CHAPTER TEN
“Good gods,” Staggen said, wearily, “I’m tired.”
Staggen was half a head shorter than Tovak and broader through the shoulders. He looked to be several decades older, with auburn hair kept in a single, long braid. He had piercing green eyes and a red beard. Lok, on the other hand, was only a few years older than Tovak, with dark eyes and a thick mane of brown hair. His beard reached his belt. He was the same height as Staggen, but of a much leaner build.
“Come on,” Lok said, sounding just as exhausted. He knelt before the makeshift litter they were building. “Let’s finish this. Slide the stakes underneath the poles, about two feet apart, there and there.”
Jodin and Staggen did as instructed. Tovak stood ready and handed over another pair of crude stakes that he’d fashioned from pine limbs, first one to Staggen and the other to Jodin. Once the stakes were in place, Lok and Staggen began securing them with leather straps to the crossbeam. Both worked quickly and with an efficiency that told Tovak they’d done this very thing many times before. They had already constructed one litter and now were finishing the second.
Thegdol had permitted Tovak an hour’s sleep, then kicked him awake. Tovak felt more exhausted, if that was possible, than before. He was still a little dazed from the blow to his head and had a persistent headache. His body felt battered and bruised. Nearly every part of him ached.
Worse, he was dirty, grimy, and covered almost from head to toe in the murinok’s dried blood. It left him feeling sticky and itchy. He felt a desperate need to clean up, but in truth was so tired he almost did not care—almost.
A few feet away, Thegdol and Gorabor had finished butchering the murinok. It had taken them some time, because they had had to first crack the shell and peel back the armored plates to get at the meat inside. That had taken serious effort. They had already loaded the first litter, securing the meat tightly in place with rope, leather straps, and the forage sacks they’d brought with them.
“Is it ready?” Thegdol asked, looking over as he stood. He wiped his hands clean on a rag. “We’re finished here.”
“It is,” Lok said, standing up.
“Let’s get the rest of the meat loaded and secured,” Thegdol said, glancing up at the sky. The last of the suns’ light was shining on the tops of the trees. “I’d like to be back to camp before it’s wholly dark.”
“Agreed,” Staggen said. “No telling what might come out at night to hunt, be it orc, goblin, or wild creature.”
Tovak did not like the sound of that. He shared a glance with Gorabor. The other gave a half-shrug of his shoulders, then reached for the first hunk of meat. They set to work, with Gorabor and Tovak carrying the butchered meat over to the newly made litter. Staggen, Jodin, and Lok busied themselves tying it down. When the job was done, Tovak stood back and stifled a yawn as he surveyed the section’s handiwork.
“Don’t start that now.” Lok slapped Tovak on the shoulder in a playful manner. “You already had your nap. The rest of us weren’t so lucky.”
“I could use another,” Tovak said.
“If you think you’re tired now,” Staggen said, “this ain’t nothin’. Once, I went three days without sleep. You remember the siege at Carin’Holg, don’t you, Thegdol? That was one bastard of a time.”
“Enough talk,” Thegdol said. “Lok and Staggen will take the first litter. Jodin and Gorabor have the second.”
“What about me?” Tovak asked.
“We will take turns,” Thegdol said as he took a drink from his waterskin. He wiped his lips with the back of his arm before continuing. “When someone tires, they will let us know. Until then, we follow along. Understand?”
“Yes, Corporal,” Tovak said.
“All right, children,” Thegdol said, addressing the entire squad. “The terrain ahead is difficult and rough. We set a steady pace and go slow. Watch where you place your feet. I want no turned ankles and I certainly don’t want the litters dropped and the meat ruined. You get tired, you speak up and the next person up will take your place. Questions?” Thegdol paused, glancing around. “No? Let’s go then.”
They set out, with Tovak and Thegdol following. They traveled in silence for a bit. Then, Thegdol reached out an arm and slowed Tovak so they fell a few paces behind the litters.
“Tovak, you are the luckiest son of a bitch I’ve ever known,” Thegdol said quietly. “I don’t know how you managed to take down a nearly full-grown murinok by yourself . . . I really don’t. It was a daft thing to do. You should be dead. You realize that, right?”
“Yes, Corporal,” Tovak said, not quite knowing what else to say.
“Jodin was an idiot for playing such a prank,” Thegdol said, “and you were stupid for deciding to take on a murinok by yourself. If you’d been killed, it would have been on me. The lieutenant would have held me to account. Got that?”
“I’m sorry, Corporal,” Tovak said. “By the time I realized it wasn’t a juvenile, it was too late to back out. I tried skirting around it, but ended up walking right on top of it with a fresh kill.”
“I don’t want excuses,” Thegdol said. “What I want is for it or something like it not to happen again.” Thegdol tapped the side of Tovak’s helmet. “Use your bloody head next time.”
Tovak wanted to say that it had not been his fault, but he knew that was not quite true. Yes, Jodin had played a prank on him, but he’d been somewhat wise to it and had gone along anyway. He had done it to prove himself to the others. He should have been smarter and because of his lapse in judgement had almost died for it.
“You got lucky today,” Thegdol said. “Don’t get comfortable being lucky, because that luck might one day fail you. When that happens, you will end up stone-dead. And you are no good to the company dead.”
“In the future”—Tovak sucked in a long breath—“I will use my head.”
“Let’s hope you do,” Thegdol said. “As it is, the lieutenant will not be too happy with us and there will likely be consequences for you and Jodin.” Thegdol fell silent for several heartbeats. “Do something stupid like this again and I promise you will regret it something fierce. Do we understand one another?”
Tovak’s eyes locked for a moment with Thegdol. The corporal seemed deadly serious. He gave a simple nod. With that, Thegdol increased his pace to catch up with the others. Tovak silently resolved to not let his corporal down again. He would live up to Thegdol’s expectations, even if it killed him doing it.
The sun had set by the time they made it back to the camp. Coming down the hill and emerging from the tree line, Tovak saw that the entire section was back. The smell of roasting meat was on the air and it set his mouth to watering.
“Looks like we have company,” Staggen said and pointed ahead of them towards the camp, thirty yards off.
“I think I see Gulda,” Gorabor blurted excitedly. He and Tovak were carrying the same litter. It was hard work. “That’s her,” Gorabor said.
Tovak looked up and, sure enough, there were four warriors standing before the camp entrance. They were clearly female, wore brown leather armor with green cloaks, and carried bows. He could see more of them inside the camp.
“What are the archers doing here?” Gorabor asked, looking over at the corporal.
“A squad of them were sent up with the carts,” Thegdol said. “The lieutenant mentioned it to me before we began foraging. They’ve been temporarily attached to our section. In fact, each section is getting a squad of archers. Apparently, there is some concern for our safety, what with the warband moving into hostile lands and all. As a result, orders came down from the captain to fold the archers in while we’re out in the field. The lieutenant wasn’t too excited about it.”
Tovak wondered why Benthok wasn’t happy about being reinforced. It seemed to make good sense, but he was too weary and short on breath to ask. Besides, he’d already made a fool out of himself once today with Jodin’s prank. He was unwilling to do so again.
Both s
entries on their side of the encampment waved at them. Thegdol held a hand up in reply as they neared. Two carts were parked by the entrance to the camp. The teska were still hitched, though one of the teamsters was busy unhooking their harnesses for the night.
“Looks like that’s Corporal Hilla, if I’m not mistaken.” Thegdol gestured at one of the archers by the entrance. She was speaking with two of her archers. A moment later, she finished whatever she’d been saying and the three of them walked into the camp. Thegdol glanced around at his section as they drew nearer. “I don’t think I need to mention to anyone not to fool with her or her girls.”
“Aye,” Staggen said, “she’ll gut you and use your balls as sling shot.” Staggen let out a heavy breath. “Though she’s such a beauty, I think I’m inclined to let her try.”
“Friend of yours?” Gorabor asked, half-jokingly.
“She used to be . . . a long time ago.”
“She’s trouble, Staggen,” Thegdol said. “Best leave that in the past, where it belongs.”
“Aye,” Staggen said, “you’re probably right. But sometimes I wonder.”
“Don’t,” Thegdol said. “You know I am right.”
“Playing with fire, Staggen,” Lok said. “But then again, you like to play with fire, don’t you?”
Staggen was silent for a heartbeat. “Sometimes, getting burned is part of the fun.”
“Your funeral then,” Lok said.
“Leave the litters here,” Thegdol said.
They set the litters down next to the carts. Tovak massaged his hands, for they ached from carrying the damn thing. He noticed that Jodin and Gorabor were doing the same.
“Wow,” Dagmar said, coming up. “Your squad took down a murinok? Judging from the amount of meat, it must have been a good-sized one. I thought what Logath’s squad did was impressive, but this . . . .”
Dagmar’s eyes went from the meat to Tovak, his eyes running over the white blood that had long since dried and then back to the meat packed on to the litters.
“Did you use this one as bait, Corporal?” Dagmar asked with a grin.
“Don’t you have something that needs doing?” Thegdol asked Dagmar in a sour tone. “Or do you want me to speak with your corporal and have him find you some work?”
“No, Corporal,” Dagmar said hastily, “that won’t be necessary.”
Dagmar moved off quickly, heading in the direction of the latrine, but not before sparing Tovak another glance. Tovak took a moment to look around. With everyone from the section about, the camp was a hive of activity.
“Smells like krata,” Staggen said. “I could do with some of that.”
“Yeah,” Lok answered and gestured towards the central fire. “One of the other squads must have caught a trapdoor spider. We’re gonna have to watch out for those nasty buggars, then, when we’re out and about.”
“Well,” Staggen said, “at least we’ll be eating good tonight.”
Tovak looked towards the center of camp. Several fires were going. An older Dvergr in simple clothes and a long apron stood there, rotating the handle of a spit by the central fire. Tovak had not seen him before, but he was dressed like the other teamster. Upon the spit was a charred and hairless krata. The teamster was slowly turning the spit, giving it a quarter-turn at a time. Tovak shivered at the sight of the large spider, which was about the size of a big dog.
“Unload the meat, then stack it in the cart. When that’s done, get whatever you require from your packs and go to the stream to wash up,” Thegdol said. “We’re late and I need to report to the lieutenant. He’ll be wanting to know why. Dismissed.”
Jodin glanced sharply at Thegdol, but the corporal did not seem to notice. Thegdol set off into the camp and towards the lieutenant, who was standing on the other side of the central fire, talking to two of the section’s warriors who were standing to attention. Tovak thought it did not appear as if it were a pleasant conversation, for the lieutenant seemed agitated and was leaning forward as he spoke. He jabbed a finger into one of the warrior’s chests. The conversation also seemed very one-sided.
Jodin glanced over at Tovak and his face hardened. Feeling a sudden stab of anger, Tovak met the other’s gaze and held it. The prank had almost cost him his life. Jodin turned away as they began untying the straps and rope from the litters. They worked in silence and it took only a short while to unload and then load the meat into the cart bed with the rest of the section’s bounty. When the job was done, Jodin spared Tovak another sour look before stalking off towards the camp.
“Don’t worry about him,” Gorabor said as Staggen and Lok followed after Jodin. “Thegdol’s not too happy with him and I’m sure the lieutenant will have something to say about it too, after he hears what happened.”
Tovak could only nod. What sort of punishment would the lieutenant mete out for being stupid? And, Tovak knew without a doubt, regardless of the prank, he had acted foolishly. There would be consequences for him as well. Thegdol had confirmed as much.
“Come on,” Gorabor said, his eyes on Gulda. She had clearly been posted to duty on the wall and was standing a few paces away from the sentry, by the bridge. She looked to be around Tovak and Gorabor’s age, with green eyes and a long braid of reddish-blonde hair. Her features were strong, and though she was pretty, Gulda’s gaze, which was fixed upon Gorabor, reminded him of a hawk in search of prey.
“Hi, Gulda,” Gorabor said, almost shyly as they stepped up to the edge of the berm and just below her.
“Gorabor.” She stepped nearer and gave him a veiled smile. There was a glint in her eye, and Tovak realized immediately that Gorabor had not been exaggerating. She was happy to see him, just as he was her. They looked at each other for a long moment and Tovak suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if he were intruding upon something intimate. He started to move away, when Gorabor caught his arm. “Tovak,” Gorabor said. “I’d like to introduce you to Gulda.”
Her gaze flicked to him, going rapidly from foot to helm. Covered in the murinok’s blood, Tovak knew he looked quite the sight. She cocked an amused eyebrow and it was clear she was wondering what had happened to see him in such a state.
“It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Tovak said, offering a slight bow.
“Mine as well,” Gulda said. “Any friend of Gorabor is a friend of mine.”
“Friend?” Tovak asked, looking over at Gorabor. It had been years since he’d had a true friend.
“We’re squad mates,” Gorabor said, “why not friends too?”
Tovak became very still at that. He cleared his throat as Gorabor turned back to Gulda.
“Tovak killed an adult murinok today.” Gorabor thumped Tovak on the back proudly. “All by himself too.”
“A feat worthy of a toast,” Gulda said and seemed genuinely impressed, though there was something mocking about her tone.
Tovak did not feel like toasting his success. In truth, after speaking with Thegdol on the march back, it now felt like he’d failed. “I’d settle for a bath.”
She laughed at that and he found it was a pleasant sound. It had been a long while since a girl laughed at something he said, rather than at his expense.
“You certainly need one.” Her gaze went to Gorabor’s arms, which were coated in dried blood from butchering. She wrinkled her nose. “I think you both could use some bathing.”
“Go on without me, Tovak,” Gorabor said. “She’s gonna have to put up with my stench a little longer. I will catch up with you in a bit.”
Tovak nodded and moved past Gorabor and into the camp. He headed towards where his pack lay, apparently undisturbed. He opened his pack, dug through it, and pulled out a spare tunic, the leather cleaning kit, a small towel, and the whetstone for his sword. He also grabbed his other waterskin, which was full, and drank heavily from it. He took both waterskins and walked out of the camp, past Gorabor, who was still talking with Gulda. So intent were they on each other that neither seemed to notice him as he passed.
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Tovak made his way down to the stream. There were several others already there, though no one he knew. They were either bathing or busily working on their kit. Conversation was in the air, but it was muted and confined to a handful of individuals. The sense he got was that everyone was tired and worn out. It had been a long day.
He took his helmet off and then his armor. Relief was immediate. Tovak stood there for a long moment, enjoying the feeling of not carrying the extra dead weight he’d humped around all day. He took a tentative step and felt light as a feather, though his feet hurt. He was certain he had blisters from the march. Still, it was marvelous, and he savored it for several moments. Then the feeling passed, and the weariness returned. He had work to do before he could relax.
Tovak sat down on a large rock next to the stream. The water gurgled by, making a pleasant, almost relaxing sound as it flowed around the rocks. His armor stank of sweat and worse, smelling quite sour. Heck, Tovak thought, I stink too. He considered cleaning his armor first and then decided against that idea. He knelt at the edge of the stream. The first thing he did was wash his hands, arms, and face. Then, he stripped. Setting his boots aside, he put his abused feet into the stream and almost let out a sigh of relief. Then he began washing the rest of himself clean. It took longer than it should have, for Tovak spent extra time scrubbing. He wanted the blood, dirt, and grime gone, all of it.
The water was cold, frigid even, but the air was warm and it felt good. Once he was clean, he slipped on the fresh tunic and made sure to tuck his Warrant securely into its pocket and out of sight. The clean tunic was a relief in and of itself. Tovak examined his blisters and popped two before turning to his tunic and washing it. He did not have any soap. He would have to ask Sergeant Bahr for some when the section returned to the encampment.
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