laneys.info Beware of Yankees, drunks, and loose women.

The trip from Kecel had taken a week which had passed without event. Lericanin was one of six new recruits to the army though he was the only one who had been sent by the duke himself. Out of the six he was also the youngest and so he was given all of the tasks worthy of the of lowest rank. On the last day of the trip Lericanin watched the wooden walls grow larger as the small band rode closer to his new home. Sentries on the walls called down for the gates to be opened allowing the group to see inside.

The compound was larger than expected with well manicured fields surrounded by painted rocks which marked dirt pathways that led to several smaller buildings inside. The wooden palisade on the south side of the fort began to slowly give way to stone as men worked to construct a more permanent structure. Lericanin took in everything he saw without comment watching several groups of young men and boys practice with various types of weapons including the sword and the bow. 'This won’t be too bad' he thought although a bit too soon.

“Glad you could make it Scrapper.”

Lericanin closed his eyes not believing what was happening. Sergeant Kreyas stepped to the front of the group as another, larger armored individual walked up to confront the group. “What’s going on here? Who gave you permission to enter my garrison?” The mans bellow caught the six new recruits off guard as all of them looked to their escorts for answers. “Someone answer me now!”

No answer was forthcoming forcing the sergeant to order the group to dismount and line up in front of him. As the recruits did so he continued yelling at them sending them scurrying around one another some of them colliding with each other and nearly knocking one another down. Finally the six of them managed something close to a line and waited for the next verbal assault. They stood silent as the sergeant watched and scrutinized their every move. The silence seemed to last forever before the veteran began walking down the line inspecting the young men before him. As he walked he stopped in front of each of the recruits and stared down at them with contempt until he approached the last in line. Lericanin froze as the sergeant stepped nose to nose with him fixing his gaze with his own. “You’re a big one.”

Lericanin said nothing figuring silence was the best policy. “What’s your name boy?”

“Lericanin Averitt sir.” Something made his voice sound funny but he tried his best to speak normally.

“You ever been in combat boy?” The question caught Lericanin off guard. Before he answered he glanced towards Sergeant Kreyas who was watching the inspection with a slight grin on his face. “He’s not going to answer for you! Now, have you ever been in combat?”

Spittle ran down Lericanin’s face as he waited for the sergeant to finish. “Yes sir.” He began to grow angry as he realized that this wasn’t at all what he expected. He knew his grandfather had served in the army of the empire but he never told stories about things like this. It was always about fighting and seeing strange places not getting yelled at and almost wetting your pants. Somehow he managed not to flinch a second time as the sergeant leaned forward to lock gazes again.

Several seconds passed before the veteran began to whisper “I know why you’re here boy and I don’t like it. Watch your step or life around here will be real painful.” The sergeant fixed his eyes on Lericanin’s while shouting to the rest of the recruits, “the rest of you gather your gear and follow Tolliver to the bunkhouse." While still watching Lericanin he said, "You’re his problem now.” The sergeant jerked a thumb to Sergeant Kreyas, spun to his right, and walked away.

Lericanin remained frozen in place attempting to catch his breath without letting on. He failed miserably and Kreyas seemed to enjoy watching the young man collect himself. It wasn’t so much what the man had said but more of how he said it that scared him. Kreyas’ voice snapped him back to reality.

“I said move!”

For the next year Lericanin never came near a weapon while drudging miserably with every menial task that could be laid upon him. Mucking stalls, scrubbing cookpots, latrine duty, anything Sergeant Kreyas demanded of him he did and none of it was ever done right. It had gotten to the point that the work became Lericanin’s escape. He was never allowed to visit the nearby village of Amston, which was only a mile from the garrison. Everyone else came and went almost at will but he was forced to stay in the compound and complete his duties without question. His days had become routine, rising before dawn, he set out Sergeant Kreyas’ armor and boots then proceeded to the kitchens for the sergeant’s breakfast. After breakfast he headed to the task for the day which usually kept him out of Kreyas’ sight for a while. His only real break came on Sundays when it was time for temple. That had become the time where he could have some real time for himself and rest. Initially he had been so tired during the sermons he nearly fell asleep but as time wore on he grew to appreciate what was being said and not just spending the time daydreaming of the outside world. It also gave him time to sit and talk to Father Galayis who had taken Lericanin under his wing during the young mans first weeks at the garrison. The priest of Ahrus had become a guiding force in Lericanin’s life, helping him to find some good in what was becoming a wasted life. His counsel was becoming more and more valuable everyday

Then one day someone new arrived at the fort. Lericanin watched from his pile of cook pots as a mounted individual rode into the garrison with a retinue of six armored men. He wore a polished breastplate covered with the heraldry of Kecel. His helmet was off revealing strong features and short dark hair. Something about him made everyone stop what they were doing and watch him as he surveyed his surroundings. Even the workers, now working on the northeastern tower, stopped what they were doing and stared. It wasn’t long before Captain Patrell came running across the parade ground and stopped at the front of the new arrivals mount. The greetings were brief and unheard as Lericanin struggled to listen to what the two were talking about. Suddenly the mounted knight motioned with his arm and one of his men rode forward and handed a scroll to the captain.

Captain Patrell read quickly, turned to his lieutenant and spoke. Moments later it seemed everyone was shouting as everyone in the compound was ordered to muster on the parade grounds. Lericanin watched as everyone scrambled to their places with their respective units and the civilians all stood in the doorways of the few shops and the kitchen watching, wondering what was going on. When the activity had settled down Captain Patrell and his lieutenants stood at the front of the formation facing each sergeant of the various squads present including the newest recruits from across the duchy. The officer, who remained mounted, scrutinized each person at the front of every unit. Lericanin watched as his gaze swept over the entire formation and suddenly stopped while looking in his direction.

Alarms began signaling in Lericanin’s head before he realized what was happening. He watched as the officer rode his general direction but didn’t think much of it until he heard the stomping of hooves while he leaned over to grab another filthy pot. It was at that point that he realized his brain had been trying to warn him of impending trouble. “You there. Why haven’t you heeded the call to muster?”

Lericanin stood up straight, dropped the pot he had grabbed and fixed his eyes on a pennant flapping gently in the breeze. “Sir, I have been deemed unworthy of the kingdoms service.”

The officer looked him up and down. The labors of the past year had forged a solid physique on a young frame that was larger than any man in the compound including the one who now stood before him. Lericanin continued watching the pennant as it relaxed slightly with a dying wind and suddenly stirred again scaring a few birds that had perched upon he stone wall nearby. After several seconds of scrutiny the knight finally spoke. “One of your size should not be wasted doing women’s work. Who is your sergeant?”

“Kreyas sir.” A spark of hope began to grow.

“What is your name?”

“Lericanin Averitt sir.”

“Averitt you say, from Anderslough?”

In his surprise Lericanin forgot protocol and made eye contact. Deep lines around the eyes and the dark graying hair were evidence of a seasoned warrior who had the look that several of the other veterans in the garrison had as well. As the officers eyes narrowed Lericanin remembered himself and returned his gaze to the pennant now flapping wildly in the wind as a short gust blew over the compound. “Yes sir, from Anderslough.”

“I see it now, the family resemblance. I had the honor of serving with your grandfather Becan Averitt. How is he?”

Surprised, Lericanin could barely get the words out as he watched Captain Patrell approach with Sergeant Kreyas not far behind. “He is well sir.”

“Is there a problem my lord?” Captain Patrell shot a contemptuous glance towards Lericanin as he spoke.

“Yes there is but no need to concern yourself captain.” The knight turned his attention back to Lericanin, “Get yourself cleaned up and report to me when you’ve done so.” Lericanin hesitated while glancing towards the captain and Sergeant Kreyas while calculating the consequences for doing something outside of his normal tasks.

“Lericanin…” after getting the young man’s full attention the officer continued, “that was an order and I expect my orders to be followed. Captain Patrell has been reassigned so he is no longer your commander. Now move soldier!”

Lericanin jumped at the last command and began running to his corner above the tack room in the loft of the stables. As he ran he could hear voices growing louder and he thought about chancing a glance behind him but thought better of it as he saw Father Galayis smile at him and hold up his medallion from the church just high enough for Lericanin to get the message. I guess he does deliver…