“Go ahead, we’re with you,” Mathew and Max pretty much said in unison.
Brian shook his head and looked more nervous than before. They then saw his hand moving back out of the tent into sight. There was a very large hand wrapped around his wrist and it was followed by what could not be described as a man. The ‘man’ was scarred and rugged looking. He actually reminded Max a lot of The Brigand. Some family relation maybe? Hopefully he did not know the fate of that man if they were related.
“What are ya scraggly looking boys do’an here?” His voice was scratchy like he even had battle wounds inside his throat. “I won’t be tolerating any foolishness in dis camp.”
Brian spoke after groaning in pain. “We were... shit... sent here to fight with the skirmishers. We’re supposed to prove we’re not enemies.”
A scratchy multi-toned laugh bellowed from the big man. “Oh, a pleasure then boys! The name’s Rufus. I be glad to have ya in ma’ troop! But really anybody in da skirmishers be on neither side. We are on da side of survival. Can’t say that side be doin’ us well either.”
The three gave each other nervous looks.
“I’ll keep ya alive as best ah can though. We need da men.”
They could hear coughing from inside the tent. A wheezing, sickly voice spoke up after some effort to do so. “Rufus, bring these new boys in here.” A long pause. “I’d like to get a look at a face that leads me to think of something other than death.”
“Ya got it my lord.” He held up the tent flap and pulled Brian inside. Then after letting go of Brian’s arm, he motioned for the other two to follow him in to the main body of the tent.
They looked around at many trinkets that were beautiful. Nothing that they had would ever make a good trade for any of these items. Even the old armor Brian wore, perhaps their greatest possession, would not be just in trade for any of these lamps, books, jewels or weapons.
“Ah yes, come closer here. My eyes aren’t as good as they should be.” The three of them approached a massive bed, one that didn’t make sense to be in the field under a tent. The man in the bed was quite sickly. His wheezing voice was weak and his breathing much more labored than that of Mathew during a hike. “Look at the innocence on the faces of these three. What brings such a group to the ranks of the skirmishers? Rufus, do you know their story?”
“Not too much sir, just rabble the nobles don’t wish ta have around I s’ppose.”
All three of them began to tell their story. Not the spy story that the previous questioner had claimed or that Brian clung onto. They told of the hamlet they had come from and of the journey they had only just begun. The storytelling was energetic and far more exciting than it needed to be. After all, they reminded the old man, the journey really had only just begun.
“You boys don’t look like you are ready to fight a war. You certainly do have weapons, but that is hardly enough to fight.” He then had a long coughing fit, one that he seemed to be holding back to finish his statement. “Maybe you boys can bring some spirit. Rufus, I want these boys by my side during the fighting. I want to keep a close eye on them for myself.”
“Aye, lord.” The lord’s eyes closed and he immediately started a wheezing snore. Rufus showed the three of them out. After they had gotten outside, Rufus stuck around instead of going back into the tent. Without saying a word he was giving the boys an opening to speak.
Max caught on first, of course. “He seems wealthy and of noble blood. He’s also quite sick. What is he doing with the skirmishers? Why is he out here in such a condition?”
“Da lord is an elder. He’s also made a few of unfriendly types back in the courts. He has been put in charge of da skirmishers, because o’ dat. Da sickness has just sorta’ come upon ‘im during the travels and previous battles.”
Mathew spoke up next, “and what is this lord’s name? We should know if we are to fight with him.”
“He be Lord Gadarax. You will be seein’ his side in battle. There won’t be too much fightin’ wit him though. I’ll do some trainin’ of yaz before we get to our next big fight. Yall learn a thing or two.”
The three thanked the man, then Rufus called for an escort to take them to where they would be sleeping. The escort was comprised of a couple of the more pleasant of the men they had seen. Not that they would ever be the type to pick flowers or anything of the sort, but perhaps they had only picked pockets or beat someone up. The area they were taken to was on the edge of the encampment. A tent was hastily raised for them. The fire that was between the groups of tents was already full of men. They tried their best to find a spot nearer to the fire, but most of the heat was soaked up by those directly around it.
Finally, the boys gave up on warming their chilled bones in the damp air and headed for the spot of their tent. A voice called out to them, “Nay, sorry boys. This tent is in too good a spot. It’s mine.”
A couple of men inspected the tent that had been set up for the three. Brian got the courage, he did that more and more, “We were assigned this tent by Rufus. You’d better leave it and us be.”
A man stepped out from the other two more non-descript soldiers. “We’ll leave you be just as soon as you leave our brand new tent.” The man that spoke had perfect teeth and an expensive sash over a finely hewn set of leather armor. “This is Ciylins’s tent now.”
Max almost spoke at that point to back up his friend when the finely dressed one, probably Ciylins, touched the hilt of a blade he wore at his side. He spoke again, “Don’t test me. Look at all the rewards I’ve sewn from previous battles. Look around at these other men in tattered rags. Not many survive these battles, and you’ll not be amongst their number. I have and I will.”
“Hey!” Brian yelled out. A couple of the men around the fire grabbed the three of them so that all they could do was watch as their stuff was thrown out into the dusty ground.
“You get that tent now boys!” All of them laughed. The three boys dejectedly went over, grabbed their belongings and hoofed it to their new tent.
That evening, it rained. The dust would be calmed now, but the evening was unpleasant. It became obvious why the other men had wanted to switch tents. Mathew stayed awake most of the night as the rain accumulated and dripped onto him in the tent. The other two were not immune to the dripping water. They had a miserable night with almost no sleep.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
The next morning, all of those same bastards were well clear of the tent of the three companions. They stood about as far from the tent as they could as they steered clear of the big man, Rufus. Upon arriving at the tent, he threw sparring weapons at the feet of the three boys. Quickly, he commanded the three to come outside and immediately started the three boys on a hard regimen of exercise of combat training.
It was obvious to Max that the men of this camp were fearful of Rufus. He found that thought enjoyable since Rufus had actually been mostly pleasant to the three of them. If Rufus could train them well, perhaps some of that fear could rub off on them. He was not holding his breath of course. It is not like the three of them came from the kind of stock that made a good soldier.
That night, around the camp fire, they were actually treated more poorly. The other men would occasionally grab one from behind and put them in head locks, or tried to beat them down by surprise. The boys were continuously abused throughout the night.
Jolly Jim and Big Belly Bixler made all the men in this part of camp crackle with laughter. Jolly Jim told jokes, and Big Belly actually pushed Brian over and sat on him. Meanwhile, Jolly Jim insisted to Mathew and Max that the only way to save their friend was to poke Bixler in his naked belly.
When they did so, Bixler just chuckled and all the men around the campfire mocked the boys. Finally, at Jolly Jim’s insistence, Big Belly Bixler moved and let Brian breathe the cool night air before suffocation totally kicked in.
They were already tired from no sleep and from beating each other all day, now this. They would surely go insane. The night was no better than the previous. Condensation had built up on the tent and leaked in again all evening.
Rufus arrived early the next few days and woke them to a regimen of training. The others looked on as on previous days. It was apparent that Rufus had noticed the other injuries on the three that were not from his training. It was also obvious that they had been getting very little sleep. Condensation dripping on them, pranks pulled on them in the middle of the night, and probably general nervousness kept the beast of sleep from taking them along.
Word had arrived that several small engagements had occurred with Candreale’s forces and that soon the camp would be moving. Whispers from the other men were that the battle that they had all been waiting for was likely soon to commence.
Upon arriving that morning and seeing a black eye on Mathew that he had not seen the previous day, Rufus changed their training a bit. He handed each of them sparring weapons and told them to stand side by side and then walked away counting out his paces.
He grabbed his large great axe from the ground and stood about twenty paces away. “Come at me. Let’s see if I been a wastin’ ma time.” The three of them looked at each other nervously. The onlookers nearby ran around the nearby parts of camp and started to gather a veritable crowd of the burly, dirty men. “I’ll be a comin’ at ya soon if ya don’t press in yaself.”
Max could feel that the other two were in no condition to press an attack and the mood was affecting him. Rufus hefted his axe and took a step in their direction. Max’s heart was thumping like a war drum. It was at that moment that their savior arrived, Mathew’s temper. Several of the onlookers started to heckle the fat boy, even though after the last weeks’ worth of training, he lost quite a bit of his gut and puffy cheeks. Max was not going to complain though as his own anger and will to fight increased along with Mathew’s.
Mathew looked over at Max and then at Brian standing on the far end. He nodded, “Let’s do this. No time like the present right?”
Max nodded back, “I suppose not.”
Brian nodded and grinned, “Agreed, let’s do this.”
The three of them looked out at the crowd that was forming and then in unison they all looked toward Rufus who had taken a dozen paces toward them at that point.
They raised their wooden weapons and stared at his metallic great axe. Brian then yelled louder, “Let’s do this,” almost like a battle cry for his team. He launched himself towards Rufus and his two friends were only a footstep behind. His gusto did not last long however as he went face first into the pommel of the great axe that bashed him into the ground. His bold move had thrown Rufus off guard. The attack in unison left Rufus with no choice but to back pedal and go on guard, which was obviously difficult with such a massive weapon. He planted his back foot and rather than using his energy on defending with his weapon he lunged forward towards Mathew and screamed. The move caught Mathew so off guard himself that he slipped and landed on his back with a crunch.
The onlookers all gasped from the impact as they mutually felt his pain. Brian was stumbling up and rubbing his face, still stunned from the heavy blow. Max swung at Rufus but the quick lunge toward Mathew had been enough of a move for the swing to connect only with the ground where Rufus was previously standing.
Rufus moved quickly for such a large man. He used the momentum of his lunge to carry him in a spin beyond where Mathew had fallen. He stepped with a heavy stomp on Mathew’s stomach in the process, knocking whatever willpower Mathew had left out of him. Mathew let go of his weapon and his face was one of surrender. Max maneuvered around Mathew’s prone form to flank Rufus as Brian finally made his way over to the fight.
“Come on Mathew, don’t give up. We’ve got him on the run. Whoever would have thought we could do that?” Mathew rolled onto his side and looked out toward the onlookers. They did seem riveted, not just heckling. Brian and Max pushed in on both sides of Rufus and the fire pit, now only filled with embers, was on the great man’s other side. There was only one feasible direction for him to go, and that was back over Mathew’s prone position. He grunted with exertion as he began to perform a running, parrying, spinning leap. His axe swung in a wide semi-circle, blocking Max’s and Brian’s wooden weapons. He lunged up and over Mathew only to be shocked as Mathew’s wooden weapon connected right around his groin and sent him flailing through the air with little control.
It appeared that they had done it! They had taken down the giant of a man they knew as Rufus! He tumbled down, letting go of his axe to prevent from chopping at himself during the high-speed maneuver. Mathew got to his feet as quickly as he could while the other two pursued Rufus’ roll as quickly as they could. Two of the three of them were on top of Rufus before he got back to his feet, and he was apparently unarmed.
He laughed in that scratchy voice that he had used to instruct them for the last few days. His hands slowly raised into the air. It was indeed over. “Well done boys, ya gotz ma good. Ha ha ha ha!”
The training session was the shortest one so far with Rufus. Just after that, he left. He shared few words with them; he simply nodded and walked away with his training weapons in tow.
That night was a wholly different night. They were given a space near the fire, and the men didn’t call them boys. They were asked to recount the skirmish again and again. All three of them felt a new confidence, new to them not just since their arrival, but also since their birth.
Just before retiring for the evening, Max sensed something wrong. He was just starting to get up to walk away from the fire. He quickly dipped to one side and a large set of interlocked arms dropped down on where his head had just been, barely dodging the grapple. Everyone around the fire gasped in surprise. Max took a quick step back and over the makeshift bench he had been sitting on. Then without hesitation he slammed into the figure with the interlocking arms. Jolly Jim tried to pull a prank just like on many of the previous nights. This time was different. Instead of Max groaning and surrendering to get out of the headlock, Jolly Jim screamed. He fell right into the fire, caused by the sudden disappearance of his target, Max. The fire belched around his body and shocked all those sitting there around the fire. Everyone got up from their seats and Jolly Jim quickly rolled out of the fire screaming in surprise and pain.
Brian moved quickly to where the man had rolled out of the flames. He was not on fire, but he was singed on his clothes and burned on his arms. Brian grabbed his sleeves and looked Jolly Jim in the face. “Where is your tent?” he yelled. The man hurriedly pointed. “We’ll be taking that one now. Tell your tent mates to get their shit out.”
Max thought quickly and saw a chance to set his friends apart from this rabble, “No. Wait, Brian. Let’s not do that. Our tent is fine. He’s learned his lesson.”
Mathew and Brian both looked confused. “Um, okay, I guess.”
The three of them walked towards their tent. Mathew spoke up, pointing at Max. “Since you turned down our tent move, you get to sleep under the drippy spot tonight.” Max nodded. It was dry tonight and no rain fell the last couple nights. Maybe the condensation was finally all gone.