Depths of Peril Site Update
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Prince Alek Carmelo threw dry beans at a tin cup in the command tent. On the edge of Wayward Desert and the dry scrub and wood of the Barrenlands, the winter encampment was more boring than he ever envisioned. The conscripts drilled in the morning and afternoon. Patrols watched for the enemy, naga and scorpid, but none had been spotted in weeks. There was nothing to do but practice swordsmanship, and he was tired of the routines. If Drel and Lulan hadn't left for the southern camp investigating the missing messengers, he could have learned new foreign techniques. Not for the first time, he wished he'd brought paints and canvases.
He threw another bean. Missed. At least Dez could explore the camp without creating a stir. Anytime Alek went out, the soldiers stopped what they were doing and saluted. He shouldn't be embarrassed, but his upbringing in the castle never prepared him for life in the field. Fighting and tactical maneuvers, yes, but being around soldiers during every part of the day was something new. They weren't like the castle guards.
