Free The City of Pillars by Joshua P. Simon Page B

Melek, calling his lieutenant back for a private word.
    “Yes, Captain,” he answered, turning around.
    “For now, let’s end these displays.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You sparring so many of our own is a great test of skill, I agree. However, it serves no purpose in the immediate future as our enemies will not fight like we do. If you want to fight multiple opponents, then do so in a way that will better serve our purpose. Have others in the Host try to mimic the styles of our enemy. And make sure such matches be set up for everyone, not only you.”
    Omar wore an expression of shame and frustration. “Yes, Captain. I’ll see to it.”
    Melek placed a hand on his shoulder. “Good. Go get some rest. You’ve earned it.”
    Omar saluted and left, obviously unhappy with the aftermath of the sparring session.
    Khalil walked up behind Melek. “He is trying to impress you. Though he trusts you as captain, he’s still bitter that he has yet to defeat you in a match.”
    “I know,” said Melek. “And we can’t afford such a childish attitude. Especially now. Rather than seeking individual glory, his focus should be on seeking to glorify Hubul.”
    We’ve already given up too much of ourselves not to.
     

CHAPTER 8
    Rondel lay with his head upon a plush pillow. He stroked the hair of the young princess beside him, her blonde locks flowing over his bare chest. His other hand ran down her naked shoulder and upper back. She stirred in her sleep, the sound a seductive whimper.
    A grin crawled across Rondel’s face as he thought about their night of passion. The grin faded as he looked toward the paned window to his right. The sky had lightened ever so slightly.
    It was his turn to sigh. He’d need to leave. Servants would be coming along soon and it wouldn’t be fitting for the princess to be caught in bed with a minstrel.
    He knew it wouldn’t be good for him either.
    He kissed the top of the princess’s head, and slid out from beneath her supple body, easing her onto her pillow in one fluid motion. Years of practice ensured the girl remained asleep.
    Rondel tiptoed across the granite floor, suppressing a shiver as the cool air drew goose bumps from his naked flesh. He moved to the forest green chair next to the dying fire where his clothes rested. He donned his leggings, then his tunic and boots.
    He stirred the fire carefully and added another couple logs so when the princess woke she wouldn’t be cold. Carefully, he secured his pack over his shoulder and picked up his lute case.
    He walked to the bed to gaze upon the princess’s beauty one last time. It was a habit he could never break. At first, he thought it had to do with admiring his conquest, but lately he wondered if there was something more.
    Rondel let out a heavy sigh, one that lacked the satisfaction the princess’s had exhibited earlier.
    He left without a sound.
    * * *
    Rondel drifted out of sleep slowly, carrying a heavy sadness.
    Gods, where did that dream from?
    He didn’t bother answering for he already knew. In his younger days, he had bedded any and every beautiful woman he had the opportunity to. He liked to tell himself that the women had used him as much as he used them, but he knew that had not always been the case.
    Too many broken promises. Too many women hurt. All for a few hours of fun. In the end, was it worth it? It seemed like it then, but now?
    In his youth, the idea of committing himself to any one woman was frightening. Even as an older man some of those fears remained.
    Just look at how I reacted when Andrasta brought up the matter with Shadya. Cold fear.
    Commitment had once meant settling down, and in his youth he had an entire world to see. But after seeing most of the world, he wondered if the tradeoff had been worth it.
    Is that why I pursued mostly nobles, people above my station? Because I knew I could never be with them more than just a few nights. Certainly not long enough to build a life.
    Is that why Shadya is