Present Day
After midday, Sylvin’s party returned with a deer that they had felled in the woods. The party was in good humour, the sort of gregarious joviality that Yelena had seen throughout her life in men who fought together. Battle bound men in a way that transcended title, wealth, and nature.
They skinned the deer themselves and built a firepit in the killing field, over which they roasted it.
Diersen sent the servants and slaves scurrying to the kitchen, and a barrel of ale was carried from the kitchen store out to where the men cooked their kill. Yelena watched Sylvin amongst them, her silver-haired man included in the revelry although he continued to hold himself in reserve.
Even after three years in battle, and a decade training with the men around him, even after everything that they had endured together, the battlefield atrocities that they would have witnessed and performed – even after all that, even surrounded by these men, Sylvin was alone.