”Look sharp there recruit! Who is your sergeant?”
A terrified mumbled reply later, Captain Oso drilled the young man relentlessly for a few minutes before turning on her heel and stalking back toward the rear of the formation. Safely out of view of the assembled men, Captain Oso smiled and nodded to the King, who was standing in the shadows observing. He gestured to her, and she approached. Her familiarity came from years of service, but more importantly from blood spilled side by side with King Odric. In dozens of campaigns, the King had fought beside her, leading the troops of his personal retinue in the vanguard of Korvosa’s forces.
”Your highness, these men look rough, but they are getting there. I think we’ll make a fine batch of roughnecks out of them yet.”
The King nodded and turned to leave. Captain Oso put her hand on his shoulder in what would have been a horrendous breach of etiquette had she and Odric not shared the unique bond of fellow officers who had fought, bled, led men, and lost men in service together. King Odric paused and looked at her questioningly.
”Thank you for the opportunity to train your forces first-hand. It is an honor beyond my ability to express.” She gestured to her disfigured left arm, which was shattered beyond repair when she shielded the sovereign from what may very well have been a death blow in a skirmish with a troop of Giants in the far north three summers past. The King merely patted her shoulder and nodded before retiring to the shadows once again.
”Eyes front you lily-white princess! Give me three laps and report back with that case of the looksies cured!”
When the man blanched instead of immediately sprinting off, ”NOW!”