ASHES OF BETRAYAL THE SORCERER'S VENGEANCE

CHAPTER 6

 "Before we move to the celebration feast, I find myself compelled to share a story. You see, looking at these young faces, these eager warriors ready to prove themselves, I'm reminded of my own induction into the Elite Squad many, many years ago."

This was unexpected. The king rarely spoke of his own days as a warrior. Kael leaned forward with a fascinated look on his face.

"I was, oh, about twenty years old.”

 Aldric began, stroking his beard thoughtfully. 

"Young, arrogant, absolutely convinced I was the greatest swordsman who'd ever lived. My father, Kael's grandfather, god rest his soul, had finally agreed to let me join the Elite Squad, though I suspect it was partly to humble me."

A few knowing chuckles rippled through the older guild members who'd served under the previous king.

"My first mission." 

Aldric continued, a smile playing at his lips.

“Was supposed to be simple. A group of bandits had been harassing merchants on the eastern road. Six bandits, they said. Maybe seven. Easy work for an Elite Squad of eight trained warriors, yes?”

Heads nodded throughout the room.

"So off we went, confident and ready for glory. I was so eager to prove myself that I volunteered to take points. I'd be the first to engage, the first to strike, the first to emerge victorious!" 

He paused for dramatic effect.

 "We found the bandit camp exactly where our intelligence said it would be. I drew my sword, it was this beautiful blade my father had given me, polished to a mirror shine and I charged forward with a war cry that probably scared away every bird for five miles."

Laughter began building in the audience. Kael found himself smiling despite not knowing where the story was going.

"I burst into that camp like a hero from the old legends." 

The king said, his voice rising with theatrical flair. 

"I was magnificent! I was unstoppable! I was…"

 He paused again, his expression shifting to mock embarrassment. 

"...immediately clotheslined by a washing line someone had strung between two trees."

The throne room exploded with laughter. Even the usually stern Guild Master Torin cracked a smile.

"Oh yes." 

Aldric continued over the laughter. 

"Twenty years old, the king's son, Elite Squad initiate, taken down by laundry. I went down so hard I saw stars. My beautiful polished sword went flying and landed directly in a pig trough. And the bandits?”

“They were so surprised by this idiot child running into their camp and immediately knocking himself unconscious that they just... stood there... staring."

More laughter. Kael was grinning so wide his face hurt.

"Fortunately." 

The king said, wiping at his eyes with mock distress, 

“My squadmates were actual professionals. They secured the camp while I lay there trying to remember my own name.”

“And when I finally got up, covered in mud and pig slop, my captain, a terrifying woman named Sergeant Ironheart, looked at me and said: 'Well, Your Highness, you certainly made an impression. The bandits surrendered out of pure secondhand embarrassment.'"

The room roared with laughter. Even Queen Seraphine was smiling, though Kael noticed it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"The point of this story."

 King Aldric said, raising his voice to be heard over the lingering chuckles.

 "Is that we all start somewhere? We all have moments of foolishness, moments where we fall flat on our faces, sometimes literally. What matters isn't the fall. What matters is getting back up, learning, growing, and becoming the warrior you're meant to be."

 His expression grew more serious, though warmth still lingered in his eyes. 

"These young people before you today will make mistakes. They'll have their own washing line moments. But they'll also achieve greatness. They'll protect this kingdom with their lives. And I, for one, am proud to serve alongside them.”

He raised his goblet again.

"To the Elite Squad! To the old guard and the new! To the future of our kingdom!"

"To the future!" 

Everyone echoed and drank deeply.

As the toast concluded, the king settled back into his throne and gestured to the musicians who'd been standing ready in the corner.

 "Now then, let us enjoy the celebration! Eat, drink, and be merry! The formal portion of today's ceremony is concluded!"

The transformation was immediate. The stiff formality that had permeated the throne room evaporated like morning mist. Musicians struck up a lively tune, drums, flutes, and stringed instruments blending into an energetic melody that made feet want to tap, and hands want to clap. 

Servants appeared as if from nowhere, rolling in carts laden with food and wine. Long tables that had been positioned along the walls were suddenly surrounded by hungry guild members.

Kael barely had time to stand before he was swarmed.

"Congratulations, lad!" 

A burly warrior with a scar across his nose clapped him on the back hard enough to make him stumble.

"Well done!" 

A female mage with intricate tattoos on her arms raised her glass to him.

"About time we got some fresh blood!" 

Another warrior, this one missing half an ear, grinned at him with genuine warmth.

The congratulations came from all sides, a blur of faces and voices and handshakes. Kael tried to respond to each one, to be polite and gracious, but there were so many people and they all wanted to shake his hand or offer advice or tell him stories about their own induction days.

Then the crowd parted, and Kael found himself face to face with Captain Marcus Valen.

The Elite Squad leader was even more imposing up close. He stood a full head taller than Kael, his broad shoulders blocking out the torchlight behind him. 

His red hair seemed to glow in the firelight, and his burning orange eyes studied Kael with an almost physical intensity.

For a long moment, Marcus said nothing. He simply stared, his expression unreadable. Kael felt his palms begin to sweat again. This was the man who would be his commander, the warrior he'd be taking orders from in life-or-death situations.

Then, slowly, Marcus's stern expression cracked into a smile. He extended his hand. 

"Welcome to the Elite Squad, Ashford. I've heard good things about your training progress from Master Rendall."

Relief flooded through Kael as he gripped Marcus's hand. The captain's handshake was firm, almost crushing, but not hostile.

 "Thank you, sir. I promise I won't let you down.”

"See that you don't." 

Marcus's smile didn't waver, but something in his eyes seemed cold, calculating. 

"We have high standards in the Elite Squad. Very high. Not everyone makes it through their first year. But I'm sure you'll…"

"Kael!"

The interruption came from behind him. Kael turned to find Lyanna pushing through the crowd, and his breath caught. She'd changed from the formal dress she'd worn during the ceremony into something more comfortable, a flowing blue gown that matched her eyes perfectly. 

But it was her expression that struck him most: flushed cheeks, bright eyes, and a slightly unsteady sway to her walk that suggested she'd been sampling the wine quite liberally.

"Kael!" 

She said again, louder this time, not seeming to care that she was interrupting his conversation with the captain. Her hand found his arm, fingers gripping with surprising strength.

 "There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Lyanna, I was just…"

 Kael gestured to Marcus, acutely aware of the impropriety of being interrupted.

But Lyanna either didn't notice or didn't care. She tugged at his arm insistently. 

"Come on, we need to talk. Right now. It's important."

"I'm in the middle of…"

"Right now, Kael."

 Her voice dropped to something that was almost a purr, and her eyes met his with an intensity that made his mouth go dry. Even through the wine-induced haze, there was something unmistakably intentional in that look.

Captain Marcus cleared his throat. When Kael looked back at him, the captain's expression was amused.

 "Go on, Ashford. We can continue this conversation later. Enjoy your celebration."

 The way he emphasised the word "enjoy" made Kael's cheeks heat.

"Thank you, sir. I…"

Lyanna didn't let him finish. She practically dragged him away from Marcus, weaving through the crowd with single-minded determination. Kael had no choice but to follow, mumbling apologies to the people they bumped into.

"Lyanna, where are we going? The celebration is…”