"Sergeant Rofus, Ser," he said, falling in the middle of the rest and saluting crisply before Oliver. He seemed to be an older man, like Northman, though his hair was already peppered with grey, whilst Northman's was still a solid black. "The Commander thought it would be better for you to have a sergeant with you for now," he said, "give you better control of the men and that."
"I appreciate his consideration," Oliver said, perhaps a little too stiffly.
"So," Rofus said, relaxing a little as he leaned against his spear. "Is it true, Ser?"
The other soldiers flinched beside him and a few gave him stinging glares. Those looks made them seem more like gossiping women fighting to keep a secret than fighting men.
"Is what true?" Oliver asked calmly. There were a number of rumours going around about him. Any one of them could have been a candidate.
