Tolomon was at Indenuel’s side as he and Nathaniel led him toward the table. “Nathaniel still went easy on me, didn’t he?” Indenuel asked Tolomon, trying to lighten the mood.

He gave a laugh. “I’ll never tell. Though they should be making Nathaniel a General soon.”

“Ah, I’m not interested in being a General.” Nathaniel began to heal Indenuel’s broken nose. The bone fused itself back and his nose stopped bleeding. He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to Indenuel as a servant gave them two plates of lunch. Tolomon took his plate, testing a tiny bite before nodding. Nathaniel thanked the servant before Indenuel situated himself better at the table. Tolomon disappeared again past the carriages to do a perimeter check.

Nathaniel placed his fingers against Indenuel’s temples. Being healed always made him feel woozy while it was being done. The cuts and bruises were healed before Nathaniel let go and gave him a smile.

“Good as new,” he said before picking up a fork and diving into his lunch. Indenuel cleaned the leftover blood from his face. It was embarrassing to be beaten so easily by Nathaniel, and he had to admit his pride had taken a blow more than his face had. Nathaniel took the handkerchief back and handed it to one of the servants.

He sniffed before reaching for his spoon and starting to eat.

“You did really good today,” Nathaniel said.

“You do realize you had me completely pinned in less time than it takes to get the carriages packed in the morning,” Indenuel said.

Nathaniel shook his head. “Not a good example. It takes forever to get the carriages packed in the morning.” Indenuel couldn’t help it and found himself smiling as he took a bite of his roasted potatoes. “Celebrate the small victories.”

“Like not hurting you or anyone else with corruptive powers?” Indenuel asked.

“That, actually, is a huge victory.”

They were quiet as they ate their lunch. “If I may, why did you decide to join the military?”

Nathaniel moved his potatoes around with his spoon. “Because I’m no scholar.”

Indenuel raised an eyebrow. “Is that the only options for the nobleman? Scholar or military?"

"No.” He turned his gaze toward Martin, who was checking the contents of a letter with Derio on the other side of their little camp. “Unless Martin the Healer is your father. Then there’s a certain level of expectation on you when you try anything that deals with politics or religious studies.”

Indenuel glanced up, surprised. “You feel pressured into military service?”

“Let’s just say it’s the only thing I knew I could succeed in.”

“Well, you are really good at it,” Indenuel said, rubbing his freshly healed nose.

Nathaniel laughed. “Well, thank you.”

He took another bite. “And… and do you believe we’re going to war for the right reasons?”

Nathaniel paused mid-bite, then glanced up at Indenuel. It wasn’t a hostile look, more one of curiosity, but he still looked away, focusing instead on his plate. Nathaniel set his fork down. “You’ve talked to my father about your concerns?”

“I have. But I figure it’s good to get the perspective from people who are actually fighting in the war.”

“Smart,” Nathaniel said. “There’s a lot of reasons out there, but personally I fight for my family.”

The silence settled again between the two of them. Nathaniel took a few more bites before his gaze fell on his family. Eduardo was reading his book while Riel took the four younger boys to a tree, having them look and study it, writing down notes and sketches from Riel’s tutoring. Rosa was by Eduardo’s side, listening to him read out loud as they discussed what was in the book.

“Even though…” Indenuel felt nervous even though he shouldn’t. Traveling with this group long enough, he knew Nathaniel wasn’t going to yell at him for something like this. “Even though Kiam is probably doing the exact same thing?”

“I would hope they too are doing something just as honorable, yes. It would make it easier to reach common ground and find a solution to all this.”

“And the fact that Kiam just wants to be left alone?” Indenuel asked.

“They did have the opportunity to leave us alone,” Nathaniel said. “And then they struck us. I’m all for love and compassion, but if my family and way of life is threatened, I will not go down without a fight.” Nathaniel finished his lunch. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I may be the first to push back, but I’d also be the first to agree to a peace treaty.”

“And slavery? Do you think Kiam is practicing it?” Indenuel asked.

“It doesn’t matter if they are or aren’t. Well, no, it does. Slavery is disgusting and devilish, and I cannot tolerate it,” Nathaniel said. “Adrian, my youngest there, Adosina, my own mother, all of them would have been slaves if they were born in Zimoro or Oramin. Treated as a lesser human because they commune with trees. I can’t imagine a God who preaches love and kindness to agree to such an evil practice.” Nathaniel took a drink. “But even if Kiam isn’t practicing slavery, it is concerning they spent years preparing and watching us fight before they struck, and if they conquer us, they’ve conquered the world.”

“And us conquering them gives us power over the world, too,” Indenuel said.

“True. It does. It’s not a comfortable thought, but yes, I’d rather we be in charge than Kiam,” Nathaniel said.

“And if Kiam isn’t practicing slavery?” Indenuel asked.

“Then we do our best to make sure they understand we are all living on this world together, and we need to find a way to live peaceably,” Nathaniel said.

“After we completely conquer them?” Indenuel asked.

Nathaniel smiled. “Once they understand we will not be beaten by them, since, again, they struck us first.”

“And us conquering the rest of the countries?” Indenuel asked. “Taking out their main form of economy in order to make them dependent on us?”

“Freeing slaves,” Nathaniel corrected.

Indenuel nodded. “Yes. Freeing slaves.”

“Have you ever seen slaves?” Indenuel shook his head. “The slave masters honestly do not believe tree talkers are human. They beat them, whip them, tear them away from their families to sell them. Force them to use their gift for their own personal gain, giving them a crust of bread and a drink in a stream for what they earn in gold in the fields.” Nathaniel shook his head. “I was twenty-five when I saw my first slave farm. I’d long since gotten over my nerves of combat by that point, but when I saw the backs of Zimoran tree talkers for the first time, it made me vomit.” Nathaniel drained the last of his water. “I’m not ashamed for forcing Oramin and Zimoro to stop their slavery. And I am willing to be there as much as possible to help those two countries get on their feet economically to make sure something like that never happens again. They’ll get on their feet soon, and I truly hope they surpass us economically so slavery will never be an option again.”

Indenuel gave a small nod. Nathaniel smiled before placing a hand on his shoulder. “War is complicated. I wish there was a clear line between good and evil, but unfortunately there isn’t. Freeing slaves is right. Using it to gain world power is not. Leaving Kiam alone is right. Not fighting back when they try to take us over is wrong. War is where heroes are forged. War is where murderers quench their thirst for blood.” Nathaniel shrugged. “It’s down to you, individually. You find your reason for fighting and hang onto it. Make it a good one, because you will never be the same once you’ve fought your first battle.”

Nathaniel gave him another pat on the shoulder before getting up from the table. He smiled at a servant and handed him his plate before he walked over to his family. Adrian broke away from Riel and ran to give Nathaniel a hug. He laughed and grabbed his youngest son, spinning him in a hug and giving him a kiss before ushering him back to Riel to finish his lessons. He then sat down and placed his arm around Eduardo and Rosa as he listened to his eldest reading philosophy.

Indenuel had never truly wanted a father until that moment. He and Lucia managed to survive well enough without a man, and if Indenuel ever wanted one before, it was because he wanted Lucia to admit who his father was so the abuse would end. He wanted someone to claim him. He rarely looked at fatherhood in a positive light. After all, Matteo’s father was so horrible it would have been better if he’d died sooner. But he now saw a glimpse of what a father did, and a small part of him began to wonder, almost yearned to know what it would have been like to have one. To have a good one.

“How’s lunch?” Martin asked, sitting down next to him. Indenuel, who had thought he was getting over his anxiety, almost leapt off the chair when Martin appeared next to him. “Oh, forgive me, my boy. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m…” Indenuel stopped himself from apologizing and finished the last of his lunch.

“Excellent job today, my boy.”

Indenuel shook his head as he mumbled his thanks.

“You would not have lasted nearly as long a few weeks ago,” Martin said.

He was again reminded of the time when he had used his corruptive powers. The only time he had beaten Nathaniel, and he still had lingering feelings of guilt.

A silence descended among Martin and Indenuel. He remembered his discussion in the carriage. The political side of war was hard to grapple with but talking with Nathaniel made it easier to comprehend. He had a feeling Martin was holding something back, but whatever it was, maybe he could trust him enough that there was a reason for it.

“Are you excited to see the rest of your family?” Indenuel asked.

Martin gave a smile that relaxed his entire face. He almost looked like a different person. “I am. It’s been a year and almost three months since I’ve seen them. Far longer than they were expecting me to be gone.”

Another silence descended among them. “Have you gotten news about the war?” Indenuel asked. “Is there anything I should know?”

“Word has spread of your existence. No Kiamese army has made it to the main road, though they’ve certainly tried. Our troops are tired, but their hopes are renewed in you.”

He nodded as he finished his lunch. A servant took the plate away. “Then I’m glad they didn’t see my fight with Nathaniel.”

“Ah, you are too hard on yourself, my boy.”

“Tell me honestly, Martin. If I wasn’t in the picture, how much longer could this war last?” Indenuel asked.

Martin gave a sigh as he thought. “One, maybe two years.”

“And how much training would I have to do to be on Nathaniel’s level of skill with the sword?”

“He has had over twenty years. You must not compare yourself to him. Or to Tolomon. The prophets saw you because you have something unique.”

“The four gifts,” Indenuel said.

“Precisely.”

“And how exactly will the four gifts help? They’re not exactly combat gifts.”

“No, but as the war stretches on, Kiam is using increasingly corruptive means to win this war, and by blocking what they’re doing, you would give the soldiers an equal stand with them.”

Indenuel nodded, again glancing over at Nathaniel who was talking with Eduardo about philosophy. Eduardo was asking some difficult questions, judging by the confusion on Nathaniel’s face.

“We’re about to pack up. Are you ready?” Martin asked.

He nodded. Martin smiled before getting up to leave. Tolomon appeared next to Indenuel. He flinched, the recent memory of Nathaniel beating him still fresh on his mind.

“Seriously, how is someone like you able to sneak around?” Indenuel asked.

“Practice.”

Indenuel smiled and shook his head as he headed to his carriage, with Tolomon following close behind.