Roland's mind reeled in near-panic. Was that Serafina's village? He tried to count the days since she'd left. Had she gotten home? Was she safe in Klain? The orders didn't speak of anyone being killed. Maybe she was all right, just captured?
He paled. If she were captured, only heaven knew what could happen to her at the hands of those soldiers. The panic was followed by a wave of guilt. Could he have done anything more? He knew there were dangerous people in the area near her village. Should he have turned back to warn them before going to Klain?
He stood frozen in his place as the rest of the soldiers scattered to obey the order to pack up and prepare to leave. Finally, a shove from behind brought him back to himself.
"Are you going to stand there all day or do as you're told?" Ashley moved by him and headed to the small women's barracks, which she occupied alone. He blinked as he pushed back the crippling thoughts and turned to run and prepare to leave... but first...
He ran to the main office. Cringing at the idiocy of disrupting the chain of command in such a significant way, he asked to see the Captain. The guard at the door rolled his eyes and ignored him entirely. Roland thought his next move might get him screamed at or worse, but against his better judgment, he tried again.
"Please! I've just been to a village on that border recently. I've seen the wolves. I might have information that would help with battle plans!" He called this loudly enough to hopefully capture the attention of the commanding officer.
It worked. The door opened and the Captain stared at him with an unreadable expression.
"Come inside, Soldier." He turned away and walked back inside, assuming obedience rather than waiting for it.
Roland followed him and shut the door behind himself. "Please, sir, I--"
"I will lead this conversation. First, you will tell me what you think you know."
Roland paused, considering the man before him. Dr. Sherman considered The General to be trustworthy. It stood to reason that those under his command were more likely to be similar than dissimilar. Good leadership formed people in its likeness. He hoped the General was a good leader, and took a deep breath.
"A small village, on the Southwestern border, near the scrubland. I was there. Soldiers in strange uniforms with their faces covered had captured wolves and seemed to be training them or something. They slaughtered an innocent family for knowing too much. The wolves were unusually aggressive and attacked the village in broad daylight, injuring a young woman, who I came to care for as a doctor's apprentice. I helped her and her two friends, a brother and sister, get to Klain and she became well. She was the young woman that came with Dr. Sherman for the examinations. I think she was heading back home to her village, in a cart with her friends. If she's hurt--"
"No 'ifs', only information. Keep on track." The Captain had very little patience for tangents. "These soldiers, tell me more."
"They carry long javelins like I've never seen, and instead of straight swords, they have wide, curved blades. Their uniforms are pale like sand, and they have head wraps that cover their faces. The leader of the group I saw was named... Darren? No, Dwayne. He personally killed the family."
"Your information aligns with what I have here, including 'look out for two women and a young man with cart, dispatch escort back to Klain if located.'" The Captain read from the pages of intelligence he received with the orders.
"Their names are Serafina, Mayra, and Riley." Added Roland. He was sure that was in the report, but he wanted to press home that he was full of helpful information. He hoped it would gain him inclusion into the planning. "I would be honored to escort them if allowed."
"No, I don't think so," responded the Captain, "You have valuable information and have recently scouted the territory. It would be strategically injudicious to send you away before battle. If we find them, I will send with them our least useful resources. At that point, we would be between them and any danger, making their safety a minor concern."
Roland bit his tongue. The logic was unassailable.
"I will, however, move your platoon to the front line as we march. Though we have an official scout who will take the lead, I desire to have you closer at hand for any further insights that may occur to you. Dismissed."
Great. Roland closed his eyes. He'd just gotten his fellow brand-new trainee-soldiers promoted to possibly the most dangerous place in the standing army. He guessed that otherwise they would have been towards the back, with the soldiers who had almost a year of training behind them taking the lead. What had he done?
___________________________
Riley, Finn, and Mayra walked beside the cart to help give Peach a break. She had walked through most of the night, but stopping in the daylight felt vulnerable. It felt cruel to push the horse onward, but every step was one more between them and danger. One step closer to the help and safety Klain could provide.
The least they could do for their faithful horse was remove their weight from her for a time. Riley held the halter and walked beside the horse. Mayra held his other hand, needing her older brother's comfort and protection in a way she hadn't since their father had died.
Finn walked on Mayra's other side, silently grieving her home and the village they'd grown up in. Mayra reached out and grasped her hand, and Finn gave her a frail smile.
"What do we do if they catch up to us?" Mayra asked. The thought had occurred to her more than once through the dark night, but she hadn't worked up the courage to voice it until now.
"Take Peach, and go as fast as you can. I will buy you any time I'm able." Riley had the sword strapped to his side.
Finn stared at it now. "I haven't asked you about that." She nodded towards the weapon.
"No, indeed you have not." Riley gave her a grin. He had enough energy left in him to make her phrase it as a question before he would tell her.
She sighed. "Riley, would you please tell me about your sword? I haven't seen one in the village before and didn't know you had one."
"It was Father's," Mayra began.
"Excuse me, Mayra. Finn asked me, not you," Riley winked at his sister to take any sting out of his rebuke. "But she's right. This was Father's sword. He almost never talked about it, but he had some sort of life before coming to the village with Mother and settling down. This sword was somehow involved. Though I can't boast any extraordinary skill with it, Father took time to teach me a fair amount before he died. He made it into a game, but I always pretended he was some great hero training me for wonderful things."
Riley reflected on his childhood time with his father. As the eldest, he had the most time of any of his siblings with the man. When he was barely a toddler, he and his father would fence with long sticks. After chores, they spent many an hour together practicing and laughing. Eventually, as he had reached the cusp of manhood, his father had brought out the sword. It had been kept hidden away in a trunk, but his father solemnly told him,
"Every man, at least every real man, should be ready and able to defend the defenseless if he can. From now, you will practice not for fun, but for the goal of making yourself a real man." Riley had nodded and accepted the sword with all the dignity of one being knighted by a great king.
He smiled at the memory, then shook it off to return to the present.
"I'm not completely useless with it, is what I'm saying. I may not do much against a bunch of trained enemy soldiers, but at least I can be a distraction."
Finn's eyes welled. She didn't like thinking about Riley throwing himself at danger to save her and Mayra. It was comforting and terrifying at the same time to know someone was willing to sacrifice their own life for yours.
"I hope it won't come to that, Riley." She said softly.
"Me too," He admitted, "I'd like to be around for a long time." His eyes met Finn's over Mayra's shorter head. They held the echoes of his speech from two nights before. Instead of resurrecting the thoughts, he pulled his hand free from Mayra's to tousle her hair. "Who would harass this one if I weren't here? I'm an essential part of the social ecosystem."
The girls laughed, and Mayra swatted at his hand. They sobered again quickly, but the brief respite from the heavy mood had been needed.
"How long do you think the carrier pigeon takes to get to the city?" Finn wondered aloud. None of them knew. Birds were swift, but did they get distracted? Was it already there, or would it take a day or two to rest on the way? Surely if it was the swiftest form of communication, the pigeons were relatively reliable and efficient. At least, they hoped so.
__________________________
The soldiers marched steadily onward. They had left before noon, moved the rest of the day and into the night before stopping to make camp. Then they arose before the sun and marched onward again.
Roland would protest the extreme pace if he weren't so eager to make sure Finn was safe. He marched between young Peter and Ashley, which surprised him. He was given to understand that female recruits were not typically used in actual combat, but more in support positions. To have her in the front kept her with the platoon, but it also put her in more danger. He wondered if the Captain knew who her father was or not.
Maybe not. She might not want special treatment. Maybe no one besides Dr. Sherman had asked her who her parents were.
"Still glad you volunteered?" He asked lightly. Although conversation wasn't forbidden as they marched, the default had been to move in silence to use all one's energy for movement.
Ashley cut Roland a harsh look, then softened. "Yes, actually. This is much better than being at home."
"How can that be?" Roland asked genuinely. The Provider was rich, and surely all the luxuries of that life made trudging endlessly through the wilderness seem utterly awful.
"You sound like you must have a nice family." She chuckled, "Mine is unbearable. Father wants to ship me off to some foreign land, and so I've given in to part of his wish; I'm out of his sight for the time being. He's always so harsh recently. Any tiny thing can set him off as if he's a tightly strung bow string ready to snap in two. I don't understand."
"What would make him so stressed?" Roland probed. The question was a natural follow up to her statements and she didn't seem to find it unusual.
"I think something about his job, at least that's what he said. 'I'm working for our future,'" She imitated a deeper voice.
"Is the present so bad he can't be content with it?" Roland pressed a little more.
"Apparently. He wants 'more', thinks we can 'do better' or something. Thinks there's power to be had, I guess." She sighed. "All I wanted was to get out of the house now and then, but he kept me fairly well confined. Claimed he couldn't let anything happen to me at all."
"I'm sure he loves you, in his own way."
"Funny, I'm not sure of that at all."