“They seem to have been targeting specific infrastructure to cause unrest across the populace.” Aeric explained.

He had moved aside the wooden figurines and placed a rudimental blueprint of the city layout onto the round table. His finger snaked along the map, starting at the orphanage and winding its way towards the academy.

“Are you certain?” Said the King.

“There can be no doubt, your Majesty. The enemy was smart, they not only entered but also exited the confines of the city unseen. Fires caused civil unrest and panic.”

“I see.” The King stroked his beard.

“The fires throughout the city have been extinguished. It could have been much worse if it wasn’t for your… hero.” Aeric looked at me and gave a sarcastic cough.

The King gave me a large pat on the back which caused me to lose my breath.

“Yes Hero, your exploits have saved us yet again. What a great story for the people. You are a figure the folk can rally behind, saving those helpless orphans from the fiendish Goblin attack.”

“That’s good,” Aeric muttered, “Write that down.” He ordered to a servant stood behind him due fully taking notes.

“It was nothing really.” I added, staring at the blueprint.

I was still a little unsure how I had extinguished the fire, it was more luck than anything. Then a came to a horrible realisation; the fires started outside the academy and led to the tavern. The exact path I walked to meet with Torg.

“Took you long enough, genius.”

‘You knew all along?’

“What did you think would happen if you started throwing balls of fire all over the place.”

I gulped.

“Your Majesty, if I may.” I began. The King nodded, a glint of eagerness in his eyes.

“I have taken it upon myself to place wards,” I pointed at a few random locations on the blueprints, “here, here and here. These wards will alert us to any hidden enemy who dare to enter the city again.”

“Such a magic exists?” Aeric asked, nudging his servant to pay extra attention.

“Yes.” I lied. “It is a difficult skill that not all can master.” I took it upon myself to walk around the table dramatically.

“With these wards in place, I can assure you that such an attack will not happen again.”

“Amazing!” The King bellowed, “Yet again you have proven your worth, Hero. Aeric, let it be known that we have the situation under control with the help of the Hero.”

“Hero.” Aeric grumbled, before bowing to the King and then leaving the room. His servant followed.

With that the King gave me another pat on the back and took his leave. His guards and servants followed, leaving just me and Torg in the room.

‘Hey, Kaiden. Was it you that defeated the men in the tavern?’

“Of course.”

‘Did you mean to put out the fire too?’

“I don’t look good with a black eye or burnt hair. You are possessing my body, remember?”

‘Well, thanks. I appreciate your concern.’

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“My Lord,” Torg called, placing a hand on my shoulder from behind.

“Ah, Torg. Yes, I wanted to discuss something with you.”

We moved from the strategy room to my castle chambers. Along the way the servants and even some of the guards nodded in my direction. I could have sworn some of the maids even giggled as I pass them.

My chamber was exactly has I had left it. Although, that isn’t saying much considering I had no possessions really. The bed had been freshly made and the hearth emitted a warm glow.

“Take a seat.” I ordered, motioning towards the bed.

Torg looked uncomfortable as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, unsheathing his sword in the process and resting it against the bedframe.

He was annoyingly handsome. It made me sick. His short azure hair was messy and unkempt but seemed to be effortlessly stylish. Ugh. In my world he could probably get work as a model.

His uniform was identical to my own, but where mine was black, his was the same shade of blue as Asha’s. He wore a brilliant white shirt beneath his tunic that had golden decorative weaving where the buttons should have been.

Across his hip he had a thick white belt with a golden clasp. A large leather sheath was attached to the belt where his sword would normally be kept.

He looked at me, in a not unfriendly manner, with his golden hued eyes.

“Tell me Torg, why do you live in a tavern?” I asked.

“It’s uh, complicated, my Lord.” He replied, nervously.

“Let’s try again. Why do you not live in the castle or the academy? Are the Sons of the Sword not allowed to stay in the castle?” I was genuinely curious.

“It’s not that. Most of my peers would reside in the academy or their master’s residence.” He replied.

This wouldn’t do. I couldn’t have my bodyguard lurking in places of ill repute. I needed put as many bodies between me and danger as possible.

“Right. And who is your master?”

“You are, my Lord.”

“Well then. I expect you to take residence in the academy as of tonight.”

Torg looked puzzled. He rubbed his palms against his thighs.

“I suppose it was foolish to attempt to hide anything from you. How long have you known?” He looked concerned.

I wasn’t entirely sure what he was getting at but decided to go with it.

“It was obvious from the beginning.” I said with confidence.

“I don’t know how you could have known.” He said, whilst staring at the floor.

“I can’t give away all my secrets.” I added, tapping my nose.

“It’s just,” He started, “it started out small, you know?”

I nodded.

“A game of cards here, a bet or two there.”

“Ah.” It seemed Torg had some kind of gambling problem. Odd, he didn’t look the type.

“I owe a debt to those men at the tavern. Normally I’d moved on to the next one by the time I’d raked up a debt like that. I was so close to winning enough to pay off all my debts.”

“Do you owe a lot?” I asked.

“To those men? A little. Across the city? Probably somewhere around fifty gold coins.”

“How much do you get paid?” I asked.

“One gold coin per moon.”

“You will be an old man by the time you pay off your debt.” I mused.

“Not if I win.” He snapped.

He stood and bowed, “I’m sorry, my Lord. That is the kind of thinking that got me into this mess in the first place.”

“I understand.” I didn’t. I’ve never understood the appeal of gambling, it is just throwing good money after bad. The fact that he was in so much debt would work in my favour though.

“When I drink. When I drink I become a different person. I’ve made some foolish decisions.”

“We’ve all been there.” I said smiling.

“I work up a tab. Try to win back enough to pay of my last debt and then move on to the next tavern.” He continued.

“Torg. I will make you a deal. A bet if you will. If you move into the academy with me, I will pay off all your debt. Right now.” I offered.

“You would pay off all my debt? Fifty gold?”

“Yup.” I said confidently.

“Do you have that kind of money?”

“I have the ear of the King.” I said, realising he had a point. I’m sure if I asked the King it could be arranged.

“But.” I held out my finger. Torg looked up at me with hope. “You cannot go running off drinking. Or placing wagers.”

“Right.”

“Not without me that is.” I added.

“My Lord, I don’t know how I could repay you.” He bowed graciously.

“Do your best to keep me and my associates safe from harm.” I said.

“Of course.” He lifted his head and smiled.

“Now tell me, what are the Son’s of the Sword?” I was curious.

He looked at me with a puzzled expression. Then as if making a realisation said, “We are orphans who train with the sword from a young age. As orphans we have no ties to nobility, making us less likely to be swayed by politics. We are entrusted to protect important figures and ensure the safety of the royal family.”

“Are there more Son’s in the castle?” I asked.

“There are some, but the royal family uses its personal guard which has sworn fealty to their family.”

“Hmm.” I added, as if contemplating.

“Because we are orphans, they see us as expendable. So, we tend to undertake work considered without honour or likely to fail. We are trained in the art of fighting dirty.”

I patted him on the shoulder and laughed. “That sounds like my kind of guys.”

Before he could reply there was a knock at the door. Torg and I looked at each other.

“Enter.” I called. I’ve always wanted to say that.

A breathless servant entered the room and bowed.

“Forgive me, the King is convening a meeting and demands your presence in the strategy room.” He wheezed.

“Very well.” I replied.

I followed the servant through the castle and back to the room with the round table. Apparently, it was called the strategy room. I suppose that made sense.

The room was a hive of activity as we entered. The King and Aeric were stood in one corner of the room, deep in conversation with a group of men. Aeric looked as though someone had just taken a dump in his lunch.

Around the room nobles seemed to be chatting to each other. I assume they were nobles from the array of flamboyant clothing on display. Almost every colour and pattern were on show.

Aeric and the King seemed to have finished their conversation as they moved away from the group.

Aeric stood in front of the table and clapped his hands.

“Alright, gentlemen. Everyone seems to be here. Let us convene this meeting.” His voice projected around the room.

In response the room mumbled with quiet chatter.

“Take your seats!” The King shouted.

Everyone in the room scrambled about heading towards their allocated seats. I didn’t have one so simply stood where I was.

“Master.” Asha said, nodding at me. She must have come into the room after us.

“Asha.” I winked.

“What is going on?” She whispered.

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t look good.” Torg said.

“Your Majesty.” One of the seated nobles stood and announced. He was a pot-bellied man with a ridiculous toupee.

“What, Baron Rotsen?” The King snapped.

Baron Rotsen’s eyes glared in my direction.

“Do you intend to discuss matters of state in the presence of a mere guttersnipe thug and a thrall with third-rate magic?”

I crossed my arms, trying to understand the insult and if it was aimed at me.

“Quite right.” Another noble agreed.

“Unheard of in his Father’s reign.” Another muttered.

The nobles nodding like a clan of meerkats.

“Fine. Fine.” The King called and gestured towards his Chancellor.

Aeric waved his hand, “All servants and guards leave.”

There was a ruckus of movement as they did as they were told. Torg and Asha said their goodbyes and left.

“Let us begin.” The King moaned.

“Thank you for attending this meeting on such short notice.” Aeric began. “A rider arrived just a short while ago bearing grave news.”

“Well?” Baron Rotsen called after a short silence.

“A goblin army was sighted just north of the city of Kerren.” The King announced.

The crowd mumbled again.

“Hence why Lord Goodbow is not present today. He is busy preparing city defences and requests aid.” Aeric added.

“How big is the army?” Another noble asked.

“We are unsure,” Aeric replied, “conservative estimates are four hundred.”

“Four hundred?” The Baron exclaimed, “we should mobilise the army immediately.”

“And will your family be volunteering to lead the charge?” Another noble asked with sarcasm.

“We will be sending a force North to aid Kerren.” The King explained.

“If I may, your Majesty,” Aeric said, “if we send the army North it would leave the capital unguarded. This could be a ploy.”

Murmurs again.

“What do you suggest?” The King asked.

“Since the goblin force is relatively small, we could send a relief force to Kerren to deter the invaders.” Aeric offered.

“And who would lead such a force?” The King puzzled.

“If I may make a suggestion, your Majesty?” The Baron piped up.

The King motioned for him to elaborate. The Baron stood and started pacing.

“It would seem unwise to send the noble houses to defeat a minor force that may or may not attack Kerren. Surely the great houses should be here, in the seat of power, ready to protect the King.” He continued.

There was a nodding and murmur of agreement across the room.

“I hear there is a force of,” he composed himself, as if struggling to find the words, “commoner orphans, here within the city.”

“The Sons of the Sword.” The King stated.

“Yes! The Sons of the Sword. There must be a large number of them around. They multiply like rats.” The Baron spat.

Another agreement in the room.

“There are two hundred and fifty Sons of the Sword available to deploy.” Aeric said, reading from his notes.

“In that case, it would seem wise to send them North to quell the attack, while the Noble families fortify the capital.” He concluded.

“Aye.” A few voices called out.

There was another wave of agreement across the room.

“And who would lead this force? The Sons of Sword have no leadership. We would need to also send a commander to maintain discipline.” Aeric said.

“Not an issue,” The King bellowed, “I have just the man in mind.”

The King smiled at me.

I smiled back.

I felt all the eyes in the room rest on me.

“That’s settled then,” The Barren retook his seat, “shall we feast?”