Paragon of Destruction

"I’ll bet you a gold that he doesn’t last another exchange," the woman next to Arran said, a bored expression on her face and a mug of ale in her hand.

Arran narrowed his eyes as he looked at the two fighters. A moment later, he shook his head. "That’s a sucker’s bet. You’re not taking my gold this time."

A week had passed since he’d arrived in the camp and joined the Wolfsblood Company, and he’d already lost a small fortune in gold betting on Kalesh’s fights.

The captain took it upon himself to test each new Body Refiner who entered the camp, and Arran had soon discovered that the man never won. No matter how weak his opponent, he’d drive them to their limit, then suddenly concede the fight in a dramatic fashion.

Yet while the outcome was set from the start, there was plenty of betting about how long each fight would take. And as Arran had learned, the woman next to him — Lasha — had an almost preternatural gift for predicting the captain’s actions.

But then, she’d had plenty of opportunity to learn. Lasha was one of the Wolfsblood Company’s three commanders, with the other two being a cheerful giant named Gar and a staid middle-aged man named Sassun.

Arran had already sparred against all three of them, and he’d found that each was a powerful Body Refiner — though they were still far behind their captain.

"Any idea when we’re getting out of here?" he asked Lasha, eyes fixed on Captain Kalesh while the man predictably allowed himself to be defeated by his nonplussed opponent.

"Should be today," she replied. She took another swig of ale, and continued, "If the captain is right, at least. And he usually is."

This was something Arran had already discovered. For all his theatrical swagger, Captain Kaleesh was almost frighteningly well-informed. And while his men mocked him relentlessly, they obeyed his orders without question or objection.

The captain handed his opponent his winnings — a single piece of gold, more for the young man’s efforts than for his performance — then gave him a graceful bow. Apparently, he’d decided the young man lacked the strength to join the Wolfsblood Company.

He spent some moments putting his shirt and jacket back on, and some more moments fiddling with his hat. Then, satisfied with his outfit, he turned his attention to the group of mercenaries.

"Lasha, please be so kind as to join me. Sassun, you too." He briefly looked around the crowd, a frown on his face. Then, in a loud voice, he called out, "Gar, you big ox! Get out of bed! There’s work to do!"

"Coming," a muffled voice sounded from one of the tents.

As the three waited for Gar to make his appearance, Captain Kaleesh turned his attention to Arran. "Arran, get over here. You’re coming with us."

Arran got to his feet and joined the small group, curious to see what the captain had planned. After a week of nothing but sitting around and twiddling his thumbs, he was eager for a change.

Gar emerged from his tent moments later. Seven feet tall, with shoulders like boulders and a neck as thick as Arran’s waist, he looked like he might be distantly related to Elder Naran.

"What’s this about, then?" he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he faced Captain Kaleesh.

"The first representatives of the noble houses should arrive any moment now," the captain replied. "And the five of us are going to take a look."

"You’re taking the newcomer?" Gar asked, a curious eye on Arran.

"He’s gotta start training your replacement at some point," Lasha interjected. "Only a matter of time before your ox-headed self gets run through by some soldier."

The giant man shot her a vaguely annoyed glare, but he didn’t say anything. Size notwithstanding, she was easily the stronger of the two — though not as strong as Sassun, whose expressionless face concealed a strength that had surprised even Arran.

Captain Kaleesh ignored the bickering. "Gar, put those muscles of yours to use and carry a barrel of ale along for us." He frowned. "Better yet, make that two. The day is young, and we have several hours of waiting ahead of us."

Gar grumbled, but he did as the captain said, picking up two large barrels of ale which he balanced on his shoulders.

"Now then," Captain Kaleesh said. "Let’s be off. There’s a show ahead, and I would not gladly miss it."

He set off toward the edge of the camp without any further explanation, Arran and the three commanders following behind him.

They met the camp’s boundary shortly after, and the captain crossed it casually, then began to head toward a hill a few hundred paces in the distance. When they reached the hilltop, Captain Kaleesh laid down his jacket, then sat down upon it.

"Take a seat," he said to the others. "And have a drink or two. What you’re about to witness will be most instructive."

Arran did as he said, though not without noticing that the guards in the distance were casting nervous looks at them.

A quarter-hour passed without anything of note happening, with the captain talking about all manner of things — except the reason he had brought them there.

But then, a group of about fifty guards emerged from the camp, led by the woman who’d welcomed Arran’s group to the camp. And nervous though their expressions might be, they headed toward Arran’s small group at a firm pace.

Yet the captain seemed unconcerned, and when the group of guards reached them, he greeted their leader with a friendly wave.

"How nice of you to join us!" he called out. "Would you perhaps care for a drink?"

The woman gave him a flat stare. "You can’t be here. Not today."

"But, my dear lady, I already am here," Captain Kaleesh replied. "And you’ll find me quite difficult to remove."

Though his voice was friendly, it held a subtle undertone of threat, as if he was warning the woman to stand down.

The guardswoman seemed to pick up on his meaning, and for nearly a minute, she stood silently, worry written plain across her face. Finally, in a pleading tone, she said, "Please, don’t cause any trouble. Not today."

"Cause trouble? Me?" The captain flashed her a bright smile that was not the least bit reassuring. "I wouldn’t dream of it. We’re merely here to enjoy the view — it wouldn’t do to waste such a pleasant day."

The day was indeed a pleasant one, with the sky clear and the warm sun shining down upon the land around them. Yet Arran did not see a view worth mentioning — the only things before them were the camp and a large stretch of empty grasslands.

The woman hesitated in answering, but then, she sighed. "Just don’t cause trouble," she said in a weary voice. "Please."

As the group of guards left again, Arran cast a look at the captain. "So what are we waiting for?"

"Patience, my friend," the man replied. "You’ll see soon enough."

Half an hour passed without anything happening, with Arran and the others drinking ale as they waited for whatever it was that the captain expected.

But then, in the distance, Arran saw a column of people approach. Dressed in white uniforms, there were roughly two hundred of them, and they carried a large black banner that held a solitary silver star.

"You can always count at the church to arrive on time," Captain Kaleesh said in a cheerful voice. "Perhaps we should consider joining them? Sassun, with that dour face of yours, I imagine you’d be a perfect priest."

Sassun said nothing, though he gave the captain a dark look, which the captain answered with a bright smile.

"But no," Captain Kaleesh continued a moment later. "The church is here to find young acolytes, gentle of mind and disposition. A bad fit for our men, alas. But let’s see who else arrives."

Arran had little doubt that the captain knew exactly what other groups had yet to arrive, but it seemed the man enjoyed leaving his commanders in the dark.

For another quarter-hour, they watched as the group set up camp, erecting several large tents that were as white as their uniforms. But then, the captain called out, "Aha! Another group approaches!"

Indeed, as Arran looked in the distance, he saw another, smaller group approach. Unlike the first group, they wore no clear uniform, looking more like merchants and townsfolk than priests or soldiers.

"One of the crafters’ guilds," Captain Kaleesh explained. "Here to poach the craftsmen among the borderlanders, no doubt. But alas, I’ve never had much talent for knitting or woodworking." He frowned, then added, "Though I could do with a new set of clothes. Perhaps we should pay them a visit later?"

Over the next hour, several other groups arrived, all of them crafters’ guilds according to the captain. And as the groups set up camp, Arran and the others drank mug after mug of ale, still waiting for whatever it was the captain expected to happen.

But then, yet another group came into sight. Larger than the previous groups, Arran could see even at a distance that the group was mostly composed of soldiers, all of them armed and armored. And they carried a large, red banner, with a white sign shaped like an eagle.

"There they are!" Captain Kaleesh said when he saw them. "Lord Kadun’s troops — our allies, for the next few months. Come, let’s give them a good welcome."

At once, he stood up and began to head toward the troop of soldiers at a casual, swaggering pace. And behind him, Arran and the three commanders followed, albeit with some hesitation in their step.

Yet Arran wasn’t too concerned. While he could Sense several pieces of starmetal among the group they were approaching, there was no sign of Living Shadow.

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