Steel And Flame (Book 1) (59 page)

The officer passed them, continuing his way down the
trench without taking notice of the mercenaries while Nial, Floroes, Talbot and
several others slid down the slope on unsure footing.

“At last,” exclaimed Dietrik when the others arrived. 
“I was beginning to think you blokes had fallen asleep in the sun.”

“Not a chance around here.  Not without decent beer,
or even a draft of the Tippin’ Tankard’s piss ale.”  Nial sounded disappointed,
whether at the lack of a brew or at the prospect of returning to work, Marik
could not tell.

“I’m hungry enough for army fare, poor as it is. 
Though I think sitting a spell in the tent would do me better than lunch,”
Dietrik replied.

“Let’s go, Dietrik,” Marik tossed over his shoulder
after dropping the mattock’s handle into Talbot’s hand.  “I’m too starved to
wait for you.”

The rest, except for Sloan, expressed similar
attitudes, so the group climbed the earthwork’s slope to retreat from the labor
and the heat.  They passed several camp whores waiting in the wagons’ shade for
the men who would soon call it a day.

Dietrik had explained they were a normal part of army
life, following the larger deployments to set up their own meager campsites
outside the army’s.  The women made rounds inside the encampment, providing a
luxury the men could spend their coin on.

He had teased his younger friend, saying they would be
happy to leave him alone in the tent for awhile.  One look at the women
discouraged any notions Marik might have had in that area.  Theirs was a hard
life, and they showed every bit of it.  Once Marik had asked what happened to
them when the fighting started.  Dietrik had laughed, saying he would never
believe how fast they could disappear until he saw it for himself.

They reached the cook area after retrieving their
eating utensils.  The line moved fast, though Marik wished the soldiers had not
cut down every nearby tree for firewood or building material.  Shade would have
been much appreciated.

When they returned to the Kings’ area, they found
Landon emerging from their tent with his gear in hand while Edwin waited for
him, already loaded down with his own.

“What’s happening?” asked Marik.

Edwin answered.  “Orders came in.  We’re heading on
out on recon duty.”

“We haven’t heard anything about it.”

“Just the two of us.  The colonel told all his
officers and the like to send him their men with woodcraft or tracking skills.”

“Which meant us, most of the Second Squad and a
handful of others from the rest of the Kings,” Landon added while he lashed his
gear together.

“We’ll have some peace tonight then,” joked Kerwin. 
“I’ll be able to catch up on my sleep!”

Landon ignored the ribbing.  Marik moved around him to
sit inside the tent flap in the shade under the canvas roof.  He put down his
water skin and bread, then rested in his lap the bowl of mixed provisions the
camp cooks had the nerve to call stew.

“How long is your tour?”

Edwin resumed.  “Don’t know.  They didn’t say anything
except we’d be going out to take a look at what the Noliers are up to and
reporting back.”

Dietrik jostled Marik on his way past, almost spilling
the balanced bowl.  “Don’t sit in the threshold if you don’t want to be stepped
on, mate,” he commented when Marik shot him a look.

“Anyway, I’d rather be out there than back here with
the rest of you.”

Marik turned back to Edwin.  “I guess too much hard
work is more than your poor old back can handle.”

“Naw, that doesn’t bother me.  But Balfourth decided
to stick in his two coppers when we were leaving the colonel’s command tent.”

“Uh-oh.  I don’t like the sound of that.”

Dietrik added from behind, “And after we managed so
well to avoid his sterling presence during the entire march here.”

“You’re right.  He’s got a thorn in his paw about us.”

“You mean the Ninth?” Marik wanted to know.

“I mean the entire band.”

“What did he say?”

“The general meaning was that we’d better not screw up
again and make him look bad, since he’s the one we’re reporting to out here.”

“What in the hells is that supposed to mean?”

“Apparently,” Landon took over, “he doesn’t like us
very much.  Well, no surprise there, right?”

“We took out that dam, neat as you please,” Marik
stated.  “What delusion is he entertaining?”

Edwin replied, “He’s upset because Fielo’s still
running around causing problems for his daddy.  I guess he decided somewhere
that we were supposed to take down the baron along with his dam and end all of
his family’s problems right there.”

Marik turned to Dietrik and Kerwin, his fellow tent
residents.  “Is this making any sense to you?  First he loses it because we
starting fighting in the middle of the night before the sun could break.  You
remember that?”

“Yes, indeed,” Dietrik said.  “He was furious at the
thought anyone might think he ordered a sneak attack in the dead of night. 
Honor among nobles, or some such.”

“That’s it,” Marik agreed.  “Now he’s mad because we
didn’t
kill Fielo after all?  I don’t get it.”

“Don’t bother trying to see the world through their
eyes,” Landon offered.  “Nobles always have one view of the world for them and
a different view for everyone else.”

“If we had taken down the baron, we’d have been in all
kinds of hot water with the king, right?”

“If it had been in honest combat, I think we would
have been all right, but other than that you have the gist of it.”

“And another thing,” Marik fumed.  “Our contract was
to destroy the dam!  Where in the world did that moron get the idea we were
supposed to kill Fielo?”

“That’s what I meant.  Don’t apply logic to people
like Balfourth.  It doesn’t work.  Simply accept that he is a fool, but one in
a position to cause us trouble.”

“We’ll keep our eyes open,” Kerwin promised.  “Was
that all he had to say?”

“Mostly,” Edwin allowed.  “He said he never would have
wasted gold on us if it had been his decision, and that he couldn’t believe
he’d been stuck with us.”

“
He
can’t believe it?”

“Yeah.  Then he stomped off in that way he does. I
think he thinks it makes a point.  It only makes him look about five years
old.”

“In any case,” Landon interjected.  “We’re going off
with the scout parties, so you’ll have to look after yourselves.  I don’t think
Balfourth will cause trouble.  He doesn’t like us and doesn’t want to be near
us, and if he wanted to cause us extra trouble, he could have already done so.”

“Where are you off to?”  Marik wanted to divert
himself from thinking of That Moron, as he now thought of Dornory’s son.

“Into the Green Reaches.”

“That’s the forest between us and the Tenpencia,
right?”  Marik recalled what facts he knew regarding the forest.

The Forest of Green Reaches was one of the larger
forests in Galemar.  Long, though narrow, it ran along the southern stretches
of the Cliffsdain Mountains.  From the mountains’ southernmost tip it followed
the Tenpencia down to the Hollister Bridge where it ended.  When Marik had
studied the map in the records office, he’d seen that it stretched
approximately a third Galemar’s length from north to south.

Its width varied from place to place, at times
extending from the Tenpencia banks as far as twenty-five miles.  In other spots
it barely reached twelve.  The trees were not bunched together as thickly as in
the Rovasii.  Within the Reaches in many places, the trees thinned and
disappeared entirely, creating hidden meadows of substantial size.  The forest
resembled a cloudbank slowly shredded by the wind, still thick in areas but
thin in others with several holes where the sun shone through.

“Almost all the land the Noliers took is within the
Green Reaches, isn’t that right?”

Edwin nodded.  “It’s nearly a straight shot up to the
mountains and the gold strike.  The forest provides good cover.”

“They wouldn’t need to come inland very far,” Landon
agreed.  “The main supply line for transporting goods to the men and gold back
to their own kingdom probably hugs the river.  All the fighting forces we’ve
encountered so far are most likely to prevent us from reaching the line.”

“Well,” Kerwin said, “why don’t you fellows bring us
back a nice haunch of venison from the forest?”  He raised a now empty bowl. 
“This army swill and hardtack are getting pretty damned old.”

Landon smiled.  “No promises on that, friend.  We need
to get moving.”

Everyone offered farewells when the two left.  Marik
turned his attention to his bowl of limp vegetables and the sliver of meat in
watery gravy, wishing Kerwin had kept his mouth shut.

*        *        *        *        *

A loud thwapping noise outside made Marik force one
eye open.  Dim light filtering around the tent flap suggested the sun still
debated the wisdom of rising so early.

A sharp crack came next, followed by Nial’s shouts
from the next tent over.  “Gods damn it, who is that?  You must be looking for
a thrashing!”

“Get your sorry hide moving and pack up, Nial!  You’d
better be ready to go in a quarter mark!”

Fraser’s voice.  Now what?

The side of Marik’s tent suddenly pounded inward when
Fraser slapped his hand against it, causing the entire structure to shake and
wobble.  He did this several times, creating the flat
thwap
,
thwap
,
thwap
noise Marik had heard a moment earlier.

“You boys too!  Everyone better have their tents
broken down and their gear hitched up in the next fifteen minutes!”

Dietrik rolled over, there being room enough to do so
with Landon’s departure two days before.  “This had better be one bloody bad
dream,” he mumbled into his pack which served secondary duty as a pillow.

“It’s not,” Marik assured him, wishing he could have
agreed with him instead.

Fraser continued his bellowing outside.  Marik crawled
through the flap into the early morning dawn.  The sergeant had reached the
fourth tent in the row.  Further down the tent line, Sergeant Giles could be
seen performing the same service for his unit’s men.

“What’s going on?”

He had meant to get his bearings rather than ask a
serious question.  Fraser heard him.  “I don’t see you breaking down that
whorehouse, Marik!  You’re down to thirteen minutes!”

Marik muttered under his breath as he crawled back
inside.  Dietrik and Kerwin were rolling their bedrolls into tight cylinders. 
With nothing to say, he worked on his own.

Eleven minutes later, he stood where the tent had
been, wrapping its tie lines around the canvas bundle while Kerwin yanked
stakes from the ground.  Dietrik elected to stand guard over the packs and
watch.  The parallel tent row behind theirs disappeared as the First and Second
Units also made ready to leave.

The tents were dismantled in order down the line. 
Nial’s group finished theirs a few moments before Marik’s, while Talbot’s
finished a few moments after.  At the end, the tent with only two residents
exceeded the fifteen minute time limit, uninterested in Fraser’s shouts and
exhortations to hurry the hells up.  Pierce rushed to satisfy the increasingly
apoplectic sergeant while Sloan seemed perfectly willing to go at his own pace.

Finally, with everyone ready, Fraser shouted, “Follow
along!  We’re drawing mounts and heading out!”

The other three units joined them in their march
across the camp to where the army kept its herd.  When they arrived they found
Lieutenant Earnell waiting for them.

“Throw the tents into the wagon over there,” he
ordered, “then go in and choose a mount.  We’re heading north along the supply
base line.  We’ll be riding patrols and guarding them while the army men set up
and fortify.  How many archers do we have?”

About fifteen men called out.

“Good.  You’ll all ride center while the melee men
ride point and drogue.  We’ll arrive tonight as long as we don’t run into
anything.  We leave in a quarter-mark, so be saddled up.”

The quartermaster opened the rail gate leading into
the temporary stables.  One of the first projects upon arriving at the site had
been to rail in the field where the horses would be kept.  Most of the herd
roamed the other side of their acreage this morning, but the handlers had
separated a number, which were currently penned near the entrance gate.

Numerous wagons with canvas coverings were stationed
nearby.  Men inside passed out saddles, blankets and bridles to the Kings. 
Marik accepted a set, then walked to where the horses ate from long troughs. 
He recalled his handling experiences and thought to use his knowledge to find
the best mount.  Walking down the line revealed none significantly different
from the others.  They were all well cared for.