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  Brunick lifted his left eyebrow, his mouth bloated with milk and porridge which he drank from the bowl rather than shovelling it in with his spoon. Wiping his mouth clean he voiced, ‘you know, you’d actually be doing yourself a favour if you didn’t see patterns to everything all the time.’

  ‘I’ve kept us alive a couple of times by being observant,’ retorted Cid with half a smile.

  ‘Yeah, and I’ve always watched your back while you were dreaming up your little plans,’ said Brunick.

  ‘I wouldn’t dare forget it, my friend,’ said Cid.

  ‘Hey look! The Commander decided to come out of that shell of his. He’s sitting at the head table!’ said Brunick. Cid looked up to his right, seeing Bennam and Piatil seating themselves amongst the men.

  ‘I told you something’s up.’

  Brunick grunted and waved away Cid’s notion, focusing on carefully cracking his boiled eggs.

  Cid almost wanted to admonish Brunick for pigging out like this, but he knew that if a border call-up was imminent it would be the last opportunity for a soldier to eat a well prepared meal. And as a soldier you never knew when you’ll be having your very last meal. It would also implicate that if Cid was to go on active duty any time soon he would not have the chance to sort matters with Elmira’s family. The possibility put him on edge and he finished his porridge in silence.

  Afterwards Cid wandered the barracks alone. He was inclined to go to Commander Bennam directly and ask him straight out whether or not there would be a call-up soon. But then again, if the Commander knew of a possible border threat surely he would have told him last night? Of course Bennam had remarked on Cid and Stelinger’s potential past the border last night, but that was not a hint of a war lurking, was it?

  Either way he felt a bit estranged from the Commander, knowing he had chosen Stelinger over himself, and wasn’t at all up to talking with him right now. Instead he chose to ask around, trying to determine if he had grounds for being worried. Recalling the newly stabled horses this morning Cid queried if anyone knew the whereabouts of the outriders, which the men were quick to answer to.

  On their word Cid ambled to the north of the barracks, where an old windmill was perpetually turning its blades in the feeble Lanston wind to supply the barracks with water. A thick black iron pipeline ran on a low brick foundation from the main building all the way to the windmill. As Cid walked he ran his finger across the surface and felt the burning heat of the metal. Cid knew that it was by deliberate design to build the pipeline out in the sun. It heated the water enough through the course of the day to give the kitchen at least lukewarm water to work with if they did not need to light up the ovens, and then of course it was a small mercy for the more squeamish soldiers who could not stomach a cold shower.

  Sitting on the far side of the windmill’s hollow framework Cid found two men who he at least were acquainted with; Captain Silas and Lieutenant Quint. The windmill’s skeletal frame allowed one to see the slow turns of the blades transfer itself into the churning efforts of the pump, extending all the way into the ground. The mismatched beat of the blades on the wind and the slow moan of the pump played a rather rural melody.

  Coming up on them, he saw the both of them were smoking self-made cigarettes. Cid would rather not ask them what they were smoking; he disliked them enough as it was without having to worry about their vices. The two men often affiliated with Stelinger and were quite reputable for their service under him.

  Stelinger initially made his name as a soldier by running half-genius, half-insane incursions with small companies beyond the border, fighting guerrilla battles to cut the Fallen severely before they could even get close to the Kingdom. Silas and Quint were some of the foremost of those who followed Stelinger and were ever since deemed some of the best outriders due to their knowledge on the Alparack valley.

  Approaching them from behind Cid grew envious of their spot; after many days of riding in the wild they were simply two soldiers who took a breather, and staring into the far as the condensed feedback of the mill ruffled the strip of golden tufts of wild grass with rhythmic sweeps of wind.

  Cid walked around the frame to stand before them.

  ‘Captain… Lieutenant…’ addressed Cid, looking up at them, though did so informally enough to let them know he wasn’t keen on interrupting them.

  ‘Good day Colonel,’ said Silas unalarmed, Quint giving an even more lackadaisical greeting as he saluted half-heartedly whilst taking a deep pull.

  Cid knew better than to make an issue of it. Outriders were simply different; if not born so the job quickly made of them indifferent loners. They spent a lot of time abroad, alone and out fending for themselves. Maybe most disturbing of all was that an outrider was much more likely to be captured by the Fallen, which was considered a fate worse than death.

  ‘I came to enquire on your sightings in the north, are there any movements up in Alparack?’ asked Cid, deciding it best to come to the point.

  Silas killed the embers of his joint on the frame and then tossed the last of the stump away.

  Cid was fast to react, picking up the cigarette and holding it out toward Silas. ‘You should know of better than to toss these into grasses ready to ignite.’

  Unperturbed Silas retorted, ‘I snuffed the embers properly Colonel.’ He said so with conviction, and Cid knew that he was right; he had something else in mind entirely, needing an excuse to pick up the stump.

  ‘As for an account of the north, I’m afraid we are only authorized to report our findings to the Commander, Colonel,’ said Silas.

  ‘Authorized?’ asked Cid, quietly growing angry.

  ‘Take it up with the Commander; we only do as instructed. I’m sure he has his reasons for keeping quiet,’ said Silas, his tone making it clear he wasn’t in the mood to argue about it.

  Cid could not let out his anger on the two men even though he wanted to. Not only because they were outriders, but because the Commander had given him substantial reason up till now to be all the more angry with him. With his rank Cid had come to expect better than being put through mindless drills and left omitted in the wake of new intelligence.

  Leaving the men to their devices Cid felt like giving it a rest. He would simply have to wait until the Commander let his intentions be known. Walking away he still had the stump of the cigarette hidden in his hand, and halfway back to the barracks he lifted it to his nose. Sumertas. The scent was distinct. The plant thrived in arid areas, usually between the rocks, growing where other vegetation could not choke its relatively weak root system. The outriders travelled as light as possible, foregoing the burden of carrying any amount of supplies that would slow them down or was not absolutely necessary. They usually survived from things on hand - hunting and scavenging as they went along. The Sumertas was evidence of that. It was however troubling.

  The plant did not surface for many miles to the north. Silas and Quint had ridden much farther than they normally would and that spelled something out of the ordinary as far as Cid was concerned. Going as far they did was exceptionally dangerous, and they would not have done so unless under strict orders. Cid could not fathom what road Lanston would take in the coming days, but he had an ill feeling that it was something he was not going to like.

  Cid had barely retired to his room when the word came that the Commander was summoning the barracks to the quad. Already feeling miserable Cid reluctantly dressed in his soldier uniform; a forest-green assortment of cloth trousers and jacket, a white linen shirt peeking around his collar. His boots, belt and short necktie were of the deepest black. On the necktie he pinned three thin gold plaques underneath one another, signifying him as a Colonel.

  It was strange dressing up for this formality where Cid already knew the outcome - strange dressing up for Stelinger’s promotion. Nonetheless Cid had to show face and would probably have to sit in and among the other Colonels; close to Stelinger. Taking a deep breath Cid steeled himself for what could only be a bad day.
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br />   The quad stood like a mirror image of the courtyard on the west of the main building, though was not enveloped by wall. The stone floor was laden with simple wooden chairs for the soldiers as the Commander and his right hand, Piatil, took the podium. Cid and the three other Colonels sat at the front while the rest sat behind them according to rank.

  On the edge of the quad efforts had been done to supplant and maintain a young Biridian tree, which would in years to come cast a sizable shadow over the quad. Until then these outdoor assemblies would remain an affair done under a pestering sun.

  Behind the podium five men lined up, their unmoving postures consolidating the Commander’s air of authority. These men were dressed uniformly, their thick brown pocket-riddled trousers and tunics framed by a full-length green coat. Though their hoods were down, they stood with their hands folded in their sleeves as was tradition. They were the magi, Commander Bennam’s personal magicians that is, and Cid always wondered whether they could use their arts to keep themselves cool when dressed up like this. Like their clothing the men’s demeanours were identical; subservient, yet with a dismissive bearing that carried no real intent of insult.

  They all came from one magical school or another, most of them situated in the Kingdom’s capital, Asheva. Cid has worked with some of these men long enough to know that there were far worse types in the world, and given the nature of their enemies, men like these were a necessity. Though their practices were strange, they were in fact trained warriors and did have actual combat experience. Cid could at least relate to that.

  The Commander wasted little time, making his very first announcement that of Stelinger’s ascension. He did not even allow for an air of anticipation and seeing that Cid already knew the outcome he could not help but feel a bit grateful for the Commander’s heads-up the previous night.

  Watching Stelinger stand up from beside him made it real for Cid, churning in discomfort as a man he deeply disliked was given what he coveted. It was much more than just having the status or power of Commander; if Cid could ask Elmira’s father, Vaunce, for his daughter’s hand as the Commander of the Lanston forces, maybe then he would have conceded and approved of their love. That door was closed now.

  All the same Cid applauded politely as Stelinger took the podium, the man shaking the Commander’s hand heartily and recited a well placed speech off the cuff. Cid was unsurprised to find Stelinger relating with the men below; few could fake sincerity and pride the way Stelinger could. They applauded again at the end of Stelinger’s word of thanks and Cid smiled a bit by himself as he pictured Brunick at the back; in all likelihood refusing to clap, sitting with his arms folded, a challenging look on his face.

  Cid considered on how Brunick would have climbed the ranks if he didn’t show such overt opinions all the time. It didn’t help that he was a Mason either and that his military career has always taken a backseat to his brethren’s mysterious meets and rites. He had been in and out of military on occasion, but was always welcomed back given his indomitable presence in combat.

  When Stelinger had retaken his seat the ceremony grew a bit more interesting and Cid watched with intrigue as the other promotions were announced. Cid grew tense as he realized that Alex might also be promoted and that the man might still be on his way back from Ralna. It should have taken Alex only four hours at a commendable pace, but that would have to have been without great pause.

  Worried, Cid made a subtle glance to scout the ranks behind him. Brunick was easy to spot and relief was Cid’s as he saw Alex sitting right next to those broad shoulders.

  He’s back.

  At ease he watched on as privates became lieutenants, some of the Lieutenants making Captain and as old Captain Margo became a new Colonel in Stelinger’s place. Cid applauded vibrantly when Alex was announced as a Lieutenant and felt a twinge of disappointment when he realized that they were done and Brunick had not made Captain.

  Even with all the personal cheer and disappointment around, every murmur and talk was still focused on Stelinger. It was inevitable though; every single soldier’s fate would now be decided by Stelinger’s temperament. Cid knew that this was all in all a rather small formality within the military ranks, as many more official ceremonies and banquets awaited Stelinger once they returned to Lanston. He would be graced, heralded and bestowed trophies by some of the most important people in the Kingdom.

  A city-wide parade for Stelinger, great… I have no stomach for it. Maybe I’ll take Elmira and visit at Alex's parents for that week’s end, thought Cid, thinking fondly of the farm holdings owned by his friend's folks.

  At the end of it all Commander Bennam thanked everyone and concluded proceedings, Cid was barely listening when a sliver of information slipped through: ‘also, after we depart here, I want each of the senior commanding personnel to meet in the war room without delay.’

  They were all about to discover that there would be no city inauguration.

  The war room was an apartment right next to the Commander’s chamber. It was as old as the barracks itself, but had been refurnished grandiosely as it was frequently used for strategy sessions during the border wars. As they settled in the room Cid could only hope that Commander Bennam had some final instructions or wishes he wanted to relay to his top men. The only other possibility for this meet was war itself, a thought that Cid had feared throughout the day and made him stifle a shudder; any imminent war dispatch would guarantee him losing Elmira…

  ‘Thank you for your haste in response,’ said Bennam.

  Dominating most of the room was an unusually large round table, standing waist high and bearing detailed maps right across almost every inch of its surface. The maps concerned the lands surrounding Lanston city and also entailed that of the border. Upon these maps were small neatly constructed clay figurines, representing different portions of the army of Lanston and their enemy; the Fallen.

  The Colonels and Captains stood all around the table, their backs turned to several bookcases laden with old scrolls and war records.

  ‘This is a moment I have never thought I’d live to see, for this is my very final act as a Commander, and it will be an honour to prepare you one last time. Starting tomorrow, Stelinger will take my place and thereby take full authority of my position and military assets. I implore you, to support Stelinger in his new position and respect him as a Commander as you respected me.’

  Bennam sighed, closing his eyes for a bit. Cid shifted uncomfortably on his feet; whatever came now could not be good.

  ‘Now, with formalities behind us I am going to confirm what some of our rumours of late have implied; the Fallen are once again on the move, their intent south-bound, our latest scout reports have validated as much.

  ‘We of course all knew that it would only have been a matter of time. Reports are vague, but they tell us that the main force counts as much as five-thousand Fallen troops proceeding right down Fafriv Canyon.

  ‘Our own force is already summoned from Lanston city; the call-up will be very specific on personnel and equipment. I’ll go through the numbers later, but to make you understand I have to explain something new on the table.’

  Bennam cleared his throat and started, ‘We are well known as the guardians of our border, and for more years than I care to count we have been stalwart in that position. My last, my final contribution, would not have us squander another decade sacrificing men simply to keep the enemy at bay.’

  The men were at full attention, Bennam’s mysterious suggestion making more than one of them uncomfortable.

  ‘In our private meets, Stelinger and myself have talked at length on a new approach for the Lanston army. We have, realistically, discussed an attack extending past our borders into Alparack valley and crushing anything in our way. This plan sees us moving right through the canyon ourselves, protected on both plateaus by supporting satellite companies. Once we secure the northern point of Fafriv we will entrench and ultimately build an outpost that will spread across the entire ent
ry point; our own answer to Nimroth’s gate.’

  Cid stood rigid, his mind working furiously. He and Bennam also discussed such a plan one night and no matter what Bennam offered, Cid always shot the plan down, saying that it reckless, saying that they didn’t know what was waiting for them beyond the border, that the Lanston army did not have the edge that was necessary to achieve such a thing. Is this why I’m not the Commander?

  Yet Cid still felt the same way. He couldn’t believe Bennam would think all of their efforts to be in vain. There was nothing more important than protecting the Kingdom, nothing greater than to simply ensure the safety of loved ones. This was simply ambitious.

  Bennam paused a moment to chuckle, ‘I can see the audacity of the plan taking you by surprise, it’s unlike what we have done I’ll admit - what we’ve always done! But do not worry, when I have explained in full at least half of you might accept the risks of this venture. I have never apologized for being bold and I would not let Lanston decline its greatest moment.

  ‘The Kingdom has never been able to stage a full-scale assault on the Fallen lands, the logistical and numeral parameters has never allowed us to do so without likely losing half our nation’s army even in victory. With this new outpost and the proper supply lines however, we will summon armies from all the cities in the Kingdom,’ said Bennam pointing his stick at the location of the future outpost.

  ‘When assembled, we will amass four army segments and branch out, laying siege to each of the Fallen strongholds and killing them at their roots,’ said Bennam, pointing at the strongholds in quick succession; Garral holdings, Northgarde, Daminen Steadfast and Nokhan.

  ‘In conclusion, we will eventually have the capacity to stop the Fallen once and for all. As you can see our initial move from here up to the canyon and then to each of the strongholds resemble a tree symbolically. Our plight will go down in history, breaking a cycle of bloodshed that has lasted for almost a century. With that in mind we have aptly named this endeavour operation Biridian, in honour of our city’s most prized symbol, as Lanston will lead the way in this war. We started out as the Fallen’s bane, and we will surely finish it that way.’