The tent with a huge number “1” on its front met him with loud laughs and voices. Robert stood for a moment before entering, observing his future living place. It was quite huge for a construction made of wooden planks and thick grey fabric. The latter didn’t look very optimistic as Rob doubted its waterproof properties. However, no one here looked like an idiots, so maybe that problem was covered. Still, the mere fact of used materials explained few things.
First, Baron might not let them stay for too long in the training center, as this tent couldn’t be used in winter. Robert didn’t know what actual climate this world had, but it was logical to assume a future drop in temperature in colder seasons. Of course, he could be completely wrong in this assumption if the weather didn’t have a noticeable change or locals had an effective way to keep the heat inside. The second thought was about the temporality of accommodation, which confirmed that a big war was near the corner. That definitely forced Baron to greatly increase his army. Only judging by the sheer size of the tent, around two dozen people could fit in it. In addition, Robert saw at least ten of them in training camp.
So, around 200 or maybe even up to 250 future soldiers, not counting personal guards and knights under the Baron’s service. And that is only one baron, who is the lowest noble, while the hierarchy also includes counts, marquis, and dukes. Don’t know the numbers in each category, except 5 dukes, but together it can be noticeable an army… for medieval times.
After stepping into the tent, Robert was met with happy yells, when two huge guys finished their arm-wrestling battle. Both were only slightly smaller than Gregory or the knight, very similar in their bulging muscles and heights, but completely opposite in other things. One was so hairy that even his shoulders were covered with it, making him look like some kind of a humanoid animal with fur. Moreover, that image was strengthened by a bushy beard, which left only his eyes visible. Other was bald, cleanly shaved, covered with deep wrinkles despite middle age, and had dark narrow eyes. It was he, who won the completion and now was looking with some embracement on his own hand.
“New competitor! Final fight before crowning the champion!” someone cheered from the surrounding crowd even before examining Roberts’s appearance.
“Definitely not,” Rob immediately rejected the offer with a smile, “I wouldn’t win even if he was sleeping.” That remark created another laugh when everyone managed to see his physique.
“Holy life, you look like a walking stick! Have you ever done anything with your arms?”
“I would say quite a chewed stick,” pointed someone on his scars across his bare body and face.
“No, I don’t think he physically can jerk off even once with those thin arms,” followed another joke, creating a loud uproar inside a tent.
“Oh, don’t misunderstand anything, dear fellows, all my muscles went there. However, it is indeed hard to handle my monstrous thing with such tiny arms,” not even blinking, Robert proclaimed everything with a serious face, which made everyone laugh again. It took some time to calm down because they couldn’t just stop making fun of someone. After experiencing a similar situation in the past, Robert didn’t take any offense and just followed the flow. The stupidest thing was to oppose the whole squad, with whom he would fight on the battlefield.
“So, what’s your name, Stick? I am Valenzo,” asked a dark-skinned man with two big front teeth, which almost protrude from his narrow jaw. It could make him look funny, but a few horrible scars on his left cheek and some inner coldness covered him with an aura of hidden danger.
“You can call him Beaver,” added the winner of strength completion, making a shy smile, “My name is Paul… Monk.”
“Robert Flop,” mindlessly answered Rob before noticing that no one before him ever mentioned family names, but it was too late. Fortunately, his own one sounded like a ridiculous nickname.
“Oh, I can totally understand why you were called like that, but now you will be Stick,” Valenzo put his heavy hand on Robert’s shoulder, pressing slightly.
“Then don’t break me, please,” Rob smiled back, not avoiding direct gaze. The silent battle lasted for ten seconds before Beaver took away his hand.
“At least you are not fearful, despite your body weakness. How did you end up as a volunteer in the front-line squad?”
“Front-line squad? Didn’t know this,” shook his head Robert in confusion. He indeed was sort of volunteer, but being first to attack didn’t sound good.
“All twenty of us in the first squad are volunteer recruits and would bear more risks during assaults. All others are taken by Baron’s decree from each settlement. Lawrence, Wolf, by the way,” interjected the hairy man, while introducing himself, “However, we will have better chances to replace fallen guards in their ranks, and that is where really money is.”
“And guaranteed sweet future in a peaceful time,” someone added from behind, causing an exciting uproar.
“You see, I am possibly from Posionleaf village, but not sure. After an unfortunate encounter with a wild animal, which left all these marks on me, and a massacre before my eyes, where no one was spared and most of the building burned to ashes, together will all inhabitants, I have very vague memories of everything before that. I do remember my attempt to save children with their mother, but that didn’t end well… Guards found me in the ruins of the house, where I probably hid in the cellar, so they took me here. I even went through the interrogation of Baron’s investigator. However, the sole reason for my fear during that talk was the possible prohibition of my joining to militia. So, I am indeed a volunteer, but there was no search of future career or money in my reasoning,” briefly explained Robert.
“Shit, everyone was murdered? Fucking bastards! They will pay for that!” Wold swore, clenching his fists in an attempt to stop his anger, “I will cut them in pieces...”
“I heard poison plants from the forest nearby are used in medicines… That wasn’t a brainless massacre, but without a doubt an attempt to damage Baron’s forces before full-scale war,” another remark followed from the short-bearded man, who was standing nearby. He had a strange tattoo on his cheek and looked older than everyone else, having half of his hair painted grey.
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“Revenge is a good reason to be here, Stick, especially when you don’t have anything to lose. This goal can keep you alive for much longer just to kill more of your enemies,” Valenzo nodded, before stepping back.
There was a short silence before the other men started to introduce themselves. Unfortunately, it was hard for Robert to remember all of them at once, despite his sincere efforts. Soon, attention to Rob died out, and everyone returned to their own doing – playing dice, speaking on different topics, competing in pushups, and even sleeping. That finally gave Robert the possibility to find the last free bed in the furthest corner of the tent and get some rest. Given that there was no ventilation, that place was the worst, accounting for twenty men inside without access to daily showers. Alas, Rob had no choice at this moment. There were two rows of beds with chests beside each one, so he wasn’t the only one in such a situation. At least the floor was covered with wooden boards, which made their place of state slightly more comfortable.
His neighbor appeared to be another young giant, who was lying with closed eyes. He looked even bigger than Gregory and was around Robert’s age. However, the difference between them didn’t end with just physique. The contrast was much wider, covering almost every aspect. Rob was bald after his black hair burned down, while the young man was blonde with wavy long hair. Rob’s facial features were rude, while his neighbor had noble ones. His slim nose, high forehead, distinctive jawline, and even very smooth skin, as if he was using some creams, differed from Rob’s scarred face by a lot. Moreover, that noble aura included even his clothes, which were from the same material as others used, but were very clean and tidy. Maybe even too clean and tidy for the barrack of future militia.
“Robert,” introduced himself, Rob, placing his butt on the bed. Made from wooden planks and covered with a mattress stuffed with straw, it wasn’t comfortable, but it at least gave some kind of softness and easily won oversleeping on bare ground.
“Don’t bother with him, Stick. We call him Aspen for a reason,” sounded from the side, making Robert turn his head.
“Why?” asked Robert. After a few seconds of thinking, he tried to make a guess:
”Maybe because his hair has almost the same color as leaves… and he is tall as a tree?”
“It is partly true, but the main reason is that trees don’t speak,” Wolf laughed from his own joke, returning to the dice game.
“Oh, I am sorry. Didn’t know that you are mute. I have problems with my memory and am not sure… but is there any sign language? Maybe we can communicate using it? It would definitely help later.”
“I am not mute,” Aspen answered with a barely audible voice, before turning away.
“Then you are either shy like a little girl, or arrogant as fuck,” suggested Robert with a smile, intentionally going for a potential conflict to solve possible problems before they would explode, “in both cases that is quite stupid to do in the squad, when your life would depend on others and cooperation between us.”
“I don’t need the help of others. No one can beat me here,” followed another prideful remark.
“Arrogant then. I see. However, can you beat all of us? Or can you stay awake for days? Or… I can come up with lots of scenarios when you will die without help. Better be on the same wave as others. Even if it is hard, work with it.”
“Start with yourself… Stick,” the last word was almost spat out by Aspen.
“That was an insult? Wait, really? It is even not your creation… Just repeating a nickname about the obvious fact of my thin body that anyone with just one eye can literally see in a moment. Or in your mind does it sound like a horrible curse? Wait, wait, wait. You are acting like a child, who thinks insults about appearance can damage my ego, so I will cry in the corner? Did you ever communicate with anyone… like adults, hm? That can say a word that starts with F without creating any drama about it. Oh, I can see you clenched your fists. Don’t think that if you are turned away from me, then I can’t see you. It doesn’t work that way.”
“What do you want, Robert?” finally showing his face with visible traces of anger, Aspen asked.
“Now you know my name, it’s an honor,” vide grin appeared on Rob’s face before he continued, “You see, I don’t want to be rude, but your arrogant attitude toward others may kill you. The problem is that it can lead to the death of others, including me, and that outcome doesn’t sound good to me. Training hasn’t even started, but you already are trying to oppose your squad mates, in an attempt to distinguish yourself from others. As if you are on another level from others. On the higher one… Later it will lead to more problems. There may be infights between us, where you will try to show off your strength. You already used willpower to stop yourself from immediately hitting me after just a few insults. However, no one will think you are a cool and strong fellow because you can beat someone in a fight, especially someone weak like me. No, everyone will think you are an arrogant prick. Maybe someone will even try to backstab you on the battlefield. Everything will end with unnecessary deaths that I want to avoid because it may hurt me in the end. So, to sum up – either turn off your arrogance and communicate or get the fuck out of this squad! We don’t need to be friends, but anyone must be sure that we can rely on you.”
There was a long silence in a tent by the end of Robert’s speech. The latter didn’t wish for such attention and maybe even went overboard with it, but all the tension from the past several weeks made him snap again, after seeing such a dumb attitude. Rob was physically weak, but only because of his specialization as an operator. On the other hand, he studied enough wars in history to understand possible scenarios. Huge stress on soldiers could easily lead them to alcohol, drugs, and other things, which could help to distract them from reality. But with a possible ban on alcohol in fields, stress could easily transform into hatred and rage, which would explode in rampage.
Aspen might be not the one to break, but it could be easily someone whose ego would be hurt by him. Therefore, it was better to uncover all problems before they went to dangerous levels. Robert had no wish to die from friendly fire or, correctly speaking according to medieval times, a friendly stab in the back.
“So, let’s start from the beginning. My name is Robert, call name Stick,” Rob extended his hand for a handshake. The pause lasted for at least ten seconds, before Aspen sighed, sat on his bed, and finally shook the hand.
“William, but here I am Aspen,” that created a huge uproar with the laugh. Few went even for more shaking hands with unmuted fellows.
“Shit, Robert, you are not a Stick, but a real Mantis. Maybe small, has thin arms and legs, but quite deadly with your tongue,” roared Wolf with a huge smile.
“Mantis or Stick, I don’t care,” Rob shrugged. Earlier he was called Tadpole, while his surname was Flop, so now any nickname couldn’t bother him in the slightest. Children can be cruel after all, especially in military orphanages.
“Have you seen this guy?” Wolf pointed at William, “He is huge, and I bet he can win over Monk in arm-wrestling easily. But here you, weak as a child, went and showed some huge balls, not even blinking when Aspen could literally smash your head in meat paste,” The hairy man was almost overfilled with excitement.
“No, I was just confident that you guys would help me. Strength in quantity.”
“Nah, it would be only your problem if you provoked someone by your own deeds,” straightforwardly disagreed Valenzo. Few nodded in confirmation, and seeing the facial of most men around, Rob shuddered.
“Oh, maybe I am just a lucky idiot,” looking at William's huge fists, Robert demonstratively exhaled, which caused another loud laughter.
“You must be very grateful to Aspen that he has enough composure,” added Wolf with a smirk, “he only lacks the courage to compete with our shy champion Monk… or not?”
William wanted to resent but from every corner of the tent single word “competition” was already sounding and there was no chance to stop it. He exchanged embarrassed glances with Monk before obediently walking to the prepared place of the future battle of strength.
Hope this will increase my chances of survival, and he will not stab me in the back because of this episode…