shirt. Bornius was the son of a farmer and Fil and Jonas liked him immediately. He was a hard worker, kind, and looked to help others before he helped himself.
“Jonas didn’t make anything. Torgan has had it out for him since he came here a year ago. It doesn’t matter what he does, Torgan has made up his mind he hates him,” Fil said, sitting on the edge of the bed above Jonas.
“I’ve tried to befriend him, and even today I covered for him, but it matters not; we commoners will always be scum to him,” Jonas said.
“I don’t understand how the king, or the other commanders, would promote Torgan to a position of power with such prejudices. How can he be a leader if he can’t inspire all his troops, not just the highborn?” asked Fil.
“A lot of the highborn believe the same way he does,” said Calden.
“I don’t believe the king agrees. He didn’t seem that type to me,” replied Jonas.
“You’ve met the king?” asked Bornius incredulously.
Jonas looked up at Fil, forgetting that these boys, their new friends, didn’t know anything about their story or how they were sponsored. They never asked so it never came up, and Jonas worked hard to cover his God Mark, which was almost an impossible task, but so far he had been successful in the deception. Master Morgan was privy to Jonas’s mark and he helped him in keeping it hidden. When it came to bathing, Morgan would provide time where Jonas could be alone.
“Yes, Fil and I met King Gavinsteal over a year ago. We were both sponsored by Master Landon, a well-known merchant from Tarsis. Master Landon is a good friend to the king. He brings him dwarven weapons and armor to outfit his knights,” said Jonas.
“How did you meet this Master Landon?” asked Calden.
Jonas looked up again; shrugging his shoulders, Fil gave him a go ahead expression. So Jonas told them their abridged story. He left out information about his mark and the battle they had on the road, but he told them about the destruction of their town and their meeting with Airos.
“I can’t believe you met a cavalier. What was he like?” asked Bornius.
“Kind and generous,” said Jonas.
“And someone to see in a fight. He was an incredible fighter, and he was inspiring. He made everyone feel like they could win. I’ve never felt like that before,” said Fil.
“Yes, I’ve heard that cavaliers have the power to inspire courage and push back fear. I’ve heard Airos was one of the best. I would love to have met him. It saddens me he was killed. And what is a Banthra? I have never heard of one,” asked Bornius.
“I’m not sure exactly,” responded Fil. “I think it is some sort of demon brought here by Malbeck, a minion of the Forsworn I think, but I never saw it.”
All the boys except Fil and Jonas tapped their chests in the four pointed star at the mention of the dark gods.
There was a stir by the entrance and the apprentices that were in the barracks quickly shuffled to attention. Jonas, looking towards the door, saw Prince Nelstrom briskly moving towards them. He wore a glossy black leather breastplate with the Finarthian symbol embossed on it. The prince’s breaches were made from supple black leather and a flowing silk cape hung from his strong shoulders. He wore knee high leather boots polished to a glossy black. His dark hair was cut short and his beard was trimmed to a point, giving his face an angular, strong look.
The apprentices near the prince all bowed as he walked with long strides towards Jonas and his friends. Fil jumped down from the bunk and the other boys got to their feet standing at attention, bowing slightly as the prince moved directly to Jonas.
“Leave us,” the prince said curtly, staring directly at Jonas.
Fil, Calden, and Bornius quickly walked away toward the other apprentices who were watching intently at a distance.
“Good day, Prince Nelstrom. It is good to see you,” Jonas said, matching his stare.
The prince ignored his comment, looking him up and down. His blue eyes were piercing and shone with malice. “I heard what you did to my son,” the prince whispered, his voice laced with venom.
“I did nothing, he attacked me…”
“Do not address me unless I ask you to. You are nothing to me, a low commoner who has gotten lucky. Who are you to even consider crossing blades with my son? He is