This was how the next few days went.
Kilian was thrown in the back of the wagon and had to endure the constant hard travel, that was bouncing him around.
If they set up camp, he would mostly spend his time in the tent with Sail, who would ignore him, except for when the other mercenaries had started to get lively.
Then Sail would undress Kilian and lay down beside him, ordering anyone who came in to claim Kilian, to get out of there.
The last few times he had needed to actually show off his magic to scare them away, as they had grown more and more impatient with what they had been promised.
Kilian laid there, his body was mostly naked again, and Sail's body was barely touching him. However even in these situations, Sail never went further, and Kilian was relieved with the act at this point.
'It is better than having those men out there have their way with me.' He thought, though he never gave Sail any attention.
Since the first night, Sail had also not kissed Kilian again, but there were times Kilian noticed Sail touch his lip with an ecstatic grin.
"We are almost there, Kilian."
Sail no longer called him Young Lord, and Kilian ignored him.
"You are always so cold to me." Sail continued, but Kilian was suspecting this man liked the cold attitude directed at him.
Kilian kneed Sail in the gut.
Brutus had just been there, and Sail had this time had his clothes off as well to further act out their roles.
Sail had touched Kilian's ass, but as soon as Brutus had left, Kilian's knee dug into the abdomen of the man next to him.
There was a flash of satisfaction on Sail's face, and the hand on Kilian was retracted immediately.
"I told you not to touch me." Kilian let out.
Even if he was following along with the act, he wanted this man to touch him as little as possible.
"Come on Kil, I had to show him the goods."
The man almost sounded pleading, and his demeanor had changed since the first night.
"Don't call me that." Kilian let out fast, not wanting this annoying human to call him by the nickname Rayden used.
'He looks like he like it.'
Kilian thought, watching the man only give genuine smiles when Kilian was cold to him.
The dim light was still not enough for him to use his powers, and he was kept blindfolded during the day.
Even if the magical light hovering above them was lit, Kilian had trouble concentrating, his entire body was exhausted from the travel, and his hope to be found by the Valen knights was slowly diminishing.
One morning, sounds of clanging metal and loud noises woke Kilian from an attempted sleep in the back of the wagon.
There were voices all around, and a rough hand grabbed him, throwing him out of the wagon.
The grass under him was trampled and the earth muddy.
The blindfold was removed from his face and the bright rays of the sun made him narrow his eyes while quickly looking around.
Knights and tents were everywhere, and Kilian looked at Sail who was speaking to a knight with a slightly better-looking armor than the rest moving about.
"Here he is, the Heathgrave deserter."
Sail gestured towards Kilian who was dragged closer by Brutus til his face was straight in front of dark leather boots.
A man looked down at him with contempt in his eyes.
"This is that useless son?"
There were many people around, and Kilian was unsure if he should try and escape. If he was actually known to be a deserter, then they would not hold back in chasing him down.
'My father must have signed me up, as the representative of the Heathgraves.'
There was nothing he could do to dispute it, even if he had lived as a Valen the last couple of months, he was a Heathgrave unless he had been removed completely from the ancestry registry of the family.
If he rebelled, he would be going directly against the king's order.
"Get him cleaned up and send him to the voluntary barracks."
Sail winked at him and waved while leaving, and Kilian could only look back regretting not having planted a fist in that smug face.
"Get up."
The knight was impatient, staring at Kilian like he was something repulsive. Even when Kilian was finally standing, the eyes were scrutinizing Kilian's size and frame.
"At least you can be fodder for those beasts." The words were mumbledd but Kilian heard them clearly.
Kilian was then taken to a tent on the outskirts of the camp, which seemed neverending with tents in long rows, and campfires spread among them.
"This is where you will train, someone as scrawny as you can only be a scout with this lot."
Kilian knew he deserved more respect as a noble, even as the third son of a Count, but he didn't refute anything.
'For now, I just need to survive, til my Grandfather is able to resolve the situation.'
New clothes were thrown into his arms, and he looked around in the worn-out tent.
There were a couple of bunkbeds, crudely made with some thin coarse looking fabric as covers.
Even his old room in the Heathgrave mansion had been more accommodating.
"Who are you?"
An angry voice came up behind him, and his shoulder was pulled to turn him around.
Four other men around his age were staring at him while standing at the opening of the tent.
Kilian had been changing and was buttoning up the plain shirt he had been given, carefully taking his time while thinking of a way to respond.
"I am Kil, the new addition to this unit."
He then threw his old clothes on one of the empty-looking beds and turned as if him being there was the most natural thing.
"A scout."