The Balance (First Draft | Discontinued)

Chapter 5 (Aleksander)

Aleksander stood on the soldiers' training ground, surrounded on all sides by men in navy uniforms. With the exception of Aleksander, they were all listening with rapt attention to Major Nilssen, the austere, straight-backed man in charge of the day's drills. Aleksander was gazing just above the major's unusually round head, at the city walls of Avmakt. The city wasn't far at all, but the fog had settled low and heavy, like a thick winter blanket. All that could be seen of the wall was a hazy, dark shade that stretched across the horizon.

"...remember, men," Nilssen was saying, "You are faster than they are, and stronger. If you can get to them before they can incapacitate you, then you'll live to fight another day."

You'll live to fight another day if you do the smart thing and run, he thought, but that would be desertion and end in a summary execution. That was one thing that Moravsko and Riken had in common, besides having absolute bastards in charge of the country.

Nilssen's eyes swept over the ranks, searching for one unfortunate soldier to make an example of. "When you fight, it is best to kill from a distance," he said, sounding disappointed when he didn't find one. "It gives them less time to react. But if you have to get close, then you need to be lethal and you need to be fast."

It's a war, Nilssen. You always have to be lethal. But the crunch of bone echoed in his mind and he flinched, bringing one hand up to his ear as if he could block the sound.

"Jelen!" barked the major. "Step forward."

Of course he'd seen it. Aleksander shoved past the other soldiers and stood in front of Nilssen. The major may have had a glare that rivaled a midday summer sun for harshness, but Aleksander was a head taller with broader shoulders and more muscle, so while most soldiers would have been cowed by this man's gaze, he simply let a half-smile flicker over his face.

The major's eyes narrowed. "Our resident moravskansk," he said, too low for the other soldiers to hear. "You might be the queen's pet, but you're on my training ground."

"Then why don't you train these men instead of wasting the day with talk?" Aleksander stepped closer to Nilssen, towering over him. "From all of my experience in killing your soldiers, I can say that you're not very effective."

If he were any other soldier, he would have been flogged for that statement, but being the queen's pet had its advantages. He would take them where he could get them.

Instead of the reaction Aleksander expected, Nilssen smiled. "Maybe you're right, Jelen. I think a training exercise is in order." To the soldiers, he said, "Jelen here has kindly agreed to participate in an exercise. You there, come here."

Twelve men in the front of the ranks stepped forward. Aleksander had an idea of what the major was going to do, but those men probably did not. He smiled inwardly.

"He's going to act as our enemy soldier," said Nilssen, giving Aleksander a look that clearly said that he didn't think it was an act, "and you are going to demonstrate how you would defeat him. Dahl and Sohlberg, you're first."

To Aleksander alone, he said, "Only your homeland's abilities. Disobey me and I will have grounds to whip you bloody."

The commander at Pevnost Dukovníka had once let him watch as he trained his hunting hounds. They had gone to a stockade, with a high wooden fence that blocked all visibility of what was inside... but he had been able to hear it, growling and scratching at the fence posts. The commander had brought his young hounds, yapping and baying, and he'd given Aleksander a small smile before opening a gate to the stockade.