For most of Alfred's life, the training grounds of Verglas Castle were like a second home. Upon his father's death, though, the meadow - lush in the summer, and muddy and wet the rest of the time - held for him far more solace than anything within the castle walls could.
On those fields, not even Ingo questioned his obvious supremacy. They belonged to Alfred, and he ruled them thusly. His subjects were the very men he stood and fought beside. Men that defended him the way he defended them. And even if opinions or beliefs differed to the point that sharing a civil meal would've been a painstaking affair, battle brought men together like no other. It was the great equalizer of humanity. And any soldier worth their salt would agree that you needn't like someone to respect them.