Page 106 of Beds and Blades

The garrison was beginning to fill. Soldiers crossed the yard with purpose.

I was watching the eastern drill.

Varia was watching Gaius. Again.

Gaius was working through a sword sequence near the far wall. I knew the sequence.

By then, I knew Gaius well. We had shared meals, patrols, and months of life inside Ely’s walls. He was entirely at ease with a blade and exceptionally good at ending fights—a fact I knew firsthand from the afternoon that Gaius killed both the sellsword and the vampire before either of them could kill me.

Varia’s attention followed him with considerably less tactical detachment than she believed she was displaying.

I took a drink from my flask.

“You could talk to him.”

“No.”

Her gaze remained fixed on the yard. Gaius completed the sequence, reset his stance, and began again.

“You have been watching him for two years,” I said. “At some point, observation becomes an inefficient substitute for action.”

“I am not observing him.”

“You know the exact sequence he performs before breakfast.”

“I know the training routines of the soldiers under my command.”

“You also know he rolls his sleeves twice when he is warm and three times when he is trying to impress someone.”

“I have never said that.”

“You did not need to.”

She returned her attention to the yard.

Gaius pivoted, brought the sword across his body, and stepped cleanly into the next strike. He did not perform for an audience. Varia had little patience for men who advertised their competence. Gaius possessed his without commentary.

“Go and talk to him,” I said again.

“No.”

“Ask him to eat with you.”

“No.”

“Ask him to train with you.”

“He already trains with me.”

“Ask him to train alone and not when twenty other soldiers are present.”

She looked annoyed.

“I do not know why you continue this,” she said.

“Because you like him.”

“That is not sufficient reason.”