The next morning found Bomrek heavy and aching. He got up and looked to the dim light from the mine entrance. He managed to put his clothes on the right way around and stumbled outside. A business was already about in the settlement and he headed to find Asen.
“Good morning. Any exact plans for today?” He greeted her when he finally found her instructing some new arrivals.
“You have some nerve getting that drunk yesterday and now ask for instructions.” She was visibly angry with him, then pulled a sheet of paper from her satchel. “Here are your recruits, most of them are already over there.” Her voice showed her disappointment more than Bomrek would have liked so early in the morning.
He went down the list of twelve names. It was a good number, two squads at six each would be able to take care of most duties in and outside the settlement. He found them by the gate, already waiting in a disorderly group. He immediately recognized Rorung from afar by his greying hair and the huge hounds by his side.The two exchanged agreeing nods as Bomrek arrived.
“Hello,” He waited until he had everyone’s attention “I am Bomrek but you will address me as Captain. As you might already know, you are now the new recruits of the settlement guard. Today we will go down the simplest things you will have to do here. For now, l will check attendance and try to remember your names.” He took out the list of names and started reading out the list. The cheese maker and bone carver were among them, a young woman named Kizab and a man named Othob, and all seemed present until Bomrek arrived on the second to last on the list, a man by the name of Imust, who was obviously absent. A quick count convinced Bomrek that indeed only eleven people had shown up for their call.
“Where is this Imust guy, does anyone know him?”
As Bomrek looked into the group, all he saw was shrugging and glances to the side, until one of the settlers spoke up. “I think you dragged him off yesterday.”
Bomrek had to think for a moment who he dragged off until he remembered the drunk troublemaker. “Oh that guy, great. I will get him then.” He returned inside to the improvised drunk tank and saw that his crossbow bolt was still sticking in the floorboards, but someone had obviously thoroughly tested its resilience. He pulled the bolt out and opened the door.
The stench in the room was excruciating and the man – if he could be described such – named Imust lied still on the ground, only slowly reacting to the flood of fresh air and light. Bomrek pulled the boy up by one arm and dragged him outside, where the light off the sun finally coaxed some sounds out of him, mostly groaning.
Back at the group of recruits, Bomrek threw Imust to the ground before the others, where he groaned some more while trying to get back up on two feet
“He is in no condition to march. I will need someone to stay and make sure he is of use to someone when he sobers up. And maybe kick him a bit until then.”
Nobody seemed eager to volunteer and Bomrek had to admit, he knew none of them, save for Rorung at best.
“Rorung, will you do?”
“Aye.” Rorung nodded. “I am not up for marching today anyway.” Rorung quickly dragged the youngster off to sit down somewhere and Bomrek turned back to the recruits. He was about to announce their plans for the day when he heard a lovely voice behind him.
“Good morning, Bomrek.”
He turned around to see a braid of hair golden as a crown pass him by, accompanied by swaying hips and a bright red dress and a white apron. The woman turned around and eyes like sapphires winked at him, before they turned back forward.
“Who was th...” Bomrek was somehow lost in the moment. He wanted not to ask questions, merely to jump up into the air and proclaim with all his voice that YES, IT IS A GOOD MORNING! But his mind remained still like a hare in the sights of a snake. Did she really just talk to him?
The recruits snickered like a class of children. Rorung meanwhile yelled from afar. “Nobody tell him!” And they replied with a loud “AYE!”
“No, I mean it.” Bomrek still tried to make sense of the situation. “Who was that?”
Merely more giggles came from the recruits when one man named Kal, dark hair and roasted tan, stepped forward. “Well captain, maybe a long walk will help clear your head of yesterday’s ale.”
Bomrek nodded. “Aye. Now...” He directed his mind from gold and sapphires and back to the issue at hand: the recruits. He inhaled deeply to swell up his chest with authority. If they were to become proper guards and soldiers, he had to treat them as such. “I am Bomrek, your Captain. You have been entrusted with the safety of this settlement. Your job is a dangerous one, but just like the masons and miners who risk being crushed by rocks, it is necessary. I have decades of experience in running a patrolling guard squad, rest assured, I will make proper, hardened protectors out of you.”
He let his gaze wander from each of their eyes to the next before continuing.
“Ever since the snow melted, we were barely ever in the forest, so the river might have shifted and messed up the known paths. We will do a patrol today to check up on exactly that. I will teach you the basics of this land and I will make sure you do not slack off. Now let us go and I will teach you the most important part: preparing a ration.”
He led the recruits inside to Umel to ask for provisions for the trip. Each of them got some sevenbread and some dried fruit tied into a packet and a waterskin, then they headed back outside and through the outer gates, towards the beginning of the path he and Lushrir had often taken through the forest.
At the forest’s edge, Bomrek stopped to tell the recruits about the most important duties when patrolling, such as taking careful and attentive note of anything off the usual, remembering the route they followed and making reports about anything they saw off the usual, including shifting rivers and deteriorating paths.
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When all of this was done, he led the group of ten into the forest, to check the various routes he so rarely had gotten to these last days. He had the recruits gather long, straight sticks he could use as markers to stake the old path. Most of the path was still easy to be seen, but other parts were muddy or flooded. Luckily, sprig had not yet given the plants enough time to grow over the path. Maybe in the near future, efforts to properly put down rough rocks could be done to aid their travels further into the river plains. The who time, his mind was visited over and over again by those blue eyes and golden braid and finally, a somewhat solid memory.
Kneading. And how good it felt.
At one point, Kal stepped close to him. “Having troubles remembering something?” He said with a mocking grin.
Bomrek decided it was time for the next lesson and stopped. He turned around and saw the recruits waiting for his next words. “We do not yet have any outlook towers, but with the new workforce we received, that might just change. Until then, to get a better overview of the terrain, approaching threats and your general position, you will need to climb the trees. Now I will need a volunteer to demonstrate.”
He did not wait long, lest someone would actually volunteer. Instead, he turned to the grinning Kal. “Well, Kal, you’ve just been volunteered. Get to climbing.”
Kal seemed somewhat surprised. “Ahem, excuse me?”
“Excuse me, Captain, if you will.”
Even more puzzlement appeared on Kal’s face. “Uuhm.. Well, Captain. Uh?”
“Climb a tree before I kick you up there!”
“Yes, Captain”
Kal began to look for a tree to climb frantically. In the forest however, trees did not have very many low branches to accommodate climbers. Still, by hugging and clinging to the rough bark, Kal finally made it up the trunk of a young cedar.
“How’s the view from up there?” Bomrek yelled to him.
“Not much different.” Kal strained his eyes and neck trying to peek above the treetops. “...Captain.”
“Come back down.” Bomrek turned to the rest of the recruits. “As you will be working here outside most of the time, it will be your task to find a tree that reaches above most of the other trees. Nailing a few boards together into a platform will be the first step to at least a provisional watchtower.”
After Kal had let himself drop from the lowest branch, the troop marched on and Bomrek continued to tell them about the tricks and tribulations of walking these riverlands, as well as putting down sticks to mark the route.
They had their rations at noon and it was on the way back, that the blue eyes and golden braid again came back to him. There was a face now, a face he had not seen today. Memories puzzled themselves back together from haze and dream and in the wind, he thought to almost hear a name... nen.
It would not let him go, until Kizab – the young cheese maker – caught up to him on the path to ask him a question: “Say, Captain, will we be doing these patrols every day?”
Bomrek had to take a second look. Only now did he realize how young she looked. She must be barely of age. “No, not every day. I will separate you into two squads and they will alternate each day. While one squad patrols the others will train and keep the peace in the fortress.”
Kizab seemed not happy by that at the least. “Oh, I guess that is fine.” with a droopy face, she let herself fall back again. Bomrek decided he would have to talk to her later, for now, he would have to focus on putting down stakes along the bits of the old treaded path he could find.
The recruits had long begun complaining about sore feet, which Bomrek found almost endearing given his training and the trying times of the last few months. It was a wide and extensive patrol route and surely should be broken down in more sections to ensure a tighter net through which scouts and intruders would not pass as easily, but at the end of the day, Bomrek was glad he had gotten as far as he had. They arrived back in the settlement close to dusk and the recruits immediately slumped down. Rorung was by his hounds, feeding them, when Bomrek spotted him and walked over.
“Good evening, you seem to be doing well. Was Imust of use to someone?”
Rorung nodded. “Aye, Captain, he was hauling things around for the others all day long. How was patrol?”
“Nothing too eventful, but at least I know in what condition the old path is.” Bomrek spotted Kizab slouching off towards one of the tents they had set up as temporary housing for the new arrivals. “I will be back in a moment; I have to talk to Kizab.”
Before Rorung could answer anything, Bomrek had dashed over to Kizab to catch her before the tent’s entrance. “Wait there, Kizab!” He grabbed her shoulder.
“What is it, Captain?” She looked at him with a tired look. She too had complained loudly over numb feet and blisters.
“I want to know how old you are. Because you make the impression on me to be too young to be on your own.”
Annoyance and irritation appeared on her face. “I am twenty-four, I am not a kid, do you understand?” after a moment she added a “Captain.”
Bomrek would not be deterred by a snot-nosed diva. “Did you migrate here with your parents? Where are they?”
“I am my own woman, Captain. I don’t need parents hovering over my shoulder!” She angrily turned around and disappeared into the tent, which was large enough for six cots.
Bomrek sighed. It was too late for this sort of quarrel and he was not looking forward to training a woman barely into adulthood. Not that training women was something difficult; humans insisted on keeping their women from either end of a weapon and even saw them as weaker than men and while it was true that dwarven women had less inclination to risky and self-sacrificial behaviour, they too would pick up arms and defend their homes and families like a mother bear, with fury and strength that did not lack behind that of men.
He was again puzzling what exactly he would have to do about Kizab, when he heard a voice like a golden harp again.
“Evening, Bomrek.”
His heart jumped with excitement as he turned around and again, he looked into blue sapphires crowned by gold. The face without a name was just as it had been in half-remembered dreams: round, bright, rosy and with a cute, flat nos0e above full, red lips.
“Will you come to the fire to sit with us again? The others are already putting on the pot.”
Trying his best to stay calm on the outside, Bomrek tried to sound casual. “What will we be having?”
“Just some stew with all the salted fish we brought.” As the woman spoke – Bomrek guessed her younger than him but already a fully blossomed woman unlike Kizab – her lips seemed to mold every single word with care and compassion.
“Sounds good.” He finally got forth I will be just a moment discussing things with Rorung, then I’ll be right over there.”
“Good, see you then.” The smile she flashed him told him so much. He could not help but let a smile of stupor melt onto his face.
He shook his mind free and returned to Rorung. Bomrek found him smiling like a young boy at his obvious obliviousness. “Please, Rorung, you have to tell me who she is. All I know is that if I were to tell I could not remember last night, she’d think I cherished her not, help me.”
Bomrek could tell that Rorung was barely suppressing a guffawing laughter. “Oh, you seem to be so much braver when drunk, Bomrek.” Rorung put an arm around Bomrek’s shoulder and turned together with him towards the beauty, that was currently at a fire and talking to another woman Bomrek did not know yet. Rorung pointed to her. “I will tell you one thing: You have nothing to be afraid of if you face her with honesty. Now go and have some stew and ale. You deserve it.” Then he gave Bomrek a strong shove and a slap on the back.
He still did not know how to even address the beauty, but still took all his determination and went on towards the fire around which she sat. If rutherers and reachers did not scare him, this woman should not either.
So why did she? Not all battles in this life could be won with weapon and shield, but it were those that Bomrek had always been glad to skip in favour of patrol duty. Not tonight, it seemed.