The last of the soldiers left the armoury to take up position along the ramparts and in the courtyard, leaving Anik and Ren alone for a few, quiet moments. The silence before the storm.

Ren sat down on the nearest bench and stretched his legs. “I've known Niklas since we were children,” he said. The leather greaves were unfamiliar and tight around his calves. “I was so sure I could trust him. I've never had a reason not to. He's always had my back.”

“Rolling over for the Skarlan king,” Anik said, spitting on the ground and tugging on the straps of his leather breastplate. It was the only piece of protection he wore, a worn thing with faded engraved antlers along the top, sliced through by old cuts and scrapes. His sword was strapped to his hip, although they had no shields to spare. “It's disgusting. You don't betray the people you call your family.”

It was almost strange not to be the focus of Anik's insults for once, although Ren was sure he still had plenty to spare. Maybe Anik could sense his unease. No matter the reason, Ren appreciated it.

“The Skarlans are his family,” Ren said quietly. “He was born there.”

Anik shook his head. “Blood doesn't equal family.”

Taking a deep breath, Ren found that his hand shook as he closed it around the hilt of his brother's sword, a comforting presence at his side. “Do you think we'll be okay?”

“I don't know,” Anik said, taking a seat on the bench beside him. “Speculation is useless. All we can do is give it our best shot.”

“I'm terrible in a fight. You know that.”

Anik smiled a little. “Yeah, you are. Good thing you're also a prince and won't be on the front lines where all the real bad shit goes down. Just remember to keep your guard up and watch for arrows and I'm sure you'll be fine.”

Ren frowned. “Anik, I'm serious.”

“So am I. The men will keep you safe. It's not your job to hack and slash, it's your job to give orders and keep the fight under control.”

Meeting Anik's steady brown eyes, Ren suppressed a sigh. “I've never done that, either.”

Anik's laugh was quiet, a welcome sound. “I'll help you with that. Come on, get your ass off that bench. Your men are waiting.”

The fort was buzzing with activity as they left the armoury, even if their army was only a shadow of what it should have been. Two soldiers guarded Niklas, and with Ren and Anik added to the roster, they were still only twenty-nine souls. They'd be outnumbered almost four to one.

As Ren watched, soldiers moved into position, led by men who were led by him. Ren Frayne, the bastard prince, leading his first fight against Skarlans, during a Fraynean-Skarlan peace agreement, deep inside Fraynean territory.