Magi Guard: Chapter 5

The camp was set up in an orderly formation. Five large tents were equidistant from the central fire and communal area. Inside their ring were three other tents, one nearly as large as the outer tents.

“Each squad has its own area,” Davis explained as he pointed to each tent, naming them by their sergeant. “This helps reinforce them as a squad and part of the guard unit. The communal area in the middle here is so the squads can mingle, but it’s also where we’ll hold conditioning.”

Gregory walked beside Davis, listening as he looked over the area. Everything was in place, and the area looked clean and in order.

“That’s the mess tent. The supplies and preparation for meals are done there. The fire in front of it is for the actual cooking. Dinner will be soon, sir.”

“Let’s finish the tour so dinner isn’t delayed, then.”

“Yes, sir. The tent there is mine. Captain, you’ll be bunking with me.”

“As expected,” Willof nodded.

“The sergeants will normally report to me, and I will bring anything actionable to you. I meet them every night after dinner for a breakdown of events.”

“I’ll sit in tonight,” Gregory said.

“As you want, sir. I’d ask you to do that sparingly.”

“Because some of what they might want to discuss is about me,” Gregory chuckled. “Understood, Lieutenant.”

Davis was surprised that the magi understood it would happen and seemed fine with it, but he kept going. “This tent is yours, sir. We didn’t expect an extra; we can get him a bunk with one of the squads.”

“He’ll be in my tent,” Gregory said. “He’s here to observe me, after all, so it’s easiest to keep him close. I’m sure a cot can be arranged for him.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I noticed the boy. How many extra do we have on staff?”

“The squires? Two, sir. One for my tent and one for yours.”

Gregory nodded slowly. “Camp chores are rotated daily or weekly?”

“Weekly, sir. I’ve always found it better that way. Daily doesn’t give the men a feeling of permanency enough to do as well as they should.”

“Good call,” Willof said softly.

“As for supplies, I’m in charge of them, but each sergeant is to inform me of needs when we meet, so we should never run out of anything.”

“Which squad is cooking tonight?” Gregory asked.

“Freddy Milton’s, sir. His last night on kitchen detail.”

“Hopefully none of them are awful?” Gregory asked with a hint of laughter.

“None are awful, but some can improve. If you’ll follow me out of camp, sir?”

The four-person group walked a good distance from the camp. The lingering odor told Gregory what he was about to find— the ground between the camp and the latrine pit showed the travel between them.

Since it was a semi-permanent camp for the time being, the latrine area was set up with some privacy in mind, as well as some comfort. Gregory inspected the site with a nod before excusing himself to use it.

“The men have been told that shifting the pit is an all-unit task, sir. No one ends up on shit duty alone unless a squad fucked up badly enough to need a point driven home.”

“I can understand why,” Gregory agreed.

“If I might ask, sir,” Davis said slowly. “When you talk of conditioning, what do you have in mind?”

“The Peaceful Fist, Lieutenant, at least to start with. In time, we’ll add combat. We do have training weapons, do we not?”

“Only three squads’ worth, sir.”

“Hmm… we’ll make do with what we have. I can understand the need to optimize weight.”

“This is the last stop, sir,” Davis said, pausing where three horses were tied up, along with two oxen. “Our mounts, sir. The third there is for the captain. The oxen and wagon are for supply runs.”

“This will be interesting,” Gregory said, looking at the horses. “I’ve never ridden.”

“Once you get the hang of it, it’s not difficult,” Davis said.

“A new skill is always worth learning, and it will help me advance the mind path.”

“Ah, I didn’t want to ask. I know some magi don’t talk about which path they chose.”

“I’m unusual in that regard,” Gregory chuckled. “Thank you for the tour, Lieutenant. I’ll go settle in. When dinner is called, I will join the men.”

“Yes, sir. Captain, your things should be in the tent,” Davis said. “Did you want to settle, as well?”

“I should. I will say, Lieutenant, from what I’ve seen so far, this guard unit is as advanced as the great clans normally arrange for their favorites. I had not expected to find the men so disciplined, or the camp so well set,” Willof complimented him.

“Thank you, sir. Commander Jento was particular about who he hired the first year. He was more relaxed with the units for next year, but only because he was to have more time with them.”

“Commander Jento?” Willof asked while they walked back to camp.

“He was the second-in-command for Warlin Mercantile’s guards. Hao Warlin shifted him to hire and instruct the men for the magi, sir. From what I understand, he’s been given command of the entire training regime for all Aether’s Guard’s guard units, sir.”

Willof chuckled. “I see. Well, that does explain things. Warlin obviously cares for his daughter and her spouses. If next year’s men are as good as your men, my task will be easier by far.”

“I would expect them to be at least as good, if not more drilled, sir. My men had a year to learn the basics of every aspect we might be needed for, ranging from detail stations to town guards to fieldwork, sir.”

Willof looked thoughtful as they returned to camp. Clearly, he was thinking about what he’d been told, and possibly modifying what he was planning on doing in the near future.

Gregory and Rafiq entered the large tent to find a young man, only a few years from his age day, waiting for them. The boy’s hair was a mix of black and white, and his ears were small, rounded, furry protrusions on top of his head. His irises were solid black, so it looked like he only had giant pupils.

“Sir,” the young man said, bowing his head, “I’m Basal Badert, your batman or squire, sir.”

“What are your duties?” Gregory asked.

“To care for your horse and gear, to run any errands that you need, and to keep your tent in a neat and orderly condition, sir.”

“I see. Basal, this is Rafiq. He’ll be staying with me. We’ll need a cot and a way to partition it off so he might have a little privacy.”

“I’ll get the secondary squire area set up at once, sir. Are there any habits or rituals I should be told about, sir?”

“I wake every morning at third bell. I spend time meditating upon waking, which will get me to breakfast.”

“Do you need me to attend you when you wake, sir?”

“No. I’ll be up and dressed before the camp is called to order.”

“I will have your meal brought as soo—”

“No,” Gregory cut him off gently. “I’ll eat with the men. After breakfast, I’ll be training with them, so I’ll break my fast with them, too.”

Basal bowed slightly. “As you say, sir.”

“I’ll be getting my room in order. Do not be shocked to find very little left out.”

“Understood, sir. I collect laundry every day to get it clean. I will have it placed in your chest every night before bed. If you’ll just leave it in the cloth hamper beside your flap, sir?”

“That I can do. Were you trained for this job?”

“Yes, sir. I was trained along with the men. I’m confident in being able to complete my duties, sir.”

“Understood,” Gregory smiled. “When it’s just the three of us, Basal, you can become a little less rigid. I’m Gregory Pettit. My friends call me Greg. You can call me Greg.”

Basal stared at him for a long moment before he bowed. “I will do my best… Greg.”

“He is who he is,” Rafiq chuckled. “I’m simply Rafiq, no surname. I am an archivist from the academy archive. If you can arrange a writing area for me so I can compile my notes every night, that would be wonderful.”

“I’ll arrange it, sir,” Basal said to Rafiq.

Gregory walked through what was clearly a living space or meeting area. He noted the one section that had been partitioned off— probably for Basal— and where another section could be done similarly.

Pushing past the flap into his living space, Gregory snorted; it was nearly the same size as the front of the tent. There was an armor stand and weapon stand waiting for his gear, and two large trunks sat at the foot of his bed. His bed was more than a simple cot, as well, which Gregory frowned at. It would take up more space and weight on a wagon than was needed.

A simple slotted desk had been assembled and put to the side with a stool next to it. A table— possibly for private meals— was on the other side of the room with two more stools. There was ample space for him to do the Peaceful Fist alone here if he wanted to.

“Would it be bad if I simplified this down more…?” Gregory murmured. “Maybe Rafiq has an idea, or do I ask Davis?”

Gregory pulled a few items from his ring, setting them out to give the space some feeling of being used. That included some soap that Mindie had given him during their trip over the last week. It had a hint of citrus, but was far from overwhelming. He also set out the straight razor he used to keep his face smooth. After a moment, he put one of his non-clan kimonos into one of the chests, too.

Stepping back, he looked the room over with a small nod— it looked like a spartan individual now used the place. Finished with that, he checked the bed; it was soft, with obvious cushioning. Sighing, he was sad that nothing about bathing had been mentioned. He understood why, as there was no river nearby, which meant they were getting their water from the town.

“I really will miss the baths…” Gregory murmured. Shaking his head, he went to clean his hands and face, since dinner would be soon.