Glyph

Chapter 13

At his camp, there were 12 companies. Each had its own block of tents, with a small parade ground for all the troops in the company to assemble on. In each company there were 24 squads, each with it's own designated block of four tents arranged around a central fire pit, each sleeping three and one for the sergeant's private use.

Dirk now sat on a log by the edge of said fire watching the flames dance. It had been four weeks since his draft and his whole life had become a schedule. Wake up at sunrise, practice marching with the company, breakfast, combat drills, lunch.

After lunch was, thankfully, officers choice which he usually used as he was now, although occasionally he visited Aderyn or Surd, when they were not too busy. Then it was private combat practice, an archery lesson with Snips, the the archery instructor of the squad, then dinner.

After dinner, more combat drills, although on Saturday it was battle practice, which meant they stuck two companies on a field with wooden equipment and let them batter each other. After that was an overview of the day with Sergeant Bridds, then he studied glyphs and history in his tent by candlelight before he went to bed and started it all over again.

He also used the last hour or so before curfew to inscribe new runes onto his skin with the special ink which was supplied throughout the army to any glyphwardens.

How could things have spiraled so fast, he thought. One second, he was sitting in Surd's tailor shop, the next he was in the rebel army as a corporal.

As he sat, one of the soldiers in his squad came up to him. Dirk tensed then relaxed when he saw the newcomer's face. He had thought it was Bridds coming to give him some order which he had really not wanted right then, despite the fact he was nearly bored out of his mind. 

Aderyn had been busy that afternoon, as he usually was. Being a weapons master in time of war extended his duties to bodyguard of Lord Gilthas. He was however able to spend some time with him and they had become closer than ever as Dirk talked about the hardships of army life and Aderyn about the annoyances of minor nobles constantly asking for an audience.

Dirk had been complaining about a man in his squad, Brul, being unable to grasp the concept of having food in his mouth, when a sudden thought had struck him.

"Hey," he asked. "Weren't we not supposed to go to war unless the Council voted on it? When did that happen?"

Aderyn looked at him. "The night before drafts were received. Gilthas had the officers work overnight to finish them in the quickest time possible. He had to fill the ranks with all the new recruits so he could send as many of the regulars as possible to defend Chestley. Most of the East Brigade is gone and half the South, as well. I looked everywhere for you that evening but I couldn't find you."

Comprehension dawned on Dirk. "Oh.... I had taken a nap in the gardens. I didn't wake up until night fell."

Aderyn looked at him, grinning. "What?," Dirk demanded.

"A nap in the gardens? What are you, a girl?"

At which point Dirk socked him in the arm.

Surd, too, did not have any time to spend. When the declaration of war was issued, his trustworthiness and past experience had earned him a place as lieutenant of the First Company in the North Brigade.

The captain of the Third Company was a man named Aetil, his lieutenant was Lieutenant Seral, the man who had written Dirk's draft letter.

As he sat, Cordan came and sat across from him. Cordan was possibly the only one in the entire squad Dirk got along with. He had done his best, really he had, but grown men seemed to have a hard time taking orders from a teenager. Cordan however, had readily accepted orders from Dirk from the beginning. This probably had something to do with the fact that he was only two seasons older than Dirk, as well as his bunkmate. The other soldier in their tent was a middle-aged man who really liked complaining. They would hear him well into the night grumbling about the many inadequacies of the day.