Page 50 of The King's Man
“There was something I wanted to talk to you about.”
I braced and took another mouthful of the gravy and meat to cover the immediate desire to swear. “What is it?”
“I thought… I thought it might help you to hear about the first time I ever realized I was mortal.”
I snorted weakly. “Trust me, Jann, I’m under no deceit. I know you bleed when you’re cut and—”
“No, no. Listen,” he said quietly, then leaned his elbows on the table and stopped eating, his fork tracing the air as he spoke.
“I was about twenty-eight, I think? Still not thirty in any case. Some friends and I decided to take an ill-advised trip to Kyrion Vale.”
“For what purpose?” I asked. Kyrion Vale was the nation of Centaurs whose borders hugged the southern reaches of the Raven Peaks, the deadly mountain range that separated the Nephilim’s Ebonreach from the rest of the continent. Legend said the mountain range would kill anyone or any creature attempting to traverse it on foot. Not because it was magical like our Shadows of Shade, but because the peaks were so high and so cold, no mortal could withstand the elements for the time it would take to pass through.
The Nephilim could fly over the peaks, and so only be subject to that intense environment for hours instead of days. At least, that’s what the rumors said. I’d never travelled far enough to know if it was true.
“I was trying to prove myself,” Jann said thoughtfully. “Our people value physical strength in our warriors over everything else. I told you that my friend was promoted ahead of me?”
I nodded.
Jann grimaced. “He’d taken a mission across the Peaks and proven himself when their camp was ambushed and their leader killed. My friend kept his head, pulled the others together and led the survivors safely out. I, too, wanted to be promoted. But inmy jealousy, I couldn’t see straight. I told myself that if I took the initiative, convinced my friends to follow me, and we located and killed a Centaur and returned with a trophy, my superiors would be impressed. I was a fool. These days, any Sargeant who pulled that kind of idiocyI’dcastrate,” he said, then took another bite, chewing it like it had angered him, before he spoke again. “But the reason that’s true,” he said quietly, “was that I learned my lesson the hard way. I almost died that day, and nearly got one of my friends killed as well. My two other friends had to carry our injured friend over the peaks to get us home. I barely made it—so in truth, I almost died twice. All because of my own pride.”
“Shocking,” I said sarcastically. It wasn’t hard to imagine the cocksure young Jann almost getting himself killed—more than once.
His eyes went flat. “Judge me if you will—I’m guessing you have some stories of your own, a young woman andsoldier,fighting to prove herself?” He arched one brow, but as I bristled, he continued so I wasn’t forced to admit he was right. “Here’s the thing, though, Diadre… I learned one important lesson that day. But as the days wore on I learned another that was even more critical.”
I cocked my head. I understood the lesson he learned. I’d learned it too—that we could be killed, and that some risks weren’t worth taking. But what else?
Jann took another bite, his eyes never leaving mine. “That was the beginning of my understanding that I was limited. That even with all my strength and confidence, I could be defeated. It is, I believe, a lesson every leader must learn before they reach heights, else they will lead their followers straight over a cliff.”
I nodded. We were agreed on that point.
“But secondly… the events of that day, which ended the career of my friend who almost died and lost three fingers so hecould no longer wield a weapon, taught me something far more important.”
“What was that?”
He dropped his chin and took another mouthful, his eyes almost wary as he watched me. I frowned. Did he think I would get angry? Why did he stare at me like that?
“I can tell you that the most terrifying moment of my life wasn’t the minutes when I looked death in the face—twice. It was afterwards… the hours and days after we’d safely returned and were healing. I had… fallen. In my own eyes, at least. And certainly in the eyes of my superiors. I had almost died. Almost gotten someone else killed needlessly—and all for the impatience of foolish ambition. I was on the path to lead. I would have achieved promotion with time, regardless. I wasstupidthat day. And afterwards… Not only did my superiors lose a level of trust in me, I found I no longer trusted myself.
“I began to doubt everything—my strength, my judgment, my ability to assess risk. All of it. I went from convinced I should have been promoted to Lieutenant, to convinced I shouldn’t even be a fighter.”
I gaped. Jann? The massive walking weapon? I’d seen him fight in battle. Watched himlaughin the face of one enemy, and slay countless others.
“That’s ridiculous,” I said.
He shook his head. “No, it was natural. I’d taken a deep blow. My mortalityandmy weakness were demonstrated to me in meaningful ways. It wasrightto ask myself the questions. But luckily I had leaders around me with experience and insight. They saw me waver, and they addressed it with me immediately.
“They wouldn’t accept my excuses to avoid training. They didn’t allow me to step down from my responsibilities. Theyforcedme to stand in the face of my own self-doubt and prove to themand to methat that’s all it was: Doubt.”
I think I was more surprised that the Nephilim had healthy leadership than I was that Jann had come out of his doubt. I frowned. “That’s… good?” But why was he telling me this? What did he think I—
I went very still as it hit me.
Self-doubt in leadership. Risk aversion. Lack of confidence.
He thought… he thought my situationcompared?
I wanted to swell. I wanted to slap him. I wanted to strip his flesh from his bones and dance on them. I threw down my fork and stood up, bracing on that table.
