 
       
|
The BloodVaine EpicChapter 75: Call To March
Green Fox paced along the corridor, lost in his thoughts. He had been given a short sword and some very light armor. He wondered what good it would do. He took in all Jack had said previously in the Great Hall. He wasn’t exactly sure of the circumstances, but he new a battle was coming.
And he thought to himself, What use am I? If there’s a battle coming, I’ll just want to loot and loot some more. People are going to die, and I am going to make a profit...
He surprised himself with his morality.
Maybe Bjarn was right...
He walked further down the corridor and leant against a door.
What if I die...if Bjarn died...there would be much...wailing and...gnasing of teeth. What if I die…?
He thought some more.
What happens WHEN I die? Who will mourn me? No-one. I am going to die. I know that. So...I may as well die on the battlefield...trying to do the right thing for once...
The door pushed open under his weight. Jack Craft was inside, muttering softly to himself. The two men looked at one another for a long, silent moment before the whisper of a fallen bandage-roll broke the pause.
“Fox. Ye’ve come the wrong way, lad. The ale is in the room across the way.”
“I want to help,” the Green Fox blurted in the very same instant.
Jack scowled, and scraped his knuckles absently along the wooden barrel-top.
“Aye? Bjarn isn’t offering any payment, last I heard.”
Green Fox flinched. He tried again.
"No. No, Jack. I wasn’t trying to play mercenary. I want to help. I want to do something important, while I still can.”
Jack stared at him for another silent forever, and scratched at his beard. Finally, his eyes widened.
"Brix and Blox. You mean it, don’t you? Aye, Jack sees it in your eye. Madmen and crusaders have that look, they do.”
“I’ve nothing to offer Bjarn, save my sword arm. And I expect nothing from him. Maybe not even forgiveness, at this point. But I want to do what’s right.”
“Aye. I believe you do, at that.”
A low, trembling horn called out to the west, the single mellow note hanging like soot in the air. Somewhere, not far off, a drum beat began. The sounds of rattling armor and pikes drifted from all sides.
“What's that? What's happening, Jack?”
Jack stood, and shouldered his pack. His eyes were clouded.
“Sunrise, lad. The call to march. It’s begun.”
The pair left the room and walked down the corridor in complete, awkward, silence. On their way outside, they stopped at a small room. Jack knocked and walked inside. Inside was Jack's little troop. They made a rather uninspiring scene. Green Fox grinned.
“And these are?”
Jack replied, “These people are in my charge. Medics, herbalists, healers.”
“And what good will they do?”
Green Fox selected one of them and passed his sword to him. He looked no older than a boy.
“Here. Kill me.”
Jack stared at him blankly.
Green Fox replied, “These people are of no use on a battlefield.”
He nervously took the sword and swung. It missed by a good foot and he dropped it. Green Fox sighed.
“See, he can’t even handle a sword! I’ll stay with the rank-and-file, thank you very much. I don’t want to get killed messing around with healers...they’ll just be a big tempting target. Look! He can’t even handle a weapon! Why, Jack? I know you were…”
Jack’s stare silenced him.
“Fox, just trust me on this one…”
| Previous Chapter | Next Chapter |
|
|
