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It was another day that would see Maleos dealing with Silanos. At first it had been sort of fun for him, knocking the spoiled brat around and showing him that outside of his title, he had nothing. Now? It was a nuisance. Maleos had more important things to worry about than Silanos, and he would rather not have to spend his time babysitting. He was sure that Silanos would much rather have this done and over with as well, but unfortunately for both of them, Timaeus did not yet think that Silanos had learned his lesson. And so here they were, another day spent together, despising each other’s company.
This time Maleos had chosen not to have his men involved in this. There was no reason that they should have their proper training interrupted because of Sil. He had left Daxos in charge of the daily drills, the man knew them as well as Maleos himself, and if he were to get that promotion to Lieutenant like they both wanted, he would need to know how to lead. He trusted that Daxos could handle the days work for the men of the unit.
That left Maleos alone in the courtyard, his trusted sword in his hand. The men of the unit were off-site, doing their training else where as they often did. Maleos liked to change the location of their drills, they needed to be used to combat and movement over any kind of terrain that could be found in Greece. He was wearing just a plain chiton at the moment, an attempt to keep a bit cooler as he practiced his techniques against a wooden opponent.
He had been feeling a bit nicer that day, Silanos had been taking quite the beatings during his time there and had been barred from having any wine while he was under Maleos’ care. He knew it was a completely different lifestyle to the one the Lord was used to. It was still early morning, but not as early as he normally would have woken Silanos. Mostly, Maleos just wanted a little time to himself before dealing with his best friends’ brother.
But now that time was over, and Maleos had sent one of the slaves for Silanos. The Lord was to report to the courtyard immediately and would begin his sword training with Maleos. The Captain thought it was absolutely unacceptable that Silanos didn’t even know any basic combat skills. The Lord was about as useful in a fight as a new born baby would be. He was determined that if he was going to teach him at least one thing, it would be how to defend himself and others in case of an emergency.
With everything that had happened recently, it was good for every man to at least know what to do with a sword.
He finished the combat scenario that had been playing in his head, lowering his sword. Sweat dripped down his skin, and he wiped it off his forehead with the back of his hand, repositioning himself to attack the dummy again. He paused for a moment, lost in his thoughts for a short while as they turned once more to Leto. It seemed his mind liked to wander to her lately.
The look on her face after the chamber doors had been broken down, the terror he could see in her eyes. He still thought about the way her voice had slightly faltered as she spoke to him. The idea of her being put in such a position, of being so shaken up, stirred a mixture of dread and anger inside him, along with a strong want to protect her from any such thing in the future.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts, it was not his place. He was sure if even she cared for him as he cared for her, her brother would never let her marry him. Who was Maleos? A man of common blood, no noble name to make him worthy nor desirable.
He took a deep breath and gripped the hilt of his sword a little tighter, throwing his frustrations into his next flurry of attacks on the poor wooden dummy. The anger and power behind the swing of his sword smashed the wood into pieces, leaving a half together dummy in his wake, wood splinters and larger pieces littered the courtyard around the dummy. Maleos was breathing heavily, staring at the smashed wood, just letting his feelings linger for a while. He found it easier to push those feelings back in front of others if he could take them out with his sword while in private. He had all but forgotten that Silanos was even supposed to be on his way, lost among his thoughts of everything that had been happening recently.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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It was another day that would see Maleos dealing with Silanos. At first it had been sort of fun for him, knocking the spoiled brat around and showing him that outside of his title, he had nothing. Now? It was a nuisance. Maleos had more important things to worry about than Silanos, and he would rather not have to spend his time babysitting. He was sure that Silanos would much rather have this done and over with as well, but unfortunately for both of them, Timaeus did not yet think that Silanos had learned his lesson. And so here they were, another day spent together, despising each other’s company.
This time Maleos had chosen not to have his men involved in this. There was no reason that they should have their proper training interrupted because of Sil. He had left Daxos in charge of the daily drills, the man knew them as well as Maleos himself, and if he were to get that promotion to Lieutenant like they both wanted, he would need to know how to lead. He trusted that Daxos could handle the days work for the men of the unit.
That left Maleos alone in the courtyard, his trusted sword in his hand. The men of the unit were off-site, doing their training else where as they often did. Maleos liked to change the location of their drills, they needed to be used to combat and movement over any kind of terrain that could be found in Greece. He was wearing just a plain chiton at the moment, an attempt to keep a bit cooler as he practiced his techniques against a wooden opponent.
He had been feeling a bit nicer that day, Silanos had been taking quite the beatings during his time there and had been barred from having any wine while he was under Maleos’ care. He knew it was a completely different lifestyle to the one the Lord was used to. It was still early morning, but not as early as he normally would have woken Silanos. Mostly, Maleos just wanted a little time to himself before dealing with his best friends’ brother.
But now that time was over, and Maleos had sent one of the slaves for Silanos. The Lord was to report to the courtyard immediately and would begin his sword training with Maleos. The Captain thought it was absolutely unacceptable that Silanos didn’t even know any basic combat skills. The Lord was about as useful in a fight as a new born baby would be. He was determined that if he was going to teach him at least one thing, it would be how to defend himself and others in case of an emergency.
With everything that had happened recently, it was good for every man to at least know what to do with a sword.
He finished the combat scenario that had been playing in his head, lowering his sword. Sweat dripped down his skin, and he wiped it off his forehead with the back of his hand, repositioning himself to attack the dummy again. He paused for a moment, lost in his thoughts for a short while as they turned once more to Leto. It seemed his mind liked to wander to her lately.
The look on her face after the chamber doors had been broken down, the terror he could see in her eyes. He still thought about the way her voice had slightly faltered as she spoke to him. The idea of her being put in such a position, of being so shaken up, stirred a mixture of dread and anger inside him, along with a strong want to protect her from any such thing in the future.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts, it was not his place. He was sure if even she cared for him as he cared for her, her brother would never let her marry him. Who was Maleos? A man of common blood, no noble name to make him worthy nor desirable.
He took a deep breath and gripped the hilt of his sword a little tighter, throwing his frustrations into his next flurry of attacks on the poor wooden dummy. The anger and power behind the swing of his sword smashed the wood into pieces, leaving a half together dummy in his wake, wood splinters and larger pieces littered the courtyard around the dummy. Maleos was breathing heavily, staring at the smashed wood, just letting his feelings linger for a while. He found it easier to push those feelings back in front of others if he could take them out with his sword while in private. He had all but forgotten that Silanos was even supposed to be on his way, lost among his thoughts of everything that had been happening recently.
It was another day that would see Maleos dealing with Silanos. At first it had been sort of fun for him, knocking the spoiled brat around and showing him that outside of his title, he had nothing. Now? It was a nuisance. Maleos had more important things to worry about than Silanos, and he would rather not have to spend his time babysitting. He was sure that Silanos would much rather have this done and over with as well, but unfortunately for both of them, Timaeus did not yet think that Silanos had learned his lesson. And so here they were, another day spent together, despising each other’s company.
This time Maleos had chosen not to have his men involved in this. There was no reason that they should have their proper training interrupted because of Sil. He had left Daxos in charge of the daily drills, the man knew them as well as Maleos himself, and if he were to get that promotion to Lieutenant like they both wanted, he would need to know how to lead. He trusted that Daxos could handle the days work for the men of the unit.
That left Maleos alone in the courtyard, his trusted sword in his hand. The men of the unit were off-site, doing their training else where as they often did. Maleos liked to change the location of their drills, they needed to be used to combat and movement over any kind of terrain that could be found in Greece. He was wearing just a plain chiton at the moment, an attempt to keep a bit cooler as he practiced his techniques against a wooden opponent.
He had been feeling a bit nicer that day, Silanos had been taking quite the beatings during his time there and had been barred from having any wine while he was under Maleos’ care. He knew it was a completely different lifestyle to the one the Lord was used to. It was still early morning, but not as early as he normally would have woken Silanos. Mostly, Maleos just wanted a little time to himself before dealing with his best friends’ brother.
But now that time was over, and Maleos had sent one of the slaves for Silanos. The Lord was to report to the courtyard immediately and would begin his sword training with Maleos. The Captain thought it was absolutely unacceptable that Silanos didn’t even know any basic combat skills. The Lord was about as useful in a fight as a new born baby would be. He was determined that if he was going to teach him at least one thing, it would be how to defend himself and others in case of an emergency.
With everything that had happened recently, it was good for every man to at least know what to do with a sword.
He finished the combat scenario that had been playing in his head, lowering his sword. Sweat dripped down his skin, and he wiped it off his forehead with the back of his hand, repositioning himself to attack the dummy again. He paused for a moment, lost in his thoughts for a short while as they turned once more to Leto. It seemed his mind liked to wander to her lately.
The look on her face after the chamber doors had been broken down, the terror he could see in her eyes. He still thought about the way her voice had slightly faltered as she spoke to him. The idea of her being put in such a position, of being so shaken up, stirred a mixture of dread and anger inside him, along with a strong want to protect her from any such thing in the future.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts, it was not his place. He was sure if even she cared for him as he cared for her, her brother would never let her marry him. Who was Maleos? A man of common blood, no noble name to make him worthy nor desirable.
He took a deep breath and gripped the hilt of his sword a little tighter, throwing his frustrations into his next flurry of attacks on the poor wooden dummy. The anger and power behind the swing of his sword smashed the wood into pieces, leaving a half together dummy in his wake, wood splinters and larger pieces littered the courtyard around the dummy. Maleos was breathing heavily, staring at the smashed wood, just letting his feelings linger for a while. He found it easier to push those feelings back in front of others if he could take them out with his sword while in private. He had all but forgotten that Silanos was even supposed to be on his way, lost among his thoughts of everything that had been happening recently.
Silanos did not know what he had done to earn the reprieve of a slightly later wake up call but he was glad of it. The week that he’d been forced into training had been hard on him; he wasn’t used to hard physical demands like those being made of him and denied his usual vices, sleep was even more of a demon to him.
He was exhausted when he finished whatever torture the day threw at him, but then dreaded falling asleep because he couldn’t drink himself into unconsciousness first. He’d run out of poppy too, and had endured a horrible couple of days where he thought he was sickening for something, struggling through drills with a sniffly nose and watery eyes. He ached pretty much all the time now, if not just from exertion then from the various knocks and blows he received, but Silanos had almost given up moaning about it.
Oh he’d tried in the beginning. He’d yelled and complained and told Timaeus exactly what he thought of this intervention of his But his brother had been as inflexible as the stone of his barony, and just used it against Sil, citing his lack of discipline as one of the very reasons for the exercise. And then their cousin Iolanthe had come to visit, and whether it was because he was exhausted or being self-indulgent, but he’d somehow ended up just blurting everything out to her. All of it, the whole long list, and actually saying it all out loud, in the same conversation, well it had shocked him a little bit.
He hadn’t realised his list of misdemeanours had gotten quite so long in so short a space of time, and he’d been able to tell from the look on Iolanthe’s face what a terrible picture it painted.
It was no wonder Timaeus was sick of him.
And so much as Sil despised all of it, much as he wanted to climb out of his fucking window and run off back to Taengea, he shut the fuck up and just did as he was told for once. He got up and went to the barracks, got used to being dropped on the sand more times than he could count and even tried to bite his tongue and not snipe back at Daxos or Maleos too much. It was fucking miserable. And when the aforementioned horse’s ass of a Captain had insisted that Silanos would benefit more if he were to reside at the barracks, the young Lord had only thrown a couple of things in protest. He was trying.
As he shambled into the courtyard, half awake and already wishing the day was done, Sil registered properly for the first time that the barracks were empty, wondering blearily what that meant for him. And it was the sound of wood splintering that drew his eyes over to the far corner, where he could see Maleos standing in front of now broken dummy, seemingly oblivious to his presence. Oh Joy A little one on one time with the Captain, lucky him.
His brother’s friend had left him under no illusion as to how little he thought of Silanos, and Sil resented his sanctimonious attitude and the fact that he was pretty sure Maleos enjoyed making him miserable. It was safe to say neither of them were happy to be thrown together as often as they were currently.
The Valaoritis Lord hung back a few moments, because finding the will to actually go and engage with the taciturn Captain was no small feat, before he eventually walked over and paused a few feet away, clearing his throat to announce his presence. Judging by the state of the dummy, the man was not in the best of moods.
“Morning” Sil offered, with an effort towards courtesy, the “..Captain.” added sluggishly on to the end. He struggled with that, given that his own title had been so summarily set aside by the man in this process. But he’d also learnt that sometimes, it wasn’t worth the sniping once he’d run an extra lap for the satisfaction of it.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Silanos did not know what he had done to earn the reprieve of a slightly later wake up call but he was glad of it. The week that he’d been forced into training had been hard on him; he wasn’t used to hard physical demands like those being made of him and denied his usual vices, sleep was even more of a demon to him.
He was exhausted when he finished whatever torture the day threw at him, but then dreaded falling asleep because he couldn’t drink himself into unconsciousness first. He’d run out of poppy too, and had endured a horrible couple of days where he thought he was sickening for something, struggling through drills with a sniffly nose and watery eyes. He ached pretty much all the time now, if not just from exertion then from the various knocks and blows he received, but Silanos had almost given up moaning about it.
Oh he’d tried in the beginning. He’d yelled and complained and told Timaeus exactly what he thought of this intervention of his But his brother had been as inflexible as the stone of his barony, and just used it against Sil, citing his lack of discipline as one of the very reasons for the exercise. And then their cousin Iolanthe had come to visit, and whether it was because he was exhausted or being self-indulgent, but he’d somehow ended up just blurting everything out to her. All of it, the whole long list, and actually saying it all out loud, in the same conversation, well it had shocked him a little bit.
He hadn’t realised his list of misdemeanours had gotten quite so long in so short a space of time, and he’d been able to tell from the look on Iolanthe’s face what a terrible picture it painted.
It was no wonder Timaeus was sick of him.
And so much as Sil despised all of it, much as he wanted to climb out of his fucking window and run off back to Taengea, he shut the fuck up and just did as he was told for once. He got up and went to the barracks, got used to being dropped on the sand more times than he could count and even tried to bite his tongue and not snipe back at Daxos or Maleos too much. It was fucking miserable. And when the aforementioned horse’s ass of a Captain had insisted that Silanos would benefit more if he were to reside at the barracks, the young Lord had only thrown a couple of things in protest. He was trying.
As he shambled into the courtyard, half awake and already wishing the day was done, Sil registered properly for the first time that the barracks were empty, wondering blearily what that meant for him. And it was the sound of wood splintering that drew his eyes over to the far corner, where he could see Maleos standing in front of now broken dummy, seemingly oblivious to his presence. Oh Joy A little one on one time with the Captain, lucky him.
His brother’s friend had left him under no illusion as to how little he thought of Silanos, and Sil resented his sanctimonious attitude and the fact that he was pretty sure Maleos enjoyed making him miserable. It was safe to say neither of them were happy to be thrown together as often as they were currently.
The Valaoritis Lord hung back a few moments, because finding the will to actually go and engage with the taciturn Captain was no small feat, before he eventually walked over and paused a few feet away, clearing his throat to announce his presence. Judging by the state of the dummy, the man was not in the best of moods.
“Morning” Sil offered, with an effort towards courtesy, the “..Captain.” added sluggishly on to the end. He struggled with that, given that his own title had been so summarily set aside by the man in this process. But he’d also learnt that sometimes, it wasn’t worth the sniping once he’d run an extra lap for the satisfaction of it.
Silanos did not know what he had done to earn the reprieve of a slightly later wake up call but he was glad of it. The week that he’d been forced into training had been hard on him; he wasn’t used to hard physical demands like those being made of him and denied his usual vices, sleep was even more of a demon to him.
He was exhausted when he finished whatever torture the day threw at him, but then dreaded falling asleep because he couldn’t drink himself into unconsciousness first. He’d run out of poppy too, and had endured a horrible couple of days where he thought he was sickening for something, struggling through drills with a sniffly nose and watery eyes. He ached pretty much all the time now, if not just from exertion then from the various knocks and blows he received, but Silanos had almost given up moaning about it.
Oh he’d tried in the beginning. He’d yelled and complained and told Timaeus exactly what he thought of this intervention of his But his brother had been as inflexible as the stone of his barony, and just used it against Sil, citing his lack of discipline as one of the very reasons for the exercise. And then their cousin Iolanthe had come to visit, and whether it was because he was exhausted or being self-indulgent, but he’d somehow ended up just blurting everything out to her. All of it, the whole long list, and actually saying it all out loud, in the same conversation, well it had shocked him a little bit.
He hadn’t realised his list of misdemeanours had gotten quite so long in so short a space of time, and he’d been able to tell from the look on Iolanthe’s face what a terrible picture it painted.
It was no wonder Timaeus was sick of him.
And so much as Sil despised all of it, much as he wanted to climb out of his fucking window and run off back to Taengea, he shut the fuck up and just did as he was told for once. He got up and went to the barracks, got used to being dropped on the sand more times than he could count and even tried to bite his tongue and not snipe back at Daxos or Maleos too much. It was fucking miserable. And when the aforementioned horse’s ass of a Captain had insisted that Silanos would benefit more if he were to reside at the barracks, the young Lord had only thrown a couple of things in protest. He was trying.
As he shambled into the courtyard, half awake and already wishing the day was done, Sil registered properly for the first time that the barracks were empty, wondering blearily what that meant for him. And it was the sound of wood splintering that drew his eyes over to the far corner, where he could see Maleos standing in front of now broken dummy, seemingly oblivious to his presence. Oh Joy A little one on one time with the Captain, lucky him.
His brother’s friend had left him under no illusion as to how little he thought of Silanos, and Sil resented his sanctimonious attitude and the fact that he was pretty sure Maleos enjoyed making him miserable. It was safe to say neither of them were happy to be thrown together as often as they were currently.
The Valaoritis Lord hung back a few moments, because finding the will to actually go and engage with the taciturn Captain was no small feat, before he eventually walked over and paused a few feet away, clearing his throat to announce his presence. Judging by the state of the dummy, the man was not in the best of moods.
“Morning” Sil offered, with an effort towards courtesy, the “..Captain.” added sluggishly on to the end. He struggled with that, given that his own title had been so summarily set aside by the man in this process. But he’d also learnt that sometimes, it wasn’t worth the sniping once he’d run an extra lap for the satisfaction of it.
The Captain, lost in his thoughts, hadn’t even noticed Silanos’ approach until the man made a noise intended to pull him out of his own mind and back into the present. He looked up from the shattered wood and what meaning it held, pushing his own turmoil down inside once more, to be dealt with at a later date, or perhaps not at all.
It seemed Silanos was starting to come around, or at least learning to play along if he ever wanted to be out from under Maleos’ command. He could remember only a few days ago, when Silanos refused to call him Captain, and was quickly put in his place for disrespect to his commanding officer. Lessons that needed to be learned and would hopefully stick with him outside of this experience, though Maleos doubted the man cared. His assumption was that Silanos was just playing along, hoping to be released from his obligations here so he could return to doing exactly what he did best.
In the end, Maleos didn’t care one way or another if he truly learned the lessons he was trying to teach. He was doing this as a favour for his friend and Baron, and as long as Timaeus knew that Maleos had done all he could to turn his brother into some semblance of a man, that was what was important. Whether or not Silanos took in the lessons he taught him was not something he could control.
“Good morning.” He replied, leaving out the usual nicknames he was calling him when he first got there. As more respect was shown to him, Maleos would show more respect to Silanos. He added Maleos’ title to his greeting, though by the sounds of it, not happily, and so Maleos would spare him the insults until he deserved them.
“Daxos and the others are running drills elsewhere.” He stated, Silanos by now must have realized that the two were alone in the barracks, save for a few slaves. He stepped away from the splintered wood, walking over to a wooden crate by one of the walls of the courtyard, and one of the slaves hurried over to start cleaning the wood off the ground. Maleos flipped the lid of the crate off and grabbed one of the training swords from inside, grabbing a lighter one since he knew that Silanos wasn’t the strongest of men.
He held the weapon out to him in offer, hilt first so he could grab it without hurting himself. Once Sil had taken the weapon from him, he repositioned his own sword in his hand.
“You are no soldier, that much is clear to both of us, but there is no reason that you shouldn’t be able to do more than cower like a child when innocent women and children are at risk.” He said, remembering how Silanos was found with Leto and a few other women, cowering behind the guards and Maleos. He thought it was the most pathetic thing he had seen.
The Lord definitely shouldn’t have been on the front line, but he should have at least shown some sort of bravery and stood to protect the women should anyone have made it through the guards. His thought briefly turned to Leto once more, conjuring an image of the young girl he had once known, brandishing a sword with such confidence and excitement. He thought her better suited to this training than Silanos, she would be a much better student than this excuse for a man.
“Lets start by testing your skills, if you have any. I want you to come at me, as if your life depends on it.” He said, shifting his feet so he stood ready to defend against any attacks thrown his way. His plan was not to hurt Silanos in any way, aside from perhaps knocking the weapon from his hands or knocking him on his ass. Today he genuinely wished to teach the Lord a skill that may prove to be useful in the future. At least if he were able to wield a sword with any basic sort of skill, he at least stood some sort of chance should a situation arise where he found himself facing potential combat.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The Captain, lost in his thoughts, hadn’t even noticed Silanos’ approach until the man made a noise intended to pull him out of his own mind and back into the present. He looked up from the shattered wood and what meaning it held, pushing his own turmoil down inside once more, to be dealt with at a later date, or perhaps not at all.
It seemed Silanos was starting to come around, or at least learning to play along if he ever wanted to be out from under Maleos’ command. He could remember only a few days ago, when Silanos refused to call him Captain, and was quickly put in his place for disrespect to his commanding officer. Lessons that needed to be learned and would hopefully stick with him outside of this experience, though Maleos doubted the man cared. His assumption was that Silanos was just playing along, hoping to be released from his obligations here so he could return to doing exactly what he did best.
In the end, Maleos didn’t care one way or another if he truly learned the lessons he was trying to teach. He was doing this as a favour for his friend and Baron, and as long as Timaeus knew that Maleos had done all he could to turn his brother into some semblance of a man, that was what was important. Whether or not Silanos took in the lessons he taught him was not something he could control.
“Good morning.” He replied, leaving out the usual nicknames he was calling him when he first got there. As more respect was shown to him, Maleos would show more respect to Silanos. He added Maleos’ title to his greeting, though by the sounds of it, not happily, and so Maleos would spare him the insults until he deserved them.
“Daxos and the others are running drills elsewhere.” He stated, Silanos by now must have realized that the two were alone in the barracks, save for a few slaves. He stepped away from the splintered wood, walking over to a wooden crate by one of the walls of the courtyard, and one of the slaves hurried over to start cleaning the wood off the ground. Maleos flipped the lid of the crate off and grabbed one of the training swords from inside, grabbing a lighter one since he knew that Silanos wasn’t the strongest of men.
He held the weapon out to him in offer, hilt first so he could grab it without hurting himself. Once Sil had taken the weapon from him, he repositioned his own sword in his hand.
“You are no soldier, that much is clear to both of us, but there is no reason that you shouldn’t be able to do more than cower like a child when innocent women and children are at risk.” He said, remembering how Silanos was found with Leto and a few other women, cowering behind the guards and Maleos. He thought it was the most pathetic thing he had seen.
The Lord definitely shouldn’t have been on the front line, but he should have at least shown some sort of bravery and stood to protect the women should anyone have made it through the guards. His thought briefly turned to Leto once more, conjuring an image of the young girl he had once known, brandishing a sword with such confidence and excitement. He thought her better suited to this training than Silanos, she would be a much better student than this excuse for a man.
“Lets start by testing your skills, if you have any. I want you to come at me, as if your life depends on it.” He said, shifting his feet so he stood ready to defend against any attacks thrown his way. His plan was not to hurt Silanos in any way, aside from perhaps knocking the weapon from his hands or knocking him on his ass. Today he genuinely wished to teach the Lord a skill that may prove to be useful in the future. At least if he were able to wield a sword with any basic sort of skill, he at least stood some sort of chance should a situation arise where he found himself facing potential combat.
The Captain, lost in his thoughts, hadn’t even noticed Silanos’ approach until the man made a noise intended to pull him out of his own mind and back into the present. He looked up from the shattered wood and what meaning it held, pushing his own turmoil down inside once more, to be dealt with at a later date, or perhaps not at all.
It seemed Silanos was starting to come around, or at least learning to play along if he ever wanted to be out from under Maleos’ command. He could remember only a few days ago, when Silanos refused to call him Captain, and was quickly put in his place for disrespect to his commanding officer. Lessons that needed to be learned and would hopefully stick with him outside of this experience, though Maleos doubted the man cared. His assumption was that Silanos was just playing along, hoping to be released from his obligations here so he could return to doing exactly what he did best.
In the end, Maleos didn’t care one way or another if he truly learned the lessons he was trying to teach. He was doing this as a favour for his friend and Baron, and as long as Timaeus knew that Maleos had done all he could to turn his brother into some semblance of a man, that was what was important. Whether or not Silanos took in the lessons he taught him was not something he could control.
“Good morning.” He replied, leaving out the usual nicknames he was calling him when he first got there. As more respect was shown to him, Maleos would show more respect to Silanos. He added Maleos’ title to his greeting, though by the sounds of it, not happily, and so Maleos would spare him the insults until he deserved them.
“Daxos and the others are running drills elsewhere.” He stated, Silanos by now must have realized that the two were alone in the barracks, save for a few slaves. He stepped away from the splintered wood, walking over to a wooden crate by one of the walls of the courtyard, and one of the slaves hurried over to start cleaning the wood off the ground. Maleos flipped the lid of the crate off and grabbed one of the training swords from inside, grabbing a lighter one since he knew that Silanos wasn’t the strongest of men.
He held the weapon out to him in offer, hilt first so he could grab it without hurting himself. Once Sil had taken the weapon from him, he repositioned his own sword in his hand.
“You are no soldier, that much is clear to both of us, but there is no reason that you shouldn’t be able to do more than cower like a child when innocent women and children are at risk.” He said, remembering how Silanos was found with Leto and a few other women, cowering behind the guards and Maleos. He thought it was the most pathetic thing he had seen.
The Lord definitely shouldn’t have been on the front line, but he should have at least shown some sort of bravery and stood to protect the women should anyone have made it through the guards. His thought briefly turned to Leto once more, conjuring an image of the young girl he had once known, brandishing a sword with such confidence and excitement. He thought her better suited to this training than Silanos, she would be a much better student than this excuse for a man.
“Lets start by testing your skills, if you have any. I want you to come at me, as if your life depends on it.” He said, shifting his feet so he stood ready to defend against any attacks thrown his way. His plan was not to hurt Silanos in any way, aside from perhaps knocking the weapon from his hands or knocking him on his ass. Today he genuinely wished to teach the Lord a skill that may prove to be useful in the future. At least if he were able to wield a sword with any basic sort of skill, he at least stood some sort of chance should a situation arise where he found himself facing potential combat.
Silanos had noticed the absence of other soldiers, and he was watching Maleos warily as they exchanged a rather stiff greeting. The Captain was not wrong in that the younger Valaoritis Lord was beginning to see that he was just making things harder for himself in being stubborn, and had learned that biting his tongue was better than the alternative sometimes. But Sil was, in his mind, also making a great effort not to give reason for any bad reports to make their way back to his brother. Despite the fact that Timaeus was an insufferable tyrant when he wanted to be, Silanos had come to see that perhaps his older sibling had just reached the end of his patience. Maybe Sil just needed to play nicely for a little while and let the dust settle.
So, he waited and tried his best not to look as miserable as he felt when Maleos walked away to retrieve a practice sword, reaching for it with a brief glance down at the shorter man as he offered it across. There was a slight narrowing of the Lord’s gaze as the Captain spoke, and Silanos was quick to offer up a defense “I wasn’t armed if you recall correctly. And no, as you helpfully pointed out, I’m not a soldier. That’s your job. Captain.”
Oh dear. And things had started off so well Sil thought, shooting Maleos a dirty look. He was still less than amused about how that night had ended. Getting doused in wine at such a public event was not that bad, but Silanos was more annoyed about the fact that he had been trying to be nice to the Lady Imeeya. It was a touchy subject.
He was also a little insulted. It wasn’t as if the lord had never picked up a sword before. In fact, when he was younger -maybe quite a lot a younger- his tutor had said he was a stylish swordsman. He just..didn’t practice. And he was smart enough to know that this was going to end up another pride bruising exercise as Maleos invited him to attack. With a bored sort of sigh, Silanos took up a double-handed grip upon the sword, stepped back a little and weighed his opponent.
It had been a while, admittedly, since he’d properly sparred with anyone, and he tried to remember those things he’d been taught so as not to make himself look a complete imbecile. He readied the blade before him, eyed Maleos before throwing his weight forward behind a high blow leveled to come down upon the Captain’s head. It was not a complicated strike, nor a particularly powerful one, but Sil was, at least, reasonably quick on his feet, stepping to the side so as to present a smaller target to his opponent.
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Silanos had noticed the absence of other soldiers, and he was watching Maleos warily as they exchanged a rather stiff greeting. The Captain was not wrong in that the younger Valaoritis Lord was beginning to see that he was just making things harder for himself in being stubborn, and had learned that biting his tongue was better than the alternative sometimes. But Sil was, in his mind, also making a great effort not to give reason for any bad reports to make their way back to his brother. Despite the fact that Timaeus was an insufferable tyrant when he wanted to be, Silanos had come to see that perhaps his older sibling had just reached the end of his patience. Maybe Sil just needed to play nicely for a little while and let the dust settle.
So, he waited and tried his best not to look as miserable as he felt when Maleos walked away to retrieve a practice sword, reaching for it with a brief glance down at the shorter man as he offered it across. There was a slight narrowing of the Lord’s gaze as the Captain spoke, and Silanos was quick to offer up a defense “I wasn’t armed if you recall correctly. And no, as you helpfully pointed out, I’m not a soldier. That’s your job. Captain.”
Oh dear. And things had started off so well Sil thought, shooting Maleos a dirty look. He was still less than amused about how that night had ended. Getting doused in wine at such a public event was not that bad, but Silanos was more annoyed about the fact that he had been trying to be nice to the Lady Imeeya. It was a touchy subject.
He was also a little insulted. It wasn’t as if the lord had never picked up a sword before. In fact, when he was younger -maybe quite a lot a younger- his tutor had said he was a stylish swordsman. He just..didn’t practice. And he was smart enough to know that this was going to end up another pride bruising exercise as Maleos invited him to attack. With a bored sort of sigh, Silanos took up a double-handed grip upon the sword, stepped back a little and weighed his opponent.
It had been a while, admittedly, since he’d properly sparred with anyone, and he tried to remember those things he’d been taught so as not to make himself look a complete imbecile. He readied the blade before him, eyed Maleos before throwing his weight forward behind a high blow leveled to come down upon the Captain’s head. It was not a complicated strike, nor a particularly powerful one, but Sil was, at least, reasonably quick on his feet, stepping to the side so as to present a smaller target to his opponent.
Silanos had noticed the absence of other soldiers, and he was watching Maleos warily as they exchanged a rather stiff greeting. The Captain was not wrong in that the younger Valaoritis Lord was beginning to see that he was just making things harder for himself in being stubborn, and had learned that biting his tongue was better than the alternative sometimes. But Sil was, in his mind, also making a great effort not to give reason for any bad reports to make their way back to his brother. Despite the fact that Timaeus was an insufferable tyrant when he wanted to be, Silanos had come to see that perhaps his older sibling had just reached the end of his patience. Maybe Sil just needed to play nicely for a little while and let the dust settle.
So, he waited and tried his best not to look as miserable as he felt when Maleos walked away to retrieve a practice sword, reaching for it with a brief glance down at the shorter man as he offered it across. There was a slight narrowing of the Lord’s gaze as the Captain spoke, and Silanos was quick to offer up a defense “I wasn’t armed if you recall correctly. And no, as you helpfully pointed out, I’m not a soldier. That’s your job. Captain.”
Oh dear. And things had started off so well Sil thought, shooting Maleos a dirty look. He was still less than amused about how that night had ended. Getting doused in wine at such a public event was not that bad, but Silanos was more annoyed about the fact that he had been trying to be nice to the Lady Imeeya. It was a touchy subject.
He was also a little insulted. It wasn’t as if the lord had never picked up a sword before. In fact, when he was younger -maybe quite a lot a younger- his tutor had said he was a stylish swordsman. He just..didn’t practice. And he was smart enough to know that this was going to end up another pride bruising exercise as Maleos invited him to attack. With a bored sort of sigh, Silanos took up a double-handed grip upon the sword, stepped back a little and weighed his opponent.
It had been a while, admittedly, since he’d properly sparred with anyone, and he tried to remember those things he’d been taught so as not to make himself look a complete imbecile. He readied the blade before him, eyed Maleos before throwing his weight forward behind a high blow leveled to come down upon the Captain’s head. It was not a complicated strike, nor a particularly powerful one, but Sil was, at least, reasonably quick on his feet, stepping to the side so as to present a smaller target to his opponent.
“I was not armed upon my arrival either. And yet, one of us stood with a sword in hand, ready to defend innocent women and children, and one of us cowered behind the women and children.” He said as Silanos lashed out to defend himself. He hadn’t expected any different from the Lord, he had already proven that he was not able to take comments and swallow his pride. He would fight to the bitter end, and unfortunately Maleos felt like this was not the last resort for Timaeus. If his brother could not learn Maleos’ lessons, the Captain thought the Baron would have something more in mind for him. He just wasn’t sure that Silanos realized that training at the barracks was not the worst thing for him.
“You are not a soldier, but I had been led to believe that you were in fact a man. Perhaps that is incorrect.” Maleos quipped back, if Silanos was going to give him attitude, he was going to call him out as a coward. He had no issues telling the Lord exactly what he thought of his actions that day in the chambers. He needed to learn that the world did not revolve around him, and the way that Maleos knew how to break down those attitudes was through words as well as actions. He had a few men join his unit with similar attitudes, and it had not taken long under Maleos’ command to break them down until they realized that in fact, they were not the most important thing in the world.
Silanos’ sword swing was easily countered by the Captain, minimal effort saw it blocked with his own sword, pushing the blade down and away from him. Silanos had made a very basic and predictable move, he thought that had he stood there as a ten year old boy, he still could have blocked the Lord’s swing.
“Come on, I know you can do better than that.” He said simply, he doubted Silanos had actually used a sword in many years, but Maleos had seen it many times, every man had something in him that the sword called to. All he had to do was put half the effort he put into drinking and gambling into swinging the sword in his hands and he might make a half decent fighter.
“This is not a lesson in humility, as the others have been. If I thought you were completely hopeless, I would not waste my time here with you. I would have sent you off with Daxos and the others.” He said, stepping sideways, he feigned swinging his sword at Silanos’ right side, quickly pulling it back towards himself, his attack ended up being a thrusting jab, though he would stop before hitting the other man if Silanos could not react in time to block.
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“I was not armed upon my arrival either. And yet, one of us stood with a sword in hand, ready to defend innocent women and children, and one of us cowered behind the women and children.” He said as Silanos lashed out to defend himself. He hadn’t expected any different from the Lord, he had already proven that he was not able to take comments and swallow his pride. He would fight to the bitter end, and unfortunately Maleos felt like this was not the last resort for Timaeus. If his brother could not learn Maleos’ lessons, the Captain thought the Baron would have something more in mind for him. He just wasn’t sure that Silanos realized that training at the barracks was not the worst thing for him.
“You are not a soldier, but I had been led to believe that you were in fact a man. Perhaps that is incorrect.” Maleos quipped back, if Silanos was going to give him attitude, he was going to call him out as a coward. He had no issues telling the Lord exactly what he thought of his actions that day in the chambers. He needed to learn that the world did not revolve around him, and the way that Maleos knew how to break down those attitudes was through words as well as actions. He had a few men join his unit with similar attitudes, and it had not taken long under Maleos’ command to break them down until they realized that in fact, they were not the most important thing in the world.
Silanos’ sword swing was easily countered by the Captain, minimal effort saw it blocked with his own sword, pushing the blade down and away from him. Silanos had made a very basic and predictable move, he thought that had he stood there as a ten year old boy, he still could have blocked the Lord’s swing.
“Come on, I know you can do better than that.” He said simply, he doubted Silanos had actually used a sword in many years, but Maleos had seen it many times, every man had something in him that the sword called to. All he had to do was put half the effort he put into drinking and gambling into swinging the sword in his hands and he might make a half decent fighter.
“This is not a lesson in humility, as the others have been. If I thought you were completely hopeless, I would not waste my time here with you. I would have sent you off with Daxos and the others.” He said, stepping sideways, he feigned swinging his sword at Silanos’ right side, quickly pulling it back towards himself, his attack ended up being a thrusting jab, though he would stop before hitting the other man if Silanos could not react in time to block.
“I was not armed upon my arrival either. And yet, one of us stood with a sword in hand, ready to defend innocent women and children, and one of us cowered behind the women and children.” He said as Silanos lashed out to defend himself. He hadn’t expected any different from the Lord, he had already proven that he was not able to take comments and swallow his pride. He would fight to the bitter end, and unfortunately Maleos felt like this was not the last resort for Timaeus. If his brother could not learn Maleos’ lessons, the Captain thought the Baron would have something more in mind for him. He just wasn’t sure that Silanos realized that training at the barracks was not the worst thing for him.
“You are not a soldier, but I had been led to believe that you were in fact a man. Perhaps that is incorrect.” Maleos quipped back, if Silanos was going to give him attitude, he was going to call him out as a coward. He had no issues telling the Lord exactly what he thought of his actions that day in the chambers. He needed to learn that the world did not revolve around him, and the way that Maleos knew how to break down those attitudes was through words as well as actions. He had a few men join his unit with similar attitudes, and it had not taken long under Maleos’ command to break them down until they realized that in fact, they were not the most important thing in the world.
Silanos’ sword swing was easily countered by the Captain, minimal effort saw it blocked with his own sword, pushing the blade down and away from him. Silanos had made a very basic and predictable move, he thought that had he stood there as a ten year old boy, he still could have blocked the Lord’s swing.
“Come on, I know you can do better than that.” He said simply, he doubted Silanos had actually used a sword in many years, but Maleos had seen it many times, every man had something in him that the sword called to. All he had to do was put half the effort he put into drinking and gambling into swinging the sword in his hands and he might make a half decent fighter.
“This is not a lesson in humility, as the others have been. If I thought you were completely hopeless, I would not waste my time here with you. I would have sent you off with Daxos and the others.” He said, stepping sideways, he feigned swinging his sword at Silanos’ right side, quickly pulling it back towards himself, his attack ended up being a thrusting jab, though he would stop before hitting the other man if Silanos could not react in time to block.
The younger man scowled under Maleos’ words, for the Captain did not ease off in his criticism of Silanos’ behaviour in the Dikastirio. It stung, moreso perhaps because there had been a moment in that room where Sil had cursed even his own lack of skill with a blade. Of course he did not *want* to stand by unable to contribute, but the skills of a soldier were not his.
And Sil grit his teeth so hard he thought they might crack when Maleos went on, insulting him further. “Well I keep getting told you aren’t a crashing bore, so I suppose we are both disappointed” he muttered as he shifted his feet into a stance more suited for swinging a blade. Indeed, Leto had been rather vocal in her defense of the man, for some unfathomable reason.
It wasn’t a surprise when the Captain easily blocked the strike, Sil letting the man deflect the sword down and away without putting up much resistance. Readjusting his grip a little, he tried to find the balance in the sword, looking for muscle memory that was, well, pretty much forgotten. He had been lax in keeping his hand in. Silanos watched his brother’s friend, lifting a brow doubtfully when the man said this wasn’t purely another exercise in humiliation.
There was a brief snort at the idea that Maleos thought him anything other than hopeless, and he wondered what it cost the man to say it, but Sil was hardly going to argue the point, and so he just sighed and nearly missed the strike the other moved into. It was reflex really, shoving his sword into the path of the other, but then the Valaoritis recognised the feint for what it was and twisted his body to try and evade the true course of the blade. He surprised himself a little with that.
He was nimble though, always had been, a needed skill when one was the youngest of three and had a mouth and attitude bigger than his strength could deliver on. Perhaps some of those talents had not entirely deserted him after all.
“Watch where you’re sticking that thing, will you?” came the indignant words. “I’d rather keep my guts where they are if it’s of no consequence to you”. Flip as always, Sil winced when he heard himself because the last man he’d seen catch a blade in the guts had been a slave who had died on the street. Died on the blade of a Prince because of something Sil himself had done. Died in his place, even. And that, in a roundabout way, had landed him here.
The young Lord’s gaze flickered away from Maleos then, because Sil was not without feeling, and he knew he had a debt to pay for that life, and that was not easily smothered with wine nor poppy or the antagonistic attitude he used as armor much of the time. The attitude he shrugged back on before his discomfort became too evident.
“You know, if you wanted some time alone with me, Captain, you should have asked. I could have let you down gently then and avoided all this awkwardness”
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The younger man scowled under Maleos’ words, for the Captain did not ease off in his criticism of Silanos’ behaviour in the Dikastirio. It stung, moreso perhaps because there had been a moment in that room where Sil had cursed even his own lack of skill with a blade. Of course he did not *want* to stand by unable to contribute, but the skills of a soldier were not his.
And Sil grit his teeth so hard he thought they might crack when Maleos went on, insulting him further. “Well I keep getting told you aren’t a crashing bore, so I suppose we are both disappointed” he muttered as he shifted his feet into a stance more suited for swinging a blade. Indeed, Leto had been rather vocal in her defense of the man, for some unfathomable reason.
It wasn’t a surprise when the Captain easily blocked the strike, Sil letting the man deflect the sword down and away without putting up much resistance. Readjusting his grip a little, he tried to find the balance in the sword, looking for muscle memory that was, well, pretty much forgotten. He had been lax in keeping his hand in. Silanos watched his brother’s friend, lifting a brow doubtfully when the man said this wasn’t purely another exercise in humiliation.
There was a brief snort at the idea that Maleos thought him anything other than hopeless, and he wondered what it cost the man to say it, but Sil was hardly going to argue the point, and so he just sighed and nearly missed the strike the other moved into. It was reflex really, shoving his sword into the path of the other, but then the Valaoritis recognised the feint for what it was and twisted his body to try and evade the true course of the blade. He surprised himself a little with that.
He was nimble though, always had been, a needed skill when one was the youngest of three and had a mouth and attitude bigger than his strength could deliver on. Perhaps some of those talents had not entirely deserted him after all.
“Watch where you’re sticking that thing, will you?” came the indignant words. “I’d rather keep my guts where they are if it’s of no consequence to you”. Flip as always, Sil winced when he heard himself because the last man he’d seen catch a blade in the guts had been a slave who had died on the street. Died on the blade of a Prince because of something Sil himself had done. Died in his place, even. And that, in a roundabout way, had landed him here.
The young Lord’s gaze flickered away from Maleos then, because Sil was not without feeling, and he knew he had a debt to pay for that life, and that was not easily smothered with wine nor poppy or the antagonistic attitude he used as armor much of the time. The attitude he shrugged back on before his discomfort became too evident.
“You know, if you wanted some time alone with me, Captain, you should have asked. I could have let you down gently then and avoided all this awkwardness”
The younger man scowled under Maleos’ words, for the Captain did not ease off in his criticism of Silanos’ behaviour in the Dikastirio. It stung, moreso perhaps because there had been a moment in that room where Sil had cursed even his own lack of skill with a blade. Of course he did not *want* to stand by unable to contribute, but the skills of a soldier were not his.
And Sil grit his teeth so hard he thought they might crack when Maleos went on, insulting him further. “Well I keep getting told you aren’t a crashing bore, so I suppose we are both disappointed” he muttered as he shifted his feet into a stance more suited for swinging a blade. Indeed, Leto had been rather vocal in her defense of the man, for some unfathomable reason.
It wasn’t a surprise when the Captain easily blocked the strike, Sil letting the man deflect the sword down and away without putting up much resistance. Readjusting his grip a little, he tried to find the balance in the sword, looking for muscle memory that was, well, pretty much forgotten. He had been lax in keeping his hand in. Silanos watched his brother’s friend, lifting a brow doubtfully when the man said this wasn’t purely another exercise in humiliation.
There was a brief snort at the idea that Maleos thought him anything other than hopeless, and he wondered what it cost the man to say it, but Sil was hardly going to argue the point, and so he just sighed and nearly missed the strike the other moved into. It was reflex really, shoving his sword into the path of the other, but then the Valaoritis recognised the feint for what it was and twisted his body to try and evade the true course of the blade. He surprised himself a little with that.
He was nimble though, always had been, a needed skill when one was the youngest of three and had a mouth and attitude bigger than his strength could deliver on. Perhaps some of those talents had not entirely deserted him after all.
“Watch where you’re sticking that thing, will you?” came the indignant words. “I’d rather keep my guts where they are if it’s of no consequence to you”. Flip as always, Sil winced when he heard himself because the last man he’d seen catch a blade in the guts had been a slave who had died on the street. Died on the blade of a Prince because of something Sil himself had done. Died in his place, even. And that, in a roundabout way, had landed him here.
The young Lord’s gaze flickered away from Maleos then, because Sil was not without feeling, and he knew he had a debt to pay for that life, and that was not easily smothered with wine nor poppy or the antagonistic attitude he used as armor much of the time. The attitude he shrugged back on before his discomfort became too evident.
“You know, if you wanted some time alone with me, Captain, you should have asked. I could have let you down gently then and avoided all this awkwardness”
Maleos raised an eyebrow at Silanos’ comment. Was that supposed to insult him? That a spoil brat of a Lord thought he was boring? If he was a man of less discipline he would have snapped back at him, mocked him for thinking his opinion matter to the Captain. Lord Silanos’ opinion of him mattered about as much as a beggar on the streets did. Silanos held no power over him, though he was a Lord. When it came to military matters, or anything concerning Maleos, it was Silanos’ brother who mattered, and Maleos already had Timaeus’ favour. Years of loyalty, hardwork and friendship had seen to that, and he had been well rewarded for his efforts, as he now stood as a Captain.
Maleos thought that Silanos would miss the true strike, and he trusted in his own skill to stop the blade before it struck skin, but he was surprised a little when the other man managed to catch it at the last second and defend against the attack. Perhaps he wasn’t completely hopeless. There had to be something of a fighter buried some where down deep. If Silanos would just let his head clear of wine and poppy more often, he might find that he had useful skills in life. He doubted that beyond these walls, Silanos would keep himself sober for any period of time. The only reason he was now, is because Maleos deemed it so. While they were under his roof, his men knew better than to bring any of that in. Anyone caught doing so would face a harsh punishment, something Maleos had been quick to instill the moment he took over the unit. The men had learned quickly that he was not joking when it came to his rules.
Maleos saw something in Sil after his comment, saw the façade break a little and show the true man underneath. And as curious was Maleos was, about what would make Lord Silanos seem like an actual human being, he did not ask. The Captain was a man of few words himself, and those words never involved true feeling behind them when spoken. Not to mention, it wasn’t as if the two of them were close friends. And so, he made no comment, he simply waited for Silanos to snap back to reality.
“Despite your comments, you might not actually make a bad swordsman if you had the discipline to put in the work.” He said, letting Silanos’ further comments roll off of him. Maleos was not going to let Silanos goad him into a battle of biting comments that day. He was genuinely intending on teaching him at least something, even if it took all day to do. When he seemed to come back from what ever thoughts had invaded him, Maleos set on the attack immediately. He had decided to use the moment for a bit of a lesson, one that would be important in a lot of situations, including ones that had nothing to do with combat. Though he doubted that Silanos would even learn his lesson, he didn’t seem the type to take in anything that he was being taught. That was half of his issue, he had to role models around him to fix his attitude, to learn and grow, and he ignored everything that they tried to teach him.
“Letting your thoughts distract you is a dangerous thing.” He said, with a step forward, his sword came swinging down toward Silanos at an angle, and when the Lord threw up his own sword to defend, Maleos smoothly ducked a little and pushed his weight forward, effectively tackling the other male. Silanos was sent flying backward with the force from the impact and Maleos stood straight once more in time to watch Silanos slide backwards on the sand. The Captain pushed his black curls from out of his face and waited for the other to recover from the attack. He wasn’t sure if it was just poor reaction time that had caused Silanos to miss the second fake out thrown at him that morning, or if it was whatever had been on his mind just moments earlier, but either way by the end of the day the Lord would either need to learn or suffer further injury. Maleos was fairly certain the man had never had so many bruises and cuts in his life as he had while under Maleos care. He had only been instructed to make sure his injuries weren’t severe, and he had not received any that would do any permanent harm so far. At least not to his body, Maleos hoped they would do permanent harm to his ego. The man could use a lowering of the ego, that much was clear.
“Distraction could be the difference between life or death. Learn to keep your focus.” He spoke, though lately he had felt himself being a little more easily distracted than he had in his younger years. He had a plan to fix that, he just hadn’t had time to set it in motion quite yet. Not with everything that had been going on lately. Either way, his mind would be clear soon enough, and he would be able to focus on more important things one way or another. He had no idea if things would go in his favour with Leto or not, she was hard to read, not to mention Maleos was awful at reading people in the first place. He had decided to come right out with what he wanted to say, to be clear and honest with his feelings and leave it to her to decide how she would react.
He quickly cleared those thoughts, not wishing to get distracted as he had been in the middle of teaching Silanos not to do exactly that. What kind of lesson would it be if he then slipped into his own thoughts and was no longer paying attention? He had plenty of time to think of other things later, right now he wanted to focus on Silanos and attempting to get anything through that thick skull of his.
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Maleos raised an eyebrow at Silanos’ comment. Was that supposed to insult him? That a spoil brat of a Lord thought he was boring? If he was a man of less discipline he would have snapped back at him, mocked him for thinking his opinion matter to the Captain. Lord Silanos’ opinion of him mattered about as much as a beggar on the streets did. Silanos held no power over him, though he was a Lord. When it came to military matters, or anything concerning Maleos, it was Silanos’ brother who mattered, and Maleos already had Timaeus’ favour. Years of loyalty, hardwork and friendship had seen to that, and he had been well rewarded for his efforts, as he now stood as a Captain.
Maleos thought that Silanos would miss the true strike, and he trusted in his own skill to stop the blade before it struck skin, but he was surprised a little when the other man managed to catch it at the last second and defend against the attack. Perhaps he wasn’t completely hopeless. There had to be something of a fighter buried some where down deep. If Silanos would just let his head clear of wine and poppy more often, he might find that he had useful skills in life. He doubted that beyond these walls, Silanos would keep himself sober for any period of time. The only reason he was now, is because Maleos deemed it so. While they were under his roof, his men knew better than to bring any of that in. Anyone caught doing so would face a harsh punishment, something Maleos had been quick to instill the moment he took over the unit. The men had learned quickly that he was not joking when it came to his rules.
Maleos saw something in Sil after his comment, saw the façade break a little and show the true man underneath. And as curious was Maleos was, about what would make Lord Silanos seem like an actual human being, he did not ask. The Captain was a man of few words himself, and those words never involved true feeling behind them when spoken. Not to mention, it wasn’t as if the two of them were close friends. And so, he made no comment, he simply waited for Silanos to snap back to reality.
“Despite your comments, you might not actually make a bad swordsman if you had the discipline to put in the work.” He said, letting Silanos’ further comments roll off of him. Maleos was not going to let Silanos goad him into a battle of biting comments that day. He was genuinely intending on teaching him at least something, even if it took all day to do. When he seemed to come back from what ever thoughts had invaded him, Maleos set on the attack immediately. He had decided to use the moment for a bit of a lesson, one that would be important in a lot of situations, including ones that had nothing to do with combat. Though he doubted that Silanos would even learn his lesson, he didn’t seem the type to take in anything that he was being taught. That was half of his issue, he had to role models around him to fix his attitude, to learn and grow, and he ignored everything that they tried to teach him.
“Letting your thoughts distract you is a dangerous thing.” He said, with a step forward, his sword came swinging down toward Silanos at an angle, and when the Lord threw up his own sword to defend, Maleos smoothly ducked a little and pushed his weight forward, effectively tackling the other male. Silanos was sent flying backward with the force from the impact and Maleos stood straight once more in time to watch Silanos slide backwards on the sand. The Captain pushed his black curls from out of his face and waited for the other to recover from the attack. He wasn’t sure if it was just poor reaction time that had caused Silanos to miss the second fake out thrown at him that morning, or if it was whatever had been on his mind just moments earlier, but either way by the end of the day the Lord would either need to learn or suffer further injury. Maleos was fairly certain the man had never had so many bruises and cuts in his life as he had while under Maleos care. He had only been instructed to make sure his injuries weren’t severe, and he had not received any that would do any permanent harm so far. At least not to his body, Maleos hoped they would do permanent harm to his ego. The man could use a lowering of the ego, that much was clear.
“Distraction could be the difference between life or death. Learn to keep your focus.” He spoke, though lately he had felt himself being a little more easily distracted than he had in his younger years. He had a plan to fix that, he just hadn’t had time to set it in motion quite yet. Not with everything that had been going on lately. Either way, his mind would be clear soon enough, and he would be able to focus on more important things one way or another. He had no idea if things would go in his favour with Leto or not, she was hard to read, not to mention Maleos was awful at reading people in the first place. He had decided to come right out with what he wanted to say, to be clear and honest with his feelings and leave it to her to decide how she would react.
He quickly cleared those thoughts, not wishing to get distracted as he had been in the middle of teaching Silanos not to do exactly that. What kind of lesson would it be if he then slipped into his own thoughts and was no longer paying attention? He had plenty of time to think of other things later, right now he wanted to focus on Silanos and attempting to get anything through that thick skull of his.
Maleos raised an eyebrow at Silanos’ comment. Was that supposed to insult him? That a spoil brat of a Lord thought he was boring? If he was a man of less discipline he would have snapped back at him, mocked him for thinking his opinion matter to the Captain. Lord Silanos’ opinion of him mattered about as much as a beggar on the streets did. Silanos held no power over him, though he was a Lord. When it came to military matters, or anything concerning Maleos, it was Silanos’ brother who mattered, and Maleos already had Timaeus’ favour. Years of loyalty, hardwork and friendship had seen to that, and he had been well rewarded for his efforts, as he now stood as a Captain.
Maleos thought that Silanos would miss the true strike, and he trusted in his own skill to stop the blade before it struck skin, but he was surprised a little when the other man managed to catch it at the last second and defend against the attack. Perhaps he wasn’t completely hopeless. There had to be something of a fighter buried some where down deep. If Silanos would just let his head clear of wine and poppy more often, he might find that he had useful skills in life. He doubted that beyond these walls, Silanos would keep himself sober for any period of time. The only reason he was now, is because Maleos deemed it so. While they were under his roof, his men knew better than to bring any of that in. Anyone caught doing so would face a harsh punishment, something Maleos had been quick to instill the moment he took over the unit. The men had learned quickly that he was not joking when it came to his rules.
Maleos saw something in Sil after his comment, saw the façade break a little and show the true man underneath. And as curious was Maleos was, about what would make Lord Silanos seem like an actual human being, he did not ask. The Captain was a man of few words himself, and those words never involved true feeling behind them when spoken. Not to mention, it wasn’t as if the two of them were close friends. And so, he made no comment, he simply waited for Silanos to snap back to reality.
“Despite your comments, you might not actually make a bad swordsman if you had the discipline to put in the work.” He said, letting Silanos’ further comments roll off of him. Maleos was not going to let Silanos goad him into a battle of biting comments that day. He was genuinely intending on teaching him at least something, even if it took all day to do. When he seemed to come back from what ever thoughts had invaded him, Maleos set on the attack immediately. He had decided to use the moment for a bit of a lesson, one that would be important in a lot of situations, including ones that had nothing to do with combat. Though he doubted that Silanos would even learn his lesson, he didn’t seem the type to take in anything that he was being taught. That was half of his issue, he had to role models around him to fix his attitude, to learn and grow, and he ignored everything that they tried to teach him.
“Letting your thoughts distract you is a dangerous thing.” He said, with a step forward, his sword came swinging down toward Silanos at an angle, and when the Lord threw up his own sword to defend, Maleos smoothly ducked a little and pushed his weight forward, effectively tackling the other male. Silanos was sent flying backward with the force from the impact and Maleos stood straight once more in time to watch Silanos slide backwards on the sand. The Captain pushed his black curls from out of his face and waited for the other to recover from the attack. He wasn’t sure if it was just poor reaction time that had caused Silanos to miss the second fake out thrown at him that morning, or if it was whatever had been on his mind just moments earlier, but either way by the end of the day the Lord would either need to learn or suffer further injury. Maleos was fairly certain the man had never had so many bruises and cuts in his life as he had while under Maleos care. He had only been instructed to make sure his injuries weren’t severe, and he had not received any that would do any permanent harm so far. At least not to his body, Maleos hoped they would do permanent harm to his ego. The man could use a lowering of the ego, that much was clear.
“Distraction could be the difference between life or death. Learn to keep your focus.” He spoke, though lately he had felt himself being a little more easily distracted than he had in his younger years. He had a plan to fix that, he just hadn’t had time to set it in motion quite yet. Not with everything that had been going on lately. Either way, his mind would be clear soon enough, and he would be able to focus on more important things one way or another. He had no idea if things would go in his favour with Leto or not, she was hard to read, not to mention Maleos was awful at reading people in the first place. He had decided to come right out with what he wanted to say, to be clear and honest with his feelings and leave it to her to decide how she would react.
He quickly cleared those thoughts, not wishing to get distracted as he had been in the middle of teaching Silanos not to do exactly that. What kind of lesson would it be if he then slipped into his own thoughts and was no longer paying attention? He had plenty of time to think of other things later, right now he wanted to focus on Silanos and attempting to get anything through that thick skull of his.
A few days had passed since the events at the Dikastirio, as well as since Magnus return from Taengea, though it seemed as if he had still been missing from the household in the days that followed. Chaos surrounding risen-again King, attempted regicide on two counts, and the looming war on the horizon, her brother had been scarce, with Leto noting his late returns in the evening and their brief, distant conversations.
Sometime soon, once the dust settled - if it ever did - she may be able to have a moment alone with her brother, like old times. However, as she grew older, she grew accustomed to setting out on her own path. In fact, she found herself more comfortable in this life now more than ever, feeling as if she had become her own person with her own connections as opposed to just 'the Master Informer's sister'.
Her thoughts had lingered long on that night, particularly with playing through the various outcomes that could have been. Ever grateful for the lack of bloodshed, Leto had already made several offerings of thanks to Athena for her protection that night. She had also sent missives of her gratitude to the two who stood out the most in her mind.
Uncertain of how to display her thanks, Leto knew that one could never go wrong with a gift in hand. With a parcel roughly a foot in length in her hands, Leto set out for her destination, cautious to take an extended route as always lest too many eyes look upon her and whisper suspicions to Magnus. After all, this had become quite a routine for her in the weeks he had been gone - and there was nothing wrong with a harmless routine of passing through town to various market stops and routes along the way.
Ensuring that she had not been followed - a course of habit by this point in her life - Leto pulled her himation over her distinctive braid and made her way to the barracks, garnering entrance without giving her name and simply stating a delivery for Captain Maleos of Eubocris - harmless as could be.
Once pointed in the direction of the training court, Leto could hear the muffled timbre of his voice and the familiar echo of metal-on-metal. A second voice seemed familiar to her but she could not place it, until she found herself standing near the railings surrounding the training court only to see the form of Lord Silanos of Valaoritis go flying and land in a cloud of dust.
Blinking a moment, her thoughts clicked away rapidly as the mosaic pieces formed a full picture. The bruises on his face at the Dikastirio. His prior condition of restraint within his own rooms for his scandalous transgressions. His clear and apparent distaste for Captain Maleos in his written rhetoric. It all made sense now, as she watched him catch his lost wind a moment before moving to his feet.
This was his penance, she supposed, for what she knew.
It could have been worse, she imagined, but did not dare say it.
"Captain?" she called, brows raised slightly as both sets of eyes turned to her. Her head tilted slightly in a bow and an abbreviated curtsey as she added, "my lord," before resting the wrapped parcel on the railing a moment and tilting her head a bit in apology.
"Is this a bad time?"
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A few days had passed since the events at the Dikastirio, as well as since Magnus return from Taengea, though it seemed as if he had still been missing from the household in the days that followed. Chaos surrounding risen-again King, attempted regicide on two counts, and the looming war on the horizon, her brother had been scarce, with Leto noting his late returns in the evening and their brief, distant conversations.
Sometime soon, once the dust settled - if it ever did - she may be able to have a moment alone with her brother, like old times. However, as she grew older, she grew accustomed to setting out on her own path. In fact, she found herself more comfortable in this life now more than ever, feeling as if she had become her own person with her own connections as opposed to just 'the Master Informer's sister'.
Her thoughts had lingered long on that night, particularly with playing through the various outcomes that could have been. Ever grateful for the lack of bloodshed, Leto had already made several offerings of thanks to Athena for her protection that night. She had also sent missives of her gratitude to the two who stood out the most in her mind.
Uncertain of how to display her thanks, Leto knew that one could never go wrong with a gift in hand. With a parcel roughly a foot in length in her hands, Leto set out for her destination, cautious to take an extended route as always lest too many eyes look upon her and whisper suspicions to Magnus. After all, this had become quite a routine for her in the weeks he had been gone - and there was nothing wrong with a harmless routine of passing through town to various market stops and routes along the way.
Ensuring that she had not been followed - a course of habit by this point in her life - Leto pulled her himation over her distinctive braid and made her way to the barracks, garnering entrance without giving her name and simply stating a delivery for Captain Maleos of Eubocris - harmless as could be.
Once pointed in the direction of the training court, Leto could hear the muffled timbre of his voice and the familiar echo of metal-on-metal. A second voice seemed familiar to her but she could not place it, until she found herself standing near the railings surrounding the training court only to see the form of Lord Silanos of Valaoritis go flying and land in a cloud of dust.
Blinking a moment, her thoughts clicked away rapidly as the mosaic pieces formed a full picture. The bruises on his face at the Dikastirio. His prior condition of restraint within his own rooms for his scandalous transgressions. His clear and apparent distaste for Captain Maleos in his written rhetoric. It all made sense now, as she watched him catch his lost wind a moment before moving to his feet.
This was his penance, she supposed, for what she knew.
It could have been worse, she imagined, but did not dare say it.
"Captain?" she called, brows raised slightly as both sets of eyes turned to her. Her head tilted slightly in a bow and an abbreviated curtsey as she added, "my lord," before resting the wrapped parcel on the railing a moment and tilting her head a bit in apology.
"Is this a bad time?"
A few days had passed since the events at the Dikastirio, as well as since Magnus return from Taengea, though it seemed as if he had still been missing from the household in the days that followed. Chaos surrounding risen-again King, attempted regicide on two counts, and the looming war on the horizon, her brother had been scarce, with Leto noting his late returns in the evening and their brief, distant conversations.
Sometime soon, once the dust settled - if it ever did - she may be able to have a moment alone with her brother, like old times. However, as she grew older, she grew accustomed to setting out on her own path. In fact, she found herself more comfortable in this life now more than ever, feeling as if she had become her own person with her own connections as opposed to just 'the Master Informer's sister'.
Her thoughts had lingered long on that night, particularly with playing through the various outcomes that could have been. Ever grateful for the lack of bloodshed, Leto had already made several offerings of thanks to Athena for her protection that night. She had also sent missives of her gratitude to the two who stood out the most in her mind.
Uncertain of how to display her thanks, Leto knew that one could never go wrong with a gift in hand. With a parcel roughly a foot in length in her hands, Leto set out for her destination, cautious to take an extended route as always lest too many eyes look upon her and whisper suspicions to Magnus. After all, this had become quite a routine for her in the weeks he had been gone - and there was nothing wrong with a harmless routine of passing through town to various market stops and routes along the way.
Ensuring that she had not been followed - a course of habit by this point in her life - Leto pulled her himation over her distinctive braid and made her way to the barracks, garnering entrance without giving her name and simply stating a delivery for Captain Maleos of Eubocris - harmless as could be.
Once pointed in the direction of the training court, Leto could hear the muffled timbre of his voice and the familiar echo of metal-on-metal. A second voice seemed familiar to her but she could not place it, until she found herself standing near the railings surrounding the training court only to see the form of Lord Silanos of Valaoritis go flying and land in a cloud of dust.
Blinking a moment, her thoughts clicked away rapidly as the mosaic pieces formed a full picture. The bruises on his face at the Dikastirio. His prior condition of restraint within his own rooms for his scandalous transgressions. His clear and apparent distaste for Captain Maleos in his written rhetoric. It all made sense now, as she watched him catch his lost wind a moment before moving to his feet.
This was his penance, she supposed, for what she knew.
It could have been worse, she imagined, but did not dare say it.
"Captain?" she called, brows raised slightly as both sets of eyes turned to her. Her head tilted slightly in a bow and an abbreviated curtsey as she added, "my lord," before resting the wrapped parcel on the railing a moment and tilting her head a bit in apology.
"Is this a bad time?"
It was frustrating for Silanos that Maleos seemed so able to ignore his goading words. He would feel much better if he could at least get a rise out of the man, would feel like in some small way he’d managed to address the balance a little. For there was no ignoring the fact that in this arena, Sil could not compete. He could grudgingly admit that the Captain’s reputation as a swordsman and a soldier was not misplaced, could recognise the man’s value in that, at least.
It did not mean he enjoyed having the focus of that dedication and expertise turned on him, however, and Sil frowned a little when Maleos spoke because he didn’t want to have the kind of discipline that turned one into a dullard. Was that was Timaeus was hoping to get out of this or was it just designed to make him miserable? Sil didn’t know, but now his thoughts kept drifting back to that poor kid and how he’d just been left to bleed out on the stone of the city streets. Just for being in the wrong place at the…
The sound of the Captain’s voice pulled him back, and Sil scrambled to parry the strike that Maleos aimed at him, his haste not clueing him into the way that the other man had not fully committed to the blow, and so the Valaoritis lord was not at all prepared for the shove he received instead, and it knocked him clean off his feet.
It was a heavy landing, and one too many on the layer of rainbow bruises he’d already collected. He looked like an apple that had fallen from the tree and then been kicked around the garden a few times for good measure. This time, his breath was knocked out of him and he got sand in his eye, which was always fun. He at least hadn’t let go of the sword in his hand though, and Sil congratulated himself on that even as he sat up and glowered at Maleos whilst rubbing at his elbow.
Learn to keep your focus. As if he hadn’t been told that a few thousand times before. Silanos was exuberant and chaotic in whatever held his attention for a few moments but quickly bored with anything that dragged on too long. Hence why the repetitiveness of sword drills had soon been cast aside, a fact he could spare a moment’s regret for now. Even more so as he realised they had a spectator, and turning his head, saw Leto of all people standing by the fence.
Fucking fantastic. What was she doing here? Leto of Chaossis had become one of those things that had caught Sil’s attention. She was a bit different and easy to be around, and somehow Sil had ended up telling her most all of his not so secret secrets when she had stolen away to visit him. And now she was here, and he was lying in the sand like a loser, which he was never going to enjoy.
Sil lifted his hand in a half-hearted wave, eyes drifting toward Maleos as he wondered if Leto had come to see her dear friend. Her dear friend the Captain whose attention was now fully on the woman standing a little way off, despite his preachings to Silanos of only a moment ago.
If he’d been less annoyed at having being dumped on his ass in front of Leto, Silanos might have thought better of what he did next. But then, he had never been one to worry too much about consequences, and the opportunity was just too ripe and ready for him to ignore. With a narrowing of his gaze, the Valaoritis Lord rolled quickly onto his side, kicked out neatly with his top leg to collide with the back of those of the Captain. A simply executed leg sweep that would see Maleos deposited in the sand just as he had dropped Silanos there a moment before. There was a definite smugness to the drawled out question that followed, the young Lord determined to enjoy the moment.
“What was that, Captain? Something about not losing focus?”
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It was frustrating for Silanos that Maleos seemed so able to ignore his goading words. He would feel much better if he could at least get a rise out of the man, would feel like in some small way he’d managed to address the balance a little. For there was no ignoring the fact that in this arena, Sil could not compete. He could grudgingly admit that the Captain’s reputation as a swordsman and a soldier was not misplaced, could recognise the man’s value in that, at least.
It did not mean he enjoyed having the focus of that dedication and expertise turned on him, however, and Sil frowned a little when Maleos spoke because he didn’t want to have the kind of discipline that turned one into a dullard. Was that was Timaeus was hoping to get out of this or was it just designed to make him miserable? Sil didn’t know, but now his thoughts kept drifting back to that poor kid and how he’d just been left to bleed out on the stone of the city streets. Just for being in the wrong place at the…
The sound of the Captain’s voice pulled him back, and Sil scrambled to parry the strike that Maleos aimed at him, his haste not clueing him into the way that the other man had not fully committed to the blow, and so the Valaoritis lord was not at all prepared for the shove he received instead, and it knocked him clean off his feet.
It was a heavy landing, and one too many on the layer of rainbow bruises he’d already collected. He looked like an apple that had fallen from the tree and then been kicked around the garden a few times for good measure. This time, his breath was knocked out of him and he got sand in his eye, which was always fun. He at least hadn’t let go of the sword in his hand though, and Sil congratulated himself on that even as he sat up and glowered at Maleos whilst rubbing at his elbow.
Learn to keep your focus. As if he hadn’t been told that a few thousand times before. Silanos was exuberant and chaotic in whatever held his attention for a few moments but quickly bored with anything that dragged on too long. Hence why the repetitiveness of sword drills had soon been cast aside, a fact he could spare a moment’s regret for now. Even more so as he realised they had a spectator, and turning his head, saw Leto of all people standing by the fence.
Fucking fantastic. What was she doing here? Leto of Chaossis had become one of those things that had caught Sil’s attention. She was a bit different and easy to be around, and somehow Sil had ended up telling her most all of his not so secret secrets when she had stolen away to visit him. And now she was here, and he was lying in the sand like a loser, which he was never going to enjoy.
Sil lifted his hand in a half-hearted wave, eyes drifting toward Maleos as he wondered if Leto had come to see her dear friend. Her dear friend the Captain whose attention was now fully on the woman standing a little way off, despite his preachings to Silanos of only a moment ago.
If he’d been less annoyed at having being dumped on his ass in front of Leto, Silanos might have thought better of what he did next. But then, he had never been one to worry too much about consequences, and the opportunity was just too ripe and ready for him to ignore. With a narrowing of his gaze, the Valaoritis Lord rolled quickly onto his side, kicked out neatly with his top leg to collide with the back of those of the Captain. A simply executed leg sweep that would see Maleos deposited in the sand just as he had dropped Silanos there a moment before. There was a definite smugness to the drawled out question that followed, the young Lord determined to enjoy the moment.
“What was that, Captain? Something about not losing focus?”
It was frustrating for Silanos that Maleos seemed so able to ignore his goading words. He would feel much better if he could at least get a rise out of the man, would feel like in some small way he’d managed to address the balance a little. For there was no ignoring the fact that in this arena, Sil could not compete. He could grudgingly admit that the Captain’s reputation as a swordsman and a soldier was not misplaced, could recognise the man’s value in that, at least.
It did not mean he enjoyed having the focus of that dedication and expertise turned on him, however, and Sil frowned a little when Maleos spoke because he didn’t want to have the kind of discipline that turned one into a dullard. Was that was Timaeus was hoping to get out of this or was it just designed to make him miserable? Sil didn’t know, but now his thoughts kept drifting back to that poor kid and how he’d just been left to bleed out on the stone of the city streets. Just for being in the wrong place at the…
The sound of the Captain’s voice pulled him back, and Sil scrambled to parry the strike that Maleos aimed at him, his haste not clueing him into the way that the other man had not fully committed to the blow, and so the Valaoritis lord was not at all prepared for the shove he received instead, and it knocked him clean off his feet.
It was a heavy landing, and one too many on the layer of rainbow bruises he’d already collected. He looked like an apple that had fallen from the tree and then been kicked around the garden a few times for good measure. This time, his breath was knocked out of him and he got sand in his eye, which was always fun. He at least hadn’t let go of the sword in his hand though, and Sil congratulated himself on that even as he sat up and glowered at Maleos whilst rubbing at his elbow.
Learn to keep your focus. As if he hadn’t been told that a few thousand times before. Silanos was exuberant and chaotic in whatever held his attention for a few moments but quickly bored with anything that dragged on too long. Hence why the repetitiveness of sword drills had soon been cast aside, a fact he could spare a moment’s regret for now. Even more so as he realised they had a spectator, and turning his head, saw Leto of all people standing by the fence.
Fucking fantastic. What was she doing here? Leto of Chaossis had become one of those things that had caught Sil’s attention. She was a bit different and easy to be around, and somehow Sil had ended up telling her most all of his not so secret secrets when she had stolen away to visit him. And now she was here, and he was lying in the sand like a loser, which he was never going to enjoy.
Sil lifted his hand in a half-hearted wave, eyes drifting toward Maleos as he wondered if Leto had come to see her dear friend. Her dear friend the Captain whose attention was now fully on the woman standing a little way off, despite his preachings to Silanos of only a moment ago.
If he’d been less annoyed at having being dumped on his ass in front of Leto, Silanos might have thought better of what he did next. But then, he had never been one to worry too much about consequences, and the opportunity was just too ripe and ready for him to ignore. With a narrowing of his gaze, the Valaoritis Lord rolled quickly onto his side, kicked out neatly with his top leg to collide with the back of those of the Captain. A simply executed leg sweep that would see Maleos deposited in the sand just as he had dropped Silanos there a moment before. There was a definite smugness to the drawled out question that followed, the young Lord determined to enjoy the moment.
“What was that, Captain? Something about not losing focus?”
Maleos was not yet done with Silanos, Daxos and the other men would be away for quite some time, and he had no plans of letting Silanos rest until then. Maleos doubted his lessons would stick, and the man would go back to being lazy in no time, he was sure of it. But while he was under the Captain’s roof, there was hardly time for rest. He was lucky he was only here temporarily, Maleos was far less lenient on the men of his unit had they acted the way Silanos had. Though he did not call him Lord while he was here with him, in truth Maleos could not treat him the exact same as he would his men. After all, Timaeus had wanted him back in one piece.
Maleos’ attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere as he heard a familiar and very welcome voice. His attention turned to the woman standing to the side of the training sands, looking everything as beautiful as he pictured each time he thought of her. His gaze softened upon seeing her, and the man laying in the sand was all but forgotten as the Captain’s focus was solely on Leto. The woman he loved, though she had yet to find that part out, if he had his way and they had a moment alone together soon, he would make her aware of how he felt. Though that would not be today, not while he was dressed as such, a bit sweaty from the day’s heat and the training he had been doing. She deserved to be told such things by a man who was clean and presentable.
“Leto.” He said, before catching himself being far too casual, especially in front of Silanos. The last thing he needed was the spoiled Lord to have something over him, to find a way to come between the Captain and Leto before anything had even happened. He wasn’t sure what exactly Silanos could do, but he wouldn’t put it past him to do something.
Before Maleos could answer Leto’s question, his legs were giving out from under him. He realized half a second too late what was happening, managing to execute a roll as he hit the ground to avoid being sliced or impaled on his own sword. He felt a white-hot pang of anger, his vision going red for a moment, all thoughts turning to making Silanos pay for his actions. Until a tiny voice in the back of his head reminded him they now had a spectator. The Lord was lucky that Leto had shown up, but he would pay for that dearly when she was gone.
For the moment Maleos simply picked himself up and pushed his hair from his face, regaining his composure. He swallowed the anger, something that he felt had been becoming harder to do recently and pushed it back for the moment. He could take it out later, both on Silanos and on the wooden training dummies. The one he destroyed earlier was now gone, quickly and efficiently disposed of.
“Not a bad time at all, my lady. Please stay, this won’t take me but a moment.” He said, keeping his voice calm and collected even if his anger was still boiling deep down. He was already thinking of ways to get back at Silanos for making him seem like a fool in front of Leto. Had she not been here, he would have simply been a little bit proud of Silanos for being able to do that. But now he was embarrassed, in front of Leto of all people. That would not go unpunished, even if the punishment was a bit petty.
He fell silent then, moving over towards where the equipment was stored, he grabbed a second sword, one that nearly matched his own, though slightly lower quality as it was for training. He turned back and started approaching Silanos once more, swinging both swords for a moment before he came to a stop, facing Silanos. He hoped the man held some sort of regret for his actions. If he did not now, Maleos was sure he would that night when he was training instead of being allowed to sleep.
“You think yourself clever then? Let’s see what you’ve got.” And with that Maleos lunged, a flurry of carefully calculated sword swings found their way towards Silanos. Maleos was sure he could stop them before any real damage was done, but if the Lord happened to suffer a cut? Well that would be just an unfortunate and yet common hazard of training. There was a fire in his eyes that Silanos had not yet seen, something triggered inside the Captain as he swung those swords, something primal, a beast that knew nothing but the sword. He attacked like a man blessed by Ares himself, each movement natural and yet carefully calculated.
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Maleos was not yet done with Silanos, Daxos and the other men would be away for quite some time, and he had no plans of letting Silanos rest until then. Maleos doubted his lessons would stick, and the man would go back to being lazy in no time, he was sure of it. But while he was under the Captain’s roof, there was hardly time for rest. He was lucky he was only here temporarily, Maleos was far less lenient on the men of his unit had they acted the way Silanos had. Though he did not call him Lord while he was here with him, in truth Maleos could not treat him the exact same as he would his men. After all, Timaeus had wanted him back in one piece.
Maleos’ attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere as he heard a familiar and very welcome voice. His attention turned to the woman standing to the side of the training sands, looking everything as beautiful as he pictured each time he thought of her. His gaze softened upon seeing her, and the man laying in the sand was all but forgotten as the Captain’s focus was solely on Leto. The woman he loved, though she had yet to find that part out, if he had his way and they had a moment alone together soon, he would make her aware of how he felt. Though that would not be today, not while he was dressed as such, a bit sweaty from the day’s heat and the training he had been doing. She deserved to be told such things by a man who was clean and presentable.
“Leto.” He said, before catching himself being far too casual, especially in front of Silanos. The last thing he needed was the spoiled Lord to have something over him, to find a way to come between the Captain and Leto before anything had even happened. He wasn’t sure what exactly Silanos could do, but he wouldn’t put it past him to do something.
Before Maleos could answer Leto’s question, his legs were giving out from under him. He realized half a second too late what was happening, managing to execute a roll as he hit the ground to avoid being sliced or impaled on his own sword. He felt a white-hot pang of anger, his vision going red for a moment, all thoughts turning to making Silanos pay for his actions. Until a tiny voice in the back of his head reminded him they now had a spectator. The Lord was lucky that Leto had shown up, but he would pay for that dearly when she was gone.
For the moment Maleos simply picked himself up and pushed his hair from his face, regaining his composure. He swallowed the anger, something that he felt had been becoming harder to do recently and pushed it back for the moment. He could take it out later, both on Silanos and on the wooden training dummies. The one he destroyed earlier was now gone, quickly and efficiently disposed of.
“Not a bad time at all, my lady. Please stay, this won’t take me but a moment.” He said, keeping his voice calm and collected even if his anger was still boiling deep down. He was already thinking of ways to get back at Silanos for making him seem like a fool in front of Leto. Had she not been here, he would have simply been a little bit proud of Silanos for being able to do that. But now he was embarrassed, in front of Leto of all people. That would not go unpunished, even if the punishment was a bit petty.
He fell silent then, moving over towards where the equipment was stored, he grabbed a second sword, one that nearly matched his own, though slightly lower quality as it was for training. He turned back and started approaching Silanos once more, swinging both swords for a moment before he came to a stop, facing Silanos. He hoped the man held some sort of regret for his actions. If he did not now, Maleos was sure he would that night when he was training instead of being allowed to sleep.
“You think yourself clever then? Let’s see what you’ve got.” And with that Maleos lunged, a flurry of carefully calculated sword swings found their way towards Silanos. Maleos was sure he could stop them before any real damage was done, but if the Lord happened to suffer a cut? Well that would be just an unfortunate and yet common hazard of training. There was a fire in his eyes that Silanos had not yet seen, something triggered inside the Captain as he swung those swords, something primal, a beast that knew nothing but the sword. He attacked like a man blessed by Ares himself, each movement natural and yet carefully calculated.
Maleos was not yet done with Silanos, Daxos and the other men would be away for quite some time, and he had no plans of letting Silanos rest until then. Maleos doubted his lessons would stick, and the man would go back to being lazy in no time, he was sure of it. But while he was under the Captain’s roof, there was hardly time for rest. He was lucky he was only here temporarily, Maleos was far less lenient on the men of his unit had they acted the way Silanos had. Though he did not call him Lord while he was here with him, in truth Maleos could not treat him the exact same as he would his men. After all, Timaeus had wanted him back in one piece.
Maleos’ attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere as he heard a familiar and very welcome voice. His attention turned to the woman standing to the side of the training sands, looking everything as beautiful as he pictured each time he thought of her. His gaze softened upon seeing her, and the man laying in the sand was all but forgotten as the Captain’s focus was solely on Leto. The woman he loved, though she had yet to find that part out, if he had his way and they had a moment alone together soon, he would make her aware of how he felt. Though that would not be today, not while he was dressed as such, a bit sweaty from the day’s heat and the training he had been doing. She deserved to be told such things by a man who was clean and presentable.
“Leto.” He said, before catching himself being far too casual, especially in front of Silanos. The last thing he needed was the spoiled Lord to have something over him, to find a way to come between the Captain and Leto before anything had even happened. He wasn’t sure what exactly Silanos could do, but he wouldn’t put it past him to do something.
Before Maleos could answer Leto’s question, his legs were giving out from under him. He realized half a second too late what was happening, managing to execute a roll as he hit the ground to avoid being sliced or impaled on his own sword. He felt a white-hot pang of anger, his vision going red for a moment, all thoughts turning to making Silanos pay for his actions. Until a tiny voice in the back of his head reminded him they now had a spectator. The Lord was lucky that Leto had shown up, but he would pay for that dearly when she was gone.
For the moment Maleos simply picked himself up and pushed his hair from his face, regaining his composure. He swallowed the anger, something that he felt had been becoming harder to do recently and pushed it back for the moment. He could take it out later, both on Silanos and on the wooden training dummies. The one he destroyed earlier was now gone, quickly and efficiently disposed of.
“Not a bad time at all, my lady. Please stay, this won’t take me but a moment.” He said, keeping his voice calm and collected even if his anger was still boiling deep down. He was already thinking of ways to get back at Silanos for making him seem like a fool in front of Leto. Had she not been here, he would have simply been a little bit proud of Silanos for being able to do that. But now he was embarrassed, in front of Leto of all people. That would not go unpunished, even if the punishment was a bit petty.
He fell silent then, moving over towards where the equipment was stored, he grabbed a second sword, one that nearly matched his own, though slightly lower quality as it was for training. He turned back and started approaching Silanos once more, swinging both swords for a moment before he came to a stop, facing Silanos. He hoped the man held some sort of regret for his actions. If he did not now, Maleos was sure he would that night when he was training instead of being allowed to sleep.
“You think yourself clever then? Let’s see what you’ve got.” And with that Maleos lunged, a flurry of carefully calculated sword swings found their way towards Silanos. Maleos was sure he could stop them before any real damage was done, but if the Lord happened to suffer a cut? Well that would be just an unfortunate and yet common hazard of training. There was a fire in his eyes that Silanos had not yet seen, something triggered inside the Captain as he swung those swords, something primal, a beast that knew nothing but the sword. He attacked like a man blessed by Ares himself, each movement natural and yet carefully calculated.
Leto noted Silanos' small wave from where he lay in the sand and had to try extra hard to suppress the grin that threatened to break through as she offered the tiniest of waves before her eyes returned to the Captain's face, a truer smile sitting firmly on her lips.
It's lifespan was quite short as she watched the Valaoritis lord's shift in position and his preparation to swipe Maleos clear off his feet. Her expression registered what was about to happen long before she was able to warn him. Instead, her hand lifted to her lips to cover and stifle a surprised sound as she watched Maleos fall backward.
Eyes wide for a moment then blinking rapidly at what she witnessed, she could not help nervous laughter that stuttered in her throat a moment, mostly as a reaction to the unexpected, but also to the oddity of the situation. Seeing the young Captain's expression at the Lord's comment, it was clear that whatever animosity that Lord Silanos held against Captain Maleos according to his last missive was fully reciprocated.
Initially about to protest, even going so far as to straighten and take a step back, the Captain's insistence that this was not a bad time kept her planted by the ring. Well, that *and* her curiosity about how this would shake out.
The moment Captain Maleos back was turned to her as he walked toward the equipment stand, Leto immediately turned her face toward Silanos and shot him a surprised and overtly expressive questioning face, silently mouthing to him, 'What was all THAT?'
Before she could finish mouthing it, Maleos had started turning back and she returned her facial expression to that of somewhat demure interest, her brows still raised and pressing soft lines into her forehead. Maleos now wielded two swords, spinning them in a rather threatening fashion towards the Valaoritis lord in a way that pulled a slight expression of concern across her face.
"A-are you training for something in partic-..."
Her voice was immediately quieted by the flurry of sword swipes that Maleos launched against Silanos. As she watched, she felt both a sense of concern wash over her for the young lord who was clearly on the defense now and a wash of feeling highly impressed by the swordplay offered by the Captain. Leaning forward with her hands gripping the railing in front of her and her mouth open in a soft 'o' of both interest and concern, each move seemed to make her heart flutter slightly in her chest.
There was a nervousness in her gut as she watched both men in action, and it was a feeling that unsettled her and felt unfamiliar. It was not something she could recognize, but stemmed from the difficult position she found herself in - as she watch their bout, she could not determine who she wished to see prevail, and that was disconcerting. If one of them 'won' then the other would lose, which gave her the oddly childish internal thought that she'd 'prefer' neither of them lose.
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Leto noted Silanos' small wave from where he lay in the sand and had to try extra hard to suppress the grin that threatened to break through as she offered the tiniest of waves before her eyes returned to the Captain's face, a truer smile sitting firmly on her lips.
It's lifespan was quite short as she watched the Valaoritis lord's shift in position and his preparation to swipe Maleos clear off his feet. Her expression registered what was about to happen long before she was able to warn him. Instead, her hand lifted to her lips to cover and stifle a surprised sound as she watched Maleos fall backward.
Eyes wide for a moment then blinking rapidly at what she witnessed, she could not help nervous laughter that stuttered in her throat a moment, mostly as a reaction to the unexpected, but also to the oddity of the situation. Seeing the young Captain's expression at the Lord's comment, it was clear that whatever animosity that Lord Silanos held against Captain Maleos according to his last missive was fully reciprocated.
Initially about to protest, even going so far as to straighten and take a step back, the Captain's insistence that this was not a bad time kept her planted by the ring. Well, that *and* her curiosity about how this would shake out.
The moment Captain Maleos back was turned to her as he walked toward the equipment stand, Leto immediately turned her face toward Silanos and shot him a surprised and overtly expressive questioning face, silently mouthing to him, 'What was all THAT?'
Before she could finish mouthing it, Maleos had started turning back and she returned her facial expression to that of somewhat demure interest, her brows still raised and pressing soft lines into her forehead. Maleos now wielded two swords, spinning them in a rather threatening fashion towards the Valaoritis lord in a way that pulled a slight expression of concern across her face.
"A-are you training for something in partic-..."
Her voice was immediately quieted by the flurry of sword swipes that Maleos launched against Silanos. As she watched, she felt both a sense of concern wash over her for the young lord who was clearly on the defense now and a wash of feeling highly impressed by the swordplay offered by the Captain. Leaning forward with her hands gripping the railing in front of her and her mouth open in a soft 'o' of both interest and concern, each move seemed to make her heart flutter slightly in her chest.
There was a nervousness in her gut as she watched both men in action, and it was a feeling that unsettled her and felt unfamiliar. It was not something she could recognize, but stemmed from the difficult position she found herself in - as she watch their bout, she could not determine who she wished to see prevail, and that was disconcerting. If one of them 'won' then the other would lose, which gave her the oddly childish internal thought that she'd 'prefer' neither of them lose.
Leto noted Silanos' small wave from where he lay in the sand and had to try extra hard to suppress the grin that threatened to break through as she offered the tiniest of waves before her eyes returned to the Captain's face, a truer smile sitting firmly on her lips.
It's lifespan was quite short as she watched the Valaoritis lord's shift in position and his preparation to swipe Maleos clear off his feet. Her expression registered what was about to happen long before she was able to warn him. Instead, her hand lifted to her lips to cover and stifle a surprised sound as she watched Maleos fall backward.
Eyes wide for a moment then blinking rapidly at what she witnessed, she could not help nervous laughter that stuttered in her throat a moment, mostly as a reaction to the unexpected, but also to the oddity of the situation. Seeing the young Captain's expression at the Lord's comment, it was clear that whatever animosity that Lord Silanos held against Captain Maleos according to his last missive was fully reciprocated.
Initially about to protest, even going so far as to straighten and take a step back, the Captain's insistence that this was not a bad time kept her planted by the ring. Well, that *and* her curiosity about how this would shake out.
The moment Captain Maleos back was turned to her as he walked toward the equipment stand, Leto immediately turned her face toward Silanos and shot him a surprised and overtly expressive questioning face, silently mouthing to him, 'What was all THAT?'
Before she could finish mouthing it, Maleos had started turning back and she returned her facial expression to that of somewhat demure interest, her brows still raised and pressing soft lines into her forehead. Maleos now wielded two swords, spinning them in a rather threatening fashion towards the Valaoritis lord in a way that pulled a slight expression of concern across her face.
"A-are you training for something in partic-..."
Her voice was immediately quieted by the flurry of sword swipes that Maleos launched against Silanos. As she watched, she felt both a sense of concern wash over her for the young lord who was clearly on the defense now and a wash of feeling highly impressed by the swordplay offered by the Captain. Leaning forward with her hands gripping the railing in front of her and her mouth open in a soft 'o' of both interest and concern, each move seemed to make her heart flutter slightly in her chest.
There was a nervousness in her gut as she watched both men in action, and it was a feeling that unsettled her and felt unfamiliar. It was not something she could recognize, but stemmed from the difficult position she found herself in - as she watch their bout, she could not determine who she wished to see prevail, and that was disconcerting. If one of them 'won' then the other would lose, which gave her the oddly childish internal thought that she'd 'prefer' neither of them lose.
The momentary flicker of surprise as he realised he was falling, dull thud of Captain Maleos stacking it, was a memory Sil would treasure. It was worth it, and he was quietly amused as he slowly pushed back to his own feet, brushing half-heartedly at the sand and grit that clung to him like a second skin. Only, it didn’t take much to discern that the Captain was not amused, even if he soon settled it, tried to play it down in front of Leto. Silanos shot her a look, wondering if she would be offended on her friend’s behalf, but deciding that he didn’t care. He had to take his victories where he could find them, small as they might be.
Still, even Silanos was not immune to feeling a bit apprehensive at whatever ‘would take but a moment’, and he frowned at Maleos’ departing back, sparing another glance at the woman by the fence who was giving him one of those looks that she clearly thought spoke loudly, but that Sil just blinked at and gave a shrug. There was hardly time for more anyway, because his focus was drawn back to the Captain, who was now striding back towards him brandishing two swords and looking less than friendly.
Fuck. This was going to be bad, wasn’t it?
The Valaoritis Lord stared back at Maleos when the man stopped in front of him, reminding himself that despite appearances, the man would not kill him. Would he? He was Timaeus’ friend, and presumably valued his career. And then he remebered Leto, and decided the Captain would definitely not commit murder in front of her. He would have to thank her for it later. But right then, Sil was more concerned with the man before him, and he just gave a sullen shrug at the question, because it hardly seemed like Maleos would want to hear that, yes actually, he did think he was clever.
In fact, it seemed he didn't want an answer at all, because abruptly Sil was trying to fend off a flurry of sword strikes from what felt like all angles. His balance was off, and it cost him because he stumbled a little as he moved backwards under the onslaught, suddenly doubting his confidence that Maleos wouldn’t kill him in front of the lady. He couldn’t keep up with even one of the blades the other man wielded so unforgivingly, never mind two, and there was the scrape of metal against metal before Silanos felt a sharp sting across his forearm.
“Fuck!” He stepped back again, away from the blades that still threatened, his own blade clattering to the floor as the young Lord pulled his arm back, looking outraged at the spreading crimson. “You fucking dolt!” Silanos wrapped his fingers around his arm, not generous enough to consider that the injury had been anything other than deliberately inflicted. It stung, burned hot and though he knew enough to know it wasn’t anything too serious, he was not a fan of seeing his own blood spilt, and it was happening too often for his liking here.
Shallow the slice might have been, it was still dripping red between his fingers and on to the sand, and Sil remembered Leto was there, at least half twisted away in case she was squeamish. He shot Maleos a dark look over one shoulder. “Are we done here then, Captain? Made your point?”
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The momentary flicker of surprise as he realised he was falling, dull thud of Captain Maleos stacking it, was a memory Sil would treasure. It was worth it, and he was quietly amused as he slowly pushed back to his own feet, brushing half-heartedly at the sand and grit that clung to him like a second skin. Only, it didn’t take much to discern that the Captain was not amused, even if he soon settled it, tried to play it down in front of Leto. Silanos shot her a look, wondering if she would be offended on her friend’s behalf, but deciding that he didn’t care. He had to take his victories where he could find them, small as they might be.
Still, even Silanos was not immune to feeling a bit apprehensive at whatever ‘would take but a moment’, and he frowned at Maleos’ departing back, sparing another glance at the woman by the fence who was giving him one of those looks that she clearly thought spoke loudly, but that Sil just blinked at and gave a shrug. There was hardly time for more anyway, because his focus was drawn back to the Captain, who was now striding back towards him brandishing two swords and looking less than friendly.
Fuck. This was going to be bad, wasn’t it?
The Valaoritis Lord stared back at Maleos when the man stopped in front of him, reminding himself that despite appearances, the man would not kill him. Would he? He was Timaeus’ friend, and presumably valued his career. And then he remebered Leto, and decided the Captain would definitely not commit murder in front of her. He would have to thank her for it later. But right then, Sil was more concerned with the man before him, and he just gave a sullen shrug at the question, because it hardly seemed like Maleos would want to hear that, yes actually, he did think he was clever.
In fact, it seemed he didn't want an answer at all, because abruptly Sil was trying to fend off a flurry of sword strikes from what felt like all angles. His balance was off, and it cost him because he stumbled a little as he moved backwards under the onslaught, suddenly doubting his confidence that Maleos wouldn’t kill him in front of the lady. He couldn’t keep up with even one of the blades the other man wielded so unforgivingly, never mind two, and there was the scrape of metal against metal before Silanos felt a sharp sting across his forearm.
“Fuck!” He stepped back again, away from the blades that still threatened, his own blade clattering to the floor as the young Lord pulled his arm back, looking outraged at the spreading crimson. “You fucking dolt!” Silanos wrapped his fingers around his arm, not generous enough to consider that the injury had been anything other than deliberately inflicted. It stung, burned hot and though he knew enough to know it wasn’t anything too serious, he was not a fan of seeing his own blood spilt, and it was happening too often for his liking here.
Shallow the slice might have been, it was still dripping red between his fingers and on to the sand, and Sil remembered Leto was there, at least half twisted away in case she was squeamish. He shot Maleos a dark look over one shoulder. “Are we done here then, Captain? Made your point?”
The momentary flicker of surprise as he realised he was falling, dull thud of Captain Maleos stacking it, was a memory Sil would treasure. It was worth it, and he was quietly amused as he slowly pushed back to his own feet, brushing half-heartedly at the sand and grit that clung to him like a second skin. Only, it didn’t take much to discern that the Captain was not amused, even if he soon settled it, tried to play it down in front of Leto. Silanos shot her a look, wondering if she would be offended on her friend’s behalf, but deciding that he didn’t care. He had to take his victories where he could find them, small as they might be.
Still, even Silanos was not immune to feeling a bit apprehensive at whatever ‘would take but a moment’, and he frowned at Maleos’ departing back, sparing another glance at the woman by the fence who was giving him one of those looks that she clearly thought spoke loudly, but that Sil just blinked at and gave a shrug. There was hardly time for more anyway, because his focus was drawn back to the Captain, who was now striding back towards him brandishing two swords and looking less than friendly.
Fuck. This was going to be bad, wasn’t it?
The Valaoritis Lord stared back at Maleos when the man stopped in front of him, reminding himself that despite appearances, the man would not kill him. Would he? He was Timaeus’ friend, and presumably valued his career. And then he remebered Leto, and decided the Captain would definitely not commit murder in front of her. He would have to thank her for it later. But right then, Sil was more concerned with the man before him, and he just gave a sullen shrug at the question, because it hardly seemed like Maleos would want to hear that, yes actually, he did think he was clever.
In fact, it seemed he didn't want an answer at all, because abruptly Sil was trying to fend off a flurry of sword strikes from what felt like all angles. His balance was off, and it cost him because he stumbled a little as he moved backwards under the onslaught, suddenly doubting his confidence that Maleos wouldn’t kill him in front of the lady. He couldn’t keep up with even one of the blades the other man wielded so unforgivingly, never mind two, and there was the scrape of metal against metal before Silanos felt a sharp sting across his forearm.
“Fuck!” He stepped back again, away from the blades that still threatened, his own blade clattering to the floor as the young Lord pulled his arm back, looking outraged at the spreading crimson. “You fucking dolt!” Silanos wrapped his fingers around his arm, not generous enough to consider that the injury had been anything other than deliberately inflicted. It stung, burned hot and though he knew enough to know it wasn’t anything too serious, he was not a fan of seeing his own blood spilt, and it was happening too often for his liking here.
Shallow the slice might have been, it was still dripping red between his fingers and on to the sand, and Sil remembered Leto was there, at least half twisted away in case she was squeamish. He shot Maleos a dark look over one shoulder. “Are we done here then, Captain? Made your point?”
Maleos’ swings were relentless, caught up in his own anger, though not as much as he would be if Leto was not there. He didn’t let himself celebrate as one of his blades found its mark and caught flesh, leaving a mild wound on the other man’s arm. From his reaction, one would think Maleos’ sword was sticking out the other side of him. He lowered his weapons, feeling a bit better about the whole situation as Silanos’ blood marked his blade and the sand beneath their feet.
“Would it matter if I had made my point? No lesson would get through that thick head of yours. Not one paid in dishonor, sweat or blood. You will continue your ways until you have nothing, and no one left, and it is then that I hope you remember that you had every opportunity to change your fate.” He said, keeping his voice low so Leto would not hear his words. He tossed the practice sword down in the sand, Sil’s blood still on it, before tucking his own back in its sheath. He turned back towards Leto, walking over to her as he called for one of the barracks slaves.
“Aneaus! See his wound cleaned and tended to, lest he lose his arm.” He said, and the slave hurried to do just that as Maleos approached Leto, standing on the other side of the railing from her so he did not invade her personal space. He wasn’t sure what her reaction to the sword fight would be, not knowing if she had ever seen anyone injured before, even if it was minor.
“Apologies, my lady. Some people need to learn their lessons the hard way.” He said, his expression and tone a lot lighter now that he was near her, a gentle softness lit up his blue-green eyes as he took her in, he could feel his heart beat increasing just being near her.
“I certainly did not expect to see you here at my barracks, though I can not say that it is an unpleasant surprise.” He gave her a little smile, though he was berating himself for sounding like a complete moron. Words were not his strong suit, and unfortunately sword play did not tend to show a woman how you felt about her. He was suddenly very aware of the sweat that was layered on his skin, and the casual way he was dressed. Had he known she was coming, he would have made himself presentable.
“I would offer you some wine, but I do not allow such things to enter the barracks, I prefer my men with minds as sharp as their swords.” He said, only then noticing that she had a package with her, and he recalled in her letter that she had wished to thank him with a gift of some sort. He would have been more than content had the gift simply been her company. Though it would have been more desirable to have such under different circumstances. She had certainly chose an interesting time to appear.
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Maleos’ swings were relentless, caught up in his own anger, though not as much as he would be if Leto was not there. He didn’t let himself celebrate as one of his blades found its mark and caught flesh, leaving a mild wound on the other man’s arm. From his reaction, one would think Maleos’ sword was sticking out the other side of him. He lowered his weapons, feeling a bit better about the whole situation as Silanos’ blood marked his blade and the sand beneath their feet.
“Would it matter if I had made my point? No lesson would get through that thick head of yours. Not one paid in dishonor, sweat or blood. You will continue your ways until you have nothing, and no one left, and it is then that I hope you remember that you had every opportunity to change your fate.” He said, keeping his voice low so Leto would not hear his words. He tossed the practice sword down in the sand, Sil’s blood still on it, before tucking his own back in its sheath. He turned back towards Leto, walking over to her as he called for one of the barracks slaves.
“Aneaus! See his wound cleaned and tended to, lest he lose his arm.” He said, and the slave hurried to do just that as Maleos approached Leto, standing on the other side of the railing from her so he did not invade her personal space. He wasn’t sure what her reaction to the sword fight would be, not knowing if she had ever seen anyone injured before, even if it was minor.
“Apologies, my lady. Some people need to learn their lessons the hard way.” He said, his expression and tone a lot lighter now that he was near her, a gentle softness lit up his blue-green eyes as he took her in, he could feel his heart beat increasing just being near her.
“I certainly did not expect to see you here at my barracks, though I can not say that it is an unpleasant surprise.” He gave her a little smile, though he was berating himself for sounding like a complete moron. Words were not his strong suit, and unfortunately sword play did not tend to show a woman how you felt about her. He was suddenly very aware of the sweat that was layered on his skin, and the casual way he was dressed. Had he known she was coming, he would have made himself presentable.
“I would offer you some wine, but I do not allow such things to enter the barracks, I prefer my men with minds as sharp as their swords.” He said, only then noticing that she had a package with her, and he recalled in her letter that she had wished to thank him with a gift of some sort. He would have been more than content had the gift simply been her company. Though it would have been more desirable to have such under different circumstances. She had certainly chose an interesting time to appear.
Maleos’ swings were relentless, caught up in his own anger, though not as much as he would be if Leto was not there. He didn’t let himself celebrate as one of his blades found its mark and caught flesh, leaving a mild wound on the other man’s arm. From his reaction, one would think Maleos’ sword was sticking out the other side of him. He lowered his weapons, feeling a bit better about the whole situation as Silanos’ blood marked his blade and the sand beneath their feet.
“Would it matter if I had made my point? No lesson would get through that thick head of yours. Not one paid in dishonor, sweat or blood. You will continue your ways until you have nothing, and no one left, and it is then that I hope you remember that you had every opportunity to change your fate.” He said, keeping his voice low so Leto would not hear his words. He tossed the practice sword down in the sand, Sil’s blood still on it, before tucking his own back in its sheath. He turned back towards Leto, walking over to her as he called for one of the barracks slaves.
“Aneaus! See his wound cleaned and tended to, lest he lose his arm.” He said, and the slave hurried to do just that as Maleos approached Leto, standing on the other side of the railing from her so he did not invade her personal space. He wasn’t sure what her reaction to the sword fight would be, not knowing if she had ever seen anyone injured before, even if it was minor.
“Apologies, my lady. Some people need to learn their lessons the hard way.” He said, his expression and tone a lot lighter now that he was near her, a gentle softness lit up his blue-green eyes as he took her in, he could feel his heart beat increasing just being near her.
“I certainly did not expect to see you here at my barracks, though I can not say that it is an unpleasant surprise.” He gave her a little smile, though he was berating himself for sounding like a complete moron. Words were not his strong suit, and unfortunately sword play did not tend to show a woman how you felt about her. He was suddenly very aware of the sweat that was layered on his skin, and the casual way he was dressed. Had he known she was coming, he would have made himself presentable.
“I would offer you some wine, but I do not allow such things to enter the barracks, I prefer my men with minds as sharp as their swords.” He said, only then noticing that she had a package with her, and he recalled in her letter that she had wished to thank him with a gift of some sort. He would have been more than content had the gift simply been her company. Though it would have been more desirable to have such under different circumstances. She had certainly chose an interesting time to appear.
Leto watched with tense anticipation as she noted the clear differences in their skills and abilities. Maleos moved with the confidence of a practiced soldier, his motions graceful almost like a dancer in the chorus of a staged production. Lord Silanos immediately took a defensive stance, one that even Leto found to be a weak attempt. He was facing Maleos too forward as opposed to setting himself sideways, making himself a smaller target.
While part of her mind wanted to keep focus on the simple sparring of it all, there was a tenseness in the air, as she noticed the widening of the young nobleman's eyes and the surprising speed at which the Captain attacked. This did not seem like a simple training and sparring, and Leto's expression reflected that.
Lord Silanos had mentioned punishment in the exchange of missives, as well as his disdain for Captain Maleos. While she knew that her own friendship with the Captain may have been something that stood on its own, she could see how the young lord saw this as unfair punishment. Then again, knowing that his transgressions were so severe, this punishment also seemed, fitting? It was not being sent away to the mines, after all, where many worked and labored for sins far less severe than his own.
Leto found herself torn on her feelings, but all that thought stopped as soon as the curses and exclamations left Lord Silanos' lips. The ruby drips of blood down his arms had Leto's eyes as wide as saucers, her hands going to cover her mouth in womanly shock.
Even more surprising was the tone that the Captain took with the injured man, though she could not hear the words, leaving her blinking a moment. Leto began to regret her venture to the barracks in that moment. If this had all happened outside of her sight, she would have been able to process it, but seeing it before her, there was an uncertainty bubbling in the pit of her stomach at this.
As Maleos approached, Leto lowered her hand a bit, her expression not having smoothed out entirely by the time the barracks slave ran to the bleeding nobleman's side. Her eyes were fixed on Silanos for a moment before meeting Maleos' as he issued his apology. There was a sharp edge to his tone that she was unfamiliar with. Granted, they had not spent all that much time together, and when they had, there were more smiles and nostalgic jests. Trying to recover, she swallowed and flickered the slightest attempt at a smile, as she asked, "Do you often draw blood on your opponents in training, Captain?"
It was a feeble attempt at ill-timed humor, and the jest of it did not fully reach her voice and certainly not her eyes. Worry wrinkles from her brows marked her lingering concern as her eyes glanced back at Silanos, then down at the package in her hands.
Maleos words were kind in their own way, but her mind was also preoccupied. This was ill-timed. This was a terrible idea. She should have just sent a messenger with the gift when she sent the missive, but in her own way, she had almost hoped to find a few moment with Maleos - the Maleos she knew, who would spar with her.
Now, looking at the blood dotting the sand in the ring, she had her doubts.
"I thank you for your offer, Captain, but...I am starting to think I should not have come," she said, offering an apologetic smile that faltered as she looked to Silanos - in a way, she was addressing him as well, and shifted some of the direction of her words towards him as well, "It was never my intention to interfere with....this. I proved a distraction and someone was hurt as a result."
Eyes catching Silanos' eyes, she dipped into the slightest curtsey with an apology in her eyes, "I am grieved by it and I apologize."
Looking back to Maleos, she held out the package in her hands, "I only wanted to give you this, in gratitude for your call to arms at the Dikastirio...and knowing what the coming days may bring." After all, she was the Master Informer's sister. She knew of the impending war with Egypt, though she would not say it.
As she placed the parcel in Maleos' hands, her eyes could not help but flicker back to Lord Silanos as the slave tended to his arm.
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Leto watched with tense anticipation as she noted the clear differences in their skills and abilities. Maleos moved with the confidence of a practiced soldier, his motions graceful almost like a dancer in the chorus of a staged production. Lord Silanos immediately took a defensive stance, one that even Leto found to be a weak attempt. He was facing Maleos too forward as opposed to setting himself sideways, making himself a smaller target.
While part of her mind wanted to keep focus on the simple sparring of it all, there was a tenseness in the air, as she noticed the widening of the young nobleman's eyes and the surprising speed at which the Captain attacked. This did not seem like a simple training and sparring, and Leto's expression reflected that.
Lord Silanos had mentioned punishment in the exchange of missives, as well as his disdain for Captain Maleos. While she knew that her own friendship with the Captain may have been something that stood on its own, she could see how the young lord saw this as unfair punishment. Then again, knowing that his transgressions were so severe, this punishment also seemed, fitting? It was not being sent away to the mines, after all, where many worked and labored for sins far less severe than his own.
Leto found herself torn on her feelings, but all that thought stopped as soon as the curses and exclamations left Lord Silanos' lips. The ruby drips of blood down his arms had Leto's eyes as wide as saucers, her hands going to cover her mouth in womanly shock.
Even more surprising was the tone that the Captain took with the injured man, though she could not hear the words, leaving her blinking a moment. Leto began to regret her venture to the barracks in that moment. If this had all happened outside of her sight, she would have been able to process it, but seeing it before her, there was an uncertainty bubbling in the pit of her stomach at this.
As Maleos approached, Leto lowered her hand a bit, her expression not having smoothed out entirely by the time the barracks slave ran to the bleeding nobleman's side. Her eyes were fixed on Silanos for a moment before meeting Maleos' as he issued his apology. There was a sharp edge to his tone that she was unfamiliar with. Granted, they had not spent all that much time together, and when they had, there were more smiles and nostalgic jests. Trying to recover, she swallowed and flickered the slightest attempt at a smile, as she asked, "Do you often draw blood on your opponents in training, Captain?"
It was a feeble attempt at ill-timed humor, and the jest of it did not fully reach her voice and certainly not her eyes. Worry wrinkles from her brows marked her lingering concern as her eyes glanced back at Silanos, then down at the package in her hands.
Maleos words were kind in their own way, but her mind was also preoccupied. This was ill-timed. This was a terrible idea. She should have just sent a messenger with the gift when she sent the missive, but in her own way, she had almost hoped to find a few moment with Maleos - the Maleos she knew, who would spar with her.
Now, looking at the blood dotting the sand in the ring, she had her doubts.
"I thank you for your offer, Captain, but...I am starting to think I should not have come," she said, offering an apologetic smile that faltered as she looked to Silanos - in a way, she was addressing him as well, and shifted some of the direction of her words towards him as well, "It was never my intention to interfere with....this. I proved a distraction and someone was hurt as a result."
Eyes catching Silanos' eyes, she dipped into the slightest curtsey with an apology in her eyes, "I am grieved by it and I apologize."
Looking back to Maleos, she held out the package in her hands, "I only wanted to give you this, in gratitude for your call to arms at the Dikastirio...and knowing what the coming days may bring." After all, she was the Master Informer's sister. She knew of the impending war with Egypt, though she would not say it.
As she placed the parcel in Maleos' hands, her eyes could not help but flicker back to Lord Silanos as the slave tended to his arm.
Leto watched with tense anticipation as she noted the clear differences in their skills and abilities. Maleos moved with the confidence of a practiced soldier, his motions graceful almost like a dancer in the chorus of a staged production. Lord Silanos immediately took a defensive stance, one that even Leto found to be a weak attempt. He was facing Maleos too forward as opposed to setting himself sideways, making himself a smaller target.
While part of her mind wanted to keep focus on the simple sparring of it all, there was a tenseness in the air, as she noticed the widening of the young nobleman's eyes and the surprising speed at which the Captain attacked. This did not seem like a simple training and sparring, and Leto's expression reflected that.
Lord Silanos had mentioned punishment in the exchange of missives, as well as his disdain for Captain Maleos. While she knew that her own friendship with the Captain may have been something that stood on its own, she could see how the young lord saw this as unfair punishment. Then again, knowing that his transgressions were so severe, this punishment also seemed, fitting? It was not being sent away to the mines, after all, where many worked and labored for sins far less severe than his own.
Leto found herself torn on her feelings, but all that thought stopped as soon as the curses and exclamations left Lord Silanos' lips. The ruby drips of blood down his arms had Leto's eyes as wide as saucers, her hands going to cover her mouth in womanly shock.
Even more surprising was the tone that the Captain took with the injured man, though she could not hear the words, leaving her blinking a moment. Leto began to regret her venture to the barracks in that moment. If this had all happened outside of her sight, she would have been able to process it, but seeing it before her, there was an uncertainty bubbling in the pit of her stomach at this.
As Maleos approached, Leto lowered her hand a bit, her expression not having smoothed out entirely by the time the barracks slave ran to the bleeding nobleman's side. Her eyes were fixed on Silanos for a moment before meeting Maleos' as he issued his apology. There was a sharp edge to his tone that she was unfamiliar with. Granted, they had not spent all that much time together, and when they had, there were more smiles and nostalgic jests. Trying to recover, she swallowed and flickered the slightest attempt at a smile, as she asked, "Do you often draw blood on your opponents in training, Captain?"
It was a feeble attempt at ill-timed humor, and the jest of it did not fully reach her voice and certainly not her eyes. Worry wrinkles from her brows marked her lingering concern as her eyes glanced back at Silanos, then down at the package in her hands.
Maleos words were kind in their own way, but her mind was also preoccupied. This was ill-timed. This was a terrible idea. She should have just sent a messenger with the gift when she sent the missive, but in her own way, she had almost hoped to find a few moment with Maleos - the Maleos she knew, who would spar with her.
Now, looking at the blood dotting the sand in the ring, she had her doubts.
"I thank you for your offer, Captain, but...I am starting to think I should not have come," she said, offering an apologetic smile that faltered as she looked to Silanos - in a way, she was addressing him as well, and shifted some of the direction of her words towards him as well, "It was never my intention to interfere with....this. I proved a distraction and someone was hurt as a result."
Eyes catching Silanos' eyes, she dipped into the slightest curtsey with an apology in her eyes, "I am grieved by it and I apologize."
Looking back to Maleos, she held out the package in her hands, "I only wanted to give you this, in gratitude for your call to arms at the Dikastirio...and knowing what the coming days may bring." After all, she was the Master Informer's sister. She knew of the impending war with Egypt, though she would not say it.
As she placed the parcel in Maleos' hands, her eyes could not help but flicker back to Lord Silanos as the slave tended to his arm.
Silanos stared at the Captain, face still as Maleos upbraided him. He would not give the man the satisfaction of seeing it, but his words landed with some surety, and Sil masked it with a snort of feigned inddiference, all the while feeling the slippery pulse of his own blood beneath his fingers. It was almost amusing, the fact that Maleos seemed to think he had the right to lecture him, as if the fool understood anything. Only almost amusing though, because Sil was stuck fucking living this judgemental crap.
“Whatever you say, Captain Maleos. I’m sure you know best” His voice was flat, expressionless because Silanos kept coming up against the same wall. He could act out and spit whatever words he wanted to at the soldier, but the uncomfortable truth of it was that given Tim’s edict, Sil was mostly powerless here, and it was getting tiresome being on the receiving end of whatever brutality was deemed necessary to see him learn his lesson.
Resisting the urge to flinch back from the sword that the other man tossed down upon the sand, the Valaoritis Lord glanced toward Leto, wondering what she would make of her heroic Captain now. His gaze, a resigned sort of ‘I told you so’ rested upon her only a moment before the approaching slave drew his focus, and Silanos let the man attend to the cut, hissing a little through his teeth when the servant sluiced alcohol over his forearm so the blood thinned and ran pink. It stung something fierce, but the cut was not terribly deep. It was more the indignity of it, and Sil would be pissed if he carried a scar from the man who now spoke to Leto.
As the slave bound a length of clean linen about his arm and tied it off deftly, Silanos watched the two interact with more than a little curiosity. Leto’s eyes wandered to him more than once,and the young Lord found himself trying to catch what was being said between them, without much success. Whatever it was, the woman did not look overly pleased, and there was a hint of satisfaction in the idea that Maleos might have shown himself up in some way. When Leto caught his gaze with her own and dipped into a curtsey, he gave a little shake of his head. This wasn’t her fault.
It was her idiot friend, and ok yes perhaps a little Silanos’ own fault for having goaded the man, but gods, he was a sanctimonious prick. With a nod of dismissal to the slave who had finished, Sil wandered over towards where the two conversed.
“Don’t apologise on my account, Leto. You can’t be held responsible for the fact that even our best swordsman are sloppy sometimes. And who can blame the good Captain. You look lovely today. Doesn’t she, Captain Maleos?”. The compliment was thrown in casually, but Sil was less than casual in the way he observed Maleos for a reaction. Exactly how close was he to the woman on the other side of the fence? Or more to the point, how close did he want to be? The idea was a novel one, and despite his irritation at his situation, Silanos was hard pressed to quiet his curiosity. Maybe that was why Leto had been so quick to leap to Maleos’ defence in her letter?
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Silanos stared at the Captain, face still as Maleos upbraided him. He would not give the man the satisfaction of seeing it, but his words landed with some surety, and Sil masked it with a snort of feigned inddiference, all the while feeling the slippery pulse of his own blood beneath his fingers. It was almost amusing, the fact that Maleos seemed to think he had the right to lecture him, as if the fool understood anything. Only almost amusing though, because Sil was stuck fucking living this judgemental crap.
“Whatever you say, Captain Maleos. I’m sure you know best” His voice was flat, expressionless because Silanos kept coming up against the same wall. He could act out and spit whatever words he wanted to at the soldier, but the uncomfortable truth of it was that given Tim’s edict, Sil was mostly powerless here, and it was getting tiresome being on the receiving end of whatever brutality was deemed necessary to see him learn his lesson.
Resisting the urge to flinch back from the sword that the other man tossed down upon the sand, the Valaoritis Lord glanced toward Leto, wondering what she would make of her heroic Captain now. His gaze, a resigned sort of ‘I told you so’ rested upon her only a moment before the approaching slave drew his focus, and Silanos let the man attend to the cut, hissing a little through his teeth when the servant sluiced alcohol over his forearm so the blood thinned and ran pink. It stung something fierce, but the cut was not terribly deep. It was more the indignity of it, and Sil would be pissed if he carried a scar from the man who now spoke to Leto.
As the slave bound a length of clean linen about his arm and tied it off deftly, Silanos watched the two interact with more than a little curiosity. Leto’s eyes wandered to him more than once,and the young Lord found himself trying to catch what was being said between them, without much success. Whatever it was, the woman did not look overly pleased, and there was a hint of satisfaction in the idea that Maleos might have shown himself up in some way. When Leto caught his gaze with her own and dipped into a curtsey, he gave a little shake of his head. This wasn’t her fault.
It was her idiot friend, and ok yes perhaps a little Silanos’ own fault for having goaded the man, but gods, he was a sanctimonious prick. With a nod of dismissal to the slave who had finished, Sil wandered over towards where the two conversed.
“Don’t apologise on my account, Leto. You can’t be held responsible for the fact that even our best swordsman are sloppy sometimes. And who can blame the good Captain. You look lovely today. Doesn’t she, Captain Maleos?”. The compliment was thrown in casually, but Sil was less than casual in the way he observed Maleos for a reaction. Exactly how close was he to the woman on the other side of the fence? Or more to the point, how close did he want to be? The idea was a novel one, and despite his irritation at his situation, Silanos was hard pressed to quiet his curiosity. Maybe that was why Leto had been so quick to leap to Maleos’ defence in her letter?
Silanos stared at the Captain, face still as Maleos upbraided him. He would not give the man the satisfaction of seeing it, but his words landed with some surety, and Sil masked it with a snort of feigned inddiference, all the while feeling the slippery pulse of his own blood beneath his fingers. It was almost amusing, the fact that Maleos seemed to think he had the right to lecture him, as if the fool understood anything. Only almost amusing though, because Sil was stuck fucking living this judgemental crap.
“Whatever you say, Captain Maleos. I’m sure you know best” His voice was flat, expressionless because Silanos kept coming up against the same wall. He could act out and spit whatever words he wanted to at the soldier, but the uncomfortable truth of it was that given Tim’s edict, Sil was mostly powerless here, and it was getting tiresome being on the receiving end of whatever brutality was deemed necessary to see him learn his lesson.
Resisting the urge to flinch back from the sword that the other man tossed down upon the sand, the Valaoritis Lord glanced toward Leto, wondering what she would make of her heroic Captain now. His gaze, a resigned sort of ‘I told you so’ rested upon her only a moment before the approaching slave drew his focus, and Silanos let the man attend to the cut, hissing a little through his teeth when the servant sluiced alcohol over his forearm so the blood thinned and ran pink. It stung something fierce, but the cut was not terribly deep. It was more the indignity of it, and Sil would be pissed if he carried a scar from the man who now spoke to Leto.
As the slave bound a length of clean linen about his arm and tied it off deftly, Silanos watched the two interact with more than a little curiosity. Leto’s eyes wandered to him more than once,and the young Lord found himself trying to catch what was being said between them, without much success. Whatever it was, the woman did not look overly pleased, and there was a hint of satisfaction in the idea that Maleos might have shown himself up in some way. When Leto caught his gaze with her own and dipped into a curtsey, he gave a little shake of his head. This wasn’t her fault.
It was her idiot friend, and ok yes perhaps a little Silanos’ own fault for having goaded the man, but gods, he was a sanctimonious prick. With a nod of dismissal to the slave who had finished, Sil wandered over towards where the two conversed.
“Don’t apologise on my account, Leto. You can’t be held responsible for the fact that even our best swordsman are sloppy sometimes. And who can blame the good Captain. You look lovely today. Doesn’t she, Captain Maleos?”. The compliment was thrown in casually, but Sil was less than casual in the way he observed Maleos for a reaction. Exactly how close was he to the woman on the other side of the fence? Or more to the point, how close did he want to be? The idea was a novel one, and despite his irritation at his situation, Silanos was hard pressed to quiet his curiosity. Maybe that was why Leto had been so quick to leap to Maleos’ defence in her letter?