The Outcast (Summoner #4)(69)

Arcturus stared at the message, his mind reeling at the implication. The general had laid his cards on the table. There was no backing out for him now. He’d lead his soldiers to the bitter end.

“Turn your coats to the black?” Alice asked, looking up from her ministrations.

“Aye, the lining of our coats is black,” Frank said from beside Arcturus, opening his coat and showing the dark cloth within. “We turn them inside out on night missions so we blend in. It’ll help the general tell friend from foe when the soldiers reach Corcillum.”

“When?” Elaine piped up. “Are they not there now?”

“The message arrived but a few hours ago,” Percival growled. “By my estimate, most soldiers will be arriving within the next few hours.”

“But not you?” Rotter asked, his brows furrowing. “Why?”

“We took a vote. Barcroft may be a good man, and Alfric a greedy git, but we’ll not throw away our lives for either of them, or betray our solemn oaths. Our duty is to protect the people of Hominum, and we’ll not leave the borders undefended.”

“We’re lucky to have men such as yourselves protecting us,” Alice said. “Thank you for your service.”

“Aye, well, don’t thank us yet,” Frank said. “Your arrival has put us in a tough position, so it has.”

“What do you mean?” Arcturus asked, the lump of unease moving from his stomach to his throat.

“Whatever the outcome of this rebellion, we didn’t choose a side, so to speak,” Percival said, looking at his men. “We voted to stay out of it, and can argue we decided to stay and protect the borders. But now I have to decide if we will help you.”

Arcturus felt Sacharissa’s consciousness pulling within him, begging to be summoned. She could sense the threat, and his apprehension. He soothed her with a thought, trying to concentrate on the matter at hand.

“It’s my call,” Percival said after a moment. “And I reckon we should help these youngsters get to safety. So, if anyone has something to say, I suggest you do so now.”

The last of his words were addressed to his men, who seemed to be avoiding looking at Arcturus, or anything other than their feet. It seemed there was little enthusiasm either way.

Finally, Frank spoke up.

“If their parents find out we didn’t help them and the rebellion fails, we’re sunk anyway,” he said, giving Arcturus a surreptitious wink. “At least this way we might get them to safety and get back to our posts without the rebels being any the wiser.”

“It’s decided, then,” Percival said firmly. “We’ll escort you from here on in, at least until your friend here has received the medical attention he needs.”

“We’d appreciate that,” Rotter replied.

Sergeant Percival nodded, then gestured to his men.

“Don’t blame my soldiers for being so hesitant. It may seem like cowardice, but we have our families to think of. If we choose the wrong side, they may suffer as a consequence of our decision. And in truth … we don’t care enough about either side to put our loved ones at such risk. King Alfric is not forgiving, and if these rebels are burning and killing innocent people, I doubt they will be either.”

“We understand,” Rotter said, “I’d feel the same way if I had any family. I’ve heard of your platoon, Sergeant. The Twenty-Fourth, right?”

“Aye, that’s us,” Frank said.

“You’re an unconventional unit, if the rumors are true,” Rotter continued, and Arcturus could tell the soldier’s words were calculated, though he wasn’t sure why.

“So we are,” Percival replied, his voice betraying a hint of delight at being recognized. “We fight the old way. The way King Corwin fought when he first came upon these lands.”

The sergeant pointed at the back of the room, where Arcturus could see a stack of concave, rectangular shields, with spears leaned against the wall beside them.

“The shield wall is a forgotten art. But I’ve trained my men to be experts in it.”

Arcturus could see the men lifting their heads, and the pride in their faces was evident. Now he understood what Rotter was trying to do. The men were warriors. But they had forgotten it, in the face of events beyond their control. They needed to be reminded.

“I should like to see it someday,” Arcturus said. “I’m just surprised the rest of the army doesn’t use it.”

His words elicited a groan from the rest of the men, but he saw they were nodding in agreement with him.

“If the damned generals had any sense, they would,” Percival said enthusiastically. “Of course, none of them are willing to listen.”

“Maybe we could change that,” Alice said. “Our parents are officers of the highest order, some of them generals themselves. I’m sure they’d grant you an audience to demonstrate.”

“I would like that very much,” Percival said.

“I promise you, once this is over it’s the first thing I’ll do,” Alice said.

“Good,” Percival said, clapping his hands. “Now, the sooner we get you out of here, the better. Twenty-Fourth, get ready to move out!”

Arcturus stared into the flames as the men around got to their feet, ignoring the clatter of metal as they armed themselves once more. The next few hours could determine the future of the empire. And somehow, he was stuck in the middle of it.