I’d never gotten close to any of my squad mates, even when playing cards, I’d remained aloof, their names were in my head, but not truly remembered. That helped when I learned that with almost no exceptions, they were all dead.

We had been folded into the infantry, because while weapons and shields were hard to destroy, bows weren’t and were also difficult to produce. That meant a change in my armour as well, scavenged from the belongings of others that hadn’t the chance to put them on before they died. The dead had already begun to rot and taken the armour with them in what I would’ve otherwise characterized as spite.

So now I was wearing a dead man’s armour, slightly tailored to fit, somewhat, wielding a dead man’s weapon, a well maintained short sword with a buckler. The front lines. Have to say, with my luck it was only a matter of time. I shook my head ruefully. Bet I’ll get skewered on my first outing.

[Such a prediction is unfounded, your predilection for harm is completely imagined.]

I smiled tiredly, Greil’s world practically threw one gauntlet of pain after another, I was just glad the night terrors were gone. Then again, I hadn’t been hurt too much in this world, benefit of the doubt and such.

We weren’t in any shape to fight now, we would be reinforcing a second army led by another of the house Taheim. I had no idea how they managed to communicate with one another when the battlefield was so large, but there was definitely some kind of method.

After we joined them our actions began to become more aggressive, pursuing opposing armies and harassing them as long as we could sustain. Most of the time our opponents escaped with slight casualties, and sometimes attempted to lead us into improvised ambushes instead. It was to our commander’s credit that he never fell for them.

Defending oneself with a buckler is a fairly active affair, because it’s really, really small a shield. The captain was relieved when he realized he didn’t need to teach me much to be effective, and damn pleased when he realized Miwse, really Alida, was already a lean combat machine. I ducked sideways as a spear stabbed at my throat, slapping it aside with the buckler as I closed, weaving between an additional two spears from those behind him. I stabbed quickly with my sword, drawing blood but not downing my opponent, before being pressed back yet again.

Frustration welled up, and was quickly crushed down, I couldn’t afford to become impatient or reckless, death is often avoidable. I bashed a few spears away, now no longer a target, Alida made the small rush, just as I stopped a bold enemy from trying the same manoeuvre, snarling as he darted behind his fellows.

I still had an arrow stuck in my greaves, digging through the leather into my skin, I was painfully aware of it as I shifted my feet to block and parry. Suddenly those to my opponent’s left began to break, triggered by a breach far further down the line.

They scattered, but this time we weren’t capable of chasing them down, the infantry was still somewhat winded. The cavalry compensated for us, spectacularly. Our squad leaders told us to rest, and I gladly stretched out my leg, fiddling with the arrow in my greaves as I worked it out of the leather without cutting myself, more than it already had. All superficial wounds, no stitches or cauterization needed for me.

That night I was called to see the infantry commander, which was curious, as there was no reason for it, not to mention Yinea was Alida’s sister. I approached to hear a warm farewell and a female physician exit the tent. She smiled politely at me as she left, I recognized her as one of the physicians that had checked our conditions and decided our placement.

Yinea looked for the most part like her sister, but taller and with harder eyes. I make a show of looking around the room, and I knew she took my measure as I did so. The tent was spartan, partly because when you’re on the march, there’s only so much one can bring along. “I’d heard you were from my village, glowing recommendations all around.” Flattery? Wonder what she wants. I wondered cynically. “But I don’t know you, and nobody just settles there out of the blue…” She watched my face, intent on reading my expressions and movement, I gave her neither.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“Who was that?” I asked, pointing out the tent flap, Yinea tensed for a moment. Suspicious, maybe… She told me she was one of the physicians, who had checked up on us and were giving a report. A casualty count? I suppose that might make sense. Wonder what’s listed.

“Tell me about yourself, Raque said you were a man of learning, how did you end up in that end of nowhere?” She asked, I wondered if Raque had spoken of the other abnormalities as well, and dismissed it, she would have pestered me more otherwise.

“Did Raque ever tell you why he settled down there?” I asked, conveniently attempting to satisfy my curiosity and shift focus off me. She narrowed her eyes, and replied in the negative. She’s very suspicious of me isn’t she?

[Very much so, any conjectures as to why?]

I shrugged inwardly, and as we stood there in somewhat hostile silence I put forth the question I had asked Raque. Why weren’t they accepting female soldiers anymore? She gave me a quizzical look, but obliged.

“It isn’t really commonly spoken of, but this far from the capital, some things trickle in. As you may have figured after whatever Alida told you,” I raised an eyebrow, and she interjected, “You’re asking because of her, aren’t you? As I said, it’s not out of misogyny, though it has made a recent strange resurgence. The main reason as I’m told is because we can’t sustain a war this way.”

I cocked my head, and she continued. “Think about it, if you had an equal amount of males and females, who could you afford to lose?” She began pacing, and I used the interval to scan through the pages before me. “Population growth is based on the number of females in a population, they’re more valuable alive than males are, harsh as that sounds.” A small note leaps out at me, and as she turns I shift it free. “If we continue with war as it we do, our population growth will eventually grind to unsustainable levels, and we’d be doomed even in peace time.

“Make no mistake, either way we have to end this war swiftly, or we’ll be too weakened, we’re just lucky our enemies have the same issues with population as well.” My name crossed Alida’s name as I gave it a cursory glance. Yinea caught me staring at this point. “What a… that’s not for your eyes.” She remarked coldly.

“That’s not your handwriting is it? No, your writing is on the map, this looks like the casualty report writing, the physician then. You tensed when I asked about the her, and omitted friendliness between you.” I paused, and made a small leap of logic. “She was there, in the tent, assigning us, she recognized Alida, you expected Alida to come, she’s your sister after all, and asked her to be reassigned to the archers. If Loran could make it, Alida had no reason not to.” It started to make crude sense.

“You asked for me because you suspect I know, and because I’m the only survivor besides Loran.” It hurt when her silence confirmed the latter. I sighed. “You want to know if you can trust me, and to get Loran and I to make sure she gets home.” She continued in silence, but turned to look me in the eye. “That’s a little selfish, she’s more skilled than all of us.”

“Do you know how many other soldiers in my squad were struck down when our lines broke?” She asked, steel in her voice. “All. Of. Them. It didn’t matter how skilled they were, they died all the same. I’m asking you to watch her, she shouldn’t have come, as the youngest, please.” She added. She still seemed suspicious of me, but also desperate. Are we really going to do this?

[It is not my role to decide a soldier’s objective, I simply facilitate.]

Thanks, that’s very helpful. I snarked back.

“I’ll guess you don’t want her to know about it then.” I said, and when she nodded, I walked out, with no idea how I was going to keep a grief-stricken Yinea from killing me if I failed.

[You’re also considering her talk about female soldiers aren’t you?]

Yes, but I’m not discussing it, not now, more important thing to think about.

[No, a sword cannot go through your body like that without harm, and you can’t immediately reattach your head, you can’t control your body once they’ve separated. I don’t believe that’s a plausible use of a fork.]

Loran greeted me back at camp, “So you talked?” He asked nervously, “She’s really intense isn’t she? I got the feeling that she would ram that sword in unmentionable places if I refused her.” He shuddered. “But it wasn’t anything I wasn’t planning on doing, we’ve lost too many friends.” He said, tone sombre.

I nodded, and we both parted after some short banter.

I omitted that part of the meeting to Alida, simply mentioning how hostile she seemed, compared to what I’d heard. Alida carried the conversation from there. We soon reached the topic of our new direction in war, hounding our opponents.

Our attacks on the enemy seemed to be bearing some fruit, despite how brash or foolhardy it seemed. The opponent we lost to was still out there though, dishing out demoralizing defeats with every engagement they partook. Still we seemed to be pushing them hard, I seriously doubted we would see victory within my lifetime.

Shows what I know I suppose.