Glyph

Chapter 27

Dirk was on watchman duty again. 

The building of the outpost had taken the rest of the day. No other squads arrived to aid them; Dirk assumed they had gone back down to camp. 

Durkin had handled most instructions, separating the men there into teams. Teams to fell trees, teams to move them to the hill, and teams to maneuver the heavy logs into place. The outpost was constructed using the long nails and iron mallets revealed to be in Durkin's pack.

It had been arduous work and Dirk's muscles still felt sore. Durkin had kept them working very hard the entire time, with no breaks.

Dirk had understood the sentiment, with little time until nightfall, it had been imperative they finish as soon as possible. However, that had not stopped him from muttering mutinously under his breath with the rest of the men about Durkin's apparent lack of any physical aid.

Just before dusk, the building had been completed. A small, windowless structure perhaps twenty feet in width and length, it rose about seven feet above the ground. As insulation, the little amount of mud available had been forced into the cracks between logs and pine branches were piled in front of each wall. On the side facing the cliff, a leather curtain served as a door, flapping stiffly in the breeze. Near to the door a a ladder leaned against the platform of logs that Dirk was now sitting on.

He shifted uncomfortably. With no chair, he had been forced to sit directly on the platform, a painful position, despite the logs having been cut in half with the flat side facing up.

The prisoners had been marched down with Captain Aetil, but Bridds and the rest of the sixteenth squad had been left behind to garrison the outpost, as a "reward," along with the promise of a replacement in the morning.

Dirk had at first been skeptical of this generous offer, but he had to admit, it was much less stressful than down in the camp.

There was no yelling, Bridds was the most senior officer, they had no standing orders but to watch the lands below, and the outpost was even surprisingly roomy with only ten people occupying it. They had of course marched to the hill with their packs, so he was just as comfortable up there as he was at camp. Perhaps more so, as he was sleeping in a building instead of a tent.

After their assignment, the men had eaten the dry rations in their packs and sat in front of the ten, talking by the light of their very small, dying campfire.

Apparently unaware or forgetful of Dirk's earlier assignment at watch, Bridds had ordered him to take the first shift of the night, which lasted until midnight.

Dirk didn't mind though. He looked down at the flickering lights below him. From up there, they looked nothing so much as glowing patched of embers. Now, however, there were three.

The army from Chestley had marched into view sometime during the day and now formed a large glowing mark on the otherwise inky blackness surrounding it. Dirk estimated to be no more than a day away, fortunately, as the Royal Army was so close.

He looked up. The night sky was so much more beautiful than the daytime. At night, the constellations were so varied, he never tired of looking at them, though he was not often up late enough to do this. And the moon! The moon was always changing, and was even more mysterious than the sun, with it's dark and light spots. And, he thought, smiling wryly, the moon has the added benefit of being able to be looked at directly.

The ladder shook as it was climbed from below. After a few moments, Cordan sleepily climbed over the edge of the platform and sat next to Dirk.

"What are you doing here?," Dirk asked surprised.