For the first time since boot camp Bertrand was woken up involuntarily, normally skirmishers were allowed to sleep through the morning lineup as they belonged to an entirely different caste of soldier.

Plus officers didn't really like the idea of sleep deprived scouts trying to find ambushes.

So it came as a bet of a surprise when Francois nudged him awake and told him to get up. “Wha?” he murmured groggily in protest.

But it was no use, as Francois kicked him in the side, not hard but not exactly gently either.

That was enough to wake him up properly.

He slipped out of his bedroll, glaring at Francois while rubbing at his side, but the man was already leaving, not even looking back.

Aggrieved Bertrand slips on his boots, slings his beamer over his shoulder and then stuffs a few pieces of jerky in his pocket.

Then he headed out of the tent to see what all the fuss was about.

Getting out just in time to see Francois enter the tent next to theirs, looked like he was filling in for a runner.

Or maybe he was a runner, Bertrand wasn't quite sure how one became a runner but they did know that to be one you had to serve for a while as a soldier first.

Still sleepy and pretty confused about where to go, Bertrand just gives in to his herd instincts and follows the shabby line of people walking to the north side of the town.

The sections of town had been divided into the housing section, supply section, fallback and command section and finally the horse's section, where all the animals were kept.

There was also a fifth section sorta, in the form of the town centre which was now occupied by the barn tent and some cooking pots instead of the broken market stalls that had previously stood there.

Bertrand was actually a little confused as to why they even had market stalls, the town must have housed around five hundred people at most judging by the houses and infrastructure. With such small numbers wouldn't it be easier for them to take orders and then go from house to house?

But he was no merchant so who knows, maybe this was actually more effective. One advantage is that it would make it easier for travellers he guessed.

Walking into the town centre alongside the small crowd, he found the linemen already standing in tidy columns, lining up before the officers who had stacked a number of tables on top of each other.

Forming a rather unsteady pyramid that they stood atop.

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It was a bit stuffy, three thousand and five hundred soldiers standing close together tended to heat up the place.

It was meant to be four thousand for a legion but that was rarely ever the case. In fact three thousand and five hundred was exceptionally high for a legion.

Paper strength tended to be off by about twenty to thirty percent so they actually were rather lucky, they must have been missing only fifteen percent, considering they had lost something like a hundred men and had another hundred spread out on guard duty.

So three thousand seven hundred in total, quite hefty numbers, especially compared to other legions.

It created some issues with logistics of course, but the logistics officers had learnt long ago to play things more by ear rather than pen.

“Soilders!” Yelled out the officer in the centre of the table pyramid.

She paused briefly, to let the massed troops focus on her as well as to check her watch.“Approximately two hours and twenty three minutes ago we received a report, the seventh legion has been destroyed. Our new orders are to maintain our position and wait for the twentieth and third legion to reinforce us.”

Bertrand tried to ignore the dread rising up from within his chest by focusing on the fact that the third legion would be their reinforcements.

The third legion was an absolute powerhouse, they had served throughout most of the revolution under Napoleons command.

While their legion only had a few dozen bone buttoned soldiers theirs had hundreds.

It was a legion of the best of the best, reserved only for the direst of circumstances…

Oh Seer, what had happened for them to be dispatched?

They wouldn't have been sent to reinforce them if the seventh legion had only been destroyed, they would have been sent because the seventh legion had been annihilated.

“We will be on high alert until the twentieth and third legion arrive to relieve us. No travling outside these walls is permitted, stay indoors and remain cautious of everyone, you must stay together in groups. Even if its for something as simple as going to the toilet.”

These restricting rules of her’s created quite a bit of disconsent as a rumble of curses and sighs sounded out from all across the town centre.

Ignoring them though she continued.”It has been confirmed by the remnants of the seventh legion just before they got, killed, that there were infiltrators amongst them, zombies capable of shifting their features to match the soldiers.”

Seer, how had the initial reports been so wrong?

This was never something two legions could deal with.

“Already we have had some reports of these creatures being near us, they were encountered by one of the task teams sent in to investigate our surroundings when we first encountered the commander type zombie. They appear capable of shifting their body mass, forming claws and talons in mere minutes and only requiring a further ten for the more advanced shapeshifting.”

Bertrand didn't even want to know how the task team had figured this out.

“Holy Seer preserve us.” Bertrand barely heard over the depressed sighs and shocked gasps.

The officer spoke for a while longer, but nothing else they said was truly that important, it was just the standard for Francia and honour conversation.

It was somewhat comforting though, it reminded him of his instructors back at the training camp, hard arses they may have been but Seer did they have some good anecdotes.

It was obviously biassed but he felt like their monologues were more inspiring than hers.

Mostly because there wasn't the threat of subterfuge and death hanging over his head back then.