After a moment or so, Hymneth looked up. “I’m afraid there’s not much use in my household guard for a man who is spineless. It’s one thing to fear me, something else to completely lose control in my presence.” Extending a long arm, he indicated the lance lying in the short grass. “If you drop your weapon during an inspection, what would you do with it during a battle? Fling it aside and run?”
“No, Lord,” the man stammered desperately. “I-I was nervous today, that’s all. This is only my third full-dress inspection, and the first you have graced with your august presence.” Risking all, he looked down and met the gaze of the Possessed. “Please, Lord. I have a wife, and a babe of six months. Give me another chance and I’ll serve you well! My life is yours. It was—”
“Yes, yes, it was promised to me when you agreed to become a member of the guard. I know.” Hymneth made a sweeping gesture that took in the rest of the mounted troop. Not a head had turned in the direction of the confrontation. The man and woman mounted on either side of the unfortunate one sat rock-steady and unmoving in their saddles, eyes front, backs stiff.
“But how can I rely on someone who shakes so badly he can’t even keep control of his primary weapon during an inspection? I could give you another chance, but what if one wasn’t enough? What if you needed a third chance, or a fourth?”
“Please, Lord, I beg you to—”
“And what sort of example does that set for your fellows? I don’t see any of them asking for second chances when they make mistakes. Could it be that’s because they don’t make mistakes? Because I can’t afford to tolerate mistakes in my household guard.” Turning away, he looked back toward the sea that lay downslope and far away.