“. .’ ‘A natural throwing arm . . .’ ‘Would make a worthy opponent in the arena . . .’. It had been great to have people pat him on the back for doing well – something he had seldom seen in military training – but the question was, could he remember enough in a dynamic situation to be effective? Femke had been very positive too, and the thought brought a flush to his cheeks. Of all his teachers, he had wanted to impress her more than any other. Today was his chance. ‘Come on, Reynik. Don’t g...et distracted. Focus. Remember what Devarusso taught you. You are aristocracy. You have a right to be here. You have enough money to buy the ground you tread on.’ Reynik’s mind was full to bursting with all the information and advice he had tried to assimilate over the previous three weeks. He was determined not to fail. Dressed in the finery of a Nobleman, with a wig that hid his tightly-cropped, light brown hair under a mass of styled black curls, he was sure that even his fellow soldiers would not recognise him.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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