Warrior's Heart (Book 1 of The Warrior Chronicles)

Chapter 31

"Was she in the stables?" Michael asked in Asch when Leyla settled back in her seat a few moments later. Three young women had moved to within talking distance from their table and were now giving her annoyed looks.

"No." Leyla replied, not at all surprised that Michael had figured out what she was up to even. Aside from perfect memory, he had an incredible reasoning ability. Unfortunately, he was also a big busy body, which meant she would have to change the topic, quickly. "It seems, you have found yourself some friends."

He followed her gaze to the women, who were holding their handkerchiefs to their lips and giggling. His blue eyes alight with mischief, Michael shrugged, "You left me all alone, and it turns out most Warrior women are quite friendly."

Was he saying she wasn't? Leyla was stopped from making a response when four Shadows appeared in their dark uniforms, the King and Princess Mira close behind them.

The Warrior King looked straight ahead, the short gold cape over his shoulders, fluttering as he moved to the top end of the chamber where the royal tables were arranged in a semi-circle. He took the seat decorated with silver swords, then motioned for Mira to sit beside him. The Warrior generals sat next, to the left and right of the King. Next it was their turn; the visitors from the Land of Light had been placed at the royal's tables beside the generals which was a testament of their importance.

Once the royals had taken their seats, the rest of the guests, lesser nobles and mid to high-ranking officers, moved to the other end of the chamber where communal seating had been prepared.

The King raised his cup.

"Today we have special guests from the Land of Light who have come to help us oversee the planting of our fruit trees," he held his cup out towards them, his dull eyes crinkling at the edges as he spoke. "Let us welcome them to our Kingdom!"

"Welcome!" Echoed across the hall as everyone raised their glasses towards the King, then drank. Leyla followed suit, watching the most powerful man in the room over the rim of her glass. A few years ago she would not have hesitated to go to battle and die for him.. He caught her eye, the deep grooves on his face stark as he smiled. He did not recognise her. Leyla lowered her eyes, feeling strangely empty.

She felt connected still, to the recruits she had trained, to her fellow officers, to this place she had considered home, but somewhere along the way, her will to live and die for the Warrior King had disappeared. It was as if it had been wiped away during her time on Asch. Or perhaps it had faded the night he had her whipped in this very hall, just to save his daughter humiliation.

"Bring out the food! Let the entertainment begin!" The King proclaimed, not looking half as energetic as his voice suggested. Was he unwell?

Servants carrying trays laden with food appeared on cue. They began to dish out rich foods made with rare Greenland spices while a group of fourth year recruits performed a sword dance.

"It's quite entertaining," Michael commented while watching the blades swing, dip and rise in unison. "Although the steps are far less complicated than the one you are forever practicing."

For all that he did not know a thing about wielding a weapon, Leyla had no doubt at all that Michael knew the 63-steps by heart.

"It's not the complexity of the steps that is important," Leyla explained, watching the recruits. "It's the precision and perfection of the execution."

"None of them will ever be as precise as you," Michael grinned with pride. He really was foolish and Leyla was about to tell him so when a figure stepped into the room and drew everyone's attention.