The air was filled with the heavy tromp of boots striking the earth. The Company of the Black Boar had found its rhythm.
Sweat gathered on my neck, trickling down my chest and back as I ran. The South was always so damn hot, but at least in a few weeks, we’d have the opposite problem. Two columns of twenty men jogged behind me, with Draxus and Kato close at hand.
Every day for the past five days we had been training as a company. Running, sparing, drilling in formations, and practicing the shield wall. Many of the recruits were green, and their lack of combat knowledge showed as they struggled to adapt to wearing arms and armor. Those that had been former city guard at least had some experience and were able to help the others learn the basics.
I knew how it must look from the outside. Hell, I’d heard the whispers every morning as I lead the company on our morning run.
“They aren’t even soldiers,” One man wearing Blackthorne’s livery had said, watching us jog by with a sneer. “Just a bunch of hunters, shop guards, and washed-up city patrol. What is Ser William thinking?”
It was a sentiment shared by many of the other companies in the standing Kadian army. Men loved to underestimate other men. While I was indifferent to most of the pointless muttering, my men weren’t entirely unaffected.
As we jogged back down the path and into camp I saw some of my men glare at a group of soldiers sniggering around a campfire. One of them pointed towards the last of my recruits, an older man I’d come to know as Anders. Their laughter echoed through the camp, drawing the attention of others. I made it a point to note those involved as I called for halt.
In front of the tents, Vera waved at me with her ladle in hand. She had one hand over her stomach, where the tiniest of bumps was now visible.
“You’re just in time, sir William.” She said, stirring the contents of the bubbling cookpot. The smell made my stomach growl.
“Is that breakfast stew?” I asked, and she smiled. “It is indeed. Over some rice and with a fresh egg cracked on top it will be hearty and loaded with protein. Some of your boys are in need of it,” she added, lowering her voice and nodding towards a scrawny youth towards the back.
“Not the most well-fed bunch.”
“Or in some cases, overfed,” said Kato, reaching for the ladle handle eagerly only to have his hand slapped away.
I gave them both a look.
“Everyone has to start somewhere. I wasn’t exactly cream of the crop when I first joined the Auxilliary either, but nobody complained about a rookie with no experience and a whole lot of luck back then.”
“Yeah but you killed a troll on your first day,” said Kato. He had given up trying to steal a taste of stew and instead thrown himself down on the nearest stump, peeling off his socks with a grimace. Vera made a disgusted sound as the sock in question came away with a wet squelch.
“Can’t you take that somewhere else?” she snapped. “You men really are disgusting.”
“You love us,” Draxus patted Vera on the back before producing something from his inventory and handing it to her. “Besides, K and I got you to think. Thought you might like it.”
Vera blinked, looking somewhere between suspicious and surprised.
“You… got me something?”
Draxus nodded and she reached up and took the parcel in her hands. When the linen bag fell away she was left holding a small wooden box that looked as if it had been hand-carved. Her eyebrows met in confusion until she flipped the lid and her jaw dropped.
“These are…. Where on earth did you boys find this? This is a proper collection of spices. Southern, Eastern,…” she trailed off and made a sound In her throat. “Is that Navarian seasoned salt? And these dried herbs…” she brought some crushed herbs to her nose and inhaled deeply. Then a smile split her face, so wide that it infected everyone around her.
“You boys shouldn’t have,” she whispered, closing the box and holding it in her arms like it was a child. Kato grinned.
“Does that mean you forgive us?”
Vera shook her head, but her smile remained. “Oh Go on then.”
In a few minutes, wooden bowls were filled with rice, steaming stew and fresh eggs purchased from a local farmer. I helped pass the food around and the men of my company accepted it gratefully. I came to stand by the fire, blowing on my own bowl to cool the meal. It was then that I overheard the tail end of a conversation.
“What’s the point of it anyway?” said a recruit, stabbing his spoon moodily into his bowl. “It’s not like we’re real soldiers anyway, and every man in the camp seems to know it.”
“They think we’re a joke,” said another older man I’d come to know as Anders. “I know it’s just a bit of teasing but… maybe they’re right about us. We’re not cut out for this. We never have been.”
A few of the new recruits echoed that sentiment and I stared into my bowl, at my own reflection in the yoke of the egg. I looked different after my days in the campaign. Gone was the baby fat around my cheeks. Any trace of my soft earth life was gone. My jaw was square, my dark eyes heavy-set and hard. Stubble lined my chin, and the soft pink line of a scar ran across the right side of my jaw. A testament to my run-in with the shadow Magus.
I knew how the men must feel. Knew what it was like to be the underdog – the one everyone underestimated. The only difference on my end had been confidence and a little bit of blind luck. Slowly, I set the bowl down on a stool and cleared my throat.
The men of my company glanced up. Some sat on stumps or logs around the fire. Others lounged on the grass or stood between the tents. A sea of eyes turned towards me, and I saw a mixture of emotions. Worry, self-doubt, and even hope. I could work with hope.
“Alright,” I said, straightening my shoulders. “I’ve heard some of your doubts. I know how you must feel. The life of soldering is new to you, and there is a lot to learn. On every side, you’re surrounded by men with more experience, better gear, and reputations as the army''s finest. These are men at arms or soldiers trained in the capital who have been taken in service of a lord. Strong fighting men.”
I paused for emphasis, glancing out of the corner of my eye toward the group of soldiers that had mocked us moments before. They were sitting still, heads tilted to the side. Good, they were listening.
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“However,” I said, letting the word hang in the air. “You have something that even they do not. That is – purpose. You are not a man at arms that fights for money. You are not a Knight who values glory and the fame of his name. You are men and women who have seen the worst of war, and have instead chosen to rise up against it.”
I pointed at the youth who had first spoken.
“Kaiden, is it? Your mother said that you faced down two orc invaders that broke into your home, defending your mother and sister and sustaining a nasty injury in the process. I’ve seen your scars, boy. Who would call you a coward?”
The youth flushed but seemed pleased at the compliment. I turned to Anders.
“Anders your story is known among the merchants of Ceris. You ran into a burning building to help save a woman and her dog trapped inside. Not a car for your own safety, no hesitation. You did what needed to be done and you’ll always carry the mark of that.”
The old guard ran a hand along the puckered burn marks on his arm and nodded to me gratefully.
“And you, Vesper. Yes, I know your name.” I added as the soldier flushed. “You were one of the guards who stayed with me on the wall and fought despite overwhelming odds. You shook in your armor when you saw an orc up close for the first time but you stood your ground even when others broke. Seventeen years old, and you held the line.”
The youth’s shoulders straightened a little bit.
I looked from man to man, holding each one''s gaze. These were my men, and I needed them to know I knew them.
“Every single one of you bastards, and ladies,” I added, winking at Aster who let out a laugh with the other female archers. “Are here because you did what needed to be done when it mattered most. You stood your ground, you grit your teeth, and you fought for your family, your homes, and your land. are who I want beside me when I hold the line. are the men I would trust to guard my back. You lack formal training, yes. You’re under-leveled compared to most. But that is why we train, gentlemen and women. We train harder, we train tougher, and we train to win.”
The mood around the camp had picked up. Even Vera had stopped stirring her pot to stare at me, her eyes bright with something. That something was hope. I stooped, picking up a small golf ball-sized stone and balancing it in my palm. Slowly, I reached for the burning center of my core.
The sniggering from the nearby campfire had stopped, but I wasn’t satisfied. Not yet. Not until I had driven my point home.
“So,” I said staring down at the stone even as I felt a tingle erupt down my arms. “The next time some old boys try to tell you that you aren’t fit to be a soldier… tell them Will of Blackbriar said they can fuck off.”
I punctuated the last two words with a flick of my wrist, turning and launching the stone towards the seated soldiers and the cookpot bubbling over the campfire. The stone, infused with a small amount of my mana moved faster than I would have thought possible and I realized too late that I may have underestimated my own power.
The rock glowed blue and, with a sound like a gunshot, punched completely through the cookpot, shattering it in a mini explosion of metal shards and hot liquid. There were a few howls of dismay, several soldiers diving for safety over the very logs they’d been sitting on. One of the men had been caught in the leg by hot porridge and was now hopping comically up and down, boot clutched in his hands. Even as I watched, the soldier slipped landing on his back in the dust.
This time it was my men who were laughing.
***
“You’re just in time Ser William,” said the matron behind the counter of the bathhouse. She smiled at me as I slid a few coins across the counter, and signed my name into the ledger at the desk.
“We were just getting ready to shut down for the night, but for you,” her eyes slid down me appreciatively. “We can always make an exception.”
“I’m just here for the bathhouse services,” I said and she faked a pout. “Oh very well. You Knights an your honor, mmm?”
I rubbed at a sore spot on my shoulder as the Matron had one of her assistants fetch me a towel and refreshments. It was late and the moon had already risen into the sky by the time I had made it into Ceris. I had forgotten my short sword and instead had buckled on Iron Fang as a precaution. The weapon had been my constant companion and one that had served me well.
I thought as I stripped behind a curtain and set my clothes and armor aside. But upgrading gear meant money, and that was something that I had much less of than I’d like. Armoring and kitting my men had been well worth the expense, but it had quickly eaten through any of the funds we had earned through hunting monsters in the swamp lands and beyond.
Rodric was a skilled smith and had been able to upgrade some of my preexisting gear. My troll skin coat had gained stats in resistance, and my snake scale gauntlets had been fitted with new internal leather. Increased grip strength meant increased damage, and I was eager to try it out on the next unfortunate monster I came across.
I swept the curtain aside and strode the length of the bath hall towards where my attendant stood, eyes down. The man bowed his head and gestured towards the fragrant bubbling tub set into the limestone.
“Your water is ready, ser William as are your soaps. Would you care for additional refreshments? Wine perhaps? Or some food and drink?”
I thought of my dwindling supply of coins and sighed.
“That won’t be necessary tonight but thank you.”
The man smiled and departed, and I waited until I heard the heavy door at the head of the hall shut before I whisked off my towel and set it aside. On top, I laid Iron Fang close enough that I could reach it if there was trouble.
The water felt amazing as I slid in. Warmth instantly relaxed sore muscles, and I felt some of my stiffness begin to ease away as I scrubbed myself with soap. The bathhouses were a luxury I was going to miss on the road.
I took my time there, letting the warmth of the bath seep deep into my bones and wash away my weariness. Then, after I had scrubbed myself clean I focused and brought up my stat window. Water dripped in a steady rhythm from my wet hair as I examined my progress.
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I had managed to gain to levels since the battle in Ceris, and my swordsmanship trait was now on par with Kato’s. What had drawn my attention however was the new section for techniques. There I could see the counter-strike technique I had learned days ago, along with an upgrade tab. I focused on the tab and it opened. Text scrawled across my vision, and I sat back as I read over the information.
I slicked my wet hair out of my eyes. Combined? That was interesting. So far the skills that I had unlocked via quest prerequisites had by far been my most powerful asset. The traits that I learned gave me some bonuses as well, but if I wanted to grow my strength I knew I’d need more.
The ability to learn and upgrade techniques, and even eventually combine them seemed like a useful skill. In the end, it all came down to learning careful mana control.
“Blackthorne was right,” I muttered, reaching for my wine goblet before realizing I hadn’t ordered any brought to me. I sighed. Tight belt indeed.
For the better part of an hour, I lounged in the bath, until the night grew quiet and the candles beside me began to sputter. The water had long since grown tepid and reluctantly I rose from the water and reached for my towel.
That was when I heard it. The noise was faint, so much so that I wasn’t sure if I had really heard it at all. I paused, hand hovering over my towel as I listened. It wasn’t long before it came again. A faint tapping noise from somewhere…
I rose from the water as slowly and quietly as I could. Wrapping a towel around my waist I lifted Iron Fang off the tile and gripped the handle.
Something wasn’t right. I could sense it, though I wsan’t sure what it was that was making my scalp prickle. Was it just unease? The last of the bathhouses patrons had left shortly after I’d arrived, leaving me alone. My attendant was likely still in the front room, and if I called for him…
My thoughts trailed off as my mind honed in on the sound again. Tapping.. no it was a steady rhythmic clicking that sounded a lot like. A memory jogged my mind, and In an instant, I’d drawn Iron Fang and dropped into a crouch.
I had heard that sound before, albeit at a smaller scale. The sound my childhood dog made whenever he had needed a vet visit and a nail trim. The sound of claws on tile.
Slowly I stepped beyond the curtain, which gently swayed in the breeze from a nearby high window. Staring down the bathhouse hall, my eyes jumped from point to point. It was quiet – almost eerily silent now.
Most of the bath pools had been drained and emptied, and the candles around the edges of the room had long since gone out. Darkness gathered at the far end of the hall. And it was in that darkness, that something flickered. I stared into the shadow, my pulse thundering in my ears as I gripped the handle of my dagger tightly in my damp hand.
There, in the depth of that darkness, two large red eyes stared back.