[The Infirmary]
Kael went to the infirmary.
The room lay quiet. Most of the cots were empty, the vast room holding only a handful of men. The air heavy with herbs and old linen.
Kael saw Tom lying alone on a cot in the corner. He walked over, a bag hanging from his hand.
He set the bag down beside Tom's cot.
The movement stirred him. Tom's eyes opened, unfocused at first, then slowly clearing. He looked at the figure standing beside the bed, taking in the leather armor and the cloak.
His brow creased.
"Kael?"
His voice was rough from sleep.
"What happened to you?"
Kael did not react to the question.
He glanced at the bag by the bed.
"The goods have been cleared," he said. "What's inside is your share."
He turned away at once and walked out of the infirmary, leaving the bag where it was.
Tom stayed where he was, staring at Kael's back until it disappeared beyond the doorway.
Then he moved. He grabbed the bag at once and slipped out, keeping his head down.
He found an empty corner away from the lamps. There, he loosened the tie and looked inside.
His eyes widened.
"Gods," he muttered."That much?"
[The Training Grounds - Sector 4]
Sector 4 lay beyond the archery butts, where broken targets and packed earth marked an older training ground. It had once belonged to Captain Valen's personal guard. Now, it was assigned to Kael.
Kael heard Kogan's voice before he saw him.
"Move, you rats! Get your feet up! The enemy will carve you apart while you drag your asses!"
Kael stepped into the clearing.
Griggs, Silas, Jarek, and Bren were running laps through deep snow, carrying logs on their shoulders. They dragged in air, breath tearing from their lungs, steam rolling off their bodies.
Kogan stood in the center, holding a heavy wooden staff. He saw Kael approach.
"Halt!" Kogan bellowed.
The men dropped the logs with a collective groan, collapsing into the mud.
Kogan walked over to Kael, wiped the sweat from his bald head, and came to a stop.
"They're soft," Kogan grunted, gesturing toward the men. "But they have potential."
"Introduce them," Kael replied. "I know Griggs. Tell me about the others. And why you chose them."
Kogan nodded and pointed the staff at the thin man gasping for air.
"Silas. A thief, but a capable one. He fits scouting work."
"Offense?"
"He was assigned to guard a noble boy and his sister during a visit. He stole from them."
"A mage in the entourage caught him. The girl intervened. That's why he's still breathing."
"Good hands. Bad judgment."
Kael looked at Silas. Fast hands. Greedy, but skilled.
Kogan pointed to the man with the long arms and calloused fingers.
"Jarek," Kogan continued. "Archer. Best eyes I've seen in a long time."
Kael gave a slight nod, signaling him to continue.
"Poaching," Kogan spat.
"He dropped a stag in the Ironwood Forest. Clean shot, through the eye, from eighty paces."
"The animal was being run down by a lord's son and his hunting party."
"The boy flew into a rage over an archer stealing his kill."
"He wanted blood, then decided mercy would look better."
"So he let the sentence stand instead of the blade."
Jarek lifted his head
"It was my arrow."
Kael nodded. A man who could hit a moving target from eighty paces was valuable.
Finally, Kogan pointed to the last man.
Bren.
He was average height, average build. He had a face that was remarkably forgettable. If you looked away for a second, you'd struggle to remember what he looked like.
"And him?" Kael asked.
Kogan frowned. He looked at Bren, then back at Kael.
"Bren. All-rounder. Can use a sword, a spear, a bow. Knows how to set traps. Knows how to cook."
Kogan hesitated.
"Unknown offense," the former centurion admitted. "His file is sealed. Black wax. Even I couldn't read it."
"Not one of ours, not a soldier from this camp—dumped here without a file, and silent about whatever he did."
Bren looked up at Kael. He didn't look exhausted like the others. He gave Kael a dry grin, stiff and strained, lips pulled back to bare a mouthful of white teeth.
"I'm just an ordinary man, Captain. Happy to serve."
Kael stared at Bren for a long second.
A sealed file in a place like this usually meant one of two things: someone with a powerful background, or someone who had offended a presence that could not be named.
"Fine. " Kael looked at the group—a thief, a poacher, a mystery, a farmer, and a former centurion.
Kael told Kogan. "Turn them into weapons."
Kogan grinned, slamming his staff into the mud.
"With pleasure."