Warscribe Redux Pages 1-6

A knot of desperation grew in Ian’s stomach as he ran through the boot sucking mud of the streets. He raced towards the building where a regiment of the army was recruiting locals. They had been in his village for the past few days, touting the opportunities and honor of service to any who would listen before they departed for elsewhere. It was their final day of stay in Ian’s village and he hoped that he would reach them in time. Not to sign up however, but to stop someone else from enlisting. He reached the front of their makeshift office, panting. Throwing the door open, he shouted, “Where is my son!?” Blank young faces, some of whom he recognized, turned towards him. They didn’t seem to know what to make of the gaunt-looking older man with thinning hair in the doorway. A perturbed looking and scruffy headed young man emerged from the back and walked up to Ian.

“What are you doing here father?” he muttered, trying to save face in front of his fellow recruits.

“I’m here to stop you from making a mistake,” Ian said. “What do you think you’re doing? Do you have any idea what you’ve done to your mother?”

“It’s what I want,” he explained. “There’s noting for me here, not any more.”

“Fool boy, you don’t know what you want.” Before their argument could get any more heated, a man in a blue uniform walked up to them with a glare in his eyes that could kill.

“Is something wrong here?” The officer asked. The fire in Ian’s blood cooled considerably as the officer directed his ire towards him like a weapon.

“No, sir.” Ian said, calming himself. “I was merely discussing my son’s… choices. My son, though I love him so, can be a fool at times.” At this, Ian’s son glared at his father but said nothing.

The officer sighed to himself. “Your son has chosen to enlist himself in the army.”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you not find honor in serving the empire?” The officer’s eyes narrowed just slightly. “You should be proud.”

“I know, sir. It is just—” Ian took pains to not look in the eyes of officer directly. Instead he turned towards his son. “I cannot bear to lose him. And I know he is making a mistake he will regret.” He mustered his courage and looked at the officer. “Please, take me in his place.”

“Father, no!”

The officer cut him off with a raised hand. “If what you ask were even possible, why would we do such a thing?”

“I—I don’t know. Please, my son is young. Let him serve the Empire in some other way.”

The officer ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “What is your occupation?” He seemed to at least be humoring Ian.

“I am a scribe, sir.”

At that the officer paused. He raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“I track agreements between people. Debts, credit. I put them to paper for them to sign. Sometimes I am dictated letters to be sent to people.”

“I see.” He rubbed his chin in contemplation. “Interesting. Does your son here apprentice to you?”

“No sir, though I have tried. He’s decided to apprentice to a local blacksmith instead.”

The officer smirked and placed a hand on the shoulder of Ian’s son. “Perhaps you should listen to your father more.”

“Sir? What is the meaning of this?”

“I believe we may be able to find a use for you after all,” the officer said to Ian. “Young man, you may return home.”

“What?!” Ian’s son looked incredulous. Ian took his hand.

“May I have a moment with my son?” he asked the officer and received a nod in return.

“You have one minute, then we move out. It was lucky you arrived when you did,” the officer said with a chuckle.

Outside, the two stood in the cold. His son stared at him in disbelief, confused and angry. “Why are you doing this?”

Ian shook his head. “My son, I pray I haven’t made a mistake for the both of us. If time passes and your head clears and you still wish to enlist, then so be it.” He added, “But, I think I know you well enough by now.”

“You’re insane. How are you going to survive?”

Ian shrugged. “I have lived a good life.” He placed a hand on his son’s shoulder and squeezed. “Listen to me. There are other ways to serve the empire. Reconcile with Natalie. Or find someone else who will make you happy. Grow old together and have children.” Ian looked at the office door. “Take care of your mother and sister. Tell them I will return if I am able. Now go.” He pushed his son and said louder, “Go before they change their mind!” His son took a few steps back before turning and breaking into a run. Ian watched, his old life raced away with the footsteps of his son.

Ian, along with the rest of the recruits, set out soon after. They rode by wagon to where the rest of the army was camped in fields on the outskirts of a handful of villages including Ian’s. The other recruits with him cast sidewise glanced towards Ian but said nothing. He spent most of the trip looking down at his hands, creased and worn from age, but soft. After spending most of his life holding quill and paper he wondered if he could even hold a sword without bruising them. The sun set before they reached camp, but its many torches and campfires lit it and the surrounding fields up. By the light, Ian could see that the camp was a large collection of tents, some of which were massive, at least equal in size to the buildings from his village. Their wagon came to a stop at the front of the camp dropping them off with recruits from other villages who had arrived before them. Left to themselves, the recruits stood in a disorganized clumps talking to each other. Ian counted about two dozen or so young men and him, the geezer amongst them.

“Fall in!” A powerful voice came at them. Each of them, even Ian, quickly gathered shoulder to shoulder and stood as rigid as they could manage. A tall, older man with closely shaved gray hair in a well worn uniform walked out of the camp to greet the recruits. Ian reckoned him to be around his age, but obviously more hardened. “I am Commander Petrov,” he began. “Welcome to the glory of the Alban Empire. Here, you will learn to fight and kill to protect your homeland. There is no greater honor than the one you are about to embark on. The life you once knew is over. I suggest to all of you right now to put whatever warmth and softness is in you into a safe, dark place in your soul. They will not serve you in the times ahead.” He swept out his hand and gestured into the camp. “Now, come and join your brothers and sisters!”

The young recruits cheered and rushed into camp. Ian followed them, walking with a less enthused pace. He glanced at Commander Petrov, only to see the commander’s eyes locked on him. Ian quickly looked away, but felt the commander’s gaze burning into the back of his neck. Once inside, Ian was issued a uniform, blue long-sleeved buttoned shirts and pants. The recruits were then led to the mess area, a series of large open tents, where food was served. They were arranged in such a way to encircle a courtyard area with tables and benches. Ian was given a tin tray with a hard biscuit, a scoop of mash with gravy, and a mug of beer. The mess area filled up with recruits chattering and joking to each other excitedly. Each told taller tales than the last, boasting of the feats they’d surely accomplish in battle. Ian sat by himself, away from his fellow recruits. The biscuit was about as he expected and reminded him of biting into a chunk of wood. The mash was slightly better and he spent most of his meal soaking his biscuit in it to soften it.

Afterwards, they were sent to their barracks, a long hall-like tent filled with cots. Recruits filed in, eagerly claiming territory for themselves. Ian picked out a cot at the head of the barracks, took the boots off from his aching feet, and pulled the covers up over himself. The others were still wound up with excitement and took some time to settle down. As the night wore on, more and more of them crawled into bed and the barracks fell into enough of a silence that allowed Ian to begin to drift to sleep. He thought of his family. The brown curls of his daughter, the freckles on his wife’s face, and his son’s impetuous smile. A muffled noise came from the back of the tent, catching Ian’s attention. He focused in on it and realized what it was. One of the recruits had begun quietly sobbing.