task. Estallion had named the group, Steelfist's Scorpions, for the fearsome reputation that they had gained in the training ground. Thibalt now realised that he would need to bring down their confidence to keep them in control.
He dropped his fork on his half finished plate and turned to his second in command. "Wake all of those fools up. I want them at the barracks within the hour."
Estallion leapt into the air and saluted his Captain. "Yes, sir! At once, sir," he shouted dramatically. He then turned to leave.
Thibalt moved to follow him, thankful that he had found an escape from his breakfast.
"Has anyone seen my boots?" General Harrinus quickly asked.
Estallion's call came from the back of the house. "I may have misplaced them. And by misplaced them, I may have parted ways unwillingly with them." There came a short pause. "And by unwillingly, I mean I lost them in a game of chance."
Harrinus let out a tired groan.
"It was hardly my fault," Estallion continued. "I had run out of coin. What was I supposed to gamble with? I can hardly use my own clothes. They are much too nice."
"Get him out of here, Thibalt," Harrinus grumbled.
"Yes, sir," replied Thibalt. "Controlling Estallion might not be as easy."
An hour later, Thibalt stood ready at the training grounds. He now wore a black leather coat and blue leggings. On his chest was a scorpion on a field of dark blue, his mark as captain of Steelfist's Scorpions.
In front of him stood his thirty men. They all wore identical black vests and brown pants, and it did not take a keen eye to notice the black rings under most of their eyes. At Thibalt's side stood Estallion, who was wearing a yellow woollen jumper over bright red leggings. Thibalt had long ago learnt to ignore his friend's choice of attire.
It was time for him to establish a greater level of control.
"Listen here!" Thibalt yelled at the top of his voice. The Scorpions were all shaken out of their sleep deprived trances and stood to attention. "I have been very lenient with you since we began our training. It has come to my attention that the trust that I gave you was misplaced." He raised his voice angrily. "You are Steelfist's Scorpions. Start acting like it! The name has become tainted with stories of drunken fights, gambling and indecency."
"Sorry about that," Estallion giggled.
Thibalt turned to his friend with a fierce expression. "This is no time for your antics!" he barked. Estallion's eyes widened in surprise. "I think it's best I go see to the equipment," he decided, turning to head towards the armoury.
The Scorpions, never having witnessed their Captain so vexed, avoided eye contact.
"This all stops today," Thibalt continued, in a firm voice. "If I catch one of you with so much as a hint of spirits on your breath or a pair of dice in the same room, I will have you lashed and thrown into holding. By the time this training ends, you will be so damned disciplined that I'll have you standing as still as statues with cups of hot oil balancing on your heads."
The Scorpions remained glued to the spot, none of them willing to speak in defence. Thibalt began to pace along the dusty ground in front of his men with a stern scowl. "So far I have drilled you tirelessly. You have shown me your skills in combat and your fitness, which is adequate enough." He stopped and turned towards his Scorpions. "Today the training steps up. This squad will need to be ready for anything and everything that the Honour Guard requires. If Errollan wants us to scale a cliff face with nothing but a sharp stick, then by Skiye we will be able to do it. "The fact that you can fight does not make you a Scorpion. Any child with a lump of wood can call himself a warrior." Thibalt looked deliberately at Irrol. The giant started as if to comment, but kept his mouth shut after locking eyes with his angered Captain. Thibalt was pleased, his scolding was having the desired effect.
He stepped towards the diminutive Skiddle and carried on, "Do not for a second think that I will hesitate to throw you back to the streets. Army deserters are not held in high regard in Feldom. I would not be surprised to see you lying cold and hungry in a gutter within a week."
The small thief took Thibalt's last comment to heart and bowed his head.
"I want you to meet Wilbred," Thibalt motioned behind the men. They all swung about to see a lithe man in army clothing, leaning his foot against a wooden crate. "Wilbred is going to be giving you some lessons. By the time he's finished, I expect you all to be able to leap from of a four story building without making so much as a footprint when you land. I want you to be able to run through a temple with steel clad shoes and not make even a hint of
noise. Even the old one's amongst you!" Thibalt said, facing Robeld.
The old man's face clearly showed that the humour of Thibalt's singling out was lost on him.
Wilbred picked up the crate beside him and threw it at the Scorpions. It struck the ground hard, causing the lid to pop off and the contents to spill out. Torrlan and Borrin moved towards it and picked up the black strips of cloth that had fallen out of the crate.
"Blindfolds," Wilbred pointed out. "Now put them on and stand in line. I'm going to show you grunts what it's like to have no eyes."
As the Scorpions milled around the crate, Thibalt moved up to Skiddle and Torrlan and dragged them away from the others.
"What now?" squirmed Skiddle.
"You two don't need anymore training in the arts of stealth. I have special assignments for you." Thibalt pointed towards a small building on the other side of the grounds covered with a red roof. "Torrlan head into that building and find Sophee. She is going to familiarise you with some interesting herbs and venoms. Let's see if we can't get more use out of those knives of yours." The mute nodded and moved off.
"Do I get something fun too?" asked Skiddle eagerly.
Thibalt smiled and led Skiddle to a small table standing against the wall of one of the barrack's many buildings. "Sit down," Thibalt ordered.
Skiddle took a seat and waited as a man with a long beard stepped out of the building. The man dropped a thickly bound book in front of the young thief and sat down beside him.
"This is Ullwin. He is going to teach you how to read."
"What!" Skiddle burst out. "I didn't sign up for this."
"You didn't sign up," Thibalt reminded him harshly. "You are here because you know that you are never going to have a better opportunity in your life to get off the streets. I will not have one of my own men unable to read. You will sit here until you can recite that book from front to back in a pitch black room."
Skiddle's head sank to the table as his captain moved away to watch Wilbred lining up his men with a long cane. Thibalt chuckled whilst he watched his blinded Scorpions trying to avoid the swift strikes of Wilbred's cane. He noticed Estallion take his accustomed place at his side and said, "I see you have managed to return to your usual self."
"Whatever are you talking about, my dear Thibalt," replied Estallion. He pulled out a large wedge of cheese and a fresh hunk of bread. "Hungry?"
Thibalt quickly held his hand up. "I don't think I'm going to be hungry for quite a while. Where did you find those?"
"It was really strange. I was on my way to the armoury and thought I'd stop in on General Harrinus."
"Which is nowhere near the armoury," noted Thibalt.
"Mind your manners Thibalt and don't interrupt," Estallion chided. "As I was saying, I went to his office and he wasn't there. I was about to leave when I noticed someone had left this food on his table. Well I couldn't just leave it there to spoil, could I? Who knows how angry Kirth would have been to find food scraps on his desk?"
"Who knows," Thibalt repeated, highly amused.
"My, this is really good stuff," observed Estallion. "You should try this cheese. It would go well with a plate of fried eggs."
Thibalt rolled his eyes. "Come, let us exert some of our authority."
Estallion finished off the cheese with one last bite and pulled out a handkerchief, remarkably similar to the General's own. Wiping his mouth with a pleased smirk, he started to whistle a cheerful tune and trotted after Thibalt.
Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One) Page 107
