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74

Jasmine commandeered a bench at the side of the training area where Keilor was instructing a group of soldiers in the art of the sword. She’d never watched him at work, and it was a novel experience to see him through the eyes of his students.

They worshiped him. He asked the impossible, and they delivered because he asked. He was curt, but never cruel. He didn’t accept excuses, merely worked patiently with a student until that student understood what he wanted of him, demonstrating where necessary. The beauty of it was, his demonstrations were always matter-of-fact and instructional, never an outlet to showcase his own skill.

And he was skilled. Every fluid movement and graceful gesture spoke of strength and stamina, both in battle, and...

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