The Summer Palace and Other Stories (Captive Prince Short Stories #1-4) by C.S. Pacat EPUB & PDF

The Summer Palace and Other Stories (Captive Prince Short Stories #1-4) by C.S. Pacat EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

  • Status: Available for Free Download
  • Author Name: C.S. Pacat
  • Book Genre: Adult, Fantasy, Fiction, LGBT, M M Romance, Queer, Short Stories
  • Series Detail: Book 1-4 in the Captive Prince Short Stories series
  • ISBN #
  • ASIN # B07JKF65PX
  • Edition Language: English
  • Date of Publication: January 6, 2018
  • PDF File Size: 2.6 MB
  • EPUB File Size: 2.4 MB

GREEN BUT FOR A SEASON
It meant something to Jord when he became Captain, a small piece of
polish that Jord kept to himself. Jord was a good fighter, he was loyal to
his Prince, but that didn’t add up to a captaincy. Captains were the sons
of aristocrats—even if the Prince’s Guard was a little different, drawn from
the dregs.

He almost fumbled the badge when it was tossed to him. ‘I like my orders
obeyed quickly, and you’ve just seen what will happen if you don’t come
when I call you.’ The Prince glanced at Govart, bleeding in the dirt.
Indeed: watching the Prince skewer Govart had instilled a dumbfounded
obedience in the new troops, and put a shocked look on the face of the
Akielon slave. Everyone stood around uselessly while Govart was ejected
from the camp.

Then they had to make up a day’s ride in half the time. Jord shouted at the
men to decamp, shouted at them again to mount up, dragged Lorens onto a
horse himself, and ordered Orlant to toss a pail of water on Andry, who had
slept through everything. The troop finally started to move, and he had to
call on the Prince’s Guard, over and over again, to stop stragglers and keep
the rest of the mercenaries in formation.

‘Take four men and get the tail of this squadron back on the road,’ said
Jord.

Orlant grinned. ‘Their tail? Want me to—’
‘No,’ said Jord, who had known Orlant a long time.
By the time they reached camp, the Regent’s men had recovered enough
from their shock to grow mulish about orders. Most of them knew very
little about soldiering. All Govart had required of them was that they stay
out of his way. Jord had his hands full: the mounts weren’t penned properly,
there were hoarse shouts from under a collapsed tent, and there was a
constant stream of expletives against the Prince—that cold, blond son of a
bitch, that high and mighty prick made of ice.

When night fell and torches flamed along lines of straight(ish) tents, Jord
found himself alone on the edges of the camp near the trees.
Out here he could hear the rustling of the leaves, louder than the sounds of
the camp, where fires and sentry torches were bright spots against the
darker shadowy shapes of the canvas tents. The quiet ranks were deceptive,
since the Regent’s mercenaries would spend the next few weeks looking for
any excuse to cause trouble.

Jord took out the flecked, dinted Captain’s badge and looked down at it.
The Regent had sent them to the border to fail. The task of captaining
these mercenaries was not one any man would volunteer for. Even for an
experienced captain, holding discipline together among this rabble, against
attacks from eight different sides, was impossible.

The Prince had known the scale of the task when he had tossed Jord this
badge. Jord thought about that.
And, passing his thumb over the dinted starburst in the solitary clearing,
he smiled.

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