Kentraes stood at order waiting for Sir Lerae Sordin to give his command. The frail youth didn't know the first thing about war yet was placed in charge of Kentraes' and the other thousand men of the 5th Infantry.
Trae stifled a laugh watching the wiry figure emerge from the General's tent.
"At your leisure, men," said Lerae as he walked to the front of the group, plate armor clinking with every step.
Kentraes would kill to have plate armor instead of the worn-down mail he dawned.
"He's about to shit his pants isn't he Trae?" asked Tiernan.
"Without a doubt," replied Kentraes, "Well, still better than some pampered noble leading us like they would in the East."
"Yeah well, that pampered noble is gonna lead his cavalry right through our ranks if this boy commands us."
Tiernan was an oddity among the soldiers, he spoke with a lilt only heard by the great families of Velon-Ril but chose to move west and fight for the republic. More importantly, Kentraes had never met a man with greater instincts than Tiernan.
"You think we got a chance? Seriously," asked Kentraes.
"To win the battle? Of course." Tiernan replied.
"To survive, I meant."
"... "
"That bad?"
"This is war Trae, you know castles and cities aren't taken by men like us. We're bodies that act as decoys while the important people do the real fighting."
Kentraes knew it to be the truth, but it was still hard to accept. A part of him truly clung to the hope of the republic, a land of freedom and equality no longer under the oppressive shackles of monarchs or great families.
"Ahem, attention men! As you all know Velon-Ril is known to be the impenetrable stronghold of the tyrant Marikaedes Celeria, and yet it is that very city that we aim to take. How might we do this you ask?" shouted General Sordin.
"We will cut off their northern supply lines from Amalel and then work our way into the lowlands. We ride at dawn alongside the 4th and 9th infantry."
The men slowly dispersed after Lerae's speech, after promising to meet Tiernan in the mess hall later Kentraes retreated to his tent.
He shared the residence with a veteran soldier, Jorigal, they used to have a third but he was killed in a skirmish a few months back.
Grabbing his sword from the tent he walked over to a secluded clearing he had found when searching for a training spot. The other soldiers didn't see the point in training, after all, who would fight a battle and then go swing a sword in their time off?
Kentraes unsheathed his sword, it was a poorly crafted blade but he knew the blade was never as important as the wielder. Jorigal used to say that, back when he still spoke, he didn't say much more than a few words at a time anymore.
Kentraes brought the weapon up to a high stance, it was easily his favorite of the 7 Telin sword stances since it made use of his reach.
Swinging the sword he mimicked the techniques General Raedes had taught him. Raedes was more talented with the blade than any Kentraes had seen yet was stuck training the West's recruits.
When Kentraes was young he dreamed of being one of the king's ten swords, the greatest warriors in all of Telin. He thought if he trained every day perhaps even a commoner like him could win a spot amongst them at the coliseum.
While practicing Kentraes grew lost in the movements, falling into "the trance". It felt as though the whole world had decided to slow just for him. The trance had saved him during his first battle and was his most trusted ally ever since. He could feel himself sinking deeper into it until a voice woke him from his reverie.
"Kentraes!"
"Yes, Sir Sordin." he saluted.
"Apologies for disturbing your training but I require some of your time."
I don't think I've ever heard a general call my name in my two years of service, much less apologize to me.
"Of course Sir."
"You see," began Lerae as he led Kentraes back towards the camp. "I've been told you are among the best of the 5th infantry with the blade."
"Thank you, Sir," he replied.
"When the men set out tomorrow I will not ride with them. Commander Favilan and the rest of my retinue will lead while I ride South with a separate group toward Lavla. I would ask you to be part of this group."
A general leading a secret mission, Kentraes thought, must be something of the utmost importance.
Kentraes hesitated, looking at the general he saw a handsome face and light brown skin that had not seen true labor before the war. He knew the general was young but looking at the fear in his eyes Kentraes realized he could not be much older than his own 20 years.
"It would be my honor, Sir."
Lerae breathed a sigh of relief as though he couldn't have simply commanded Kentraes to join him.
"We will be moving with a small group of about two dozen. Meet in front of my quarters at Sunbreak."
"Yes, Sir," replied Kentraes.
Watching the general's figure slink off into the camp Kentraes couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had overcome him.
He sighed, guess there are worse causes to die for.