by P. S. Power
He didn’t normally look at people’s thoughts, but this time he did, not knowing why the man might have any sort of trouble or problem with him, in particular. When he got the idea, he nearly nodded, however. The man wanted Anders to allow his forces to move and knew that the boy would be leaving in no more than a few days’ time.
On top of that, the General wasn’t totally certain that Anders could do what was claimed. So he wanted what was promised by the child being there, while also not knowing if it was real or not.
The man would learn, so Anders put that thought aside.
The simmering tension was hard to ignore, once he noticed it. It was, he thought, a response to the idea that sooner or later, the men and women there, would be going off to fight the enemy. While the General seemed eager to do that, almost no one else truly was. A few, perhaps, but those individuals didn’t feel right to him. They seemed half insane, when he bothered to look at them.
Perfect for war or battle, but not so much for anything else.
Sleep came easily to him, and he didn’t wake up, until someone rather cruelly shook him. For a long time. Cracking open a single eye, he half expected to find Erold doing the work of waking him, since the boy was the one person there he was close to. Instead it was Sir Clemence, the knight.
He frowned a bit, as the man backed up, holding a hand out, placating him.
“Easy there. You didn’t wake on your own and we didn’t know when you needed to see to your duties. It’s time for the first meal.” The man looked away then and grimaced a bit. “As it is. You’re a better cook than the military men that the General has doing it here, it seems. We get some gruel though and Sir Humphrey ordered an extra-large portion of it for you, so... Time to face the day?” The strained smile spoke of expecting a fight over being woken. That or the poor food that was on offering. Odds were it would be only bland though, not poor in quality otherwise.
They’d come in with food supplies, after all, so they wouldn’t be eating the last dregs of moldy supplies or anything. At least he hoped that was the case. If not, he still had some meat and other supplies gathered from the road, in the little cart. Enough to feed them all for a week or two, now that they weren’t sharing it with the entire caravan.
“Uhg.” He forced a grin then, so the man would understand he didn’t blame him for making certain he rose at a decent hour. Not that he was. There was light in the doorway of the heavy canvas structure, and from the sounds of it, everyone outside was well and truly awake for the day already. No one else was inside with him, though their gear was still laid out. Tidied though, which he did first thing as well, even before standing to go use whatever the facilities were there.
A hole in the ground, no doubt. It had to be done, but he wasn’t looking forward to the ordeal. The decently large knight moved back, letting him get to his feet, on seeing that he was taking care of things and not going back to sleep.
Glancing at the man, Anders shook his head a little.
“Thank you, Sir Clemence. I’ll get to things directly. I should have been up for a long while already. It was a bit of a late night.”
The man nodded at him, his face innocent seeming.
“Busily visiting your lady friends, in the rear camp?”
The man knew that wasn’t the case, and was, Anders had to figure, teasing him, for some reason. Probably because they were supposed to be friends, more or less. In that spirit, he nodded.
“Well, you know how it is. A man has needs and...” He yawned then and shook his head. “Sorry. I was actually trying to get the first part of my actual duties here done. I’ll test that today, after the mid-meal. Before then... I think I need to convince the General that I can actually do some magic.”
Those words got a solid nod from the man, who had taken the time to shave his lower face, leaving only a tidy mustache. That was a jet black in color, which contrasted nicely with his clean and smooth face. The fellow wasn’t old, having seen over twenty years, but not much more than that.
“I heard of that, from Sir Humphrey, last night, over the fire. That he suggested you rest for some time and the General desired to have the camp put to right, and freed of mud and muck. I was surprised that he didn’t have harsh words for Coelder, to be truthful. Not that I blame the man for wanting to see such a feat. This place is a pit, once you get off of the path you created yesterday.”
Anders, still feeling a bit puffy and slow from sleep, tidied himself, speaking the ten spells he used for that kind of thing. First his mouth was taken care of, what was there flying out the door of the place, then his skin and hair did the same, losing the grit and odor of the last day. Finally, he went over his other gear, so that it was all dry and rust free for the metal bits.
He did it each day, so it didn’t look like much more than him walking around and muttering at things. Sir Clemence stood there anyway. Watching him do it. As if it might be a show or amusement.
Which given where they were, might just be correct.
He used the jakes first, which required him to drive water from soil and to harden the area around the hole that was in use, just to stand without sinking ankle deep. He smoothed the ground first, which took energy to make happen. Enough that, after he emptied his bladder, he muttered a spell at his hands to cleanse them and turned to the knight, who had followed him.
That was a bit odd, really.
“I... I really won’t fall back to sleep, or run off to hide from the work. Even if I would rather be resting.” He blinked a few times as he spoke, the idea seeming almost foreign to him, even if Anders the boy had once had a reputation for the kind of thing.
There was a small smile from the knight then.
“Nothing like that. I have orders to make certain you’re cared for and not abused. We don’t want some soldier in rut to assume you’re here for his amusement, after all.” The man seemed to playing again, then sobered. “Especially given that they’d probably end up dead, if anyone tried that. No one would get that, looking at you though, so you get a keeper, even if you don’t strictly need one. The same with the princes, if that leaves you feeling any better about it.”
It didn’t, but Anders simply accepted the idea. He didn’t particularly want to be buggered if he had a choice in the matter. The idea that some might try such a thing with him had been presented, more than once, in several different situations. If being followed by a knight prevented that, he’d live with it.
“Ah. Well, that sounds boring, for you. I need to eat, then see if I can work out how water needs to flow, around the camp here.” It was a vast space, to simply harden all at once. The water needed to be drained off, and go someplace, or it would be a larger problem than doing nothing at all would have.
Sir Clemence waved him back toward the tents, to where a small folding table had been propped up. There was not only a bowl of the promised gruel, but it had a large clump of fat on the top, with some salt and a piece of hard bread in it. The man winced at it, but from the other bowls there, it was clear that the others there had eaten something similar for their own first meal.
He had the supplies to do better, but hadn’t been awake to see to it. Hanging his head a bit in shame for sleeping half the day, he stood there, on the packed and relatively dry earth around the tents and ate, using the bread to scoop the food into him. It would be filling, if nothing else.
When he finished, he cleaned the bowls and stopped to look around. There was a long hill, to the east, with the water running off to the south. The whole place was on a slope, which should mean that it was a lot drier than the bottom of the valley below would be. After a bit, probably seeming like he was nearly asleep on his feet, he closed his eyes and checked the whole situation using his wizard skills.
That was difficult, since he didn’t truly understand the nature of flowing water. Anders, the boy, was better with it than Farad, but neither of them were masters of the topic, by any means. Still, he worked out that water moved downward and would follow th
e easiest course it could. That meant, when he opened his eyes, he pointed at the space to the east and north.
“We need to build a hardened stream, for the water on the hill to follow. Right now, it’s just trickling through the soil, under the camp. I can order the soil to dry, but if we don’t fix that, it will be muck again in a week. This way?” He gestured, the other man simply nodding and walking with him. They matched in their clothing, which got some looks.
People would probably think he was the other man’s squire, given that. There with some special contingent, sent by the King himself. He realized, as he moved, that last bit was actually the case. He just hadn’t really been thinking of it that way, before that point.
As they moved, he made a solid path in front of them, since he didn’t really want to wade in the muck, if he didn’t have to. That meant he was out of breath, if only slightly, by the time they got to the top of the hill. The other man wasn’t, but there was no mocking him on the subject, even if it had to seem like he was too out of condition to make it up a simple hill without gasping and moaning about it. That wasn’t the case, of course. If he hadn’t been throwing magic around like a fool while he walked, he would have been fine.
There was a job to be done though, so, even if it wasn’t the best use of his personal energy that day, and he wasn’t certain that it wasn’t, given the state of the camp below, he started working, moving large sections of earth to form a gully, running from the top of the hill toward the bottom. Each ten pace area had to be gone over five times, on the top section, along the eastern portion of the camp. That made a line that was about ten feet deep and about that wide.
After ten iterations of this he stopped, and just stood there, breathing hard for a while. There was much more to do, but he talked about the plan, as a way to buy time for himself to recover a bit.
“This, first bit, is the hard part.” Dreading it already he went on then, moving vast amounts of earth, over and over again. Then hardening it and walking on. It took hours to have something that resembled a stream that was already collecting water from up the hill, and sending it around the edge of the camp, down into the valley to the south. By the time he was finished, he was moving water and dirt, in order to shape things along the correct path.
Then he just stood there for a while, attempting not to black out on his feet. It was bad enough that Sir Clemence moved in and took his right arm above the elbow, meaning he was probably swaying in a visible fashion. The man didn’t suggest he stop though, when he started working again. The rest of the effort wasn’t a lot simpler, at first. Not until he realized that he only needed to really hit the main walk ways and side paths. The areas under the tents had been kept a bit drier, so they weren’t sinking as badly and the soil hadn’t been churned into a batter like sludge.
Which meant, by mid-meal, he was back at his own camp, eating out of the supplies that he’d brought, having some hard bread, cheese and meat, with greens on it, so he wouldn’t end up all bound up. He ate a lot of it, his belly swelling uncomfortably by the time that everyone from the day before got there to meet with him. He was less than comfortable and felt fat from the excess, even as his arms and legs fairly swam in the clothing he had on.
General Coelder came out of his tent and looked out at the road in front of them, and gestured. That came with an interested and somewhat pleasant expression from the man, at least.
“Walk with me, please.” That was for the others there, the magic users and the cook, though he ended up with Anders and Sir Clemence as well, since it was clear that the goal was to examine the work that had been done.
The man stomped on the ground a bit, and kicked at the now smooth path.
“This feels good, Master Brolly. Like we could march men on it all day long. There’s a line on the ridge up there... Is that your work?”
He nodded, feeling too tired to really answer a lot of unneeded questions. He answered anyway, since the other man was in charge there. At least he started to do that, when Sir Clemence nodded and pointed in that direction.
“A gully was formed, to draw the water from the hill off and around us. It’s ten feet deep on that upper portion, which is impressive to look on. Then, once that was done, protecting us from the water from that elevation, the main roads and paths of the camp were dried and made into what you see here, instead of the slop it was. In all, that took him four hours. A lot of work, too. I don’t know that he could have done it much faster. He nearly went down a few times, to get this done.” There was a dark coldness to the man’s voice, as if he hated the military man for making Anders do it.
A thing that the General noticed, then seemed to soundly ignore.
“Just making a path dry and hard enough to walk on will be easier, correct? Can you do this again tomorrow, do you think?”
Several of the formerly quiet people with them, who were wisely standing back, gasped then. The older woman, Clary Senek, actually stared at the General, like he was a true idiot.
When she spoke, her voice was annoyed, instead of pleasant or calm. That, being bothered by things, seemed a common enough state for her.
“This is the work of a true master. Not one in a hundred with the ability to do this actually could have managed it once, much less every day like you seem to be suggesting. Master Brolly is a strong man, clearly, but the good sort, who is using only his own powers to get things done. He’ll need to rest.”
Rather than snap at the woman, and asking her to know her place, he nodded.
“I understand, Wizard Senek. Unfortunately, we only have Master Brolly’s skills for a limited time. We could plan the attack for two days, if you were to rest for that time?” He poised himself in a fashion that clearly expected some yelling to be going on, but Anders thought about it and then nodded.
“If we keep the path narrow, say five paces across, and plan things out first, we should be able to make that work. I need to eat more. Not that I can at the moment.” He was uncomfortably full, though he didn’t get to announce that to the people there.
Instead he closed his eyes.
“I need to test my connection to each of you, which I can do all at one time, I think. I also added Mary, from the caravan, to the list of people I can get in touch with.” He looked at the General, figuring that Sir Clemence was about to mock him over that one, even if it was only due to the woman having been around like she had been. “She’s one of the whores that came in with us. Also a good cook and helper that way. We can use her to pass messages to the people there, without sending a man riding out every time you want to do that.” It was more work for him, in potential, but probably wouldn’t come up all that often.
The older man simply smiled.
“That sounds wonderful! You can do all of this from the castle? We... Really, you should stay, for the winter. I’ll have a letter sent off to the King, begging for that. This work you did today... It’s simply amazing.”
Even Anders felt that it had turned out nicely enough. None of the soldiers passing seemed to have noticed it yet, at least not to mention in his presence, but he was right by the General, so that might not be happening any time soon. Instead, he stood there, crafted a simple one-line communication, and sent it to every name he knew, all at once. It meant that both Mary and his mother, Lyse, were getting the same thing, as well as Princess Aisla, and Prince Alpert. Master Belford as well as Captain Ford, since they might need to be communicated with at times. Prince Erold was left off, for the time being, in case he was taken prisoner, since that idea had been mentioned by the King. Some of them were people he’d never connected with before that way. It would, no doubt, be a shock to them.
Corporal Derry looked surprised, then spoke.
“Crud! I hear a voice. It’s um, saying that Anders Brolly is talking to me, in my head and that this is a test of the magical communications system, not me going insane. It’s starting again... How long does it do that for? It could get old, hearing voices talk to me like that. It doesn’t
really sound like you, neither.” He seemed a bit suspicious on that score, as if someone else might have placed a message in his ears like that.
Nodding, he explained.
“That’s what I sound like, inside my mind. That one will go five times, giving you time to write it down or report the message. Most of the time it won’t go out to everyone all at once. I’ll try to send something to everyone, at least a few times per year, to make certain the system is still in play. I should have you all in it now. Some others, too. I need to check on them, since a few of them probably won’t be too pleased with being included like this.”
To that end, he shut his eyes and dropped into a deep trance. Everyone had gotten the message, with only Mary not being certain what it meant. That Anders, her little friend, had spoken to her, using magic, but not what, if anything, she was supposed to do with it. He had to compose a second message spell, and muttered it out loud. Then he opened his eyes, to see everyone standing there, watching him. As if he might be interesting.
“Oh. Sorry, Mary was a bit worked up, so I just told her that it was fine and she might get some messages that way, in the future. Everyone else understood, well enough.” Lady Lyse, rather embarrassingly, was entertaining someone, a woman who seemed familiar to Anders, in a bedroom fashion at the time she’d heard it, which had made doing what was needed harder for her, but she’d understood the basic idea well enough.
General Coelder tightened then.
“Are you off to the next camp then, so soon?”
Anders shook his head.
“No. We have that action to plan out, first. Probably just the one, then I’ll need to go and see to my primary task, since I have orders from the King himself to that end. Still, we get a few days, which won’t be missed from the schedule. Really, we probably have a week or two, if it’s needful.”