Snippet #2686462

Infantry Officer Cal Warde cursed, rather loudly, and kicked a bucket. It went flying out off the South Gate battlements and clear over the closest row of ditches and spikes. The wooden bucket shattered on impact sending split wood planks into the next ditch.

"That damn Bearer, I'll show him to order me!"

Angry, Officer Warde looked around as if trying to find something else to kick. His eyes set on a relatively new soldier. "You! Come here!"

The greenhorn was not accustomed to his officer's rage, and shrunk back from fear of being punished. In hopes his officer didn't mean him he looked around him fervently for who he might be talking to. The outstretched arm pointing directly at him and the glaring eyes staring down his soul told him that there was no mistake. Dutifully, he trotted up to his superior and gave a salute. "Y...yes sir?"

"What's your name soldier?" Officer Warde's expression maintained its intensity.

"Symond Leventhorp, sir." The young soldier said proudly.

"Tail him, Symond." Officer Warde said.

Dumbfounded, he just stood there with a blank expression. "U...um, what? Ah, sir?"

"That's an order, soldier! Follow Captain Da... that Bearer, and report his location at all times. You are dismissed."

As Symond ran towards the stairs to comply with his officer's orders, he nearly ran into another young soldier on his way up the stairs.

The soldier stopped in front of Officer Warde and waited to be addressed. He wore a scout's outfit, made of mostly leather it is lighter than what normal soldiers and cavalrymen wear to afford him more speed in his duties. Officer Warde had sent him earlier to scout a group making its way up the road to the South Gate.

"At ease. What do you have for me?" He spoke authoritatively, trying to regain his composure.

"Sir, the approaching company is more Southern Refugees. They have some mercenaries for traveling protection but are otherwise harmless." The scout stood at attention, speaking clearly and with purpose.

"I will be the judge on if they are harmless, soldier. You are dismissed." He looked out to the approaching company of refugees. The Seal Bearer that had come to order him around was Captain Davis Richards. He seemed to think it was appropriate to tell him how to do his job.

"Men, search that company of refugees for the injured and sick. Quarantine them in the Refugee Camp. As for the dead, cut off their heads and burn the bodies." Officer Warde gave the orders easily. Orders like those were common since the March began, but he still felt it odd to hear himself speak them.

"Um, sir. What about that Bearer's or... uh, suggestions?" One of the soldiers asked tentatively.

Infantry Officer Cal Warde spun on his heel and headed toward the stairs to greet the newcomers. "What," he laughed. "To search refugees for anything strange on them? Ha, no. Our enemy is the dead, not the inanimate."