1.4

After what seemed like an eternity, the man known as Logan broke eye contact from Cameron, turning to his father, his face taking on a more relaxed and friendly expression.

“Lord Pellyn, been a while. How have you been?” The man’s voice was grizzled and deep. Like war drums echoing across a field before a battle, he bled confidence and bravery with every syllable. He crossed the room, ignoring the dignitaries and approached the now standing King. They clasped wrists in a loud clap before Augustus pulled him into a hug. “I have missed you my friend.” He said. It’s been far too long since you were last planet-side.”

“My apologies, Lord Pellyn. Free-space keeps me busy. Luckily Markus had a contact in The Fleet that got a message to me. I’ll be sure to leave my captains code with you when I leave this time. Should be easier to communicate when I get the calls directly instead of secondhand.”

“I told you. Call me Augustus. You’ve earned it. And are you sure I can’t convince you to stick around? I’m sure we can find some use of your services.”

The man smiled and shook his head. “I doubt you could afford me, Augustus. Consider this service pro-bono, a gift to the new Seneschal. Speaking of..” He turned, his cold steel eyes meeting Cameron’s. The man examined him, sizing him up in his mind, speaking to Augustus while maintaining eye contact with Cameron. “Color me unimpressed.”

“I could say the same.” Cameron retorted, finally finding his voice. “Just who the hell are you, anyway?”

The man ignored Camerons question, his eyes looking past the boy, slowly rising to look at the wall behind him. Cameron turned to see what he was gazing at only to find an old mural, faded into the cracks of the walls. It depicted a battlefield. Bodies of men and mech strewn across the landscape battered, bruised, and broken. Standing in the center was a lone man, faceless, holding a golden sword high to the heavens. Behind him, stood his A.R.M.S. unit, towering above all others. Its helm matched the height of the mountains in the background as it too held a golden blade aloft; The first Seneschal of Ketris.

“Since the time of the second breaking,” Logan began, walking towards the mural and running his fingertips across the cracked stone.

“A Seneschal has stood for Ketris. A bulwark to protect the planet from all threats both domestic,” His eyes cut to two male ambassadors, “and off-world.”

Darwin was the first to speak, sputtering in the way politicians do when put into an awkward conversation.

“M-My Lord,” he began as he stood, face slightly flushed. “I can assure you that his majesty, Prince Lo’Dain has nothing but the most noble intentions in his solidarity with Ketris and queen Miranda.”

“Indeed,” Lendrick chimed in, jowls flapping as he spoke. “Though there have been some… tensions in our history, such is politics. It is in everyone’s best interest that we move past such petty grievances of our forebears and rule the system together, as originally ordained by the Mother Planet.”

Logan’s lips formed into a knowing smile as he walked back towards the table, standing next to Cameron with his arms clasped behind him.

“My apologies, gentlemen. I’m no dignitary, only a mere soldier. Old habits die hard as do old biases. It’s not my place to comment on the policies and alliances of a planet I’m no longer a citizen of. Besides…” He reached and clamped a hand on Cameron’s shoulder, causing the young scion to wince slightly. “I’m not here for you. I’m here for him.”

“This is Logan Rake.” Augustus Pellyn’s voice rang out, drawing the attention from everyone in the room. He was still standing, sweeping his arm in a grand gesture towards the man’s direction. “He was once the Captain of the Guard for the forces here in the capital. The man has protected the Pellyn family and the nation of Ketris until about ten years ago when he requested to leave planet side to go find his fortune in free-space. I requested his presence here to make sure my son is trained as well as he possibly can, to take on the role of Seneschal.

“Lucky me,” Cameron muttered sarcastically under his breath. He reached up to pry the man’s fingers off of him, but it was useless. The hand may as well have been welded on to him the way it refused to budge from any of his attempts to extricate himself.

“Lucky you indeed.” Logan replied, finally releasing his grip, looking down at him. “Now get up.”

“What for?”

Logan didn’t answer. He simply gave a bow to the table, before turning and walking to the outside veranda with a confident stride.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” Cameron, exclaimed as he stood up, taking a few steps to follow Logan before stopping out of curious frustration. “Where are we going?”

Logan stopped, his head tilted almost imperceptibly to the side as he called to him. “Outside… for an assessment.”

A few moments later, Cameron stood inside the red clay ring of the royal dueling ground. On one arm, a heavy wooden buckler was lashed tightly to his wrists. An iron sword hung limp in his left hand. He felt his fingers flexing and relaxing nervously as he looked out to where Logan stood, about five meters opposite him.

“Well, you got the look down.” Logan said as he twirled a mace effortlessly in his right hand while stamping a heavy tower shield into the dirt with his left.

“Let’s see if you know how to use 'em.”

It hadn’t taken much convincing on Logan’s part for Augustus to agree to an impromptu exhibition. He and the other dignitaries stood off to the side watching, waiting, and judging Cameron from the very moment he took the field.

“Ya know, this doesn’t exactly seem fair.” Cameron said, beginning the slow dance of circling logan. He scanned the man for points of weakness, or openings to attack as he continued to complain.

“A veteran merc facing off against some snot-nosed prince who’s barely won a tournament. I’m a little outclassed here, wouldn’t you say?”

“Since when has war ever been fair?” Logan retorted, turning his shield in time with Cameron’s movements. His body was tense and tight like a coiled spring, ready to explode forth at any moment, yet his face showed the same calm, dispassionate demeanor as he had when first walking into the throne room.

“Fair,” Cameron said. “But when has war ever only comprised two fighters?”

Logan chuckled softly as he spoke, “Kid… When it comes to killing,” he lowered his center of gravity, the spring coiling tighter. “The only war that matters is the one you survive.”

With that, he launched himself forward, pushing off with his back foot hard enough to crack the dirt. He was on Cameron in a heartbeat, bringing his mace down in three concussive blows that the boy barely had time to block with his shield.

“Ack! What the hell man?!” Cameron cried out, his bones tingling painfully, suffering from the aftershocks of Logan’s opening barrage.

“This is an exhibition you psycho not a deathmatch!” He lowered his shoulder and batted away Logan’s next swing. Seeing his opening, Cameron pushed his shield into Logan’s stomach, using his bodyweight to push him back. The man didn’t move an inch. Instead, Logan countered by taking his front leg and kicked Cameron below the knee, causing him to stagger forward. He then mashed the butt of his mace into the prince’s stomach while growling indignantly.

“War isn’t an exhibition kid! Now shut up and fight or die like a dog!” He kicked Cameron’s knee again, this time at the joint, making it buckle and sending him toppling forward. Cameron, for his part, shoulder rolled into the fall, causing Logan’s follow up swing to miss, making the studs of the mace kick up dust as they buried themselves into the dirt. He capitalized on his opponent’s loss of momentum, going on the offensive. He stepped into Logan’s guard, stabbing low in between the sliver of space that separated the man’s body from the large tower shield.

“Good,” Logan said under his breath as he back stepped the attempt, releasing his grasp on the shield. He smiled, remembering the last time he had fallen for that trick, his eyes cutting to the boy’s servant before snapping back to stare Cameron in the eyes. He shot his hand out, trapping Cameron’s wrist in a vice-like grip.

“Glad Markus could make you somewhat competent, but there’s still an important lesson you need to learn.” He said with a grin, much to Cameron’s frustration.

“And what’s that you freak?” The boy snapped back in response, trying his damndest to free himself.

Logan’s grin widened. “How to improvise.”

With that, he yanked hard on Cameron’s wrist with all of his might, causing the boys head to smash into the hard of his tower shield. Cameron’s last thoughts were filled with frustration and anger as everything went black.

Cameron had only been out for a few minutes before a firm palm met his cheek, sending a jolt of fresh pain to wake him up with a start.

“Gah! Fucking stop it!” He yelled, as he sat up, clutching his cheek while looking up at a smirking Logan.

“Well, good morning your highness. Did you enjoy your little nap?”

“No, I did not ENJOY MY LITTLE NAP!” Cameron shouted as he got to his feet. His fist were balled in fury, his pale face turning red with unsuppressed anger. The sight didn’t seem to bother Logan one bit. He simply looked at the prince, raising an eyebrow as his smirk widened.

“Well, someone’s cranky.”

Cameron growled in frustration, running his fingers through his mop of black hair, his ice-blue eyes bulging in a mixture of disbelief and fury.

“You think it’s okay to just go around knocking out random people?!” He asked, exasperated.

“I didn’t knock out a random person,” Logan retorted, nonplussed.

“OH! You’re right! How silly of me. Even more so, why?! I’m a scion of Ketris damn it!”

“Then how about you start acting like one?” Logan said, all humor leaving his tone, staring Cameron down with hard and unforgiving eyes. He jammed a finger into his chest hard enough to cause the boy to stagger slightly.

“You’re so quick to play the noble card when you feel wronged, yet according to Marcus and your father, you could give a shit less when it comes to the duties of your station. Now, I don’t know why you’re so dismissive about helping to lead a planet that is your birthright, and I don’t care. What I do care about is doing the job I’ve been paid to do; Prepare you as best I can to take the mantle of seneschal, whether you like it or not.”

Cameron stood there in silence, his anger slowly fading away, simmering to a low boil of frustration and shame. He chewed at his lip, looking anywhere but at Logan.

“You don’t know me.” He said, finally speaking a soft whisper. Logan’s face didn’t change, though he acknowledged the boy’s words with a curt nod.

“You’re right. I don’t. But that doesn’t matter. I don’t care who you are, Cameron. I don’t care about your station, or about the people watching us off to the sidelines right now. All I care about is the task I’m paid to do. Anything else is just an extra variable. And I hate variables.”

Logan’s words cut through the air with a detached coldness that caused Cameron’s mind to finally settle. His anger was gone completely. He didn’t see a point in it anymore. He looked up meeting Logan’s eyes as they both stared in an awkward silence for a moment before the sound of a throat being cleared broke both men from their ocular standoff.

“Master Pellyn, Master Rake,” Marcus spoke up, causing the pair to turn and look at him. He was standing alone, his arms behind his back respectfully. Augustus Pellyn and the dignitaries were slowly making their way back inside, silently discussing something amongst themselves that Cameron couldn’t quite make out. That didn’t stop him from noticing the looks that were thrown his way from Lendrick and Darwin. They almost seemed… happy? It was hard to tell the intent of their smirks and nods in the dimming dusk of the evening.

“Perhaps it is time that we call an end to this exhibition. It’s almost time for dinner to be served after all. Will you be eating with us tonight Master Rake?”

“Of course. I’m starving. Teaching always builds an appetite after all.” He said, walking off the field to join Marcus who turned to meet Cameron’s eyes.

“Master Pellyn what about-”

“Not. Hungry.” He said. With a sigh, he walked off the field, passing the two men as he jogged up the steps leading up to the door that took him inside the palace.

Marcus sighed as he watched the door slam, echoing in the silence of the early evening.

“My friend… I believe you have made quite the impression on young Cameron.”

Logan smiled softly, eyes still locked on the door. “Oh, I haven’t even started yet.”