The fire started to grow from the messily embers it started out as. I sat down on the far side of it, opposite the two men that were still seated at the fire. I took a moment to breathe before glancing toward my companions.
Sir Golden Child sat next to young Lord Jacobson. I thought about Lord Jacobson's newest title. It did not sit well with me. He just seemed too innocent. From the look on his face, he was not enjoying the conversation with his counterpart.
I could not control the smirk that ran across my face. Someone else got a slice of piety and for once it was not me.
I looked at the fire. It reminded me of the harvest festival back home. People gathered to celebrate the growth of crops and community. Kinship and brotherhood were more than just words there. They were living breathing cornerstones of our lives.
Back when my father was alive, he would always make sure he was home from the capital. He would drink the first cup of whatever the celebratory punch was and give a recap of the year's successes.
Even though I was not as eloquent or as thoughtful in my attempts to do the same in honor of his memory, my clan always cheered and celebrated all the same.
Although this fire was warm and the company here was, for lack of a better word, plenty, the camaraderie here was simply out of duty and honor. Brotherhood can begin or end when adversity starts.
That thought made me somber. I had no idea if this mission would involve a fight or what might happen with this part of the Queen's plan. Hopefully we will all end this mission safely.
My thoughts were interrupted as Jacobson sat next to me with a soured expression. I saw Sir Gavin stand and respectfully dip his head before retrieving his bedroll. Only one more kid needed to go to bed, but it looked as though he might need a bedtime story to bouy his spirits.
"Something the matter?" I felt for the kid. I knew his uncle went to sleep when we first arrived and he seemed to be the boy's main guide through this experience. Seemed like he needed a friend. Or maybe a babysitter.
"Him!" Jacobson hurled the word at me, indicating the member of our party that just went to bed. Childish. He could not even give me a full response.
However, the gentleman in question left the same taste in my mouth. The pursuit of honor and justice seemed valiant but those ideas did not need to permeate every breath.
"Did he steal your desire for justice, truth and all that is noble?" I mocked, but something seemed to truly be bugging the lad. Lord Jacobson needed to talk this out. I internally sighed. Maybe if I let him tell me what's on his mind, he will give me some peace.
"Maybe," he said as he poked a stick into the fire looking for a distraction. "Why am I even here?"
The last question seemed to shock us both. I'm not sure he meant to ask it aloud. "Princess Alina trusts you. You're the head of the clan of Stag." Hopefully that instilled some confidence in this deflated boy.
"That's what I mean. I am not sure I was meant for this position," Lord Jacobson confided.
I stilled. I hoped he would not ask me any questions as to his qualifications. I thought he was too innocent to fully take on all the responsibilities he now had to complete. Luckily, the boy continued to relieve himself of his burdens.
"Sir Gavin asked me what it was like to be the youngest swordsman in history. He asked me if I ever felt so honored before. It is hard to feel much toward the position. How can I feel anything with my father gone?" He looked up from the fire, then his eyes widened. "I should not have said that."
I could see the panic set in. He thinks I judge him for missing a loved one. Some men would. Not me. He needs to grieve. If this is how he can gain some peace, I'll never betray his trust.
"You're stronger than you think," I offered.
He stood heading toward his bedroll. Retreat was always an option. See. He already knew more about being a Swordsman than most people do.
"And as for what you said, don't worry about it. What you said to me, I'll never tell."
And for a moment, brotherhood was tangible again.
My moments of peace were somehow always disrupted by my pesky little charges. Although they were now all tucked in their bedrolls, I could not stop thinking about them.
By the end of my watch, I had devised all sorts of scenarios in which I was freed from my babysitting responsibilities. I also thought of all sorts of ways I could make the youth watch each other instead of myself being in charge.
Finally I allowed Sir John to take over my post. My time of solitude was not as relaxing as I had hoped, but that did not stop it from being entertaining.
If I had to pair off the warriors right now, I find satisfaction in the idea of pairing Sir Balor with Sir Carrion. The unagreeable one might actually make it through the thick skull of the one who wouldn't listen. Although I suppose both those titles could apply to either man depending on the situation.
With the thought of those two men stuck together in combat against the enemy, I drifted off to sleep with a smile on my face and the days burdens far from my mind.