Callum meets up with his uncle

“Callum?!” It was easy to guess that the two men that embraced in the courtyard of the barracks housing one of Zatakia’s most more prominent military units were related, even with their clothes being quite radically different from each other. Because while Callum was dressed in the traditional attire of a warrior from the furthest reaches of the highlands, his uncle Cahern had gone native, switching the loincloth and cloak for a pair of trousers and a thick tunic.

Still, Cahern was at most a couple of inches shorter than his nephew and possessing the same sort of powerful build, along with him having a similar face with a strong jaw and grey eyes as Callum. Judging from how easy it had been to find a soldier that had heard of Cahern and could give him the directions to his barracks, Callum suspected that his uncle had built himself quite a reputation over the last few years of campaigning.

“Good to see you again, uncle Cahern,” Callum grinned as he took a step back.

“Likewise, boy! Ten years and you’ve grown up to be every bit the big, strong bastard that your father is,” Cahern smiled and scratched his beard, which was a far cry from the stubble clinging to the bottom of Callum’s face, “How’s he and your mother?”

“They’re well.”

“And your siblings? How many of them are there now?”

“Six. Harag just got married, Dara has got a couple of little ones already, and the rest are still growing up.”

“And you’re here,” Cahern’s smile grew wider, “Let me guess, boy, come to be a soldier?”

“Yes, uncle.”

“Word hasn’t reached you that the war’s over, then?” Now, Cahern’s expression changed and he let out a sigh, “I mean, I could probably get you into this company, but it’s all garrison duty and sitting around with a thumb up our arses for now.”

“...That’s not what I came here for,” Callum’s heart sank.

“No, I imagine it isn’t,” Cahern nodded at his nephew, then smiled again, “Come on, I’ll buy you a beer.”

As they exited the grounds, Callum couldn’t help but notice something that drove home how far from home he was. Standing not far from the mouth of an alleyway and looking very much like they’d just stepped out of it were two women. Although they differed in that one was tall, long-legged and a brunette while the other was a short, very curvaceous redhead, things that they had in common included strikingly beautiful features and matching pairs of full, round tits squeezed into black and red corseted dresses. Neither of them said anything to him as he and Cahern walked past, although the redhead winked and the brunette pulled her lips into a seductive smile.

It wasn’t that there weren’t pretty girls back home, but not like that.

“Are you worried that loincloth’s not heavy enough, lad?” Cahern chuckled.

Fifteen minutes later, Callum was sitting at a table in the back of a nearby tavern, a tankard of ale in front of him. Despite his disappointment and youth, he was drinking it slowly, both because it didn’t taste particularly good and because he didn’t want to get drunk.

“So, Callum, you know how to use that sword you’re carrying around?” Cahern had just taken a seat opposite his nephew.

Callum nodded.

“Ever killed anyone?”

“Some broken men tried to steal our cattle two summers ago,” Callum said, “And a pack of orcs tried to pillage our lands last winter.”

“And my brother taught you how to hunt?”

“Yes, both with a bow and with traps.”

“Well, Callum, I can’t offer you much adventure if you join the army, like I said, my boy,” Cahern leaned in closer over the table and placed his arms down on it, one on top of the other, “However, I’ve some old friends that might have some work for you, if you’re interested.”

“What kind?” Callum’s spirits rose again at the prospect of his long journey not having been in vain. Even the beer tasted better. Slightly.