A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Chapter 223: The Ingolsol Festival - Part 2



Tolsey shook his head, exasperated. "I fear for you, boy. I don't know what you and the Captain are thinking, but there's no man about this camp that could do such work for days on end and not have it get to him. Now that you're working with us, even if the Captain does not press you on it, I'd appreciate it if you kept a check on your limits.

Else, when you reach your breaking point, we won't have the men prepared to take your place."

As Tolsey talked, Beam was only half listening to him. Tolsey had told him much the same thing the day before, after all. He figured the best way to teach the man that he was fine was merely to continue to show him.

The Vice-Captain seemed to think that they shared similar limits, since they were both of the Second Boundary, but Lombard had pointed out more than once that the significance of a boundary break varied from one person to the next, meaning a Second Boundary man might be even as strong as a Third Boundary man, in particularly rare circumstances.

As they walked, soldiers called out to them.

"Haha! Fine work again today, Mountain Slayer! Just a glance at all that filth on ya, and you can see if you've only gone and slain half the bloody forest again!" One particularly friendly sergeant called out to him. They'd worked a shift together the day prior, and the man had continually remarked just how easy things were with Beam on the front lines.

The two squadrons that were in reserve had far less work to do than they normally might. It was usually bows they kept in their hands rather than spears, assisting Beam with his kills from afar. In truth, merely that added support of arrows raining down in assistance made a world of difference to Beam.

It helped him avoid the deadlocks that he often fell into when confronting a large group of enemies, and it made his misdirection training all the more powerful, for his enemies had multiple threats they had to take care of.

"Mountain Slayer!" Another soldier joined in, raising a toast to his name. "May more little monsters of his like come crawling down from those bastard Black Mountains, so we can be cleared of night shift as well."

Laughter met his words. Tolsey grimaced, half expecting Beam to grow angry at the particularly gruff remarks. There was respect there, certainly – a respect of his skill. But there was also a distinct lack of caution, for all of them knew him to be a peasant.

But Beam would merely smile at their manner. He found he didn't mind it. He saw these soldiers about the camp, and on the battlefront as almost different people to those that he had seen about the village.

In the village, there was a clear dividing line between rank, and the soldiers were incapable of holding back their want to demonstrate that fact. But here, there was a higher degree of camaraderie. All that truly mattered was holding the enemy back, and the respect that came with being capable of achieving that transcended social rank.

Of course, there were still some that weren't particularly fond of Beam's presence. They acknowledged the work he did, and were pleased for it, but they didn't think he should be treated so well – with a tent of his own, and food from the army's supplies.

These were the same men that Beam had quarrelled with the other day, but nothing had yet to come of their prickliness, and so Beam merely ignored them.

"Ah! There he is – I told you I'd find him. Got a sixth sense for the lad by this point, I do," Judas said, rounding a corner in the row of tents, stumbling upon Beam and Tolsey as they walked.

Judas' shifts weren't quite as aggressive as Beam's. He tended to do the same shifts as the soldiers, whilst also helping with building work. He had less rest than the other soldiers might, but he still wasn't pushed quite past his limits, as Lombard sought to make proper use of that strength of his.

A few soldiers were trailing behind Judas, as he loudly called them over. All of them had drinks in their hands, and their faces were flushed.

Tolsey frowned upon seeing them. "Have you men not exceeded your drink ration?"

"…No," One man said, but there was a drunken pause before he admitted to, which made him seem all the more suspicious.

"Hah… No more drinks for the rest of the evening," Tolsey said. It was hardly a punishment – they'd already exceeded the ration after all.

At that light-hearted decree, the men saluted with a jovial "sir!" and then went right back to grinning.

"So?" Beam asked. "What were you looking for me for?"

Judas shrugged. He was as drunk as them. Somehow the man had a talent for fitting in amongst the soldiers. A large proportion of them were thoroughly fond of the man, despite his rank. "Just wanted to see how ya getting on, y'know. They figured you'd be wounded by now or something, and everyone was worrying about that.

Not 'cos they're nice, mind you, but 'cos nobody around here wants to do any work."

"Not true! We are nice!" Came a drunken response. "You're one of us now, ain't that right, boys? We're just making sure you're getting on alright. If you're injured, we figured we'd take you to that pretty lady that's started showing up to tend to the wounded. She might be a peasant, but she's a looker!"

"Eh, boys, I wouldn't…" Judas warned.

"Wah? Why not? The boy's entitled to a bit of treatment. Some of the boys have started pretending to be sick, just to get her to check up on them. She's too nice, that's the problem… Makes me want to get injured as well – not a big injury, mind you. Just a little scratch or something," the soldier continued drunkenly.

Beam glanced at Tolsey. Tolsey understood the look.

"Careful, gentlemen," he warned. "Anyone troubling that woman will have the Captain's wrath to deal with." Beam had made them promise as much, after seeing her patiently try to deal with a dozen soldiers acting like children around her the day prior. The Captain had readily agreed. At this point, it seemed that he valued Beam's work so much that he was liable to agree to anything.

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