Chapitre 83: A lot left unsaid
Redwater
…
Frish sat at the stronghold's gate watching as the serfs under a stone mason's supervision, repaired a portion of the wall that had been damaged last year during the fire.
With nothing better to do, he stared blankly as they went about their tasks.
By his side stood another soldier, his subordinate, who also stared out blankly at the workmen as they toiled tirelessly on the reconstruction of the town.
Although the boredom of guarding the gate was weighing heavily on their minds, they both diligently kept their posts.
"Sergeant Frish, isn't it time for us to switch already, sir?" The private beside Frish asked in a dull voice.
"Have patience Nihs, probably in an hour or so," Frish commented glancing at the sundial a few meters away from him. Indeed it just about an hour till his shift ends.
As one of the 'veterans' who were among the first to be enlisted into the town's garrison, he was by default assigned to be the leader of his new team.
Frish's gaze briefly shot to the sundial once more, he was also impatient to return from this shift but nevertheless, he stood there without leaving his post.
He had to set an example.
Frish knew what happened to sergeants who could not control their teams due to incompetence on their part.
They got demoted and replaced by more competent newcomers.
If he wanted to keep this well sought after position of his, the honour and higher pay that came with it, he knew he needed to keep his men disciplined.
And this can only be achieved if he sets precedence for them to follow.
At least that was the summary of what the young master told them, himself, the staff sergeants and his fellow sergeants included, during one of the 'leadership training' they have to attend every now and then.
This also is one of the perks of being a sergeant. Getting to receive priceless words of wisdom from the Marquess, although it was also arguable is everyone truly valued this privilege.
Hearing his superior's words, the private sighed and fell silent, quietly turning his gaze back to the busy serfs.
Frish and his subordinate kept watching for their remaining hour before they were approached by two other soldiers.
"Good evening, Sergeant Frish." The two greeted with a salute. Their right fist curled above their hearts and their left folded behind their backs at the waist.
"evening, men. Here to take the shifts?" Frish asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Good," Frish replied with a relieved nod. "We will be on our way then."
"Corporal Seide, you are in charge."
"Understood, sir."
Let's go Nihs."
"Yes, sir."
The sergeant wearily walked with Nihs in tow towards the barracks, a half-completed group of buildings north of the stronghold's walls, just a stone's throw from the Redwater's main gate.
Approaching the gates they saw two other soldiers guarding the entrance that was being lit in torches by a passing serf.
"Good evening, sergeant Frish." The two in charge of guarding the barracks respectfully saluted Frish as he walked into the barracks. They were also armed with flintlocks.
"Good evening men," Frish replied with a nod. "Is the Staff sergeant still in?"
"Yes, sir." One of the soldiers replied.
"Ok, thank you."
"No, problem, sir"
Frish walked in along with Nihs and headed into the only fully completed building in the barracks, The administrative building.
Upon entering a candlelit room they performed a military salute to a man seated as he read at a table in front of him.
"Good evening, Staff sergeant Juvenile."
The man glanced at the two before giving a faint nod.
"Are you two here to sign out?" He asked turning his gaze back to the book in his hands.
"Yes, sir."
"Ok." The former knight nodded as he proceeded to pick up a small wooden stamp resting on an ink pad on the table to his left, before pulling out a sheet of paper from a pile beside it and stamping twice.
Although Frish couldn't read yet, he guessed that one of those squiggly things drawn on the piece of paper was his name.
After giving another salute to his superior both Frish and Nihs walked out of the building towards the dormitory.
"Sergeant, what do you think we are having for dinner today?" Private Nihs asked as he walked a step behind. He appeared a hint famished
"I don't know. Mashed potatoes maybe." Frish replied with a shrug.
"But didn't we eat that this morning?"
Frish shrugged again. "That was just a guess, we might not actually have to eat that. Who knows, the chefs aren't actually the most reliable out there, are they?"
"I guess not," Nihs sighed
Arriving at the dorm, they met two one soldier leaning languidly against the wall as he stared out at the fading dusk.
"Sergeant Frish,"
"Sergeant Griule,"
The two regarded each other concisely before moving on, clearly, it appeared they didn't want to get too familiar with one another.
A few steps later Nihs glanced back at the other sergeant before whispering to Frish in a cold tone.
"He is so arrogant, isn't he just a newcomer like me? Just because he was appointed sergeant he thinks he all great and mighty."
Frish glanced at Nihs who was speaking more out of envy than reproach. He raised his hand and levelled it with the private's forehead before giving a good flick.
"Ouch!" Nihs yelped lightly as he rubbed his forehead in pain. "What did I do, sir."
Frish glanced at Nihs' pouting face and shook his head.
"Didn't the young master order respect to one's superior, so what was that about?"
"But, sir, he was being arrogant towards you despite being just a newcomer."
"So, isn't he still your superior?" Frish asked as he looked down at the slightly younger man.
"Yes, sir, but-"
"But what? The fact alone that he is your superior is enough proof of his abilities. Or are you saying the young master who appointed him chose wrong?"
"No, no-"
"Then shut it." Frish cut him off.
"Ok, sir," Nihs replied but it was clear his eyes still held a hint of stubbornness.
Frish sighed internally.
'What's wrong with this person? Even I am not angry, so why should you be? Or is there something I am missing here?"
Unwilling to deal with Nihs shenanigans Frish shook his head and quietly left for their quarters to freshen up.
After an unsurprising meal of mashed potatoes and a few pieces of meat, the sergeant returned to his room to rest.
As he laid down on the sleeping mat he thought back to his young wife who was hopefully still waiting at Greenfields and sighed. He really looked forward to the coming week when he would be recalled back to the town.
He still felt he had a lot left unsaid…
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone