Page 74 of Shadows of Winter

“Ever?”

Vlerion looked like he badly wanted to say no again, but he sighed. “He’ll probably insist.”

Something to look forward to then.

“Normally, we would start off with strength and endurance training, but Doc Penderbrock said to give your leg more time to recover.”

“I like him.”

“We all do.”

“Because he gives out good drugs?”

“Among other reasons.” Vlerion looked down. “How is your leg?”

“If I say it aches horribly and green pus is constantly oozing from it, will you let me go back to the castle to start a new batch of mead?”

“You’re going to be a difficult student, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but you’re going to be a loathsome teacher, so it’ll work out.”

“Or we’ll kill each other.” He smiled.

She didn’t. She had no doubt he could kill her but highly doubted the reverse would be true.

“Come.” Vlerion led her toward the far side of the courtyard where men grappled with each other in a sandy pit. “We’ll work on balance, and I’ll educate you on the various threats you’ll face as a ranger. Ten years ago, most of them came from our borders. These days, as you saw in the catacombs, we must also be prepared to respond to threats within our cities. Our forces are spread thin.”

“Is that why commoners, including snarky women from the far southern end of the kingdom, are being recruited?”

“You are a special case, but it is why commoners who’ve proven themselves loyal and exceptional have been allowed in, yes. It’s an opportunity for them too. If Jankarr, for example, survives his full twenty-five years and retires with honor, he’ll receive a parcel of land and a title.”

“The king is okay with turning commoners into nobles?”

“The program was his idea, back when he was a little more…” Vlerion waved his hand vaguely toward the sky.

“Little more what?” Kaylina hadn’t heard from the newspapers or gossip in the Spitting Gull that there was anything wrong with King Gavatorin, but the islands were far removed from the capital, and a lot of people didn’t care much about the king or the kingdom as a whole. The fierce patriotism present in the north wasn’t found as frequently in those parts of the nation more recently annexed or conquered.

“He’s getting older,” Vlerion said, then added in a quieter tone, “and less sharp.”

“That happens to people.”

Not her grandparents though. Thankfully, they were still in full command of their faculties. Mother, on the other hand… Well, the tarmav weed was her problem.

“Yes.”

Vlerion led her through a wide open-sky corridor toward another large courtyard. Barracks, an armory, and an eating hall surrounded it, all with windows looking out on arenas, a track, and stations filled with training equipment. A few men were using the various apparatuses.

Vlerion led Kaylina to an aboveground pool with a long log mounted on a spindle above it, the bark peeled away. “Remove your boots and whatever else you like.”

Whatever else she liked? In front of witnesses?

He tugged off his own boots, removed his socks, then pulled his black tunic over his head, tossing it onto a rack.

Kaylina stared at his lean ropy muscles, each one fully delineated, the dusting of red-brown hair on his chest doing nothing to soften his body. He looked a lot different from Domas—from most of the men back home that she’d seen shirtless. Of course she’d expected Vlerion to be fit, but even before he grabbed a staff and swung it in a few warm-up exercises, she was mesmerized. Scar tissue rose in several places, wounds that, like the ones on his head, had come from claws or fangs rather than blades. How many great beasts had he battled in his life? He wasn’t that much older than she.

“You’ll get wet,” Vlerion told her, catching her looking.

“What?” she blurted, jerking her gaze away.

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