Page 132 of Forcing Fate

A grunt was my General’s only reply. The Dragon Lord turned his back on General Rafe, offering me a wink. I glared and hoped that my General hurt him… just a little.

General Rafe was larger than the Dragon Lord in both height and girth. He wrapped his arm around his neck and hauled back. The Dragon Lord lifted his legs high and threw them down, resulting in his body weight dropping hard and fast. General Rafe was yanked into a doubled-over position. The Dragon Lord rolled in his grasp, jerking to the side, and squirmed out of the hold, freeing himself.

He looked at me and beamed, but that smile was short-lived. General Rafe tackled him, pinning him to the cold ground. I watched as he tried to free himself, to no avail.

“Rafe, really?” he sighed. He stopped his struggle, relaxing as he peered up at the General with an exasperated glower.

“Don’t tell me how to teach my soldiers,” he warned. “You order your little flies around all you want, but don’t think for one minute you can order my soldier around while I’m here.”

I crossed my arms against the sudden chill. Watching these two was a bit like witnessing boys fight in the barracks. I expected the bickering out of the young men who had not yet grown into themselves, but I didn’t expect it out of my General and the Dragon Lord.

“Yes, yes. The men are yours.” The Dragon Lord’s tone was that of an appeasing child to their irate mother.

“The soldiers, Ru. The soldiers are mine.”

The Dragon Lord squinted at him, noting the difference. “She’s not a soldier, Rafe. She never will be.”

“She’s mine.”

I shivered. That tone had my stomach twisting nervously. I told myself that the only claim that General Rafe had on me was that I was a soldier. He didn’t own my soul.

“Fine. Fine! She’s yours. Get off, you oaf.”

General Rafe slowly stood, followed by the Dragon Lord. He brushed off his backside and smirked at me. I held my glare but didn’t speak.

“Don’t think I won’t be asking after her, though.”

General Rafe stopped in his tracks while walking to the table.

“I think I could find something for her to do in the Dragon Corps. After all, she does have an aptitude concerning them.”

General Rafe didn’t turn to him like I expected. Instead, his dark gaze settled on me. I blinked, confused. Could the Dragon Lord get me transferred? I’d work with the dragons on the front lines? Did I want that? Would I be hauling dragon dung, or would I truly work with them?

As if he read my mind, a disapproving frown darkened his features. I took a deep breath and silenced my thoughts. He was right. For now, I was a soldier.

I was his.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Summer of Year 897

Time seemed to fly by, the seasons changing before I knew it. I heard nothing more concerning the Dragon Lord or why he’d come. Even Willhelm had no information to offer.

As the months passed, I grew more confident with my training, getting stronger and growing more capable. I wasn’t bulky like the men, but I built muscle in the right places. I could draw both long and short bows now, though I had to release my draw quickly to be somewhat accurate. Repetitive firing was my weakness in archery. When I handled a crossbow, my marksmanship was excellent. Otherwise, my ability was lacking.

In armed combat, I fared much worse. With a shortsword, I was a decent fighter, but if you added a shield, I simply didn’t know what to do with myself. I fought well in a group if we held a shield wall or advanced in unison. However, fighting solo, I barely held my own.

Horseback riding was one of my favorite tasks. I loved the beasts—riding was as close as I’d get to flying. As long as the horse wasn’t a giant, I could mount it myself using a fence post, hay bale, or even a bucket. I forced myself to do things alone. On the war front, there would be no one to help me. My horsemanship was exemplary, but I lacked the strength to carry a lance or spear and juggle it from side to side as needed on horseback. I couldn’t hold them in place long enough to damage whatever target I charged.

In endurance training, I also failed miserably. They packed us up with chainmail, plate armor, shield, sword, and a heavy pack filled with stones or whatever else they found to weigh us down. Then they sent us off to run the track. I never lasted as long as the others, even when I gave it my all. I dropped from a run to a walk, and then eventually my knees would buckle under the weight and I couldn’t rise.

Strength training… another disappointment. My body contorted in ways my fellow soldiers’ could not, but I was no match for their strength. I grew to love the obstacle course—I ran it faster than the others. My small stature and lighter weight gave me the advantage of agility. Alas, the obstacle course was not the only test of strength.

Failing in almost all my training, only one thing kept me somewhat motivated—I improved in hand-to-hand combat. General Rafe’s lessons paid off, and I began to look forward to my sessions with him.

I ached with exhaustion afterwards, and he offered no praise, yet I felt as though I accomplished something. My body began to act with its own reflexes. When he attacked, defending myself was pure instinct. I didn’t have to think about it. I couldn’t best him, and I doubted I ever would, but I still gave it my all.

Other than Niehm, Elenor, and Willhelm, we kept my training with General Rafe secret. For some reason, I didn’t like the idea of others finding out I trained with him. Perhaps I simply didn’t want to lose any advantage I’d have over any would-be attackers.

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