Chapter 9

It was quiet long after she left. Markos followed her and they talked for a few moments. Lamar didn't have to listen to know what they were talking about, especially when he saw the captain get down on one knee in front of her. Markos failed to protect her, his only job, and he was offering his life to her. She made him stand back up and talked to him, both her hands on his shoulders. Lamar quickly looked away before any of them noticed he was watching them.

Aside from a lot of side glances the other Levantians ignored him for now, which was absolutely fine by him. He was worried that the princess' words would make them hate him even more, but it seemed that they were afraid to be around him now.

Markos didn't return in a very good mood. "Don't you fuckers have anything to do? Set up the camp. I and our esteemed Orellian guest will take the first watch. The rest of you shut up and sleep."

Lamar set up his small tent and took care of his horse. The camp quickly grew quiet, the men were tired from everything that happened that day. The Orellian captain joined his Levantian counterpart in front of the small farmhouse where the princess slept. The family that inhabited it moved to the barn for the night.

The silence was quite uncomfortable and Lamar decided to break it. "Look, I…"

"Just shut up." Markos was clearly not in a conversational mood.

Lamar raised his eyebrows. At least he tried. "Yes, sir." It still felt incredibly annoying to be put under someone else's command, but he understood why the princess did it. He couldn't exactly exist here outside the chain of command. And, as a foreigner, he couldn't be on the top of it.

A sudden noise made the men turn their heads and listen quietly, but it was just a cat, carrying a dead mouse in its mouth. Lamar took a few steps along the yard, tripping over a forgotten pitchfork.

Markos grabbed his arm before he could fall down. "Why don't you go stand somewhere where you won't hurt your precious Orellian body?" he hissed angrily.

"You know, me being here was really not my idea."

The Levantian scoffed. "And yet here you are."

"What the fuck was I supposed to do?" Lamar was quite tired of his pointless accusations. "I can't disobey my king any more than you can disobey your princess." He was half a mind to mock him by saying 'our king', but he didn't really need to antagonize Markos even more.

Markos was silent for a while, he couldn't say much to that because he knew Lamar was right. "So is it better than being dead?" He spoke quietly, watching the treeline. "Being Orellian?"

"I can't really say, I've never been dead," Lamar shrugged, only now beginning to understand how hard this must be for the men around him. He was an Orellian soldier his whole life and if someone suddenly told him there will be no more Orellia, that his homeland will no longer be an autonomous country, and he would be forced to serve another king… He would have probably reacted way worse than the Levantians did. "I would say it's a good life though. Hayden has his flaws and he is hot-headed as hell sometimes, but he is fair and he cares about the people. He is a good king. And a good man."

Markos snorted. "A good man that beats women."

"I did say he had flaws."

A long sigh escaped Markos' lips and he ran his hand through his hair. "How the hell am I supposed to protect her from a king?"

"You're not. She needs to do that on her own. And…," Lamar hesitated, not sure how familiar he could get with the suddenly friendly Levantian, "...if you ask me, she is doing a pretty good job. There were lots of girls trying to pass Hayden's little 'test', some of them extremely motivated to become queens. None of them lasted more than ten minutes and he never even considered marrying any of them. Let alone giving them his mother's necklace." That still baffled Lamar deeply. He understood why Hayden would agree to a political marriage to avoid war, but that piece of jewelry was the king's most treasured possession. And he gave it to a woman he had just met.

A smirk twisted Markos' face. "She always was stubborn. Maybe too stubborn for her own good." Lamar shrugged, not really knowing what to say to that. "Anyway, there is nothing either of us can do about it. So I guess we just shut up, follow orders, and hope for the best." The Levantian measured his Orellian counterpart with something other than contempt for the first time. It wasn't exactly respect, but it was a start. The silence for the rest of their watch was almost comfortable.

The attention of both men was focused away from the house and thus none of them noticed a slight movement of the shades on one window. Unbeknownst to either of them, the princess had been listening in on their conversation.

The morning came too soon. Lamar woke up to a familiar noise around the camp, fingers desperately clutching his dagger. Nobody came to slit his throat while he slept. He peeked out of the tent, seeing that the men had already started to prepare a fireplace.

"You think you can go get some water without breaking your precious neck?" Markos was standing above him, holding a bucket. And while his words were still ironic, at least there was no open hostility between them anymore.

Lamar quickly sheathed the dagger and crawled out of his tent. "I think so. Sir," he added with a smirk, hoping that he could afford to tease the Levantian a bit after their conversation last night.

"Then get moving!" Markos rolled his eyes and turned away to yell at someone else.

Lamar was wondering whether the man was ever in a good mood. The well was located in the backyard and he made sure to fill his water pouches and drink his fill right from the source. Just in case. As he was pulling the well-bucket up again, he overheard light footsteps behind him. He straightened up and turned around, ready to defend himself, but it was just the princess' maid.

She stopped a few steps away from him, no doubt startled by his quick movement. "I… I washed it for you." His cloak was clean and neatly folded and the girl placed it on the edge of the well, carefully staying as far away from Lamar as she could. "Thank you," she whispered and turned to leave, never even looking him in the eyes.

"You're welcome!" He called at her as she was leaving, missing being around his own people. Out here everyone either hated him or was terrified of him and Lamar was never the one to like loneliness. He dragged the full bucket of water back to the camp and received a bowl of oatmeal with a spoonful of honey in return. Lamar examined it carefully, but it looked the same as what all the others had and there was no distinct smell or taste. It was quite possible someone had spat into it, but that was something he could live with.

Some of the men had already finished up with their food and packed up their things, ready to leave upon the princess' orders. The princess, however, was still asleep, so they were filling their spare time by fighting with wooden swords. Lamar watched them with great interest. Now he understood why they didn't strike him as soldiers at first sight. Simply because they weren't. At least not originally.

Their movements had nothing to do with military routines Lamar assumed would have to be similar to the Orellian ones. No, these men moved with brutal efficiency, their merciless strikes not forgiving a single mistake, pure violence visible from each move they made. These men were killers. Mercenaries, pirates, thugs, assassins. Criminals, no doubt. These were the men king Harold trusted with his daughter's life? Was their loyalty bought with money or did they actually believe in Levanta and the princess?

"Like what you see?" Markos walked over to him with almost a playful smile, holding two wooden swords.

Lamar raised one eyebrow. "You sure it's a good idea?"

"No, it's a terrible idea." The Levantian grinned. For once, he seemed to be in a good mood. "You up for it?"

Quickly swallowing the last bite, Lamar set the bowl aside and got up. "Always," he smirked.

"I'll try to not hurt you." Markos threw one of the swords in his way and Lamar grabbed it mid-air.

That should be fun. "I can't promise you the same thing." Of course he wasn't going to hurt him, but teasing the opponent before the fight was expected.

The Levantian snorted. "Orellians." His attack was sudden, striking even before he finished the word, but Lamar was expecting something like that and was ready for it. The wooden swords were barely more than sticks, but given the strength of their hits, it was probably for the best they weren't fighting with actual weapons. Even blunt iron swords could break a bone quite easily.

They exchanged a few quick strikes, assessing the strength and style of their opponent before the real dance began. Lamar could see that Markos, unlike some of his men, was a soldier, the familiar moves gave him away. But it didn't make him any less dangerous, his strikes were lightning-fast and deadly precise. And he did pick up countless dirty tricks. At one point, after parrying Lamar's strike, he went in the opposite direction than logic would command, spinning towards Lamar, not away from him, shoving his elbow into Orellian's mouth. The goal was to get Lamar on the ground, Markos followed the elbow with a shoulder, pushing against his opponent with full force.

Lamar could see what was happening and managed to turn aside, sending Markos to the ground instead. "Dirty tavern tricks." Lamar spat out some blood and swirled his sword. "That's the best Levantians can do?"

"Well, sorry we don't fight according to your noble standards." Markos grinned, back up on his feet before Lamar could finish the sentence.

But Lamar knew a few tricks as well, he was just waiting for the right moment. The problem was he underestimated the speed of Levantian's reflexes, and instead of just Markos, they both stumbled to the ground together, rolling in the dirt. Lamar was lighter than Markos and inevitably ended up on the bottom. The Levantian was kneeling above his chest, bringing the wooden sword down to stab Lamar's throat.

For a brief second, the Orellian thought Markos had succumbed too deep into his rage and wouldn't stop, but the tip of the sword just slightly nudged Lamar's jugular and the Levantian smirked. "You are dead, worm."

"So are you." Knowing there was nothing he could do to avert Markos' strike, Lamar at least managed to point his own blade towards his opponent's chest and softly poked the base of his ribcage where the heart was.

They were both panting heavily, sizing each other, and surprisingly there was no hate in their stares. Markos took his eyes off Lamar for a moment to look around and his face lost all color. "Fuck." He jumped up and extended his hand towards Lamar. "Get up."

"Oh no, don't get up for me, please." Princess' voice was ice cold and Lamar quickly picked himself off the ground and tried to dust his clothes while keeping his eyes down. "Would either of you two care to tell me what the fuck were you doing?"

Lamar glanced at Markos, but it was quite obvious there was no help coming from that front. "Apologies, my lady, we were just sparing, uhh… Comparing our fighting styles for the benefit of our soon-to-be joint armies." Having had to deal with Hayden's raging fits for years, Lamar was at least used to being scolded like that. It looked like the princess didn't use her voice in this way very often against her men because they just stood there like a flock of terrified chickens. What a bad influence Hayden had on her in that short time they spent together.

"You think I'm an idiot, captain?" Karina scoffed, clearly not amused by his elaborate explanation. Lamar was sure it was just a rhetorical question and kept his mouth shut. "King Hayden clearly stated that if any harm should come to you, the treaty that we made would be in danger." The princess stepped closer to him and grabbed his mouth, her thumb smearing a bit of blood from Lamar's lip all over his chin.

"Now, captain," she growled right into his face, "I have only known your king for a short time. But tell me, when he arrives and finds you with several broken bones from this 'sparing for the benefit of our joint armies'," she spat the words out with contempt, "will he patiently await an explanation?"

Lamar gulped. No, patiently awaiting anything wasn't really Hayden's style. He was more of a get mad, act, and then maybe, if someone is left alive, talk kind of a man. "No, my lady."

"No. I thought so." She sized both men for a few moments before sighing. "Well at least it looks like you weren't actually trying to kill each other, so you aren't completely stupid. Pack up, we are leaving. We have a lot to do at home and I'm afraid your services will be needed. So if you both could manage to stay alive until then, it would be awesome." She turned around and left, causing a collective sigh of relief among the men.