Chapter 9

Disclaimer: This is a work in progress as part of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). You are reading the work product of a first draft writing session and not a finished product. Comments are welcome, but bear the first draft nature of the work in mind. Thank you and enjoy!

Start with Chapter 1 here.

It was another week of travel through the woods paralleling the southern road to the capital before they met up with Captain McAffrey and other two platoons of Stag Company. Along the way, the platoon became better at navigating the forest quietly and in addition to what the scouts were able to shoot along the march, Sergeant Verell sent out advance hunting parties an hour or so ahead of their route of march to scare up bigger game. This was all an essential part of how the Legion was to operate when it arrived at the war-torn lands in Verona. They would have to live off the land and make do on their own. They would also have to be able to move through the countryside with as little trace as possible to avoid detection by Imperial scouts and units.

All of that was part of the training on the march, the silent movement through the forest and the trailing scouts from each squad removing as much trace of their passage as possible. They still stopped at the mid-afternoon hour to begin weapons and archery drills. The members of the platoon learned to shoot in unison for maximum shock effect on charging troops and also how to stagger shots individually in their squads to keep a constant rain of arrows flowing towards a target down range. The practiced how to throw their tomahawks and Lissa was enlisted to help teach them the basics of knife throwing though most of their blades were too large to be thrown effectively. A few of them had boot knives that she said could be used as a throwing weapon in a pinch.

Bram taught each of them how to fletch their own arrows on the march. During target practice, several of their arrows broke each time, and if they hadn’t a way to replace them, the platoon would soon run out of good arrows. They were taught to find, and in some cases carve, their steel arrowheads from the trees they used as targets each day. The following day, the Bran would take the bundles of extra arrow stock they all carried and help them select a few shafts for fletching and reattach the heads for fresh arrows. None of them were as good at it as he was, but they became passable at the task that helped them resupply their arrows on the march.

They pushed through the final day’s march and arrived at the company’s main camp on the banks of a swift-flowing river. Theirs was the northern-most recruiting party, and they expected to be the last ones into camp. The other two platoons were already there and were in the midst of an archery drill when Sergeant Verell led them from the woods’ edge. Cori and the others stopped at the edge of the tree line and watched the other Legion recruits firing their bows. She knew that their sergeant was very pleased with his platoon. Their scouts had spotted the sentries from the first platoon set out on their side of the encampment, and Sergeant Verell had snuck up on them himself and ordered them to come with him and not report to their own sergeants. He told them they had been captured by an opposing force.

Their arrival at the tree line was a surprise to the assembled Legionnaires, especially the sergeants and Captain McAffrey. They came over as soon as Verell’s platoon appeared. The captain was all grins, but the other sergeants seemed annoyed at being bested by another platoon member.

“Athelstan, leave it to you to make an entrance,” Captain Archard McAffrey said extending a hand to the sergeant. He was dressed all in buckskins, his green Legionnaire’s cloak flowing out behind him as he walked. His dark hair was pulled back and braided into two tails that hung between his shoulder blades. His belt held a long knife on one side, and when he turned, Cori caught a glimpse of the tomahawk handle peeking from beneath his cloak where it was tucked into his belt at the small of his back.

“Thank you, sir,” Sergeant Verell responded. “I found these stragglers from the other platoons lallygagging around in the woods and thought I’d bring them home.” He motioned over his shoulder, and the sentries were pushed to the front of the group. “Go on back to your sergeants, now boys. No hard feelings.”

Cori watched as Captain McAffrey scanned the line of second platoon recruits brought in by Sergeant Verell until his eyes met hers and his eyes went wide for a moment. She knew at that moment that she had been discovered even though she was sure she had never met the captain before. He immediately took the sergeant by the shoulder and turned him away whispering in his ear. At one point, Sergeant Verell jerked his head around and shot her a startled glance then looked back at his captain. He shook his head and said something she couldn’t make out. The captain nodded, looked her way again and then clapped the sergeant on the shoulder one last time and then turned and addressed the newly arrived Legion recruits.

“I welcome all the new recruits, both lowborn and high,” Captain McAffrey said to them with a bow, his gaze lingering again on Cori for a moment. The other recruits looked at each other, not understanding the unusual form greeting. “I understand all of you have signed your names into the Legion’s ledger and taken the King’s silver crown. That makes you recruits all Legionnaires until the day you die or until you do something that gets you kicked out of the unit. Come in and join the camp and we’ll get you all settled. We can add you all to the official roster, too, once your ledgers are read in.”

“You heard the Captain,” Sergeant Verell said. “Fall in, march order. Let’s join the rest Stag Company.”

———

Once in camp, they were issued additional supplies as Brother Jerald read their names from his ledger and they were copied into the company’s official roster. Each got a new Legion green cloak with a hood and a clasp embossed with the shape of an antlered stag’s head. They also each got a rectangular tarp that, when joined with another’s, could be used as a two-person tent in the field. In the Legion, your tent mate would be awake while you are sleeping, keeping the rule of half of the party stays awake at all times. She was teamed up with Shelby Tozer. The former tavern girl from Gladestown had come a long way since they left the village. She had a natural quickness that lent her unusual ability at the type of hand-to-hand combat for which they trained. She was also had a positive nature that was infectious and her addition to a conversation usually left a smile on your face. Of course she came with her own camp follower, Gil, the tavern boy who had followed her to the recruiting line over a week ago.

Once she had gotten her newly issued items, Cori stepped away looking at the Legionnaire’s cloak. It was dyed multiple shades of green and brown that served to help conceal the legionnaires in the forest. Her fingers stroked the stag’s head pin clasp on the cloak that marked her company affiliation. This was the last piece of the puzzle. Nothing could take this away from her.

“Recruit Cori,” a female voice said behind her.

Cori spun around and saw an auburn haired woman wearing a complete set of mottled green leather hunter’s gear. The hilt of a short sword extended over each shoulder. She wore the silver clasp pin embossed with a stag just like hers but with the green chevron below it that marked her as a sergeant.

Cori stood up straight in her best stance of attention and replied, “Yes, Sergeant.”

“Come with me, recruit. Captain McAffrey would like to see you,” she said.

Cori followed her, feeling a bit of dread. The captain had seemed to recognize her at the edge of the woods but had not said anything else, and it had been nearly two hours since then with no further reaction. She had hoped it had been her imagination. Now she wasn’t so sure. The two of them marched through the encampment. The female sergeant didn’t say a word, nor did she turn back to confirm Cori was following her. She led Cori to a cleared area at the center of the smaller two-person tents that dotted the meadow by the river. There was a larger tent with all four sides rolled up to form a small pavilion. In it was Captain McAffrey, Sergeant Verell and another Sergeant she didn’t know. These must the be three platoon sergeant of Stag Company plus the company commander. This didn’t bode well, Cori thought.

“Lady Westgate, so gracious of you to join us,” Captain McAffrey said as she followed her escort under the shade of the tent. “You’ve caused quite a stir in the province since your disappearance.”

“Captain McAffrey,” Cori said coming to a pose approximating attention as much as she could when carrying a folded cloak and tent tarp. “I went to enlist in the Legion, as is my right as a citizen of the Kingdom of Rhodes past their sixteenth birthday.”

“That may be your right,” he said with a wry smile. “But your little escapade nearly caused your father to suspend the Legion’s mustering so that the border Rangers could look for you instead of forming the core of officers and sergeants for the Legion. Luckily, there’s a war on, and his sense of duty to King and country overcame his fear for his daughter’s safety. He did send out a detailed description of you, and you look enough like your brother that I recognized you instantly.”

He walked around her and looked out from under the tent’s sloped canvas roof at the platoons still practicing archery drills across the meadow. “The question is what to do with you now that you have turned up in my little corner of the Legion. Athelstan says you mustered in with the rest of the group in Gladestown and that you signed your name and took the silver crown like everyone else, so I’m inclined not to send you back to your father right away.” He turned and looked at her, meeting her gaze. “I think I’ll leave that task to your brother when we meet up with the rest of the Legion to the south. I dare say he’ll have a few words for you that I cannot bring myself say to a spoiled noble girl who wants to play at war and not listen to her father and overlord.”

Cori opened her mouth about to utter a torrent of defiant words, but Sergeant Verell caught her eye and shook his head slightly. She snapped her mouth shut, not saying anything. She was furious and given her noble station; she had every right to put him in his place for his words. But, she realized, she was not here in her noble station. She had chosen to relinquish that part of her life to become a simple Legion recruit. They did not shout at their captains. She stood and directed her gaze out of the tent at the platoons practicing in the field.

“You wanted to say something, my Lady?” McAffrey asked her.

“No, Captain,” she replied in a level tone, her voice quavering only slightly.

“A wise move, recruit,” He said. “I will have to send a few messengers from the company to notify your mother in Westgate and your father and brother at the Legion mustering point just north of Rhodes City that you have been located. That is all. You are dismissed for now.”

She stood for a moment until Sergeant Verell nodded his head away from the tent, back the way she had come. She realized she was to leave, and she turned and walked from the Captain’s tent. He had stopped calling her my Lady at the end and called her a recruit. That had to be a good sign, didn’t it? She walked back through the tents to where the second platoon was setting up their part of camp. She found Shelby, who couldn’t set up her half of the tent without Cori.