The next step

As we entered my father’s chambers, we sat at his desk. He rubbed his temple with a finger and thumb, trying to ease out the tension he must be feeling there.

“As you just saw, the king is difficult to reason with.” Said father.

“I would say unbearable and completely idiotic.” I said. “I can’t believe he won’t see the advantage of food in a time of war.”

“The army will appreciate it at least. And after we win this war with the orcs, we will shower the king with riches if that is what he wants.” My father told me.

“What do we do next?” I asked.

“I’ve already sent out trusted scouts to gain more information and to keep me posted about the movements of the orcs. It is likely they will retaliate to the ambush.” Father explained. “My next big move would be to raid one of their villages.”

“I can lead that charge, my whelps and I proved how efficient we can be.” I told my father.

“I know how well you did back there, son. But let me come up with a strategy first. I won’t keep you in the dark. I should have a plan by tomorrow, come see me then.”

And with that, I left my fathers’s quarters and made my way to see my warriors. Zandor was practicing his swordsmanship skills in the yard against a training dummy. I watched him from a distance as he struck at it. He thrusted just below where the breastbone would be, but he came at an elevated angle to make a killing strike. He swung at the neck, actually dislodging some straw stuffing inside due to his strength.

“Strike harder!” I instructed.

Zandor was not expecting my attention on him, he stiffens at my watchful eye, but quickly gained his composure. He repeated the same strike, but with more strength behind it. Half the neckline of the dummy opened up, and zandor’s practice sword spilt in half, splinters flew around him.

“Good strike.” I praised. “Even the sword broke because of how strong the hit was. But with a real sword, I’d expect that head to have been cleaved off.”

“Thank you, general.” He said to me. Zandor gave me a small bow of appreciation and respect.

“How about a tougher match? A training dummy is all well and good for exercise. But real results comes from traing with a real opponent.” I told Zandor. He nodded in understanding.

I collected two swords from the weapon rack and threw one to Zandor. He caught it with ease by the handle and took his stance. I mirrored a similar stance to Zandor.

We begun our practice fight, Zandor had definitely improved, especially from gaming first hand experience against the orcs. I still managed to best him.

“Remember. Keep your form to the correct standard, that comes from training with real opponents.”

“Thank you for the lesson and opportunity for real practice.” Said Zandor.

“Tomorrow I will need every one of my whelps here in the yard at first light to listen for my orders. Pass this onto the others.” I told him.

Zandor gave me another bow and left to find his brethren. I decided to return home.

The streets were busy with wolvir, snow had started to fall again, the cold barely bothered me, I could feel only the smallest of chills. My fur kept me insulated enough. Some warriors recognised me as I made my way home, some have me nods of their heads or greeted me, others passed without a word or acknowledgment.

As I walked, the snowflakes settled on my fur, their delicate edges melting instantly, leaving tiny droplets of water that clung to my coat. The cold air invigorated me, and I felt my senses heighten, my ears perked up, and my eyes scanning the crowds with a mixture of habit and instinct. I navigated through the throngs of wolvir, my clawed feet clicking on the stone pavement, the sound echoing off the buildings.

I turned a corner, and my home came into view, I could see the low light emitting from the windows, a fire must be lit inside. I reached the door to my home and opened it to take refuge inside away from the snow.