Chương 47: 46 – Outranking

The misty morning had not gotten much warmer as we all gathered on the green outside the bar. We occasionally had festivals here, and Edra would bring every table in the bar outside. We would sing and dance and tell stories and play music till the early hours of the morning. The small wooden stage and the sterile procession of military elites seemed like a perversion of my memories of the lively place.

The general, Uncle Markus, High Bannerman Presken, and several other men in the shiny armor of officers that reminded me of Lieutenant Berkenem, or the more drab leathers of highly placed enlisted, sat in a small wing of chairs flanking the stage. The tableau felt oddly reminiscent of April's High School graduation.

"We thank you, citizens of Tacuria, for your aid in this troubled time," said some lackey responsible for giving speeches the general was too pompous to make himself. The general sat back with a mildly satisfied grin on his face as he looked over the wagons filled to the brim with our harvest. Yes, the contents of these wagons were probably barely half of most people's actual harvest, but that still constituted a significant portion of our work for the year. Just… gone. Poof. Your nation thanks you profusely.

Wham, bam, thank you, insignificant village. I had sweated, itched, and bitched more in the past three weeks than I had in the prior year to harvest those stalks, and now they were just… taken. The nation didn't even have a mail service, and we hadn't seen a patrol in a generation. At least taxes in April's world went to repairing roads and shit. What had the Duchy or the capital ever done for us? I gritted my teeth, as the answer was obvious. They maintained the armies at the rift.

It was hard not to be bitter about the harvest alone, but the speaker was leading up to the draft announcement. He seemed nervous. He'd obviously heard of the contention between the townsfolk and the army this morning. It was no question that the army could subdue this entire town and take whatever they pleased if it came down to that, but it didn't matter much, anyway. There was a conspicuous absence of many of the town's eighteen-to-twenty-five-year-olds in the crowd. I wished I was among them.

Pemolar's Hill knew about the draft, and so it didn't come as much of a surprise when the sycophant began leaning his speech towards the need to close the rift break and assist the general in the war against Eschal. The audience looked subdued, and the weather fit the dreary mood. Hadra and Uraleka stood beside me, watching the proceedings grimly. Part of me wanted to turn to hug Hadra again. Our roles had suddenly reversed. Instead of her going off to face the unknown, it was me being forcibly enlisted.

At least she would be safe. I was certain she felt guilty, but it would've been stupid for her to go to the army instead of to the Duchy. Maybe it was stupid for me, too. Hadn't we done just fine repelling the attack on our own? Two deaths for hundreds, if not thousands, of goblins and trolls? I'd count that a win. There was no escaping it now, though. I let my eyes sweep across the crowd. Even if I hadn't managed to make it out, I hoped Reid… I spotted him almost immediately.

He gave me a sad smile, his Dad behind him. I let loose a breath. I couldn't hear him at this distance, but I understood when he mouthed the words.

"I'm with you." My own Dad appeared behind me without warning and wrapped me in a hug.

"Dad? I thought you were sleeping," I said softly.

"I was until your Uncle stopped by for a visit," he hissed. His lips thinned to an irritated line as Arc Sergeant Floreren continued speaking. He was holding the scythe, and his eyes looked bloodshot and tired.

"Did you see Uncle Markus?" I asked quietly when he approached.

"I did, the bastard," Dad hissed.

"Why are you here, Mera? He told me he warned you. He said you planned to run straight up the road to the rancher's hideaway and skip this whole mess!"

"I tried, Dad," I whispered.

"I didn't… want to. It felt wrong to run. With what Mom said about Maulander, I tried anyway."

"Then why didn't you!?"

"I… had to… they were beating Pretyr, just because he used to be from Eschal. I had…" His ire evaporated like so much dust. He hugged me again, hard.

"Oh my stupid girl."

"It's… gonna be okay, Dad. Uncle seems to have done just fine!" I insisted.

"Your uncle is an idiot! That he happened to rise high is more coincidence and luck than any manner of–!"

"Wonderful!" General Maulander's voice suddenly rang out over the Arc Sergeant, interrupting him – and Dad – as the man stood. He stepped up to the stage and edged the young Sergeant off and behind him, smiling, and feeding off the angry glares of the crowd.

"As has been made apparent by your charming demeanor this fine morning, you likely already know what I am about to say," he said. Someone in the crowd jeered a curse. Burnom. I'd recognize his drunk slur anywhere. It didn't have any actual meaning. Just angry gibberish. The crowd agreed with the sentiment, but if the General was affected, he showed absolutely no sign of it. His need bubble hadn't changed.

He still needed acres of metal, a football stadium filled with ether dust, and a large amount of some sort of bark. All to keep him from being confused.

"This evening, when we leave, we must take with us something precious to you. Tacuria calls for the aid of your sons and daughters. All able-bodied men and women between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five shall proceed to the front and line up here." If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Pemolar's Hill knew about the draft. Knowing and feeling it, as nobody moved, were two very different things. I felt my heart leap into my throat.

A feeling of dread. Money where my mouth was.

'Gods, am I really about to join the army?' Just last night, I'd been overwhelmed by everything Mom had told me, and worried for Hadra. Now it felt like everything had flipped on its head.

"All those above that age who wish to volunteer will not be refused, especially veterans, who will join at their prior ranks, for enlisted. This draft is not voluntary. Your country has called, and all present who fit the criteria will answer." Grumbling. Shuffling of feet. But we began to move. I began to move. I heard the footsteps of others. I saw Reid. Oxana and Teskin. Opia Hunter and the Fishers were both here. Lydet decided to skip, it seemed.

Travmetis, who was actually still twenty-five for just a few more weeks, was nowhere to be found. Pretyr was inside the bar, being tended to by Edra and possibly Normuran. A few people above the age line came, too. Mejoener, a normally stoic and reserved man well into his thirties, walked proudly out to where the general had indicated. When I reached the front of the crowd, I saw a desk and a man seated there that the crowd had hidden. I met Reid's eyes, and he gave me a comforting smile.

There was an impulse to take his hand, but I suspected that would get us separated. I didn't really know what being in the army meant. April certainly hadn't joined her country's military so I couldn't draw any reference from her experience. Did they separate people who were in relationships in Tacuria? I didn't know. I didn't think so. Hadra was a war baby, after all. Both her parents had been in the army when she'd been conceived. I fell in behind Reid as we formed a line before the man seated at the desk.

"Gods be good," I heard a voice. My eyes widened as I turned around.

"D-Dad? What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he said.

"But…!" Was he enlisting?

"What about Mom?"

"Do you think if she didn't have history with the general she wouldn't be right here with us? I won't be leaving you alone, Mera, and don't assume she would either."

"I won't be alone!" I said looking at Reid, who was studiously focused on the line ahead of him.

"Name?" called the bored-looking man at the desk as Mejoener approached.

"Mejoener Baker," he said exuberantly.

"Former Lieutenant. Happy to rejoin."

"Talent Rank?"

"Uncommon!"

"Passive or Active?" The questions continued, while I blinked at the man's enthusiasm. I supposed not everyone was subdued about the draft. Maybe some people were just looking for a chance to get away.

"You there! You look the right age! Did you not hear the command?" A soldier cried out, pointing at a young boy who I knew wasn't talented yet.

"Seventeen!" He called out. The soldier nodded and continued scanning the crowd.

"And you?" came another soldier. It seemed they were unsatisfied with the length of the line.

"Wh-what? Oh, not me!" I heard Hadra's startled voice.

"Girl? Have you your talent?" the soldier barked as he walked through the crowd. I had to rubberneck around my Dad to see the soldier approaching Hadra and Uraleka with disdain.

"Y-yes, but–!"

"Do you think yourself above your friends who've stepped up!?" the soldier called.

"No! Of course not, but–!"

"Then get in line, girl!" he shouted. He looked like he was about to slap her, but Uraleka stepped between the soldier and her daughter.

"If that hand lifts another inch, there will be blood, young man," she said darkly. The man was huge and looked far from intimidated.

"We'll have none of that. This is an order from a General of Tacuria," he said.

"And this one has been spoken for," came a smooth voice as shimmery golden armor split the crowd, stepping between my cowering best friend, her mother, and the soldier.

"Who the hell are you?" the soldier asked. Uraleka and Hadra looked between the two with concern. Uraleka was never flustered, but she kept a wary eye on the guard's spear. The crowd was quickly backing away from the agitated soldier and the armored city guard.

"Next!" Shouted the man at the front after he finished writing down Mejoener's name, and the line shuffled forward, ignoring the commotion in the crowd.

"My name is Captain Retham, of the Denarlan City Guard. And who are you?" Retham asked.

"Hah! A City Guard? Tell me, what brings one of the lordly boot cleaners to a dangerous place like this? There's monsters about in these parts, you know."

"I'm well aware. I'm looking straight at one," the man said, unaffected. The Lancer snarled, and a light burst on the edge of his long spear as he leveled it at the guard. Captain Retham moved first. A quick strike at the man's throat made the light from the spear tip gutter and fail. Whatever skill or talent he'd been about to use died as the man choked, grasping his neck.

"What is going on back here!?" Came a sudden bark, and I blinked as I watched the general stride past the line and straight up to the guard captain.

"General Maulander," the guard captain said, squaring his shoulders.

"Lieutenant Retham," the general replied.

"Certainly not where I would expect to find you."

"It's Captain Retham now, sir," the guard captain replied.

"Indeed?" Maulander asked.

"You would've made a much better soldier, but it is well to see you rising so quickly." I supposed these two knew each other, though I had no idea how a guard captain and a general might've met. I suppose the general had to visit Denarla and Tacuria sometimes. The Lancer was still choking, but his eyes grew wide with horror as he watched the general and the guard converse. A particularly loud cough drew the general's attention back to him, before addressing the Captain once more.

"My man's question was valid, though. What brings a Denarlan City Guard, a captain nonetheless, to a place like this?"

"My orders to bring young Miss Ilhadira there away from this dangerous place and on to Denarla," he said. He focused on the girl and frowned.

"Ah. The elite talent. Of course, the Duchess wants her baubles kept safe and warm."

"I… I'm not a bauble!" Hadra shouted. The general's eyes widened.

"Aren't you? Your friends and family have bravely answered their nation's call while you cower here in the crowd. Even if your talent is just a peasant thing, the skills you might gain with us would be invaluable to you as you grow older."

"I can't allow that," Guard Captain Retham said.

"You couldn't stop it if the girl chooses to join," the general replied. Retham looked around. He was alone here and hadn't even brought the rest of his own patrol. He obviously couldn't stop the general from taking Hadra if he pushed the issue. He inclined his head.

"As you say, but the Duchess will not be pleased." Maulander frowned before turning back to Hadra.

"Aye. Well, no matter. If you prefer to abandon your friends while you scurry up to the north, that is not my problem. May you live with that guilt when you hear of the deaths of friends you might've saved, girl." Hadra winced, as if she'd been kicked, but the General turned and walked back toward the stage with a half-hearted shrug. I felt sick to my stomach. My first impression of the army had been my Uncle, and just a few weeks ago, that had been reinforced by Lieutenant Berkenem. Good men. Good soldiers.

People who deserved respect. People fighting every day to make sure we were safe. Berkenem had been what I'd thought soldiers were supposed to be. He'd apologized for letting a single troll slip through. Even with everything Mom had said, at its core, I'd assumed that this army was the same. That impression had cracked with the lynch mob, but I'd chalked that up to just a few bad eggs. At least the High Bannermen seemed alright. The general was breaking it entirely with this petty display.

This was a different branch of the same army… yet somehow it was not the same at all. Hadra looked between the captain and her mother, gritting her teeth with rage at the general's back. I could sense what he was doing. He seemed to be trying to guilt trip her into joining. I didn't care what my uncle said about the man. He knew the value of an elite talent. Something about this entire interaction felt staged, though I thought Captain Retham's intervention might've surprised him.

Hadra began to take a step toward the line, only to be grabbed firmly by her mother. She glared back at the woman, a strange mirror to their usual fights as she struggled with her mother's iron-clad grip.

"Haddy! Don't you dare get in this line!" I shouted. I might have made a huge mistake here, but the least I could do was make sure Ilhadira didn't join me in it.

"You've been called into the Duchess's service. It's an honor. Don't let him make you think you don't deserve it!" Her eyes snapped to me, fury coloring her features as she called me a hypocrite without ever saying a word. I glared her down. She knew I was right. Even if I was a hypocrite. She backed down, and I watched Uraleka and Retham visibly relax. I turned back to the front of the line, only to wilt as I saw eyes made of ice focused directly on me. The general was not pleased.