Mayner

The arrival of the dwarves has been a godsend allowing our troops to rest the past few days while not allowing the barbarians the same luxury. So many Sandersonian soldiers are dead that there is more than enough food in the camps even here during campaign, for that I am at least grateful.

Something every army usually struggles with for though people don't usually have to eat daily. Fighting uses up a lot of energy and the ether within the air becomes thicker with every life taken needing consolidating which induces hunger, at least the scholars tell us. As my father's son these are the worries I have and must keep tabs on while he deals with the bigger picture.

The army has been resting the past four days, replenishing our strength and taking care of our wounded. I look at my hallow eyed little brother Justin staring off into space, though he is a better swordsman than me he wasn't made for war. The constant adrenaline high and alertness needed for a protracted battle has frayed his nerves raw.

I look to my older brother Magnus having a quiet word with my stubborn wife Aelia who refuses to leave even in her condition. I will admit that her enthusiasm and devotion to our arranged marriage pleasantly surprised me. Especially in light of her refusing for us to be intimate before the ceremony, women are strange creatures with strange morals and expectations.

We have been getting along quite well Aelia and I despite her stubbornness, maybe mother was right that Mira's presence was distracting me from seeing all of Aelia's virtues previously. What was I even thinking taking up with a slave, a Mage for sure, but one that was a slave nonetheless. Aelia looks at me and smiles, my face warms, I look away. How could I have thought I loved Mira, I flush in shame this time. I'm being stupid, boyish.

I sigh and look around the tent to my current slaves polishing armour and passing along foods and drink. Mira was right in some ways; they've been my slaves for at least since I was 25 and yet I only know them by face and not name. Only remembering Quentin the head slave of my new household, I sigh as I think of the excess that we now have as a family after having joined the Houses.

Being of a 'noble' House has it's advantages even during campaign. A big comfortable tent and the luxury of bringing servants is one of them even for a new recruit like Justin to enjoy. So long as everything is within regulation and you can feed and house the servants outside of the army's dedicated stores of products there aren't any issues.

But if you think you won't obey orders of higher officers because you belong to a House you will quickly find yourself naked and being caned on a tent post for all to see. Something that only needed to happen six times for the other nobles to get the message, including to a royal that killed one of his cousins.

*Shaking head, fucking royals and their dramas.

"Why don't you have your shoulder pad fixed while we still have a respite?" I ask Magnus looking at his armour being polished.

He has been in the brunt of the fighting, both Justin and him. Facing the barbarians head-on wave after wave. Justin at the back with the least experienced soldiers, Mugnas at the front lines where life is cheapest and death is easy.

"I don't know, maybe as a reminder." He says shaking his head in thought before becoming animated as he often does about fighting.

"You won't believe how I got it," Magnus says looking at all of us in the tent. Me, Justine, Aelia, and Aelia's cousin the young Gwendolyne all enjoying the relative respite that has been afforded the army.

"My squad has this barbarian using a single longsword surround. Six of us initially and Dust leads the charge, shield forward, ready to deflect any strike to giving Ororos the opening. Easy kill right? One against six, even a barbarian can't stand against that. Then this kid with the longsword, probably as young as Justine here jumps up and kicks at Dust's shield with enough force to stop him in his tracts. I mean you all know how strong the man was, Dust could shoulder charge a standing horse and topple it.

"Ororos swings and misses as the kid somehow dodges, I didn't even catch how. Moving in an uncanny way like a wet rag twisting in the wind he weaves around. Next thing I know I have the length of a sword kissing my cheek as it's pulled from my shoulder. I didn't even think to dodge or block I was so shocked." Magnus giggles historically at himself before downing a goblet of wine.

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I'm both horrified and again worried. Magnus is a very good warrior, very good. At 45 years old he has been considered for joining training to become a royal guard. His peers and older veterans all acknowledge his potential, and his Awakening is already a sure thing.

Our family would have been ruined with his death unless father had more children. The prestige of a House is elevated and maintained by the number of Awakened it produces. After father Awakens, Magnus is expected to be next being testament to the potency of our family line.

"Anyways it didn't end well for us I can tell you. By the time the fighting took us away from that young fucker it was down to me and Yardis. And I swear if she wasn't a woman that fucker would have cut her arm of like he did Spindle's." He shakes his head and takes a large swing of his wine.

I gulp, glad I'm still with the forces protecting the mages though we've seen a lot of fighting as well but it seems everyone else has seen worse. The constant magical firepower makes everything easier on us mage protecting squards.

''I very much doubt these savages have any partiality for the fairer sex,'' Gwen says flinging a silk scarf towards Magnus. He catches it and moves to sit next to her on the pillows swishing his glass around spilling the red onto the carpets.

''Why else didn't he kill her then, mhmm..'' he asks in a loud whisper.

''Maybe she is just that good of a warrior,'' Gwen says running a hand down his cheek then looking away from him. I snort at his dejected look.

The scar on his shoulder and neck armour looks a lot more menacing now that I know where it came from.

"Did you hear we are getting more reinforcements from the Maori?" I change the subject.

Magnus grunts. "Those fuckers have been looking for an excuse to be at peace with us for years now. Not many people know how depleted they've become these last few years. The king extorted them with a promise of trade and a pact of none aggression. They won't see an ounce of any of the celestial ore we'll get from these lands."

"I can't believe so many people have to die just because of some rocks." Aelia says with a grimace while the slave continues fanning her.

"Its the rarest substance on Gaia. Of course the kingdom will go to war for it." Justine says, having been listening. He sighs. "I don't think I'm meant to be a soldier though," he adds quietly.

We remain silent at that. Father and mother expect both Magnus and Justine to be fighters, and that's what they will be.

"How's the arm?" I ask after a moment.

He flexes his hand and clenches his fist before his eyes. "It feels a bit stranger and I sometimes get tingling in my arm but besides that its ok, if slightly weaker than it used to be."

"You're lucky they found yours and attached it back," Magnus says.

"I once saw a man having his arm grown back. He screamed for hours, shit himself too." Magnus says.

"Why aren't they doing that for the other injured soldiers? Growing their limbs back I mean." Gwen asks softly.

"Its too expensive. It takes too much energy and mana to grow back a limb. And the resulting limb is useless in a fight for dozens of ten-days. Quicker and cheaper to send them home and replace them with new soldiers.

"Besides, some of those men are glad to be going home, fighting these fucken' barbarians isn't normal. They aren't right in the head somehow..." Magnus trails off in thought, drinking more wine.

I know what he means, I've seen these creatures in human skin fight looking like pin cushions full of arrows. Taking out defenders while ignoring their own gaping wounds or missing limbs. I shiver a little. I wish we had never hear the word 'Barbarian'.