Kelan rubbed his shoulder where one of the warriors got in a lucky punch. He probably shouldn’t have tackled six at one time, but he was feeling like a challenge. He was getting too old for this, he thought dismally as he stared into his near-empty cup. Kelan pulled another bottle toward him. He was on his fifth bottle of prized Curizan wine. He’d left the training room earlier under Jarak’s disapproving eye, making his way up to the dining area.
Before he left, Jarak informed him in no uncertain terms that he was tired of Kelan, Trelon, and those infuriating females. They were sending all of his men to medical, and he was running short of personnel. By the time Kelan made it up to the dining area, word had already spread about his head-bashing down in the training room. After most of the
