"The purpose of a commander," Cullen says quietly, leaning forward and balancing his elbows on his knees, "is certainly to make the difficult choices. And to oversee the training and well-being of their people. But a commander also exists, or should, at a remove from the rank and file. A one-sided remove. You should know what they're doing. Part of why I'm here is to help you figure out how to set up those communication lines. But they should see you as a figurehead. They want to make you into a symbol? Let them. They'll do it anyway. You can turn that to your advantage.

"Because it's true. You're not a warrior." He clasps his hands between his knees. "And there's nothing wrong with that. You don't have to become one to be a good commander. But that means that it's even more vital to the success of your operation here that you have seconds who are beyond reproach in their own training, and in maintaining discipline. And that's what's wrong with Nathaniel."

Cullen's voice, eyes, have hardened considerably. "He cannot lead if he only works with half your men. I don't care if he was only running drills with the archers. It doesn't matter. You don't have to be engaged directly to maintain discipline in the yard or on the field. He'd be your captain; captains have lieutenants for just this sort of thing. The new men will learn. But Nathaniel should already know better. And that he doesn't seem to, or that he left it to you to be the disciplinarian -- that's a problem.

"...not that you didn't do an excellent job at it." A quick flash of a grin. "You couldn't have done that any better."