Chapter 1

The camp was always crowded with a hundred men and women.Each attending training or meditation, bustling to and from the blacksmith,food huts,sleeping tents. He could never remember feeling claustrophobic or as if needed more space. But now as the bodies of the soldiers pressed into a tight circle around him and the man standing across from him he felt the air pressing out of his lungs, the heat from their bodies threatening to suffocate him, and their intense quiet unnerving him. They all waited to see what would happen next. He stood in nothing but black trousers armed with only a training rod. While the man across from him posed proudly, legs spread apart in black leather boots and loose gray tunic tucked into his trousers, his beard groomed perfectly, his dreadlocks tied neatly in the back. At his side a gleaming silver sword, a black star sapphire set in the pommel that flashed a blinding light when wielded in the sun. He looked, Dechen realized every bit the royal advisor. Clean, poised, powerful.

"It's time," Ruslan said.

"I'm not leaving," he replied

"Dechen we had an agreement. One year and then you would come home fulfill your duty to her. To your country,"

"I changed my mind," he spread his feet wider apart.

Ruslan raised a dark eyebrow, "Unacceptable." He reached out his hand without hesitation a soldier put a another training rod in his hand, "Let me put this in words you'll understand, you'll come with me or be exiled and dishonor your whole bloodline. Your father's honor."

"I'll bring honor to my father by planting my feet firmly," Dechen said.

"We'll see how firmly you stand,"

Ruslan lunged at Dechen bringing his rod down in a powerful arch over his head. Dechen swung at his open ribs, only to be blocked by Ruslan. Dechen tok a step back, trying to put some distance between him and the other man. Ruslan prowled toward him, relentless. His staff held across his chest ready to strike. Dechen circled him, then swept low aiming for his ankles. Ruslan was faster and brought the staff down hard across his shoulder kncoking Dechen off balance, pain shooting across his spine. He rolled away back onto his feet forcing himself to breathe. Ruslan didn't give him the chance to recover and came at him with a fast series of blows, each one aiming for weak spots, his knees, his throat, even his elbows, each one landing with speed and precision. Ruslan let up for a moment and began circling Dechen. Dechen had had enough, sweat trickled down the back of his neck. His feet were slick against the grass, and each breath burned. In one swift motion he brought his rod acorss his knee breaking it in two with one weapon now in each hand Dechen charged Ruslan, he lept and brought one rod down against Ruslans staff while the other hand came up jabbing for Ruslan's stomach. Ruslan was faster and twisted his staff so that he knocked the top of the wrist aimed for his stomach. The pain shot up Dechen's arm and forced him to drop his weapon. Ruslan brought the staff up swiftly knocking the other half of Dechens staff free it went flying into the grass several feet away. Before Dechen could catch a breath Ruslan swiped at his ribs, unable to block Dechen took the full force of the blow. He sank to his knees hands wrapping around his middle, his lungs burning.

Ruslans shadow cast over him for a moment before the other man crouched next to him.

"You will come home. Not because I asked for it but because she did,"

Ruslan reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a letter. Slowly he opened it and dropped it in the grass so Dechen could read it. There in her delicate handwriting was a summons for him to come back to her side. It was time for him to fulfill his duty.