Page 21 of The Missing Sentinel
Determined not to be a pest in Adney’s household so he wouldn’t annoy Drexley, Ducarius kept silent as Adney muttered more complaints. The necromancer ate every bite of food on his plate despite his assertion that it was hopelessly burned. Ducarius disagreed and found the meal fine. It was not up to the fare of Victor or the other culinary geniuses Ducarius knew, but how could it be? People like Victor were rare gifts.
Somehow, Drexley remained unphased by the grumpy necromancer and convinced Adney to go to his room to rest. One thing Ducarius was learning about Drexley was that the sentinel appeared to have infinite patience. It would be a skill Drexley would need in the future to survive Baxter’s terrible jokes.
Once Adney had hobbled out in a huff, Drexley turned to Ducarius and smiled. Ducarius grinned immediately. His mate was a handsome man, and Ducarius preferred when there was happiness on his face.
“I hope you are not getting the wrong impression of Adney. He is a wise and kind man, but his growing limitations are frustrating him,” Drexley said. “Did you sleep well?”
“No, and I blame you.”
Drexley blinked. “Me?”
Although it was tempting to comment on the quick jerkoff session Ducarius had required after being with Drexley, neither of them were ready for a conversation about sex yet. “Yes, you sent me off to bed with a book. I made the mistake of opening it and lost many hours of rest.”
With his grin back in place, Drexley leaned forward and set his fork down. “You are enjoying it?”
“It is a wonderful tale. I plan to read further as soon as I train.”
“Is that necessary?”
“Yes, it is necessary. How else will I know how the story ends?”
“No, that is not what I meant. You are here, and there are no threats around. Why do you need to train?”
“I do not think of it as a necessity,” Ducarius replied. “It is something I do because I enjoy it. The exercise also allows me to clear my head. I can often release my frustration, fear, or other emotions plaguing me by pushing myself physically. It is also fun to pit myself against my family or friends. Finding new ways to attack keeps my mind fresh.”
“You truly enjoy it?”
“Absolutely. Do you recall the last time you trained?” Ducarius asked, wondering how much of Drexley’s early memories of the realm existed. Was Drexley aware that his mind was being manipulated, or had he consented to Adney’s draining spell?
“No,” Drexley replied.
“How do you feel about that?”
Drexley cocked his head. “I find that a strange question. Why would I have feelings about something I cannot recall?”
“How much about the compound do you remember?”
“You are answering a question with a question.”
“I know,” Ducarius drawled. Whether Drexley was aware of it or not, he was acting like every other sentinel with his need to point out the truth. “We met a few days ago, and I am eager to learn more about you. How can I know something if I do not ask?”
“Yes, but you know I have no wish to train and have left it behind because it is barbaric and ungentlemanly. So, why would I want to recall the last time I engaged in the practice?”
“I would assume nothing of you, Drexley.”
“You are confusing me.”
“Frankly, I am confusing myself right now.”
“Does every sentinel still train?” Drexley asked.
Ducarius nodded. “Yes. We even teach other races to use weapons. It is also part of the curriculum of the fallen knights, though it is not added into any of their scores. Their superiors want them to have every advantage without feeling pressured to match the skill of anyone else since sentinels are innately better at it.”
“It has spread beyond the sentinels?” Drexley asked incredulously.
“We teach it; nothing is spreading like a sickness.”
“Does every sentinel wear an ugly gray uniform like you?”
