She Attracted Her Lord's Attention

Dane rolled his eyes. “There’s about fifty give or take. They’re not marching in their lines so it was hard to get a head count. Dane had his face perfectly painted. However walking around the camps the other mancers had found it unnerving, which of course was the idea of the war paint.

Dane nodded and thought for a minute. Five or six might not be enough to fight fifty men. “I think that should be fine.” Dane didn’t sound overly confident. “I’ll take the bulk of the group.” Dane said trying to figure out the best strategy. He pulled his khopesh’s out of their sheaths. The twins had been gifts from Dane’s father and they’d accompanied him in to every fight his spear had not.   “I’ll only be able to keep the protection up while you’re summoning if I’m going to take the bulk of the knights.” Dane couldn’t be both protective and destructive at the same time. 

Lena frowned lightly. Fifty were a bit too much then she could handle. Maybe she should give a little boost and try to summon more spirits. But then she would be too weak to fight off the enemy herself. Shaking her head she dismissed the thought going back to concentrating on summoning the spirits around her. 

Putting in a little more of her power, and feeling her body drain with the strain of it, she grimaced slightly, but maintained her posture, nit wanting to appear weak in front of her companion.

She merely nodded at his suggestion. “Thats alright. I’ll be controlling the spirits and fighting at the same time.” That had come with practice but was by no means easy. Keeping a grip on the spirits as well as her surroundings. Rather tricky. But not impossible. Unsheathing her own sword she held it up in front of her before releasing a breath and opening her eyes to see about eight spirits standing in front of her.

Misha inclined her head. “I couldn’t sleep,” she confessed. “And better to get some air than to lay awake in bed for hours, is it not?” A hesitant, tired smile graced her lips briefly, but then she relaxed a little. “And yourself?” she asked in a cordial voice. Gesturing to the sword at the woman’s side, she inquired, “Do you intend to practice, or is it merely a habit to go armed? I know many of the Mancers do, even those with strong magics,” she said by way of making conversation.

Lena nodded in understanding as well as agreement. “It is. Sometimes I feel if I don’t get up I’ll wake everyone up with my tossing and turning.” She gave a small smile at the amount of times she had woken up her companions with her restlessness. The young Mancer glanced down at her sword, before shaking her head. “A habit.” She replied shortly. “You pick it up after years of training and staying alert for most of your life.” She continued, recalling how many times the sword had aided her. “We can’t always rely on magic. Magic can fail us, our skills and strength cannot.”

Dane stood in the highest part of a tree looking out over the defence line. He could see the fires of the Knights camps from up here and he could see the approaching knights was marching towards them.  “They’re only a league away.” Dane called down to her. He climbed down the tree as quickly as he could. 

Although Dane would have preferred to be stationed in the main battle field just casually killing knights. He was used to responsibility but manning the defence line was not normally the kind of responsibility he was  used to.  “They should be here with in the hour. Is that enough time for you to do the thing?” he asked curiously.

“How many are there? I need to know the exact number before I start summoning.” She hoped there were not as many. Not because they couldn’t fight. No matter what the number she knew the two of them would be able to fight well, but it would depend on the number of spirits she would summon how tired she would get.

Lena opened an eye to look at him. “That thing is called summoning spirits.” She barked at him slightly touchy about how he called her magic ‘Thing’. Her head gave the slightest of shakes. “Yes, I will be able to assemble five or six spirits though it will take me only a few minutes to summon them. Will that be enough?”

Truly, you are a woman after my own heart. And surprisingly, unlike anyone else who has the same priorities as me, you’re not being used as a cautionary tale – how do you manage to become a Group Leader and still be fun? Loriente managed it too, somehow.

Oh, fear not, I will. I will.

And of course it is. What are wealth, fame, glory, or living to an old age if no one else appreciates you?

Its a talent I suppose. Many people have said that to me before. By having the ability, talent and patience to handle some crazy people. Its not an easy job I can tell you that.

Good luck with that then.

I mean I’d pay good money to see Benji Hannai try and turn a dragon upside-down. That sounds like quality entertainment for a Friday evening, right there.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you to positively swoon when I walked into a room, Group Leader. But don’t go thinking you’re something special—I’d want the same from anyone. It’s one of my life’s goals.

I don’t think that would be a good idea. But as long as I get to see who gets into trouble then I don’t care.

Turning to Lena, he made the words sound light in his own head, fearing more disastrous thoughts would follow. ‘If we win I bet I will be described as rather handsome. I am hoping for a bit more charm, and some muscle,’ he said to Lena. His turn of voice indicating he was looking forward to it. Not the stories, but the end of the war. He somehow always felt like he would be there to see it end. As if starting it gave him that right. 

Her simple answer was just as he had expected it, Lena did whatever she needed with the ease of a sharp blade, her individual was unlike most others, she had a certain calm. ‘I wouldn’t call you all commoners,’ he replied, a certain amusement played along his sly eyes. ‘But from stories I always thought this was the place to be, it’s a bit disappointing.’ 

“And what better people to exaggerate then soldiers.“ She took another sip from her flask, smacking her lips at the taste. “When this war ends those soldiers will make a mighty fine penny with the way they tell some of their stories.” She snorted lightly under her breath. “They can make a small insignificant paper cut seem like a wound inflicted form a sword.”

He finished his short study of the person seated next to him by focussing on her face. For that he needed only to turn his head slightly, the dark brown hair, more of a teen face than that of a grown woman, though her eyes spoke a different story. The intelligence and minor cruelty were seen in a single gaze, but at the same time worry and kindness. 

‘Lena, what an odd place to find you at,’ he said, hoping to gain her attention. 

Incoherent thought bounced around in her head, her movements involuntary as she ate and drank. Her routine was broken when she heard a very familiar voice speak up next to her. The young woman turned to the man sitting next to her. “I could say the same for you Sir. Its not everyday you find the big boss himself among the commoners.”