31. Sage

CHAPTER 31

Sage

We all sat on the bench, the nine fae sticking together at the end of our group, their gazes sliding over the humans, assessing us the same way the Lord Commander had and, of course, narrowing when they got to me. I didn't know if they knew what I'd done, but even if they didn't, I was the smallest of the group and looked about as much of a warrior as the two heavyset guys.

The three humans who looked like they knew how to fight sat at the other end of the table, and I took a spot between two men who didn't have weapons but might possibly be able to wield them and behind one of the larger guys, hoping that if the Lord Commander couldn't really see me, he'd stop glaring at me. That and hopefully I'd be able to stop staring at him, Talon, and Lord Quill.

"I'm Lord Commander Rider," he said, shifting so he could look at me. Swell. "You can call me Commander Rider, Lord Rider, or Lord Commander. This is Lord Talon, Captain of the Gold Tower, and Lord Quill, Captain of the White Tower."

"Only call me Lord when we're in the Gold Tower," Lord— or rather just Talon said. "I get enough stuffy nobleman talk there. I'd rather not have it here."

The men around me all nodded and some of the tension eased from the group. They still didn't know what to expect, but Talon asking them to be informal with him set a more relaxed tone, and I supposed if you were trying to build a brotherhood with strangers who had no choice being there, being less formal was an immediate way to start building trust. Talon taking away his title also took away a wall between him and the sacrifices and made him seem more approachable.

Lord Rider cleared his throat, drawing our attention back to him. "From this moment forward you're novices in the Black Guard. Who you were before you came to the Gray doesn't matter. Peasant or noble, human or fae, it doesn't matter. If you work hard, you'll be rewarded with better assignments, more lieu time, and extra bits. Slack off or screw up—" His gaze landed on me and his eyes narrowed "—and you'll lose lieu time, get extra duties, and be docked pay."

"We get paid?" The older of the two heavy-set men asked.

"Yes," Lord Talon said. "Ten bits a rotation which can be spent on clothing for your lieu time, things for your room, treats we don't make in the kitchen?—"

"Or women," one of the clearly skilled sacrifices said with a big grin, making the nine fae bristle. "My cousin said we take lieu time in Lehyrst and there's a brothel just for us."

"You're correct," Talon said, then he went on to explain how the Black Guard worked.

There were three shifts — which was why the bells came in sets of three. An early shift, where the first two bells were meals and get to work, and a late shift were the second two bells were meal and then get to work. Those shifts consisted of morning and afternoon duties with the evening off, while the third shift was at night where the meal breaks weren't scheduled like they were in the day. You were assigned a shift for a rotation, which consisted of eight to ten days of duties and anywhere from one to three lieu days and then your shift — and hence your duties — changed.

Because we were novices we were on a special shift where we were going to be turned into warriors. Of course, that didn't mean we'd been excluded from chores. Everyone, with the exception of the elite units, was given a chore, from washing clothes, to mending them, to working in the kitchen or cleaning the floors or the stables or the bathhouse.

"You fuck up, you end up mucking stalls or doing laundry," Rider growled, glaring at me, the look not going unnoticed by the other fae and the three skilled humans, "and you'll make a few senior guardsmen really happy because you'll be taking their shift."

"So do they get the time off?" one of the younger sacrifices asked.

"That or they get a less strenuous duty, like working for the cook, the quartermaster, the seneschal, or the healers," Talon replied.

Lord Rider then went on to explain how everyone had to have a weapon and had to wear it at all times. "The Guard is always ready to defend the Gates against the shadows. If the spell sealing the Shadow Gate ever fails, we may not get a warning and we must always be prepared. Even if you never become a great swordsman and end up mostly in a support role, you must be prepared to fight."

The fae and the five obviously skilled humans all nodded with grim understanding, while the two heavy-set sacrifices and half of the other humans all looked green at the prospect of fighting.

"All right," Lord Rider said. "Now who have we got? Stand when your name is called and speak up if you have a trade or skill that might be useful, combat experience, or magic."

Lord Quill pulled a piece of thin, fae paper from a pocket in his jerkin as if it wasn't an incredibly expensive thing that only the nobles in the capital could afford and started calling out names. Men acknowledged their names while the rest of us studied each other. Three of the nine fae said they had magic, which surprised me since I'd thought all fae had magic. But then, Payne had mentioned at the midday meal that he didn't have magic.

The oldest of the sacrifices was a smith, and the younger of the two heavyset men had been an apprentice chef in Vestas, the largest port city in Erellod. There was a hunter — he'd come with a long dagger and a bow and quiver — a few farmers and shopkeepers and traders, a priest of the Great Father who'd just taken his vows, and a sailor who looked almost as distressed as the smith because given the landscape of the Gray, there wasn't a significant body of water anywhere nearby.

The five humans who looked like they knew how to fight did know how to fight. Two of them were from the armies of two different noble families and the other three were essentially mercenaries. Essentially because they were from three of the families that trained their young men to take positions in the Black Guard, saving the sons of the most noble families in the Five Great Kingdoms from becoming sacrifices.

"We can fight with a variety of weapons on foot and from horseback," Mikel Wild said, gesturing to the other two men who'd been sitting with him. They were all big with broad shoulders and muscles honed from years of weapons training, although none of them were as big as the majority of the fae. "We've also been trained in military tactics and formations and have experience fighting together."

"Have you seen actual combat?" Lord Rider asked.

"Yes," Durand said. He was the smallest of the three which still made him almost a head taller than me with a chest almost twice as broad.

"What about you two?" Lord Rider asked, turning to the two soldiers.

"I was just a grunt," Ambrose said, his build similar to Durand's. "So, formations but not tactics and no experience fighting from horseback."

"Same here," the other soldier replied.

Lord Rider grunted and glanced at Quill who turned his attention to me, his emerald eyes capturing mine for a breathtaking moment.

I tried to meet his gaze and hold it without cringing. The aching need to fall into those bottomless green eyes and never return to the surface battled with the urge to look down and look small twisted my insides. A lady wasn't supposed to draw attention to herself, she was supposed to quietly be ready to please her lord, be graceful and proper and demure at all times. And not hold eye contact with a man, no matter how captivating he was.

"Sawyer Herstind," Lord Quill said, and I stood as a wave of murmurs swept through the group that made my stomach twist even tighter.

"Herstind March."

"He's a lord."

"Guess he couldn't buy his way out of being a sacrifice."

"Did you hear what he did last night?"

Swell. Somehow some of the novices already knew about my mistake. Of course, the fae were volunteers and probably had friends in the guard already, and the three from families who bred Guardsmen probably had brothers or cousins or some other family member already in the Guard. They'd all taken the midday meal in the great hall and just like I'd been the conversation this morning, I had no doubt I'd been the conversation this afternoon. Hell, even if I did keep my head down, I'd probably still be the conversation for the rest of this rotation.

"I have a bit of experience with a sword," I said, making Mikel snort.

"Look at him," Durand snickered. "He's one of those lords that spent all his time reading. Too good to even learn how to fight."

No, I spent it learning to fight in secret while cleaning floors and lugging water and struggling to learn the things I was supposed to learn like making lace and sewing embroidery and keeping my gaze down.

"Can you even hold a sword long enough to fight with it?" Ambrose asked.

Lord Rider shot him then Durand and Mikel dark glares and they all snapped their mouths shut.

"You're not a lord now," Lord Rider growled at me, "and we'll find out soon enough how much experience you have with a sword."