Page 26 of Winds of Destiny

It doesn’t take a genius to see that that’s largely down to Camrael—he’s decided to ignore his own bodyguard. While I’m not about to judge him for that, the fact that he’s comfortable being dismissive makes my men feel bolder about trying out that tactic, too. It doesn’t help that Lord Turo seems to be a reticent man by nature; he spends every morning surveying the grasslands for any dangers and barely says more than two words together for the rest of the day once he’s back. I’ve tried to draw him into conversation, but he’s not giving me much to work with.

I can’t blame him. I’m literally sharing a bed with the man he loves. That’s where all this stems from—hurt feelings that run deeper in both Camrael and Turo than either of them wants to admit.

If he won’t work with me, and Camrael won’t work with him, then Lord Turo has set himself up for trouble with my men. I won’t intervene and undermine his abilities, though. He’s got to determine what he will and won’t tolerate from everyone who isn’t Camrael and act accordingly. I have no doubt Turo can fight his own battles.

I’m actually looking forward to seeing it.

Rusen is the one who pushes it, because of course he is. My second-in-command is a good soldier and I trust him to do what’s right for our people, but he’s never met a bear he didn’t want to poke with a stick. Now that Camrael has shown he’s more than capable of sticking up for himself, Rusen’s attention has turned back to Turo. He’s been nagging at him for the past three days, picking at everything from the time Turo spends looking for trouble “that isn’t even there!” to the way he wears his sword, “across your back like you’ve got all the time in the world to draw it instead of being ready for anactualattack.”

Tonight, with the clouds in the sky a brilliant orange-red and the heat from the day making all of us sweaty and uncomfortable, it seems like Turo has finally reached his limit. “Draw your sword,” he says to Rusen, interrupting the man’s flow of criticism.

Rusen blinks. “What?”

“Your sword,” Turo drawls. “Pull it out.”

“Why?”

“You’ve got a lot to say about the way I handle myself, but for all I know you’re as good at swordplay as one of your sheep.” A few of the other men laugh. “So draw it and let’s have a friendly bout to see if you’re as good as you say you are.”

Rusen looks pleased that his prodding has finally landed a result. “You won’t find me so easy to handle with a proper sword in my hand as you did before,” he says as he stands up, flexing his shoulders in an effort at intimidation. Rusen has at least five inches on Turo and probably fifty pounds. I’ve seen Turo handle him once, though.

I wonder how he’ll do it this time.

I glance at Camrael, just to check and see if he’s discomfited by this. Turo is here for him, after all, not to provide amusement for my men.

Camrael looks utterly unconcerned, scraping up the last of his dinner with the traveler’s bread before taking a long drink of water. If anything, he seems slightly amused by it all.

“You’re all right with this?” I ask quietly.

“More than,” he says. “Turo needs an outlet for his pent-up aggression. It’s nice of Rusen to offer himself up so freely.”

“An outlet?”

Camrael nudges me with his shoulder. “Watch,” he says with a smile. I turn and watch just in time to see Rusen go for his sword. A second later, he’s swearing and rubbing at his hand.

“What the fuck?” he exclaims. “What did you throw at me?”

Turo shrugs. “Just a little pebble. Why didn’t you draw your sword?”

“Because you’re throwing shit at me!”

“Are you honestly saying that apebbleis enough to keep you from drawing your sword?” Turo smiles thinly. This level of confidence on him is new to me, and it’s… Well, I can see why Camrael is attracted to him, that’s all.

Rusen snorts and reaches for his sword again. He gets his hand around the hilt before—“Ow!”

“It was a shell that time,” Turo informs him. “Why haven’t you drawn your sword?”

“Draw yours first, you bastard!” Rusen snaps.

“All right.” Turo stands up and reaches for his back. As he does, Rusen charges, ignoring his sword completely in favor of simply getting his hands on Turo and dealing damage that way. It’s one of his favorite tactics, and he’s surprisingly fast for such a big man. I’m half ready to get to my feet when—

“Fuck!” I don’t quite see how it happens, but Rusen staggers and falls to the ground before he even reaches Turo, who then draws his sword in a leisurely manner and holds the edge of it to Rusen’s throat. Rusen rubs his hand on the spot right between his eyes. “What the hell did you hit me with?”

“My bread crust.”

Deran breaks out laughing. “Bread! Felled bybread!Oh, I can’t wait to tell Liese about how her mighty husband was taken down by a piece of bread.”

“Don’t talk to my wife,” Rusen says sullenly, staring at the edge of Turo’s sword like it’s offended him.

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