Chapter 219 - 217: Princess At The Training Ground.

Chapter 219: Chapter 217: Princess At The Training Ground.

She finds him almost immediately.

​There are only two people still running so they’re not hard to make out; two blurry shapes tracking along the wall on the far side of the training ground.

In the sea of grey and standard issue browns and blacks, Khobi’s red hair makes him stick out like a sore thumb.

​"Careful Rogard," Mural warns sagely, "Turning up at this hour; you’ll be running laps too if you don’t watch out."

​"Don’t you worry about me," Rogard retorts lightly, "I take my training very seriously."

​This must be a running joke of some kind because despite the company he’s in, Montrel lets out a bark of laughter.

Rogard looks politely offended by the reaction, but when he whirls towards the other soldier for backup, Mural just cocks an eyebrow at him.

​One of her handmaidens coughs, in a feeble effort to remind them just who they’re in the presence of.

​Xena doesn’t mind though. Most of her daily interactions are so stuffy and stiff that it’s kind of refreshing to have people behave so casually around her, and while they bicker it gives her the chance to gaze out at the training grounds.

​It’s certainly quite something to behold from a distance but up close it feels like a spectacle of its own.

From the high balconies looking out, it is so easy to just dismiss it all as brutal and violent and ugly, but upon closer inspection it’s clear that nothing that they do out here can be done without skill, and that each of them is quite terrifyingly strong in their own right.

​She knows, because she used to watch Loac and his friends all the time when they were children; had even played with them on occasion, when her governesses weren’t watching.

But it wasn’t very proper for a lady to show interest in such things, let alone a princess, so eventually she had had to push away such thoughts and focused on the things more appropriate for someone of her station.

​Her gaze tracks across the sparring soldiers, across the sea of drills, and lingers on the archers, all lined up in neat rows.

​They look like they’re having fun.

​She realises too late, that she’s said it out loud.

​"Hmm?" Montrel seems to have caught her words, and follows her gaze out towards the archery range.

"Well yeah, but you can’t see anything from over here. Come with me, I’ll get you a closer look."

He immediately seems to realise that he’s just ordered around his princess and abruptly tries to backtrack, stammering, "I mean... shit , only if you want to."

​(" Montrel , Bongo’ll kill you if he hears you’ve been cussing in front of the princess again," Mural drawls, and pops his shoulder back into place.)

​("Your Highness, His Majesty will be waiting –" one of her handmaidens reminds her.)

Xena knows she should mind the cursing, but she’s honestly getting a little used to it. And her father can wait. She wants a closer look.

​"I would like that a lot," she tells him, smiling, and he hurriedly finishes wiping the blood off his nose.

Her handmaidens do not seem to want her to go with him, and definitely seem like they want to go themselves even less so she tells them to stay behind.

She’ll be surrounded by soldiers, after all. She couldn’t be safer.

They appear suitably conflicted, but the fact that Rogard Spidra will be hanging back with them seems to remedy that.

​"Mind your step, Your Highness," Montrel advises, and gestures for her to follow.

It takes her all of two seconds to come to the conclusion that keeping her dress clean is going to be impossible.

She can either balance on Montrel’s arm, which itself is filthy, or hitch up her skirts and hope for the best.

​She opts for the latter. Her hem drags along the ground –much to the dismay of her handmaidens –but at least she won’t trip.

​It’s a precarious journey across the training grounds, and every step is exhilarating .

Out here she’s not just close to the action, she’s in it; sounds both familiar and not –yelling, cursing, steel on wood and wood on steel –are swirling past her, all around and deafening.

There is so much to see; shield walls cracking, soldiers flinging each other around, lines of men walking through intricate sequences in immaculate timing.

​From here she can see the ferocity in their eyes; so close that some of the mud they kick up catches on her dress.

​She’s so close she can see them bleeding .

It’s a huge expanse but with so many giants swirling around her it feels oddly claustrophobic, but Montrel leads them through the maze with ease and she carries herself as she always does, head held high.

​From somewhere nearby a soldier suddenly loses his grip on his shield, and it comes flying through the air straight for her.

Thankfully, Montrel intercepts it moments before it connects, snatching it out of the air and hurling it back at its careless owner at twice the velocity.

​" Hey , watch it!" Montrel snarls at him, and the soldier gives him an apologetic wave as it hits him squarely in the gut.

​Eventually, they reach the archery range, and as they approach he holds out an arm in warning while the archers finish loosing their rounds.

And even once their bows are empty, they’re already readying themselves for the next.

​And Xena watches, enthralled; admiring how delicately they string their arrows and the regal way they draw, and then the symphony of hums as their arrows take flight into the sky.

​The archers look magnificent, and their rain of arrows falling to earth is quite beautiful.

​It’s only after the arrows make their mark, and the archers are trading places, that she realises that Montrel is no longer at her side.

Confused, she glances around; a lost, delicate beacon in pink and cerulean blue in a drab sea of faded leather.

But he hasn’t gone far, and a moment later he returns with a bow –significantly smaller than the ones the archers are using, a bracer, and a shooting glove.

They look quite old, and not particularly clean, but he extends them out to her then waits expectantly.