‘I know that too,’ said Damen.
He got the closest thing to a smile he’d received from Jord. ‘You weren’t that good when you fought Govart.’
‘When I fought Govart,’ said Damen, ‘I had my lungs full of chalis.’
Another slow nod.
‘I’m not sure how it is in Akielos,’ said Jord, ‘but . . . you shouldn’t take that stuff before a fight. Slows your reflexes. Saps your strength. Just some friendly advice.’
‘Thank you,’ said Damen, after a long, drawn out moment had passed.
* * *
When it happened, it was Lazar again, and Aimeric. It was the third night of the ride, and they were camped at Bailleux Keep, a brokendown structure with a fancy name. Lodgings inside were poor enough that the men eschewed the barracks and even Laurent remained in his confection of a tent rather than spend the night indoors, but there were a few household servants in attendance and the keep formed part of a supply line that allowed the men to restock.
However the fight started, by the time anyone else heard it, Aimeric was on the ground with Lazar standing over him. He was dusty but unblooded this time. It was bad luck that Govart was the one to intervene, which he did, dragging Aimeric up, and then backhanding him across the face for making trouble. Govart was one of the first to arrive, but by the time Aimeric was rising to his feet nursing his jaw, a respectable crowd was gathering, drawn by the noise.
It was bad luck that it was late evening, and that most of the work for the day was done, giving the men free time to gather.
Jord had to physically hold Orlant back, and Govart didn’t help by telling Jord to keep his men in line. Aimeric wasn’t here to get special treatment, Govart said, and if anyone retaliated against Lazar, they’d get the post. Violence slid across the men like oil waiting for a flame, and if Lazar had made a single move of aggression it would have ignited, but he took a step back, and had the good grace—or the smarts—to look troubled with Govart’s pronouncement rather than pleased.
Jord somehow managed to keep the peace, but when the men dispersed, he broke the chain of command completely, and made straight for Laurent’s tent.
Damen waited until he saw Jord exit. Then he took a deep breath, and sought entrance himself.
When he walked into Laurent’s tent, Laurent said, ‘You think I should have Lazar turned off. I’ve already heard it from Jord.’
Damen said, ‘Lazar’s a decent swordsman, and he’s one of the few of your uncle’s men who buckles down to work. I think you should have Aimeric turned off.’
‘What?’ said Laurent.
‘He’s too young. He’s too attractive. He starts fights. He’s not the reason I came to speak with you, but since you asked what I think: Aimeric causes problems, and one day soon he’s going to stop making eyes at you and let one of the men fuck him, and the problems will get worse.’
Laurent absorbed that. But: ‘I can’t turn him off,’ said Laurent. ‘His father is Councillor Guion. The man you knew as the Ambassador to Akielos.’
Damen stared at him. He thought of Aimeric defending Laurent in the armoury, holding a bloody nose. He said, evenly, ‘And which one of the border castles does his father hold?’
‘Fortaine,’ said Laurent, in the same voice.
‘You’re using a boy to gain influence with his father?’
‘Aimeric’s not a child lured in with a honeyed treat. He’s Guion’s fourth son. He knows that his being here splits his father’s loyalty. It’s half the reason he joined me. He wants his father’s attention,’ said Laurent. ‘If you’re not here to talk to me about Aimeric, why are you here?’
‘You told me that if I had concerns or objections, you would hear arguments in private,’ said Damen. ‘I came here to speak with you about Govart.’
Laurent nodded slowly.
Damen cast his mind back over the days of shoddy discipline. Tonight’s fight had been the perfect opportunity for a captain to step in and begin to take control of the problems in the camp, with scrupulously equal punishments and the message that violence from either faction would not be tolerated. Instead, the situation had worsened. He was forthright.
‘I know that—for whatever reason—you are giving Govart free rein. Perhaps you hope he’ll fall to his own mistakes, or that the more difficulties he causes the easier it will be to dismiss him. But it isn’t working like that. Now the men resent him, but by morning they will resent you for not mastering him. He needs to be brought swiftly under your command, and disciplined for not following orders.’
‘But he is following orders,’ said Laurent. And then, at Damen’s reaction: ‘Not my orders.’
He had guessed that much at least, though he wondered what commands the Regent would have given to Govart. Do as you please and don’t listen to my nephew. He thought, probably something exactly like that.
‘I know you are capable of bringing Govart to heel without it being seen as an act of aggression against your uncle. I can’t believe you fear Govart. If you did, you’d never have set me against him in the ring. If you’re afraid of—’
‘That’s enough,’ said Laurent.