"Excuse me," I waded into the back of the group and pushed past thick muscular physiques on my way to where the action was, "soldiers coming through!"
I said we would pretend not to be officers but I didn't say we weren't already members of the unit.
Of course, the sight of the Foolhardies insignia on my coat made the recruits part for me like Moses parted the Red Sea, making it much quicker to get to the front of the encirclement. Or it would have been if I hadn't heard the comment directed at me.
"That runt's a soldier of the unit?" someone asked.
My ears pricked at the choice of words.
"Nah, bro, probably just a small fry working in the kitchens or something," another guy chuckled.
I stopped dead in my tracks. "Runt… Small fry…"
My hand moved to grip my falchion.
I turned around, my eyes searching the faces around me.
"Which of you bastards called me small, huh~~h!?" I snapped.
