“Banditry. You want to bring banditry into the army.”
“Not…into the army proper. Just the mercenaries. This specific group.” Tullund shrunk back into his chair under Taradira’s gaze. The general had personally summoned him to her tent to have an update on the group under his command, though he didn’t know why.
In the week since receiving the assignment, he had, mostly, won the trust of the company. Demonstrating his skill in archery left a lasting first impression, and he mostly let Rella take care of things on her own, which she apparently did not expect for such a small group.
“I will remind you that you are part of the army, not a mercenary.”
He let out a sigh, straightening up and trying a different approach. “I’m using my knowledge of banditry to suggest a strategy that is similar, General. Give me freedom with this group to go behind enemy lines and disrupt supply chains. I know how to attack a caravan of wagons on a road. These people might not, but it’s what they are best suited for. The leader of the group specialized in throwing knives and her second fights bare handed. These are not front line fighters. The best use you’ll have for them is hanging back and waiting for a chance to harass the flanks. Why not put opportunists in a place with more opportunities?”
Taradira raised an eyebrow, but kept her frown. “You’ve studied.”
“I don’t want to let you down.”
She fell silent for a time, then nodded. “Fine. I’ll have someone draw up orders for you. There will be limitations on exactly how much freedom you have in terms of movement and target selection. I will not be releasing bandits into civilized lands, even during warfare. Now, about-“
A messenger burst into the tent, eyes wide, panting. He gave a quick salute before words came rushing out of his mouth.
“General, a group of ten Hatharen showed up and they say they are looking for you.”
“Hatharen? Ten Hatharen?” She stood up, slowly, and the messenger nodded. “Where are they now?”
“They were stopped at the edge of the camp, but nobody is sure what to do. They are, uh, odd.”
Taradira stepped towards the man, towering over him. “Odd how?”
“They are, well, they are wearing grass for clothes.”
Silence. Taradira stared down at him, then turned to Tullund. “You. Come with me.”
He stood up, running to catch up with her as she left without even waiting for him. “W-why me?”
“You have the most experience with my people out of anyone here, after myself.”
There was a group of ten Hatharen, dressed in clothes made from dried grass, carrying spears and bows. They all stood at least a head above any of the soldiers nearby, though none of them were as tall as Taradira. Ferene’s statement on the general being the tallest she had seen held up.
As Tullund followed Taradira, the general called out to them in a language he didn’t understand. All of them turned to face her at once. One woman stepped forward, unarmed, and approached Taradira. The general said something else.
“Yes, I do. We all do.” She replied.
“Good. It wouldn’t do for me to be the only one you could talk to. Are you the leader?”
“My name is Nehnal, of the sixth circle.”
“I’m Taradira Suladan. From Viventhal. What stronghold are you from?”
“The first circle never told us that.”
“What is…” Taradira trailed off, looking over the group of Hatharen in front of her. She pointed at a nearby soldier. “Sergeant, find some tents for them. Set them up someplace away from everyone else, for today. You, Nenhal, come with me. You as well.” She pointed to Tullund with the last bit. He nodded.
“We went south, since that’s the direction she came from. We didn’t know what to look for, so we asked whoever would talk to us. It was difficult. A lot of humans ran in fear, but we eventually learned of a Hatharen in a small human village. When we found him, he told us to come here.”
“It should not surprise me that Selveren’s daughter has less sense than him, to not even tell you to come to me, but he made up for it.” Taradira smiled.
In Taradira’s tent, Nenhal had, briefly, explained everything she knew about the history of her own people, and then recounted her meeting with Ferene and gathering up anyone curious about the outside world and setting out to explore it.
“So, what do you want to do?” Taradira asked. “I can send you to a stronghold, if you want. Meet the rest of our people. I’m not sure how they will respond to learning about deserters hiding for two thousand years. Your first circle ran away from that life for a reason. There may be consequences of that choice.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“We were born on this side of the mountains. We will stay here. Can we not join your camp here?”
“This is a war camp full of humans, waiting to fight and kill other humans.” Taradira’s voice was hard.
Nenhal, to her credit, did not seem phased. “And why are you here?”
The general laughed. “I’m here to learn how to fight wars. When I’ve decided I know enough, I’ll return to my people with new knowledge. And I’ll put an end to the war your grandparent ran away from.”
“Then we will return there with you, having learned how to fight wars. Where our parents ran away, we will help you end it.”
“Only the men know how to fight?”
“Everyone knows how to use a bow to hunt, but only the men practice fighting each other.”
Taradira looked at Tullund and smiled. He stared at her, his eyes wide. “General.”
“Lieutenant, what are your thoughts?”
“On what, General?” He asked. He did not like where this was going.
“I believe we have another group of volunteers ill-fitted for the front line.”
“General, I’m not sure I would be the best-“
“They ended up here because of Ferene. She isn’t here to deal with them, but she did leave me with you. So you’re going to make something out of her mess.”
Tullund opened his mouth, then shut it. “Yes, General.” He said. Nenhal looked at him, then at Taradira.
“Nenhal, this is Lieutenant Tullund. He was a friend of Ferene’s. He is going to take your and your people and introduce you to some humans who can teach you how to fight. Get along with them, and do what he says.”
“How have you ended up with so many women around you?”
After bringing the Hatharen to his section of the camp and introducing them to Rella and her mercenaries, Tullund found himself subject to Lily’s disapproval. As soon as he showed up, Nenhal standing beside him, she glared daggers at him. “I didn’t ask for it.”
“The orange haired girl, General Taradira herself, Rella, and now a second giant woman. You wanted none of this?”
“You know that none of them are interested in me.”
“Are you interested in any of them?”
“I offered Ferene…something. I asked her to join in me getting away from the life of killing. She turned me down. Harshly. It wasn’t supposed to be intimate, but she took it that way.” Raising an eyebrow, Lily offered him a chance to elaborate, but he didn’t. “The only woman I asked to have around me is you, and I regret that decision every day.”
“I could make having me around more worth it.”
“No.”
Tullund spent the rest of that night sorting out logistics between the two groups. With nearly fifty people occupying camp section two three six, the plot looked mostly populated. With the area designed for a hundred soldiers, Rella’s group only took up a small portion. When the mercenaries saw the Hatharen stake out one small corner, they started to spread out more, while still leaving room for their new comrades to do the same. The newcomers received tents, cookware, and other supplies for free, which thankfully the mercenaries didn’t seem to care about. In fact, one of the men ended up eagerly helping the Hatharen with some of their new tools.
After making sure that both groups were getting along well enough, and everyone knew what to do in case of any disagreements, Tullund retreated for the day.
“You look stressed.” Lily said as he sat down on his cot in their tent.
Letting out a sigh, Tullund rubbed his face. “I am stressed. I did not think that joining the army would end up with me being in charge of mercenaries, much less whatever the Hatharen are.”
“You took a test to become an officer. That means command.”
“I thought I would be in charge of…soldiers. Not even good soldiers. I figured I’d get stuck with a bunch of idiot farmers or something. People I could understand, to some degree. I’m a wilderness criminal turned farmer turned soldier. The mercenaries have more experience than I do, and I have no idea what the Hatharen are thinking at any time. Just because I spent a few days traveling with Ferene I’m supposed to know how to deal with them.”
“That is a lot to deal with. Would you like a massage?”
Lily stood over him, smiling.
“I do, but I worry about accepting one from you.”
She sat down next to him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him away from her. “I’m going to give you one anyway, since you didn’t say no.” He felt her hands on his lower back, pushing lightly with each fingertip just beside his spine, moving upwards. “I know how to do this, you can trust me.”
Closing his eyes, Tullund let her work. His wife had done this for him, long ago. He tried not to think about that.
“You have a good back.”
“What?” Her comment took him by surprise.
“Nice muscles. Your arms, too.” She moved one hand to his bicep. “You know girls like this kind of thing. That’s why you’re surrounded by so many.”
“I told you, they really aren’t interested in me like that.”
“I am.” She whispered, her breath in his ear. Tullund shuddered. “I can do so much more than this to help you with your stress.”
“You said I could trust you.”
“I want you to.” She wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against his back. “I want you to relax around me, trust me to take care of all of your needs. Someone like you must have them.”
“Please stop.” He said, weakly.
“Why?” Her voice sounded even closer than before. Tullund could feel her leaning on him.
“I told you that a woman in my past manipulated me. Don’t do the same.”
She pulled away, her weight on him vanishing before her arms released him. “Are you scared of me?”
Tullund flinched. He had hoped she wouldn’t notice. “I see how you act, how quick you switch from one face to another. I can’t know which one is the real one. I don’t know who you are, but I know what you’ve done. I can’t trust you.”
Walking across the tent, Lily sat down in her own cot. “You think I want to make you my toy. I don’t want that. I told you, I want to make you my protector.”
“I’m your employer. I will look out for you with just that. You don’t need to do anything else.”
She laughed. “We’re both scared of what the other might do. Good night, Tullund.” Rolling over, she faced away from him. He stared at her for a moment, wondering how he had ended up in this situation.