by Kal Spriggs
Aerion's one eye widened in surprise. “I'd be honored, sir.”
“Good. I'm putting you in charge of our second squad in our first section. Your section leader is Sergeant Maksim, I've already spoken with him and he wants you to come by his tent tonight and he'll tell you your duties.”
Aerion nodded quickly, “Yes, sir.”
“If you have any other questions, Senior Sergeant Jasen and I will help you out,” Captain Bartek said. He clapped Aerion on the shoulder once more, “And I'm glad to have you in Third Company, Swordbreaker, I've heard a lot about you.”
“Thank you, sir,” Aerion said. Before he could say more, the officer turned away and he and Bulmor continued on towards Lady Katarina's tent.
Quinn gave a low whistle behind him. “Squad leader, eh? That's a pretty impressive vote of confidence, right Walker?”
Aerion turned and he saw Quinn's face lit up with excitement. Walker, on the other hand, sported a scowl, “Yeah, that's pretty quick, though.” The shorter man shrugged a bit, “And it's only Third Company, not like it is First.” There was a poisonous tone to his voice, one part derision, one part sullenness, and all of it out of character for his friend.
Aerion looked at his friend in puzzlement, “I'm... what does that mean?” Walker's sudden shift in mood confused him almost as much as his words.
Quinn gave Walker an odd look, almost pitying, before he looked back at Aerion. “Well, he's something of a point. First Company is almost entirely made up of veterans from Tucola Forest or Southwatch. They're sort of our best fighters.” He shrugged, “Second Company is the locals, that is, your people from Watkowa Village and the surrounding area. I would have expected you to be assigned to one of those companies or with Nakkiki and I in Lady Katarina's escort.”
Walker sneered a bit, “Third Company is everyone left over. Most of them have a few weeks or months of training.” There was something else besides arrogance in his eyes, though. “I'm with First Company.”
“But you're not a squad leader,” Quinn said with a snort, “Neither am I, for that matter.”
The scowl on Walker's face surprised Aerion. He's jealous, Aerion realized, that I'm being promoted and that he isn't. “Well,” Aerion said quickly, “I'm certainly going to need both your help, with this. Would either of you mind if I try to get you transferred over to help me out?”
Walker's face went blank for a moment, almost as if the request surprised him. Quinn hesitated, “I'll help you out, but being with Lady Katarina's escort means I get to be near Cederic, and I'm learning so much...”
“Of course I would help you,” Walker said quickly. He smiled then and once more it was the natural smile that Aerion remembered, “Hell, I wouldn't let you go to Third on your own, not knowing anyone...”
Quinn frowned at that, “Jasen's the Senior Sergeant there. I'm certain he'll be plenty of help.”
“I won't turn down more of it,” Aerion said quickly. “And you have a point, Quinn. And if you're set on learning wizardry, I suppose I'd be happier about it if you were studying straight from the source.” He saw Quinn's frown fade and the stocky young man nodded. “Besides, someone's got to watch over Nakkiki, right?”
The big foreigner seemed to perk up at that and he rumbled off another of his long rolling sentences. Aerion cocked an eyebrow at Quinn, “Well?”
Quinn flushed a bit, “He, uh, says I'm a good friend, keeping him out of trouble. I guess he's picking up some of our language, after all.”
“Good,” Aerion said with a smile at the big man. “And I'm honored to be your friend as well.”
Nakkiki returned the smile and slapped Aerion on the shoulder, he let loose another stream of his odd language and then looked at Quinn.
Quinn coughed at that, “He says it would be more fun if you and he were together. He thinks you both would find much trouble and excitement then.”
Aerion laughed at that and then thought back to when he had first met the big man on a bridge surrounded by Norics. Then he thought about the fight that had broken out and how he had first faced a Noric demon. You know, he realized, Nakkiki might be right at that.
***
Aerion Swordbreaker
Sergeant Maksim was a tall, thin man, with a shock of white hair and a face seamed with lines. He shook Aerion's hand in a grip that could have passed for iron, though, and his brown eyes were friendly. “Swordbreaker, good to meet you.”
“Sergeant,” Aerion nodded, hesitantly.
The older man waved a hand, “Save that for when we're out in front of the troops. Call me Maksim or just Ben here in the privacy of my tent. I was a farmer for too many years to want the title.”
The other section leader, Sergeant Ludwik snorted at that, “Or old man.” The two shared a tent and it seemed that they knew one another well. The shorter man had a long gray beard and his hair was back in a long, gray braid. He was stocky, with the thick arms and soot stains that marked him as a blacksmith.
“Hah, like you've any room to talk, Lud,” Maksim growled. “You're two cycles older than me.” Aerion's section leader didn't await a response, “In any case, for my evils, I'm your section leader. We've fifty men, fifty one, now, with you, in our section. First squad is yours, twenty men and five women, trained as well as we could.”
“We've been training them for formation fighting, right, sergeant?” Aerion asked.
Maksim pointed a sharp finger at him at the use of his rank, but he gave him a nod. “That's right. From how I hear it, you haven't fought that way, not yet, though you've some training.” He smiled a bit, “Which is fine, because this lot haven't fought at all. Most of them are solid enough now, but they're from all over the damned Duchy and they don't have that trust for one another, not yet.”
Aerion nodded slowly. “Would it be alright if one of my friends, Walker, came over? He's some good fighting experience and he's educated, might be useful.” He paused, “I suppose I should have asked his section leader as well, huh?”
Maksim nodded, “That's right enough. Still, I know the senior sergeant in First. He'll probably be fine with that... though I warn you now, I don't want to hear anything about favoritism, you hear me, boy?”
Aerion nodded sharply, “Of course not. It's just that I... well, I've never been in charge of anyone and Walker's from a well-born family, he might be able to tell me of things I hadn't thought about.” The explanation seemed off, even to him. If anything, Walker seemed to know more about causing trouble than he did about fixing any.
He saw the other man's eyes narrow a bit at that. “Well born, but not a sergeant or officer? Huh.” He shot a glance at Ludwik who gave a shrug. “Well, don't underestimate yourself or for that matter, overestimate your friend's knowledge. There's more to leadership than birth, trust me. I've seen plenty of damned-fool nobles and I've also known good officers who came up through the ranks.”
“Seen it both ways,” Ludwik said. “Best officer I ever served under was a noble-born. Worst one was a fellow that started out as a sergeant.”
Aerion's section leader gave a shrug, “True enough. Still, as I said, don't be surprised to see a variety of leadership styles and decide on your own what works for you. Best advice I can give you there is if your men know you care about their survival, they're more likely to trust you.”
“That doesn't mean you need them to like you,” Ludwik said. “They can hate your guts from how hard you drill them, but if they know you're doing it to keep them alive, they'll still follow your orders in the cauldron.” There was a tone of confidence in his voice, as if he were repeating something he had been told and shown to be true.
Aerion nodded slowly, though if anything, he thought he might follow Bulmor or Aramer's methods of leadership more than that. Doesn't hurt to listen, he thought.
“In any case,” Maksim said, “You'll share a tent with Corporal Gerhing, my second squad leader. You're senior to him, as a sergeant, but he's been in the section longer. He knows the soldiers, so fo
llow his lead on them, but don't let him undercut your experience.” The words seemed more of general advice than a warning.
“Thank the ancestors they came through with the canvas for tents before we marched,” Maksim said. “I wouldn't have thought they could pull it off, but Arren Smith must know everyone. That merchant showed up just like he said he would.” Aerion kept his mouth shut at that. He didn't know how Aramer had pulled off that particular feat, but he didn't doubt the man had used some of his shadier connections to do it. Still, Aerion thought, with the chill of the mountains, people would get sick without some kind of shelter.
“Now, I'll walk you over to your tent. I'm sure Corporal Gerhing will be disappointed he no longer has it to himself, but you can work it out with him. We march out in the morning, so no time to properly train with the soldiers until we hit the fishing village on the other side of the pass,” Maksim said. “But that doesn't mean you shouldn't be learning your job. I'll keep an eye on you, but don't think that because you're a good fighter that I'll keep you in your position if you can't handle it,” he warned. “If I think you can't pull your weight I'll drop you, understood?”
Aerion nodded quickly.
“Good,” Maksim said. “Now, let's go.”
***
Corporal Gerhing was a big fellow, though not as broad in the shoulders as Aerion. He sat on his bedroll as he sewed a patch into his tunic. The man looked to be in middle age, but he didn't seem too put out by Aerion being his senior. He seemed a bit disappointed at having to share the narrow tent, but he didn't say anything about it when Sergeant Maksim introduced him.
“Millar is the most experienced,” the big man said as he stitched neatly. “Gorich is pretty good too, both of them have a bit of service with their town militias. Neither of them know much about being away from town, though. They're both from from Zielona Gora.”
Aerion felt goosebumps pop up on his skin at the thought of Zielona Gora, the town where he'd nearly died under the punishment of the Traitor's Death. They probably won't recognize me, he thought. It was a big town, with over two hundred thousand people, or so he had heard.
“Trynosky, Dale, and Oren are all good soldiers,” Gerhing continued without looking up. “They don't know enough, yet, but they're trying hard. Eager to learn. Dedicated, too. I'd take them over just about anyone in my squad. Morag is an Earthblood, from down by Black Peak Pass, doesn't say much, but he's a hard worker.”
He tied the thread off, his face concentrated, “You've another nineteen after that and I can barely put their names to faces,” Gehring said. “That'll be your first job. Learn who they are, where they're from, why they're here.” He brought his tunic up to his mouth and bit off the thread. “Don't be surprised if they don't want to share it with you, at first. Most people here are running from their pasts. Some of us lost big to the Usurper or his men... some others were bandits or even some of his mercenaries. They had one woman come here and tell everyone that Darkbit threatened her family with death if she didn't come here to spy.”
Aerion's eyebrows went up, “What happened to her?”
Gerhing folded his tunic neatly and tucked it into his pack, “I think Lady Katarina sent someone to help her family sneak away, but I don't know the details, just what the woman said in front of the others. Don't be surprised, is all I'm saying, if one of your soldiers comes to you with a similar story,” Gerhing said. “And if they do, take them right to Captain Bartek or Senior Sergeant Jasen.”
Aerion nodded at that, “Of course.”
“Right,” Gehring said. “I'm sure Sergeant Maksim will introduce you to your people in the morning. Goodnight.” He didn't say anything else, but pinched off the stub of candle and lay back.
Aerion lay back on his own bedroll. His hands went to where the Starblade lay, safely tucked beneath the edge of his bedroll, but still within easy reach if he needed to fight. For whatever reason, no one had commented on it, though several had commented on his armor and helmet. Even Lady Katarina and Bulmor had not seemed to think of the blade and Aerion wondered if some shred of compulsion still lay on it from the spirit of Southwatch... or if the blade protected itself somehow.
***
“How's young Aerion doing?” Jasen asked as he drew alongside Sergeant Maksim.
The older man gave him a shrug, “Well enough. His soldiers seem to listen to him well enough, though I thought young Millar and Gorich were going to pass out when they saw he was their new squad leader.”
Jasen cocked an eyebrow at that. It took him a moment to put that together with what he knew of Aerion and the two young men. He grinned then, slightly, as he made the connection. “They remembered him from the Traitor's Death, then?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Maksim said. “Those two were a little too cocky anyway, so I figure answering to a man who should be dead by all accounts will teach them not to lord it over their compatriots a bit less.”
“Doesn't hurt Swordbreaker's reputation at all with the others, I expect,” Jasen said, his smile predatory. He had volunteered to be the Senior Sergeant for Third, but that was because he knew just how much work the company would need. Most of his soldiers barely deserved the name and while he valued Sergeant Maksim's and Ludwik's experience... both men hadn't served in far too many cycles. They were lax about discipline issues and neither of them had the fire that younger men had.
There was no doubt that both the older men, like most of the company, had a hatred for the Usurper and his men, but that wasn't the question. Will they fight, he wondered, when it is not just their lives on the line, but the lives of the men to either side? It was the question that Jasen couldn't answer, yet, and it was also why he welcomed having young Aerion join the company. That boy knew how to fight and Jasen agreed with old Arren's assessment that the boy had leadership potential.
“Well, he's taken to them fairly well, getting to know his people,” Maksim said. “He's nervous, I can tell, but he doesn't show it so that they notice.”
“Good,” Jasen said. “That's very good.” He looked down the column and he chewed his lip for a moment in thought. Third Company was at the front, more to allow them to reach the village of Ustka along the Ryft soonest. Originally, the intent behind that was to allow them to reach the flat ground there sooner and therefore to have more time to drill.
However, word from the rear was that Watkowa Pass wasn't handling this much traffic very well at all. The mountain trail had a number of narrow sections and went along the edge of several steep drops. Those areas had not handled the passage of men, horses, and supply wagons very well, with sections of the trail collapsing. No one had been killed, yet, but several men had been injured and a wagon of supplies, along with the horses pulling it, had been lost. Third Company had to move more slowly as a result and First Company was having to stop and repair sections of the road to be passable. There was no way, either, for the other two companies to get past his own. The trail didn't open up, in this section until they reached the village of Ustka.
Jasen well knew that their timeline was a factor of a number of events outside their control. If the other company was delayed further, then Third Company would have to take the place of First Company in the initial assault on the Ryftguard. That made his concerns over the fighting spirit of his men all the more important.
“Well, let me know of any issues,” Jasen said, finally. He had to go back to check on the supply wagons again and he just hoped they didn't lose another, else they would have to go on short rations until they reached their rendezvous with the Boir Navy personnel at Ustka.
***
Sergeant Aerion Swordbreaker
Aerion bit back a curse as the trail next to him crumbled a little bit more as the wagon's weight settled onto the narrowest part. He didn't mind heights, generally, but the drop had to be at least five hundred feet to the ravine floor and he had only six inches or so of ledge between the side of the wagon and empty space. He had stepped forward when the others had hesitated, to
guide the wagon from this side. It was already flush with the cliff face on the other side and no one wanted to be atop the thing lest they be trapped if the road started to give way.
“Push, damn you!” Aerion said with a glance over his shoulder, even as he pushed on the wheel itself, trying to keep it straight. Behind him, a dozen of the strongest men from his squad strained at the back of the wagon. The back wheels were still caught in the crevice which cut across the trail at a sharp angle. It was that angle which made this so difficult, for with their direction of travel, the wheels wanted to roll over rather than out. If they did that, then the wagon would plummet to the bottom of the ravine, dragging the supplies, horses and whoever couldn't get clear in time along with it.
He would have unloaded the wagon before the crevice, but it had literally crumbled under the back wheels as the wagon passed over that section. The trail was too narrow for them to unload the supplies to the front and behind them was another supply wagon, this one with a broken axle. That one, at least, they had room to unload and the rest of his squad was at work on that.
“Got to get momentum,” Aerion called, “Brute force won't do it. Work together, understand?”
Most of them nodded, though a couple looked too exhausted to do more than pause in their efforts. Aerion bit back a grimace, but perhaps he was being too hard on them. Many of them had only just arrived at the refuge before Lady Katarina ordered the companies to march. Perhaps they hadn't recovered, yet. If it is that or if they just aren't hard enough, he thought, they'll toughen up before I lead them into combat. “On three, then,” Aerion grunted. “Push with me, one, two, three!”
He strained with everything he had, trying to keep the front wheels centered and straight. Behind him he heard the wagon's axle groan, but the wagon came out of the crevice and the wagon, slowly creaked through the narrow section. Aerion followed it along until he had room to let it past and then he paused and took whooping breaths.