The Eighth Prince (Rewriting) (Barely Updates)

10; Training Suggestion

"I will take small groups of men – no more than 25 or 30 at a time – to scout the terrain, hunting and gathering anything useful at the same time. We will enter the swamp for only a few hours at a time so that the men can slowly build a tolerance to the miasma,” Chia-Hao explained.

The Sargeant pinched his chin as he considered. The issue of food was a concern. Not only was supply from the main camp unlikely – as the general had no desire to let the enemy know he was hiding a prince – but now that Chia-Hao had brought in more men there were more mouths to feed. Sargeant Chu had been worrying about how long their supplies would last. Hunting and gathering in the swamp could help but…

“Even if I let the men train there – how could they hunt and gather. Who knows what is toxic and what isn’t?” Sargeant Chu argued.

“I studied with a talented herbalist before leaving the capital,” Chia-Hao lied easily. “I can recognize a great many plant – both edible and medicinal.”

“What about the venomous creatures?” Sargeant Chu asked.

"I know some of plants that neutralize toxins," Chia-Hao assured him. “There are bound to be one or two growing in that swamp.”

Sargeant Chu considered for a while longer before nodding.

“Very well, you can try. I want you to take the strongest men for your first foray, though.”

“That wouldn’t be wise,” Chia-Hao immediately argued. “I will want 5 of your best but the rest should be those who need tempering. That way the camp is still well protected.”

Sargeant Chu nodded reluctantly. He wasn’t comfortable sending weaker men into the swamp but Chia-Hao’s considerations were quite valid. The camp needed a strong defensive ability in the event scouts from the enemy discovered them.

With the matter of training in the swamp determined, Guang Chia-Hao left to join the soldiers at dinner.

After collecting his bowl of stew and a steamed bun, Chia-Hao sat in a quiet corner of the mess tent by himself. He hated socializing and trying to seem “normal” while eating would kill his appetite before his stomach was full. After so many years of ostracism, Guang Chia-Hao was reluctant to be close to anyone except the man he had loved in his first life.

As the thought of his lover washed over his mind, he couldn't help but feel a deep loss. Even though he was sure his lover was still alive, the man wasn’t here. Amusement touched him as he considered the man he loved. The two of them were very different. His lover was sociable and charming. He had cheerful attitude and was very free spirited. When they had first met, his lover had insisted on being friends with him no matter how he had ignored the ger’s every overture. Even after he had accepted the ger, duties had often kept them apart but no matter how distant he was, his lover had remained kind and loving to the very last moment.

It made him sad to remember that his lover had taken his final words to heart and married a man solely for his strength.  Chia-Hao knew that his love had not been happy with the man he married. His resolve to make this life different strengthened. This time he would make his lover happy for their entire lifetime.

Sitting in his quiet corner, Chia-Hao stirred the stew while thoughts of his first life stormed his mind. The stew was clearly vegetarian – some green leaves of some sort, potatoes, definitely carrots – but not even a hint of meat. He sighed a little as he scooped some into his mouth. Meat would be on the menu again after he started taking the men up to the swamp, he comforted himself.  An instant later he jumped up from his seat, racing for the entrance to the mess tent with his hand over his mouth.

Behind him, the stew spilled on the ground of the mess tent but Chia-Hao made it to the entrance before vomiting everything he had eaten for the past week. The soldiers in the tent scowled as the ugly sound of his retching made their own meal seem unappetizing. The gains he had made in earning their respect were seriously reduced in moments.

When he finally regained control over his stomach he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and re-entered the tent.

“My apologies,” he told the men as he began cleaning the stew he had spilled. “There are mushrooms in this stew and I am unfortunately allergic to them.”

The soldiers muttered to each other as they wondered how anyone could be allergic to mushrooms.

In truth, Chia-Hao wasn’t allergic. He simply couldn’t abide the texture of mushrooms whether they were cooked or not. He found the smell and taste revolting as well but it was the texture that caused him to vomit every time. 

Back at the capital, a storm was brewing in a certain house.

"That's enough!" The woman yelling stood in a doorway with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. "He is a young and impressionable ger who will regret this wild notion. He already has calluses on his palms – do you not want your child to be married?!" 

Her husband sighed as he massaged his temple, "Yichen is young and beautiful. It will be easy for him to marry even if he has calluses. He is young and he wants to explore the world," the man coaxed his wife. “Do you want him to be in danger out there?”

"I don’t want him to go at all! He's 17! He should be preparing for marriage instead of learning the sword!" The woman started to go after the young man at the gate of their courtyard but her husband held her firmly.

“Let him spread his wings,” he advised his anxious wife. “He will return when it gets too hard.”

Ming Yichen looked back at his parents with a glint of tears in his eyes. He nodded gratefully to his father and strode out without another word – ignoring his mother’s cry of anguish.

"I must find him," he vowed to himself.

The dreams had been tormenting his sleep and drawing him to the battlefield to find that precious person from his dream. Even now, he couldn’t be sure that the dreams were real or fantasy but the only way to know for sure was to seek out the man from his dreams. Ming Yichen hopped into the back of the cart that waited in front of the courtyard and nodded to the man holding the reins. The man nodded back and turned to face the front. With a whistle and a slap of the reins, the cart began to move – leaving the house and his parents behind to wait for his return.