The battalion men gave him a hero's welcome once Kyle was cleared for duty. One of them had held onto his things, including the all-important drawstring pouch. It made him feel so much better that he hadn't lost everything.

Their new commander, Captain Sammael, put up with this display for a minute or two. Then he barked orders for a line up.

"This one's from General Archeon's group," whispered the man to Kyle's left. "Been pretty fair so far."

"We figured you'd better take a look to be sure," said the man behind him.

"Now that I have all of you back together, it's time to start working together instead of against each other." Captain Sammael's armor, though of higher quality, had seen its fair share of hits. One of the shoulder guards threatened to fall off but never did, due to sheer stubborness. "Yes, it's true that we'll be digging the latrines until the end of the war. We will also be fighting whenever and wherever our orders take us.

"To that end, we will be training daily to keep up our skills. I also want to talk to each one of you individually while I ascertain all your strengths and weaknesses." The captain turned his head toward Kyle. "You'll be first, Kyle of the Feitas."

Well he doesn't waste time. "Yes, sir," he murmured.

"The rest of you, clean up your tents. If everything's clean, start practicing with sword and glaive. Kyle, you're with me."

He was sure he wasn't imagining the mutterings of the battalion men as he followed Captain Sammael to his tent. He stood at rigid attention while the captain sat in his camp chair.

"At ease, Kyle. Sit down."

"Yes, sir." He felt sweat run down his still healing back. Water Runes did wonders for patching flesh back together but they couldn't make things perfect. If he was going to be feeling pain, he'd rather do it sitting down than standing at attention.

The captain stared at Kyle for a long minute before speaking. "I'm aware of everything's that happened with this battalion so far."

It didn't sound like a question, so he didn't offer any information.

"I understand that you were trying to keep everything running as smooth as possible under the circumstances. Is that true?"

"Yes, sir." Kyle held his breath, just waiting for the talk to turn into a list of commands and demands.

"Have you had any martial training at all before coming here?"

"I...I learned a little bit from Miss Florentine. She's navy and she stayed at the manor I was working at." Which was the truth.

"But other than that, you would say not much at all?"

Kyle shook his head.

"You seem to have a natural flair for command for someone with no training. Is this something you're interested in?"

Oh, here it was. The trap. Just as No Scratch blamed all the problems on him when it was really his fault, Kyle knew the same could happen again. Getting publically whipped in front of everyone was not an experience he cared to repeat. "No, sir."

The captain looked surprised at his answer. "Are you sure?"

I'm sure I don't want another lesson in how nobles have all the power. "Yes, sir. I only did what I had to do because everything was so confusing. All I did was try to look at other people and see what they were doing." No way would he bring up Seven Steps Ahead.

"So you'd say that you just happened to be very lucky."

Kyle nodded. Better to let this new captain think he had a fool's luck than any real skill.

"I see." The captain gave him another one of those piercing stares as though trying to convey words with his eyes alone. "I can assure you that I have the men's best interests at heart. I will work all of you as far as you are able but I am not a man who says no to suggestions from my men.

"Despite how much luck was involved in your situation, a lot of the men seem to admire you and listen to you. Tell them that I welcome their thoughts on how to run our battalion the best we can. You are dismissed."

As soon as he walked back to where the men practiced their weapons, they swarmed on him. "So what'd he tell you, hunh?" "Did he yell or make any demands?"

"Nothing like that." Kyle picked up a practice sword. "He seems genuine and says if we got suggestions, he'll listen to us."

"Is he telling the truth?"

Irritation colored his voice. "I can't see into the future. But he sounds like he'll keep his word. So we should all listen to what he has to say."

Maybe that was for the best. Trying to be in charge of everyone, as satisfying as it had been, also left him a wreck in a horrible situation. If Captain Sammael wanted to be the one in charge, Kyle would gladly hand over all command. All he'd do from now on was follow orders. No way was he going to get himself involved in another noble squabble. It was finally over. They could get back to beating the stuffing out of Armes.

The men had told him how Ferid himself had descended upon the camp to set things to rights. In Kyle's mind, it had nothing to do with him personally but all to do with No Scratch flaunting the law. At least this new leader of the Queen's Knights actually did something. So Kyle felt like the least he could do was continue to fight until the war's end.

He tried to focus on that. Without the distraction of running things, the gaping maw of black sorrow threatened to engulf him. At war's end, he'd have no job, no home and only his pay to his name. Where would he go and what would he do?

Ferid stared at the pile of papers spread out over the table. So many things to look over, now with the war finally going in their direction. He thought it would set a bad precedent if he set all of the papers on fire. As much as he really wanted to.

"Commander Ferid? You wished to speak with me?"

"Ah yes, Galleon! Come on in!" Finally, a decent excuse to not look at all the reports for a while.

"Commander, you asked me to look into that special matter," Galleon said as he stepped into the command tent.

"Yes, and what have you found out?"

The older man shook his head. "I think your assessment of the young man was premature."

"What do you mean?"

"In contrast to all of the stories, factual and otherwise, attributed to him, he has behaved like any other soldier under Captain Sammael. No suggestions, no bravado, no quick thinking or any of the other qualities you're looking for."

Ferid swore. "Dammit! I know he had them. Julius didn't whip everything out of his head."

"Except his nerve," Galleon answered. "Commander, if I may speak freely?"

"You are always welcome to do that in my presence, Galleon," Ferid replied.

"He is not worth the trouble. There are any number of fine soldiers in the army to choose from who have performed admirably during this war."

"I'm aware of that." Ferid drummed his fingers against the table. "But I just know that if given the chance, Kyle could be a great Queen's Knight."

"Would you pin all your hopes on one man? Especially in the position we're all in?"

This was the first time Ferid had ever heard the older man speak his disapproval of an action. On the one hand it was discouraging as Galleon's opinion held a lot of weight. On the other hand, it was encouraging because Galleon actually expressed an honest opinion and not "Yes Commander, No Commander."

"I know he can be great, Galleon. But what you say is also true. Let us let Kyle himself be the determining factor."

Galleon frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The war isn't quite over yet. There's still time to see if he can do something to prove once and for all which one of us is correct. If he does nothing, then I will go over every duty roster you can find and pick appropriate knights that way." That wasn't exactly how Ferid wanted to build up the Queen's Knights. He didn't want a repeat of the Senate conflicts in his own troops. However, he was enough of a realist to know he couldn't hope for the impossible.

"And if somehow you're right, Commander?"

Ferid flashed a bright grin. "Then you get the honor of beating him into shape any way you see fit. You'll already be training Alenia at war's end."

The older man sighed. "I think my hair is going to greyer, Commander."

"But it will make you look so distinguished among your peers and all the army!"

Galleon narrowed his eyes. "Says the man with no grey hair of his own."

"If I'm lucky I'll make it there and won't look half as good as you!" Ferid laughed.

"Do not poke fun at me, Commander."

Kyle did whatever he could to get everyone to follow Captain Sammael. It wasn't too hard; this captain knew what he was doing. Harder still was weathering the looks of the other men who'd looked to him for orders. He finally had to talk to them and explain.

No way would they ever get a second reprieve if they were seen to be flaunting command. If they honestly though the nobles cared about them, they were sorely deluded. All they cared about were bodies following orders. The only reason that (according to the stories he'd heard) Commander Ferid himself visited the camp was for that very reason. No Scratch hadn't been following orders.

"Do you think he would have cared if he had been following orders and decided to discipline us? A little public whipping for all of us?" Kyle snorted. "Of course not. All of us were lucky."

"At least this man's fair," said one of the men. The others followed slowly, their attentions moving back to following orders from the captain.

Let someone else be in charge. Let someone else take on all the pain.

So much easier to just do what you were told. So much easier to sink into the pain that gnawed at his chest every night when he went to sleep. Days and days and days of the same and soon no one would ever remember there being a Blond Bastard.

Everything pointed in that direction. It suited Kyle just fine.

Another day, another battle. This time, morale began to lift. Rumors circulated that the war could end soon in Falena's favor. As long as they kept pushing Armes back, hope grew.

The battalion stood on the fringes, held in reserve. Kyle tossed his military issue katana from hand to hand, feeling adrenaline pool his belly. They had to wait for a signal and run to take ground, mopping up any remaining troops they found. Occasionally his blade caught the light and shone for a moment.

When he saw light reflected in the distance, he frowned and looked down at his blade. No, it wasn't him. He tapped Garren on the shoulder. "You see that?"

"See what, lad?"

"Out in the distance. Some flashing."

Garren narrowed his eyes. "I don't see anything but my eyes aren't that great. Raoul! Use your sight glass and see what that is in the distance."

The tall bearded man assembled the instrument and looked around. "Hunh. 'Slike, two groups out there." He handed the glass to Kyle, who took a look.

Two separate groups of people flickered and flashed light back and forth. One was on horses and the other was with a pile of objects. They were too far to figure out what the objects were. Only that they were in a large pile.

"'S supplies or somethin', right, Kyle?"

"I don't know." He lowered the sight glass. "The other one is some kind of cavalry. Maybe guarding the other group?" Something was odd about them. Why would they just be sitting out there and not joining the fight?

"Think it's important?" asked Garren.

"Captain told us to say here," someone murmured.

Unlike before, in another battle, they had solid orders. There was no threat of being overwhelmed. But still, something about the pile in the distance bothered Kyle. If it was food there'd be people loading it on carts, horses and mules to pull them. A huge pile of something and only a few people around it. Why would you have a huge pile of something in your army and have little in the way of guards?

"Can anyone run fast to where the captain is? Tell him everything that I'm gonna tell you and see if he wants us to do anything."

The sense of wrongness still churned in his gut, but this time, they couldn't just up and leave. They just had to wait and see. Wait for the runner to return. See what the Armes' men were planning.

"Kyle," said Raoul. "'Smovin'."

"What's moving?"

"Horses movin' for the battle. Not guardin' th' pile any more."

"Maybe it's just food or bedding or something stupid like that. It might be a lot of nothing," a man said to his friend.

Five minutes later, the runner returned with a message. "He took the time to write everything down. Damn, he's a cool one," he said, panting.

Kyle flipped open the ragged piece of parchment. All it said was, "Use your best judgment but don't leave the post unguarded."

And he gave this right to me. I feel like this is some kind of trick but...ah screw it. "All right guys! New plan. We're going to have a look at what's over there. If it's nothing, we can all just feel really stupid and get back here. If it's something, we'll figure out what to do once we know what it is."

Even though the battalion had a stable commander, even though he was the youngest of them all, the men jumped to attention. As though they'd been waiting for Kyle to give orders once again. Ten men would stay behind and the rest would go for the pile of supplies.

They didn't know if they'd be needed to bolster the lines or if the cavalry would return. It necessitated a vicious run while crouched down, taking advantage of all available cover. Kyle forced himself to take seven strides for every little rest break. Deep-as-the-Feitas-high-as-the-Sun. Stop. He repeated the mantra over and over until the group came within striking distance of the pile of...

"What is that?" whispered the man to his right.

Even being up close didn't answer the question. But it wasn't food or supplies that sat in a pile. The few people sitting around the pile were making sphere shaped packages filled with powder. The only thing that made sense to Kyle was they were some kind of weapon. If that was the case, they needed to get rid of whatever this was.

"Pass the word. These guys don't look armed. Let's just capture them and have them tell us what these things are. Agreed?"

The Armes supply guards spooked as soon as the battalion men leaped from their cover. The six of them held up their hands in surrender. "All right. We're not going to hurt you. We want to know what this is," Kyle said, pointing to the pile.

No one volunteered any information.

"They aren't talking. Maybe better to set fire to this thing and move along," said one of the men, trying to make a torch.

"Don't!" one of the prisoners screamed. "Don't set it on fire! You'll kill us all!"

"Shut up!" the others hissed.

"I don't feel like dying here!"

"Why is it dangerous to use fire?" Kyle knelt down by the talkative prisoner. "Why would it kill us all?"

The prisoner looked away from his fellow Armes' men. "Just trust me that it would? Please?"

"Kyle! The cavalry is running right back this way! And they got more with 'em!" Garren pointed to the distance.

"Well, shit." He looked at the prisoners. "You're coming with us. Does anyone have a Fire Rune on them!"

"I do!"

"Wait, I said don't use that!"

Kyle ignored the prisoner. "All right. How many have Water Runes?"

Including himself, the battalion boasted four Water Runes. It would have to do for the plan quickly forming and skipping ahead, step by step in Kyle's brain. Mindful of the cavalry approaching, they worked quickly to cast ice over every little package. If fire proved to be lethal for whatever these weapons were, ice should render them harmless. In theory.

"Kyle, we're running out of time!" Garren yelled.

"I know! Just one last thing." He used the last of his ice to create a little slide along the ground. "All right! On my count, kick everything in this pile along the slide! Ready? GO!"

Countless icy spheres of powder tumbled down and spread out into the field. The cavalry men jerked their horses around as though avoiding a castle wall.

Falenan men and the prisoners ran back to their side of the fight. Kyle tapped the Fire Rune user on the shoulder and pointed back at the disorderly pile of weapons. "Just hit one. Just so we scare them a little!"

"You got it." A flit of flame rose from the man's hand and soared toward the target.

"Are you crazy?! We have to run for cover!" yelled the talkative prisoner.

"We iced them over so we should be okay," said Kyle, yanking the Armes' man along.

"We have to run faster! We could still be too close if they start to ignite!"
Ignite? In Kyle's mind, the only thing that could ignite were Fire Runes. Did setting the weapons on fire create some massive Fire Rune spell? That would explain why they were kept away from the rest of the army.

"Everybody run! RUN!"

The group met up with those still guarding their remaining position. They had enough time to knock them all off their feet and curl up on the ground, protecting their heads.

The explosion knocked the bottom out of the world. Force pressed them into the ground like a giant's hand. Sound disappeared into a high pitched whine. Dirt and dust covered him as though he'd been swimming through it.

When the unrelenting pressure finally stopped, they all cautiously poked their heads up. Had any been able to hear, they would have heard themselves yelling out, "You okay?" "What happened?" "Are we still alive?" "I can't hear anything!"

Using sign language and writing down questions helped the men reorganize themselves. They tied up the prisoners with belts and whatever scraps of rope could be found. Garren tapped Kyle on the shoulder and pointed to the field.

Kyle's eyes widened. The Armes' forces were starting to back off in the fight. Did blowing up all the weapons really take the fight out of them? Was it some sort of secret plan that they'd destroyed?

He still didn't know the answer by the time Captain Sammael came back to the men. His hearing had recovered enough to hear Raoul say, "...'sall this crazy bastard's fault, captain!"

"Tell me that again, Lucretia. You just told me what I want to hear so I want to make sure I'm not dreaming."

The strategist fluttered her fan and smiled. "I said that Armes is willing to talk peace now. Whether they'll actually take it will be up to how the agreement is worded."

Ferid closed his eyes and tilted back his head. "Thank you. What do we need to do now?"

"I believe a messenger will be forthcoming tomorrow. For now, rest. You have earned it for Falena, Ferid."

He didn't hear her leave the tent. Relief washed through him so strongly he felt like crying. He could see his wife again. He could see his adorable children again. True, they'd have to rebuild so much of the country, but that could be done. He'd seen firsthand the kind of people who lived here.

"Commander," said Galleon, entering the tent.

"Yes? Oh...is something wrong?"

Galleon grumbled and looked away. "You said you wanted some news to see if your prospect might do something to distiguish himself."

The grin across Ferid's face stretched larger. "Yes. Do go on."

"In the battle of last week, Armes planned on using highly dangerous materials to lob at our soldiers. Apparently they were like launching fire spells without the need of a rune and that caused more damage."

"I see. I think I saw a few of them used." He'd been downright thankful that only a few were used. Had enough determined men thrown the non-rune spells against his troops, it would have been a disaster.

"Apparently," Galleon continued, "There was a stockpile of the weapons. They were destroyed in a raid on an Armes' position."

"Who destroyed them?"

"A group of men from Captain Sammael's volunteer army battalion. And...I hate to say it, but Kyle was among them."

"He led them! I know he had to! Do you see, Galleon? He has something in his head and heart that can't be snuffed out." Ferid drummed his fingers against the table. "Obviously he's young, but as I said before, he can be trained to be even better."

"So how did you want to proceed?"

"Hmmm. Let's wait until the war is officially over. Zahhak's idea for inviting Alenia can happen at the same time. I want to invite as many people to the palace as I can, so they can see what they were defending. Then I'll invite our two new trainees into the Queen's Knights."

Galleon sighed. "As you say, Commander."

"Why so reluctant, my friend? I was very serious about letting you train him into the ground, if that's what it takes."

"I don't know if he's going to be disciplined or skilled enough for life in the palace," Galleon replied. "I can train him all I want to, but if he won't listen, then there's little I can do."

"You forget one thing." Ferid stood up and clapped Galleon on the shoulder. "I found this place pretty intimidating when I first got here and I adapted. I'm sure he'll be fine."

The words were spread all over camp. The words everyone had wanted to hear: We won. The war is over.

The army turned itself into the largest impromptu celebration in the queendom. Feast quality items were no where to be seen, but every camp had a bit of ale and willing to share with their neighbors. Cooks started making cauldrons full of solid stew. Generals and captains alike turned a blind eye toward their troops.

For one night, the rules relaxed. Cards and dice seemed to spontaneously generate. Men and women traveled freely from camp to camp. The overwhelming relief of surviving gave way to the overwhelming need to celebrate life. Moans and groans could be heard from many tents, men with their ladies and any other combination a body could think of. All was welcome for one night.

Kyle sat under a tree, lazily drinking a mug of ale. Some strapping swordswoman must have like what she saw for she claimed Kyle for her tent. Caught up in the euphoria, Kyle wholeheartedly agreed. He had to admit, he would always remember that wild ride, even if he'd already forgotten her name.

"Kyle, taking it easy?" Captain Sammael peered down at him.

"Oh uh...just relaxing, sir! I can move if you..."

"No, you're fine. At ease." The captain slumped down to the ground next to him. "Dammit. My tolerance must be shot."

Kyle grinned in the dark. "Celebrating, sir?"

"Just a bit. I already know you have. Half the camp heard you."

Feitas! But she had been thorough and that had been worth it so...

"Just trying to do my part, sir!"

"Of course you are." The captain rubbed his eyes. "That and everyone else around here. Soon enough, we'll pick up and move out and everyone will go their separate ways. Back to fields and forest and the river itself."

Where would he go? The thought started to sober Kyle up. Could he go back to the manor? He supposed he could but that really wasn't a place he wanted to return. Could he join a river crew and cruise along the Feitas? Maybe but who knew when normal traffic would return? His plan to join Mischa's household was forever lost. Mischa...

"What about you, captain?" he asked, trying to distract himself from his brooding thoughts.

"What about me?"

"What will happen to you?"

"I'll head back to the capital where we'll be reassigned new posts. Maybe to help rebuild the country or guard the borders. I'll find out when I get there." Sammael looked over at him. "I wouldn't mind having you with me."

What?

"What?" Kyle asked, speaking his thoughts aloud.

"I don't claim to know what kind of background you have but with a name like the Blond Bastard, it's pretty obvious. The army would be a good place for you and I could use an able assistant."

"An assistant?"

"That's right." The captain leaned back against the tree. "Someone I can trust to watch over my troops and solve problems as they come up."

"But...but don't you have to be a noble to do that?" That's what he'd heard anyway. Still, the idea seemed planted in his head. He didn't have anywhere to go back to. Being in the army would always keep him busy, feed and clothe him and give him some kind of focus. True, he'd be surrounded by nobles, but if he could stick by the ones who weren't trying to kill him, he might be all right.

"Not for everything. As for the position I'm considering, I could certainly recommend you to my superiors. You have some time to think about it before we end up at the capital."

"The capital? I thought only the army leaders were going back?"

The captain groaned and stood up. "I was going to make the announcement tomorrow but I might not be very sober for quite a while. A number of battalions are being invited to Sol-Falena to receive the personal thanks of the queen and king. We are one of them for all that we've managed to accomplish during the war."

Personal thanks from the royal couple themselves? Maybe they'd even get some medals or rewards. Holy shit, that could mean all kinds of good for every man and his family. Enough to wipe out all the bad under the rule of No Scratch. "Really?"

"Really. Go ahead and tell your friends."

He didn't need any more encouragement. His stride wobbled here and there but he ran to find Garren. Provided the old man hadn't drunk himself asleep.

Sol-Falena was the most beautiful city in the entire world. That's what Kyle thought when he first laid eyes on it and his opinion hadn't changed since walking around it with the men. At night, the palace glittered with decoration and the sparkling water flowing inside.

"These are somma the finest lookin' women I've ever seen," whispered one of the men.

"And they're probably all married to rich nobles," said another.

Not even being surrounded by nobles could dampen Kyle's enthusiasm for the event. He kept up an internal monologue, telling Mischa about every little thing he saw, knowing that somehow, his friend would know about it.

I think I might have a job soon. A real one. This noble captain who isn't too corrupt or shortsighted wants me to help him. It's not the most ideal thing to do but I don't think I'll mind too much. Kyle picked a quiet corner to sit and eat his plate full of food. Captain just says he has to talk to a few other noble guys and things will get all set.

He thought he might be able to find Battleaxe somewhere in the sea of heroes. For all that she did, he hoped she'd be rightly honored. The only word on what she was up to came from Garren. Apparently they had bumped into each other during the celebration and had been comparing stories. All Kyle knew was she was well and one piece. Would she go back to the manor after all her hard work? Just to go back and train some guards?

You never met her, Mischa, but you'd like her. She deserves a lot better. Maybe I can tell the captain about her. She'd be good at everything!

"Kyle!" Garren fought his way through the crowd toward him. "You better eat fast! King's gonna make a speech and start handing out medals to the groups!"

Choking down the remains of his roast turkey, Kyle wiped his face, straightened his uniform and followed Garren back to the battalion. Men started to get in line. Kyle took a place beside Captain Sammael and he nodded back in approval.

He couldn't hear much of the speech, but it must have been good, the way some of the men cheered. Come to think of it, this was his first time actually seeing the king in person. The king, more popularly known as the Commander of the Queen's Knights, gestured out with his arm and his voice grew louder.

They say he was just a regular guy from another country who won Queen Arshtat in the Sacred Games. But he looks like a noble. Maybe if you associate with nobles enough, it just sort of rubs off on you.

He hoped that wouldn't be the case if he worked with Captain Sammael. Kyle never wanted to be so far removed from his past that he forgot what kind of person he really was. Maybe that was the biggest problem with a lot of nobles. They couldn't all have been born rich, but they sure all acted like it.

The speech over, the commander walked through the men, saying a few words and handing out medals. As he made his way closer, Kyle could hear his voice, commending each of the groups on their various accolades in battle.

Why does he sound familiar? Maybe...maybe I must have heard him give a speech before. Or yell out some commands at the start of a battle. That made the most amount of sense. Royal or not, the commander always would say something at the beginning of a fight. Rune users would make sure the words were heard by all, even if you couldn't see the man in the press of the crowd.

Flanking the commander were two men in the black and gold of the Queen's Knights armor. If Kyle knew next to nothing about the commander, he knew enough about the knights. Sir Zahhak, stories said, waded into the battle and never broke his composure. A newer knight, he'd performed impressively during the war with Armes. Publicly he never showed much emotion. A more technical kind of fighter, according to what soldiers said. The kind of man you wanted to cross swords with and be happy you got thrown across an arena. Just to say you had a chance to fight with him.

But his popularity paled in comparison to Sir Galleon. The man had served as a Queen's Knight for years, coming from the town of Lordlake. Some said that if Sir Galleon were to up and become the Commander, not many would protest. He dealt with everyone with the same, noble and commoner alike. His knowledge of combat dwarfed many others. Even though his hair was starting to go more and more grey, no one had any doubt Sir Galleon would continue to serve the current royal couple faithfully.

All three of them finally got to their battalion. Now that he thought about it, it seemed like they were put in last. Maybe because they had to suffer all that punishment. It didn't matter now. All of them stood rigid with attention as the commander came near. He stopped in front of Captain Sammael.

"I've heard so many impressive things about your men," said the commander.

"I didn't have the privilege of working with them from the start but I agree, Your Highness. We have accomplished a lot together."

That was their captain! Not trying to grab the glory but always willing to share it around. Kyle felt a glow of pride. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad working with him. Provided things would go his way.

The commander laughed. "Indeed, indeed. And the soldier beside you?"

Captain Sammael put an arm on Kyle's shoulder. "If all goes well, he will be my new assistant when I return to duty at my usual post, Your Highness."

Something about the words brought out the oddest look in the commander's face. What, did this guy think he wasn't good enough? Was there some kind of problem? Kyle felt his hands ball up into fists. No. He couldn't let someone tell him he wasn't good enough. He did his very best, hadn't he? Lost his brother, get his back flayed open and survive the war and then to have someone tell him no?

"I regret to inform you that there might be a bit of change to your plans."

Captain Sammael stared at the commander. "I believe he is more than qualified for the task at hand. With all due respect, Your Highness, what could possibly change my mind?"

Kyle relaxed his hands. Somehow he'd gained the total faith of the captain. Someone would finally stick up for him.

The commander smiled. "I mean no disrespect for your choice, Captain Sammael. It's just that I need a new knight more than you need a new assistant."

Wait, what?

"You need a new...oh. OH. Oh, I see." The captain bowed his head.

Kyle did NOT see what both of them seemed to. He looked at both of them, his eyebrows raising.

"I will find you an able assistant to take his place, captain."

"I am ever so grateful for your help, Your Highness."

The commander nodded and turned his attention toward Kyle. "Will you come with me?"

"Me? For...what? Your Highness," he added quickly.

That seemed to amuse the man and he grinned. "Oh, I think you'll understand it quite quickly."

"I'm not sure..."

Kyle nearly fell forward. Someone had kicked the back of his knee. "Kyle!" the captain hissed near his ear. "Go with him now. That is your sovereign asking you to go! So you better go and don't look back."

Was he getting punished? Honored? He looked to the two Queen's Knights but neither of them offered so much as a hint of what was going on. Hesitant, he followed the commander, who put an arm around his shoulders.

He couldn't see much, surrounded by the three men in black and gold armor. He heard a lot of whispers as they walked to the dais. The light of so many candles dazzled him, making it hard to get a good look at who he thought might be Arshtat on her throne. Kyle could make out the form of a younger woman standing guard next to her. All he got was an impression of red-orange hair and a modified black and gold uniform.

Sir Galleon put a hand on Kyle's shoulder and stood next to him while the commander talked about the great honor of selecting one of his army to serve him personally. Somehow the words didn't make sense until the older man whispered to him. "You're going to be one of us now."

If any other man or woman in Falena had been chosen for such a lofty position, maybe they would cry, say an oath, be profuse with praise.

Kyle tried to swallow with a mouth gone completely dry. What. The. Fuck. Just. Happened?