“Pull!” Ethan called, the pulsing golden light coating a team of 20 Labori at his words. Ten pulling and ten pushing a wagon through a muddy pothole.

  Though patch might be more appropriate. Did a pothole require a road to be one? Ethan wasn’t sure. But they’d left that last road behind half a day back and moved less than a quarter of the usual distance.

  “My Lord!” A Lancer called out in greeting at the head of a party of 30. And it was that, a party and not a military unit. Six hunters in simple tanned hide armor and bearing bows and spears, combined with another half decade of Phalangites or Hestati to give it some backbone. But the rest was a mix of leather armored Labori men wielding spears and a mix of women, Craftsman and Labori bearing baskets on their backs that were half full of roots, berries and mushrooms.

  Ethan nodded easily, “A nice load!” He offered, more to improve their stamina regen than for the contents of his speech. But either way, the gold light still coated them, lingering on for a time with greatly decreased brightness.

  There were thirty such bands ranging about them in a loose half circle. With the river on one side and them on the other, with the wagons and the flocks in between.

  And so far, they’d managed to keep all those animals alive. He couldn’t say the same about the people. Ethan hid a sigh. Not that they had a choice.

  Still, at least they were managing to stay neutral on food. And better than even on some resources. “Impressive catch!” Ethan offered as a green-furred wolf that had to be carried between two men, was lifted carefully into the back of a wagon. Where four more hunters waited with bared skinning knives and a half pallet of stretched hides already.

  Ethan offered a few more words of encouragement before the group, having emptied out their baskets and dropped off some more game, headed back out.

  “My Lord!” Guile called out, galloping rapidly out of the forest. “L- Sir Leo spotted a good one!”

  “Sir Andrew, you have the command!” Ethan called, tapping his heels to his horse’s sides and galloping towards Guile, who spun his horse and turned to lead the way.

  They dashed easily through the forest, A high ride skill and tier 1 beasts making the otherwise foolhardy rush safe. A mere half minute later, they broke into a minor clearing. No sky visible overhead but a significant amount of open space between wide spread giant trees. The ground was covered in low-lying berry bushes, tall grasses, never-to-be-sufficiently-damned ferns and two full parties facing off against a small horde of goblins.

  “Steady, Steady keep those spears massed!” An older Hastati offered, laying a hand along a young Labori’s back. Bracing him against the weight of a small body that had just slammed into his braced spear.

  Lines of newly tier 1 Hastati fronted blocks of Phalangites with the same or even less experience irregularly between blocks of spear wielding Basics. All of them wearing Low-tier equipment of hides at the low end, to cobbled together demon hide with strategically sewn demon scales at the high.

  It wasn’t a pretty sigh, and yet Ethan smiled widely. This was how you got good troops. You gave them a chance to learn the ropes in a way that wouldn’t kill them.

  Not unless they were very unlucky. Or foolish.

  Just the same, he might as well lend a hand. “You have this!” He pulsed and weapons suddenly moved more gracefully and a good deal quicker. Backs straightened and raggedness in the lines smoothed itself out. He glanced at the smaller guidons fluttering on the decurions’ spears for a moment, then nodded. “16th Foot, 5th decade, extend and turn that right flank. 14th 7th back step 4 paces. 19th 3rd extend and curl that left flank. 21st 1st prepare for a charge.” He could have just used Golden Order to give each their instructions. Would have if the stakes were higher. But not all their commanders had his advantages. Best to get them used to the normal way first.

  He watched as the lines shifted half half-englobing the smaller knife and sharpened stick wielding goblins. He refused to call those filth-clad items spears.

  He nodded appreciatively as another flight of arrows from a hastily assembled block of hunters scythed into them. Even the gatherers were helping. Flinging stones from makeshift slings or even just throwing them by hand. It wasn’t much, but it showed the kind of spirit they would need to survive where they were going.

  “14th 7th prepare to pass infantry.” He waited two beats, then two more as the men struggled with the more complicated maneuver. Wincing slightly as the lines opened irregularly and a goblin slipped through to drive his knife into a man’s leg. That would take a healing, or the leg would go septic.

  “21st, Charge!” The glowing light hit the men again as they blitzed forward through the open files the previous command had created, barely covered by Sarrisas from either side.

  Then the leading shields slammed into and through the smaller goblins. Larger bodies, decent body stats and a charge skill greatly magnified by Ethan's buffs led to a front that didn’t recoil, but evaporated!”

  Ethan pointed at Guile and gestured forward. A red light pulsed with a hair-raising war cry, and the goblins broke. Beginning to run through the open end of the now c C-shaped line.

  Though not for free. Men drove forward relentlessly, collapsing towards the center of the pocket, if with considerably less skill than Ethan would have hoped for. He winced as the crossbars on a sarrisa clotheslined an overeager Hastati. Only his boiled leather gorget saved his life, if not his dignity. He fell back to the ground, grasping at his throat and choking on threads of vomit.

  It wasn’t the only such mistake either. Sarrisas weren’t an easy weapon to wield at the best of times. And newly trained, unskilled and low skilled troops were all too prone to not just poor results, but actively harmful ones to their own side.

  Ethan shrugged. They had to learn somewhere and so long as they survived it, it was a good lesson.

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  A mere two minutes saw mankind the only living creatures on the field.

  “Pst. Milo?” Ethan kept his face set as a voice carried far farther than its owner likely knew. Stats weren’t just for better movement and mind was the force behind perception.

  “I hear yas, Tobias. Yous wants sumtin?”

  “Why’d we’uns let dems small fookers go?”

  Milo kicked a corpse casually, flipping it over and reaching down to pick up the knife, or rather shiv, giving it a glance before dropping it in disgust. A splinter of beast bone probably. Or chipped flint. But in either case coated in such filth as to make it nearly a poison. “Did we’uns let dem? Lotta dead gobo’s here.”

  “But wes could have closed em in loike.” He made a circular shape with his hands.

  The veteran froze, then turned to give the young Hastati a firm glare. “Boy! Yous going to get youself killed if yous don’t start tinking. Man, beast or even gobo. Dey don’t have a place to run? Den dey fight. And dey fight hard. Yous want to live, yous keep dat in mind. Tink I -”

  The voice fell below the level that Ethan could hear as he rode away, sharing an amused glance with Guile. A nice bit of conflict. No loot, goblins were worthless for that. But as low-stakes training, they weren’t half bad.

  Just so long as they dug in deep tonight and set extra watches. Sneaking little shits.

  ___

  Ethan gasped as he pulled his head out of the wash basin, flinging his growing hair in a short ark of water backwards. He ran a hand over it as his other grabbed for the waiting towel. He found it… uncomfortable when it got too long. Though he had no logic to explain it. It might be time for a cut soon.

  He wiped his face clean, then dropped onto a cushion, still mostly armored and sword close at hand. Andrew and Guile had the light duty tonight, leaning back in loose tunics. Though neither was far from a weapon. They weren’t alone in being unarmored, though Miro and Ermina hardly counted. Blake sitting at the end of the pressed-together camp tables in his usual robe, embroidered in some unreadable set of symbols, likewise looked unarmored.

  Looks were deceiving. That robe was lined with tier 2 demon scales on the inside and had seen hard use more than once. And Ethan had marked each of them as a point of shame.

  But joining Ethan in obvious armor was Conner and Centurion Sigismund. Each already sitting with a chalice of watered wine, picking at the serving platters of food. The servants had been in earlier to drop them off and had long since been banished.

  Ethan missed Greta and Anarita on nights like this. He’d trusted them to hear these things and keep it to themselves. A trust he extended to few others. He shook his head slightly. Crushing the thought, though it didn’t go without reminding him of what else he missed about them.

  “Wat was da butcher's bill today?” Conner offered using a boiled green leaf to scoop up a compote of berries, wolf meat and minced mushrooms. A surprisingly good concoction for all that wolf was a bit rank as meats went.

  “Three dead. Two Labori and a craftsman. One man and two women. Another 26 seriously injured. Light injuries over another 70 or so.” Ethan offered easily, accepting a filled leaf wrap from Ermina with smile and a quick word of thanks. He took a quick bite and hummed appreciatively.

  “Would have been at least a dozen more dead without Blake's interference. Appreciated as always, Brother mine.”

  He waved a hand dismissively. “That’s my main duty, it seems. Healer extraordinaire at your service.” He offered it wryly, but with a bit of exhaustion in his voice.

  Ethan hid a wince. Pushing a Magister too far was… unwise. “I hope to have considerably more varied tasks for you soon enough, Brother. I know all this healing can get monotonous.”

  “And I look forward to it,” Blake agreed. “But I knew what I was getting myself into when I rejected all those cushy offers back at the camps. Our parents, grandparents and even great-grandparents built this Band. I don’t find it beneath me to keep it healthy.”

  He grinned, and suddenly the faux middle-aged wise man disappeared to reveal a boy with a toy once more. “But I do have Plans!” You could easily hear the capitals. “Runic inscriptions to reinforce our walls. Long term preservative enchantments for the storehouses and I even managed to get a look at a rift detection schematic from Magister Cassius bake in Auenland.”

  He shrugged and gave Ethan a heavier glance. “Traded him the Septicias Rebuke Ritual for it.”

  Ethan shrugged. The spells and Rituals were Blake's, and as such were his to do what he willed with. And while Ethan would prefer not to arm a potential opponent, from what he remembered, that was a pretty good choice. It prevented wounds from going septic over a fairly large area, say a hundred feet circle and cost very little in cores. But it didn’t actually heal anything.

  “A good Trade!” Conner opined as Ethan took a second bite. Damn, forest cooking grew on a man. He snagged a small slice of the hard white cheese from the side and had to hide a smile. It really did.

  “My Lord, I don’t know if I should bring this up…” Andrew set his food down, looking pensively at his plate.

  “Andrew!” Ethan spoke, a bit sharply. Catching the younger man’s eye. “You are among friends! Just spit it out.”

  He grimaced and leaned back. “Alright. It’s been an expensive day. In cores and used mostly on tier 0’s. I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask if it was worth it.”

  Ethan, the leaf half way to his mouth, grimaced and set it down with a sigh. It did need to be asked. “Maybe.” He admitted with a shrug of his shoulders.

  Blake squawked a half-heard objection, overwhelmed by Andrews startled “But you ordered it!”

  “I did.” Ethan admitted, raising his hands and patting them down repeatedly until the tent quieted a bit. “And I’m still ordering it, for serious wounds that won’t heal without it.” He offered, Blake gave him a look, then nodded in approval, sitting back down. “Doesn’t mean I’m all that confident. I’m no deity what always knows the right choice to make.”

  Conner snorted. “I knows yous, Ethan. Yous may not have all the answers. But yous rarely do things on a whim. Share em.” Finishing his piece he took another largish bite of leaf wrapped meat, then, unconcerned, took a long drink from a cup. Blakes cup, Ethan noted with a hidden smile.

  “It’s a bit of a mess.” He offered, but didn’t decline. “Life is cheap.” Ethan offered, thinking back on the auction all those months ago. Where a full legion of Labori went for 2 merit points while a single master crafted plow cost 3. “But as Miro likes to point out, cheap or expensive depends on location. And ours is beyond the end of the road. With at best, a passively hostile barony behind us, not to mention several days already of monster and beast-infested mountains and woods. Getting more people, be they Basics, skilled men or soldiers, well, it won’t be cheap. Nor easy.”

  “Throw in an obvious bonus to morale and loyalty...” There were other reasons but not ones he could put into words. Not now at least. These would have to do. Ethan waved a hand back and forth lightly in the air, “Probably worth it. And if not, it’s close enough to soothe my conscience.” He shrugged awkwardly at the admission, then plowed on.

  “For that matter, since Blake brought it up earlier. Our ancestors had some pretty strong words to share about taking care of the Band's soldiers.” Though he had a sneaking suspicion that not even those worthies would spend cores on tier 0 non-soldiers.

  Conner gave him a side-long look that told him that he’d heard that unsaid comment. As he often did. But he didn’t call Ethan on it.

  Ethan shrugged uncomfortably and took refuge in a sip of wine. Heavily watered though it was.

  And wasn’t that going to be something to get used to? He doubted grapes grew at the altitudes they were headed towards.

  The silence lingered for a time. The Bandsman working the problem over in their heads. Well, Ethan reflected, most of them were. Guile was taking advantage of the distraction to make a pretty good dent in the wine, watered or not.

  “Hay!” Andrew apparently noticed the same thing a few moments later. “Leave some for the rest of us you sot!”

  “Not my fault yous slow.” Guile offered not in the least bit repentant.

  Ethan hid a chuckle as the two’s argument spiraled into including half the table. And while Leo quietly stole Guile's filled mug and emptied it.

  He was grateful, he realized, for Guile's irreverent callousness. Not always, but today it had been just the medicine the moment warranted.

  Ermina at his side gave him a speaking glance. She’d have something to say on the subject later, no doubt. But the moment had passed and the tent quickly descended into comfortable bickering and enjoying what The Forest Provides.

  ___