thanks Scrabtrapman! i'm glad you like it. its really enjoyable to write, so i'm pleased i have a couple of readers for it.
Chapter 4
The young corporal Jack Tallon was walking towards one of the wooden sentry towers outside of the barracks, when he heard a voice he recognised shout his name. He turned to see the stout sergeant walking towards him from the stone building of the barracks.
“Yes sergeant?”
The Sergeant reached him, breathing heavily. “The captain and sheriff wanna see yeh.” He said, beginning to walk back to the barracks, Jack ran to catch up and walk by his side. “And I aint no messenger boy, alright? Keep to the fucking barracks next time. Dunno what they want with you anyway, you’ll fuck up anything.” The sergeant grumbled, his chainmail jingling and axe tucked into his belt, knocking against his legs.
Jack said nothing. Like he always did.
The sergeant left him at the stone building’s door, and headed to the courtyard of the barracks, where he monitored any new recruits. Jack entered and climbed stone stairs to a corridor where the wooden door to the officers room resided. He knocked and heard a muffled, deep voice from within say; “Enter.”
Jack walked in and saw the two tall men standing over a table looking at a giant map, not saying a word. Jack didn’t like being around these two men; he had heard stories about them that made him feel repulsed and fearful of them. He also knew for sure what had happened to the corporal before him, seeing as the sergeant decided to tell him on his first company inspection as corporal.
Smivey and William were still looking at the map, not saying a word, as if they knew what each other were thinking and had no need for speech. This made Jack nervous, but he did not utter a single word or noise. He simply looked at their clothing, and could see a vast difference.
Smivey wore a chainmail vest with simple, steel pauldrons on his shoulders. His sword was sheathed and he had never seen it drawn. William, however, adorned a grey breastplate with the Monarchy’s symbol engraved into it; a castle that was meant to represent that of which the Monarchy themselves resided in, with their closest and most trusted servants. A black cape was pinned around his neck with a golden broach, and his sword hung from his belt, its scabbard studded with silver.
Finally William turned to him, and said “Now listen corporal, we will not go over this again.”
Jack nodded, hiding his anxiety with a false smile. Smivey began to talk.
“We have two average sized units of outlaws in our town’s vicinity. One is camped out in a wood to the East of here, the other is on the march.” Smivey said sliding his finger over the map in general directions, even though Jack couldn’t see. He turned to him and frowned, “Come over here, boy. You need to know this.” And he focused his attention back on the map.
William looked at Jack, and so he cautiously joined them at the table. The smell of their clothing reached his nostrils as Smivey continued, Jack trying to remain unphased.
“Do you know what these outlaws call themselves, corporal?” Smivey asked, looking up at him from the map.
“Yes sir.” He replied, recalling what the sergeant had told him a few months ago when outlaw attacks on neighbouring towns had been increasing. “The People’s Defenders.”
Smivey cracked a smile, which was rare, and said “Well done, corporal.” Then looking down at the map once more. “We average – and by we, I mean my brother and I – that the other unit of outlaws coming from the West will take at least a day to reach us, assemble and contact the other unit to order the attack. Now we want you to ride to Collern as fast as possible and demand that sheriff Douglas Wentle supply us with a small unit of men, immediately.” Smivey said, then standing up to his full height and looking directly at Jack.
“Now don’t mess this up corporal, this is very important. We
need those men. Tell him that Captain William San here,” He indicated toward his brother without looking at him, who was staring intently at Jack. “Will inform the Monarchy about his recklessness with our valued archers if he does not cooperate. Now you will lead this small band of men to the West of this town and attack the outlaws from behind.” Smivey then leaned in over the table towards jack, putting his hands on the map.
“Don’t fuck this up, corporal.” He said again, with a slight shake of his head. “Do not get spotted, otherwise they will retreat and the scum will be back in greater numbers, all the wiser. We need you - in fact
I need you - to kill the majority of them so that they return to their cave, or wherever they reside, demoralised and exhausted. The captain and the sergeant will take care of the outlaws to the East. So it will only be me and a few guards in the town, and as good as I may seem, I can’t take on a whole unit of outlaws.” He said, his face not suggesting any type of joke or sarcasm.
Jack did not laugh.
At last Smivey broke his gaze and half turned to his brother, still leaning over the table. “Anything else, Wil?”
“Yes. Do this well, and I personally will make sure you are given the respect you deserve for such a feat. Sergeant Smith won’t treat you like a simpleton again.” He then grinned at Jack, thinking many things.
Jack diverted his gaze to the map and said “I won’t let you down, sirs.”
Smivey frowned at his brother and said, without turning towards Jack, “No, you best not.” Smivey then stood up and rubbed his nose casually. “Go then, with haste. Take the fastest horse you can find in the stables.”
“Yes sir.” Jack answered, smiling at the prospect that he could finally leave. He soon dropped it when William smiled back, displaying his brown, almost black, teeth in a wide grin. William continued to smile at Jack as he turned to leave, making him feel uneasy about turning his back on him. He felt relieved once he had shut the door.
As Jack descended the stairs, he hoped captain William San hadn’t taken a liking to him.
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getting a bit twisted, i know.