Spring 68: Corporal Delega

Dearest Zann,

Delega caught me after the meeting with the castellan. She hadn’t said a word to me the whole time, and I thought I noticed her looking at me angrily once or twice.

“How do you dare call yourself a curst corporal?” she said, grabbing my arm hard and shoving me at the corridor wall. “You shouldn’t be a guard at all!”

“The captain wants me to be a corporal,” I told her, as calmly as I could. “I’m going to do my best.”

“Your best is a bubble of piss! You can’t even fight! I heard what happened.”

I pulled my arm free. “Look, why do you care? You got promoted too.”

“Ay,” she said, “I worked for a long time to become corporal. I made myself good with my sword. And I finally made it. And you get the same thing after a few swings of… what, exactly?”

“Can I give you a piece of advice?”

“No. You can quit. You don’t belong in the Rosolla Guard. You’re weak and you’re going to endanger the rest of us and you’re going to endanger the palace. And you’re going to get hurt or killed yourself, don’t you even care about that?”

“I’m going to tell you anyway. The reason you haven’t been promoted before this is that you think the only important part of being a guard is swordsmanship. It’s not. Weren’t you listening in there with Senrralar? This whole palace is politics. And if you don’t start to learn about that, then you’re the one who’s going to endanger people.”

She stepped back from me. “You can tell yourself that,” she said. “Or, even better, you can tell Trall and Carsaduam, next time you meet them. See how well it works.” And swaggered off.

I hadn’t forgotten about Trall and Carsaduam. Also, Ambe’s scarf won’t work anymore; the charm must have worn off by now. I’d have to think.

Love,

Ybel