Breaking Ranks

Grant: Hold the Walls

Three days the Superintendent had spent away from the prying eyes of the populace, before appearing once to whirl his mount around to a few cheers. In other days I would have cheered along with them, and my bellowing voice would have rattled the ramparts. But I had just watched in silence. He was a capable horsemen, I could certainly attest to that. He had kept his seat while weaving through throngs of our routing men, and had outrode his pursuers as well. No one could dispute that.

These days, I barely spoke if I could avoid it. The levy seemed to run itself, such as it was. Women with crossbows patrolled alongside spearmen, the scrawny boy sticking close to the standard bearer, and all keeping their distance from me. I'd said a few words to the Foremen heading the units to our port and starboard but once we'd decided where our responsibilities ended there wasn't much left to say. They'd seemed in as dismal a mood as me.

I wasn't sure if that was reassuring or depressing.

The sounds of approaching footsteps caught my attention, but this wasn't an assault. Striding up from inside Sandstone was the Superintendent's Second, Torstun. He approached with a shuffling band of recruits, men and boys and women too, most with pointed sticks that no more passed for spears than they passed for soldiers. They radiated unenthusiasm. At their head, Torstun looked as stern and insufferable as ever.

It occurred to me for the first time just how similar we were.

"Grant, I have a few more for you. Keep them in line."

I reached forward, grabbing his arm. He raised a lip in disgust and I let my hand fall, talking quietly and earnestly to my old comrade.

"Can I rejoin the unit?"

"Huh! No, of course not. The ingratitude of it all, 'specially given the thieving we caught you doing."

I winced at the memory. He could have at least said it out of earshot of the recruits. "My wife was sick," I muttered. "She needed—"

"She must be, to stick with a sorry sort like you."

He wasn't quite right about that, the wife being gone for days now, but I wasn't about to correct him.

"You're lucky the Superintendent still finds you useful," Torstun continued, the recruits looking clearly uncomfortable at hearing all this. "Just hold your position. Not like your son."

I had been hanging my head at this, uncomfortable with him pointing out the second dumbest decision I'd ever made, beside encouraging Gaspar to join the Guard. But at the mention of him my head snapped right back up and I blinked at his contemptuous gaze.

"Eh? What about him?"

"What about him?" Torstun sneered. "He only started to run when the fighting got heated. Took a spear to the back for his troubles." He turned away and I stared at him blankly.

Part of me wished to rage against him, in anger and denial. My son wouldn't have broken ranks. At least, not until the others had turned first. We'd all ran then, ran or died. But all I felt was the cold emptiness that had snuck its way into my heart and bedded down ever since I'd heard of his death. So I said nothing as Torstun left, staring into nothingness, feeling nothing but the weight of my armor.

And, anyway, what did it really matter when it was all said and done?

What did any of this matter.

"Look!" the boy said, breaking through what little thoughts I had, pointing outward into the distance. Not the siege engines along the nearby hills, the great growing structures of wood and metal. There had been a few shots from them yesterday and the missiles had sailed right overhead and shattered several houses. Since then the machines had been silent, but not all had been completed. But in front of them one of the encircling bands of enemies was hauling something. Several somethings. I squinted.