I returned to my temporary home late at night. The workers were already getting ready for bed. Even though they’d spent all day sleeping they were still drowsy.

#

The rain had let up by morning, but the rainwater was still flowing through the streets and our worksite was submerged in mud.

#

The day after, we were called to pick up shovels and clear the worksite of mud. It took two days to clean it all up and so, on the fourth day after the storm we resumed work.

For the next week, I let myself be completely consumed by the work. I did not think, I did not wonder, I did nothing other than labour, eat, and sleep. In all honesty, this was the best week I had had in the past ten years. It was an easy life—hard when it came to the body, but easy on the mind. The security of food, the security of work, the security of environment. I don’t know why, but it was great. Perhaps after another month of this I’d get bored or my body would break, but for now it was great.

That’s when, on the twelfth morning, a messenger came with a message from the duke. “Gregoire de Gargoyle, you have been called to serve for your lord Fabien de Normandie. You are to head to the fourth camp in the Eastern plains of Rouen. There you will receive further instructions.”

With that he disappeared, and I was left stranded in the middle of the street.

I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but I knew that this was the turning point in my life. Not gaining a class, not serving the duke, but joining this war.

All else stays, I could live a normal civilian life, perhaps one with more or less money, more or less prestige, but a civilian life, nonetheless.

But joining a war. The tales of knights, and wondering warriors ran deep in the Norman mind.

But before I could take this step, I needed to see someone first.

#

“Richard.” It didn’t take me long to find him. Although he had lost the air of an adventurer, he was still just as tall.

“What,” his voice was strained. His eyes were red, framed by large purple eye bags.

“I’m joining the war.” I don’t know why I had come to tell him this.

“Then go.” He mustn’t have slept since coming here. We were paid by the day, and it didn’t seem like he had ever skipped one night of gambling.

“You shouldn’t gamble. But if you do, at least take a day off.”

Richard turned around, ignoring me.

“Maybe you’ll gamble better if you’ve slept a bit.”

“Fair,” he muttered and climbed down the ladder which led to the pipes.

I suppose that’s all I could say. I couldn’t not care for him… I suppose I wasn’t as cold as he and Isabelle claimed I was. Those years together really did teach me a lot. It made me who I am now, so it would always be hard not to have a place for them in my heart. But perhaps it was for the best that I was heading off now.

Every friendship had its time. We no longer had anything in common except for our past—

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The past is only good for bonding when drunk.

I doubted Richard had any coins left for drinks.

#

“Are you Gregoire!”

“Yes,” I said, moving aside to let the flow of men continue.

“Then head to the armoury, take this.” The man wearing a ranger’s uniform handed me a slip of parchment. Glancing it over I read, “Ranger’s armour for Gregoire de Gargoyle, ranger of the fourth reconnaissance corps.”

Looking over to Ligothe on my shoulder, the man asked, “Is your gargoyle able to relay information to you from a distance?” A rather reasonable question if I was to serve in a reconnaissance corp.

“No, unfortunately, but I can communicate with it.”

“That’s good enough, go get your armour and report back. We got a few new recruits including you so there are some things that need going over. Be quick ranger.”

Giving him a slight bow, I ran off to the armoury.

The duke had set up a large encampment where armourers and weapon-smiths had set up stalls. The duke had earlier sent them a few templates with the various armour sets that would be needed. All that us new recruits had to do was present an official request for armour, and we’d be given our kit.

Not having to bring your own armour inspired more sons to join this expedition. Of course this would be tremendously expensive for the duke, but I suppose it was something he could afford.

Looking around, the camp was teeming with people. Hundreds of tents were set up, completely encompassing the eastern walls of Rouen.

My armour was composed of thick clothes, a green, grey and black over-shirt, and leather pants and shoes. Returning to my corps encampment, two men and two women were waiting with their rangers’ uniform in hand.

Heading over, an older man, perhaps in his late thirties with a farmer’s tan came over to me. “Hi, you must also be assigned to the rangers. What’s your name, me it’s Luc?” He extended his hand.

Shaking it, I couldn’t help but notice its strength and the calluses which lined his palms. He was no doubt a farmer. “Is this your first time serving?” I asked.

He nodded. “My village was struck with a plant-eating bug and our crops were inedible. A few other and I had to enlist to make a few coins. The winter will be hard, but we’ll manage if everything goes well. But what is that? He asked pointing to Ligothe.”

I suppose he’d never really gone to the city. “It’s a gargoyle.” Ligothe climbed down my shoulder to get a better look at the man. Screeching, he jumped back up next to my head. I suppose this was how he introduced himself.

“How is a class holder just entering the military? Shouldn’t you be in charge of a group?”

He really was from a village, but I didn’t want to explain how everything functioned.

Thankfully, the captain came to my rescue.

“Listen up! The seven of you have never served. I do not know what’s your conception of military life, but it is certainly not one of pettiness, infighting, and laziness. If any of you display those attributes, you will promptly be kicked out and left to fend for yourself in whatever forest we find ourselves in.

We are rangers, we are scouts, we will encounter enemy reconnaissance and even forward military units. We will try to avoid a fight, but we will have to fight. Do not think because you will not be in the front of the spear wall that this will be easy or safe. Not only will you put your life in risk, but that of the entire army. Now.”

Seven soldiers in ranger’s uniform appeared. Each corps is composed of roughly fifty men. "We are sixty-seven, as such we have seven squad leaders, each commanding nine others. You will be assigned to one group. You will eat with them, sleep with them, and die with them.

That is all.” And with those words, the captain left.

The seven squad leaders were eyeing our group and the first one stepped up. “I am, the first squad’s leader Eric. You do not need to remember our names. Call us simply SQ followed by our squad number. You will similarly be assigned such tags later one. As you have heard everything from the captain, we will proceed with the selection.” He glanced us over one last time. “You with the gargoyle on your shoulder, you’re with me.”

I suppose being picked first was to be expected. Heading over, I stood behind him. He said nothing, simply letting the other squat leaders select their men as well.

Luc was selected fourth, but other than that, nothing of note happened.

We then followed our SQ’s back to our squad’s encampment. There, eight others were roaming about, cooking food, setting up camp, and taking care of their armour. They looked practised. I didn’t know the duke had so many qualified soldiers ready to be called up.

“This will be your tent, everything you need it inside.” The SQ showed me to a grey and black tent. It was already set up and ready for us.

Thanking him, he asked me, “And what’s your name?”

“It’s Gregoire de Gargoyle,” I answered.

“We have things we need to prepare before departure. Get a feel for things, we’ll explain your role and bring you up to speed when we depart.”

#

We left three days later and in another two, we reached the border between the dukedom of Normandie and the county of Main.