NOVEL NEXT 74. Meeting Between Two Captains
The sunlight hit the ground that Tucker was standing on. Before him was the Thirty-First, armed to the teeth with weapons inscribed with protective engravings. He thought the Commander had excluded their platoon from the latest equipment, but after seeing the collapsed blacksmiths at the entrance, it turned out that wasn't the case. Carl had pulled through for them after all.
I'll have to thank the Commander and the Master Blacksmith when I get the chance.
From what Ray had told him, they had already assigned the soldiers to their set groups. Four groups total, three of them each with a hundred and fifteen for Pathfinder. Three hundred and fifteen men, an amount slightly greater than the original amount they had before. They were all formed up in the courtyard, ready in minutes since they were called.
It was hard to believe these were the same men who had struggled to form up just weeks ago. Seeing their growth made Tucker crack a smile. If he had to compare them to the other soldiers, they were as good, if not better, than them. A feat that wouldn't have been possible if they didn't put in the work to make it there. Every single one had done their best, and for that, they should be rewarded. However, he didn't have the good news they wanted.
Tucker cleared his throat and adjusted his triangular leather hat. He looked at his men and took a deep breath. "Thirty-First! You finally look like a proper platoon." Tucker grinned as the men laughed. "It's hard to believe that the ragtag militia I first met could become such a fine group of soldiers. Hell, I would say the Thirty-First platoon is possibly the finest platoon there is in the entire bastion!"
The men chuckled amongst one another, with their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. Even the watchmen standing off to the side cracked a smile.
"However, it seems like even after all the training we put you through, you sorry bunch won't have time to rest." Tucker crossed his arms in front of his chest. "But that shouldn't bother you. Am I right lads?"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"Good! This much is expected of the finest platoon within the bastion. Now I'll get down to the details." Tucker held out the brown envelope above his head. "The Avalon Empire is at our doorsteps. They will be here in the next few days. Once they arrive, we'll make them regret coming to our bastion! This isn't training anymore. This is your initiation as soldiers into the Kingdom! Do you have what it takes?"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"That's what I like to hear! Now let's show them what the Thirty-First is capable of!" Tucker pointed at the other watchmen. "Group one, you're with Luka. Liam and Jones will serve as his vice leaders. Group two you are with the Knight Slayer, and group three is with instructor Eric. The rest are with Pathfinder. Do I make myself clear?"
"Hurrah!"
"We'll prepare ourselves for the day we meet with the Thirtieth platoon on the seventh bastion. Groups one and three will be on the left side and on the curtain. Group two will be stationed on the ground and act as reserves and support." Tucker opened the envelope and read the contents. "The plan is simple: we just need to hold the walls until the order is given for retreat. Once that is done, the men on the wall will retreat first. The reserves will follow after. We move together and cover each other's backs. Are there any questions?"
Seeing no one put up their hand, Tucker nodded. "Alright, your group leaders know what to do. Move out."
The courtyard slowly emptied as all the groups started to move. Tucker stared at his men and memorized their faces. There was no telling how many of them he would see again, but for now, all he could do was prepare for the worst. Their plans for preparation were simple. They had to stock up on supplies they would need while working closely with their group leaders. While he would need to meet with the Thirtieth platoon's Captain and discuss their arrangements.
He took a deep breath and adjusted his hat once more. The wind gently brushed against his face as Gale landed on his shoulder with a quiet flutter. There was no telling what type of person the Thirtieth platoon's Captain would be, but hopefully it wasn't anything like Reynolds. With no time to waste, Tucker moved through the stone arches leading out of the barracks and made his way to the Thirtieth platoon.
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As he drew closer, the environment slightly shifted. The air was heavy, and from the countless blue banners hanging on the wall, Tucker could tell at a glance that there was an overwhelming amount of devotion to the nation. He stared at the four silver stars surrounding a crown for a moment. Not sure what to feel as his gaze lingered on the banner. There was a time when he thought dying for one's country was one of the greatest moments a soldier could have. But faced with the reality of it, he didn't know.
Tucker shifted his attention to the men standing guard by the barracks entrance. He looked at the guards, who scanned him from head to toe, searching for a sign of weakness. Once they saw the badge on the left side of Tucker's chest, they immediately stood at attention.
"At ease." Tucker waved his hand to the side. "I'm Captain Welford of the Thirty-first. I'm here to meet Captain Morgan."
The guard nodded. "Right this way, sir."
Tucker followed closely behind the guard, his head held high. He knew his platoon was looked down upon, but as their leader, he couldn't afford to make a mistake that would cause their reputation to fall. The members of the other platoon were all watching him, eyes full of curiosity. They had stopped their training in the dirt courtyard and were observing him, but for some reason, Tucker didn't feel disdain from their gazes.
"We're here."
The guard's voice brought Tucker's attention to the single oak door. Tucker saluted the guard, who held the door open for him, and made his way in. The room was decorated modestly: a wooden desk far back in the center, a few chairs surrounding a small coffee table several steps in front. It wasn't what he was expecting for an office belonging to a captain; however, he wasn't one to judge since he didn't bother to make one.
Tucker approached the man wearing a heavy suit of silver armor. Besides the high-quality engravings on his gear, the wings that protruded from the side of his helmet were the most eye-catching feature. He held out his hand and said, "I'm Captain Welford. It's nice to meet you, Captain Morgan."
The knight stood there and glanced at the outstretched hand with his blue eyes. He soon removed his helmet and held it beneath his arm, allowing his short blonde hair to fall. Captain Morgan reached out and grabbed Tucker's hand with a smile. "It's nice to meet you. Please call me Brian. I've heard great things from your men."
Tucker raised a brow, causing Captain Morgan to release a heartfelt laugh. The look of sheer confusion on the watchman's face was a pleasant surprise compared to the rumors he'd heard.
"It seems your men haven't told you they've been training with us," Captain Morgan said.
"Not that I know of," Tucker replied. "You can call me Tucker as well."
Brian nodded. "Then consider it a blessing. We were surprised they were able to keep up with us."
Tucker couldn't hide his confusion and simply smiled. "It seems like my men caused you trouble."
"Not at all. They were pretty decent sparring partners, and they had great bodies compared to the other platoons we've seen." Brian rubbed his chin with a grin. "I wanted to ask you what your training method was during the Captain's meeting, but to my surprise, you weren't there."
"Ah… I had a prior appointment, so I couldn't attend." Tucker couldn't bring himself to say that his men forgot to tell him and prayed that his excuse would be enough.
"Makes sense. It's hard to believe a watchman would volunteer to be a captain after all. I'm sure your Order must have assigned you some other matters to attend to as well." Brian gestured for Tucker to take a seat. "Now, I'm sure you've heard the news by now and know what's at stake."
"I do. That's exactly why I'm here today."
"Then I take it you want to discuss the arrangements for our section of defense?"
"That's right, I propose we split the top section of the bastion where my men will cover one half and yours the other." Tucker sat down on the wooden chair, sliding it slightly forward as it scraped across the floor. He pointed to the seventh bastion and drew an imaginary line from the tip of the star to the left curtain. "We will cover this side."
"Hmm…" Captain Morgan rubbed his chin several times and leaned back in his chair. "No."
Tucker narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
"Because, frankly speaking, your men are too weak to hold the curtains." Brian's tone remained respectful, but firm. He pointed at several other curtains. "These points are all held by platoons with a decent amount of knights. The reason the Commander paired us together was so that my men could take on that role."
Tucker stared into Brian's eyes, and seeing the sincerity, he couldn't help but concede. "If your men take the curtains, then we can take the entire bastion. But are you sure you wish to do so? It'll be one of the fiercest points of battle."
"That is our calling."
The corner of Tucker's lips curled upwards. He couldn't understand the muscular man in front of him, and at first, he thought it was going to be an awful experience talking to another captain since everyone seemed to look down on them. However, he was wrong. There were some within the castle who respected them. He watched the sun shine through the windows and off Brian's pale skin. It had been a while since he had seen one of the Kingdom's knights, but after seeing the man in front of him, Tucker knew that Brian was a man of honor and respect.
"We'll do our best to support your men on the curtains," Tucker said.
"And we shall do the same for those on the bastions," Brian replied.