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young man leaning against the rails on the edge of the training area.
    “I warned you that he looked like he was out for blood.”  Nathen called over with a laugh.  “You are just too bull-headed to heed my advice.”
    Marcus grinned slightly at that as he and Daen walked over to Nathen.  These two were his closest friends amongst the Royal Guard.  They had been in the same training class when Marcus first arrived in the city.  Both Daen and Nathen had graduated and taken their place in the ranks while Marcus continued to train.  Marcus was not allowed to actually join the Guard, due to his rank and position, though he was unofficially inducted by the Guardsmen, allowing him to share in the camaraderie and close bond that developed between the soldiers.
    His friendship with these two was surprising given their different backgrounds.  Daen, close to Marcus in height and size, with a tanned face, light brown hair and green eyes, was a farmer’s son.  His family, as they had for many generations, farmed a small holding in the southwest of the country.  With four older brothers and one sister to carry on the farming tradition, Daen’s father decided that he wanted a different life for his youngest son and sent him to the capital to apprentice a trade.  Much to his father’s dismay, Daen decided to join the Royal Guard instead.  Marcus knew of no other recruit that had worked as hard and diligently as Daen, who held himself to the highest standard.  While Daen had not excelled at the combat arts, he was smart and as capable as any in the Guard.
    On the other hand, Nathen, slender and a little shorter than the other two, with a lean face and short blond hair and blue eyes, was from a minor noble family.  He was the only son of his family, with an older and a younger sister.  His father sent him to the city specifically to train with the Royal Guard to enhance their standing in the pecking order of the noble families.  Nathen was less than enthused when he first started training, used to living a life of relative ease.  Early on, he was not one to obey the rules, especially those he thought were outdated or irrelevant.  Though his instructors had considered dismissing him on several occasions, Nathen had demonstrated talent with the sword and bow.  Those skills had kept Nathen in training and he eventually stopped fighting the rules, though he would tell anyone who asked what he thought about them.  He also had a mischievous streak that manifested itself with pranks and jokes, often at the expense of Marcus and Daen.
    The three had bonded when the instructors had assigned them to train together, holding each accountable for the actions of the others.  Some tension had developed between them at first, but that soon passed as they found themselves growing closer together as they faced a common adversary - their instructors.  The training had been physically and mentally challenging and the three were able to lean on each other to make it through.  Marcus was grateful that their friendship had continued after the training had finished; these two were as close as brothers to him now.
    His real brother, of course, was the reason he had gone to Daen and Nathen in the early morning, asking them to come spar with him.  Rolas had continued to needle Marcus, mocking and challenging him, as he tried to tell his parents what had occurred during the rescue mission.  They had gone up to the rooms in the palace that the king had set aside for Marcus’ family, sitting down in the comfortable chairs of the library.  His father had tried to keep the peace, admonishing Rolas and encouraging Marcus, while his mother sat there watching quietly.  Finally, Marcus’ patience with his brother had reached its end and only their father’s order had prevented it from coming to blows.  Marcus had gone to his room, but sleep would not come, so he slipped out quietly and went to find his friends to work off his anger.
    “What