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  “The less than honorable fighters? Yes. Let’s see what they can do.”

  It was a slaughter, of course. Instead of marching up to fight, after a volley of arrows, the troops that George had trained ran away. That got a laugh from the military men, until they started taking fire from cover. They had bows as well, and knew how to make the sky rain death, but they were being hit by blunted staves from all directions suddenly. Their leader, Sergeant Boil, trying to keep his line held solidly, returned fire. The men shot at just hid from the falling wood, as the others kept picking the men off. It was, literally, what the Tollan would be doing.

  After a few minutes of this, Captain Herret called out.

  “Close and combat!”

  That was a mess, but it was clear that the soldiers, while better fighters than the irregulars, were at a real disadvantage. Finally, being hit from all sides, they broke, scattering to try and fight one on one. Which got the irregulars to pull back again, moving away as they fired arrows at the men who tried to rush them. The bows weren’t as powerful as all that, being on average a seventy pound draw weight for each. They were long bows, but the men weren’t professional archers. Everyone in the Army was, but they weren’t using them yet. It was still enough to knock down the soldiers as they tried to rush in to close the distance. Finally, the Sergeant not being hidebound, the man went clever, and called to his own men.

  “Retreat to cover! Bows and slings!” They hadn’t been using the rock and bullet throwers yet that day, but the things worked, as a distraction.

  His group just ran off when that happened. The General didn’t call the contest, which meant he stood there for over an hour, while the men waited for the soldiers to finally regroup, thinking they were safe. Then they ambushed them with more arrows.

  Finally, the General sighed.

  “Done. Bring it in. I think…” He seemed pissed off enough that George half expected him to become stubborn over things. “I think that this clarifies some things for me. How do we use our methods to best challenge these alternative tactics?” That was directed at Captain Herret, who smiled.

  It wasn’t a friendly thing.

  “We use smaller groups, focus our attacks so that each fight is one or two men on one barbarian. Hold an archer back, ready to draw, while engaging with them. If they run, we don’t allow escape.” It was about the worst thing to tell soldiers to do, even if it was George’s plan.

  Overwhelm the attackers and cheat like hell.

  The older man flared his nostrils, then shook his head, angrily.

  “Let’s see it. I can’t say I love the sound of it.”

  The Captain, his deep red shirt hidden under his warm jacket, closed his eyes for a moment.

  “Agreed sir. It’s what will work, but the implications are a horror.”

  That made sense. Even George thought that was the case, to be honest about it. When the third military force came out, they worked together to slaughter the irregulars, one at a time. Those weren’t fresh, but that wouldn’t have made much of a difference. The older man stroked his white mustache. It was a very long, handlebar type of thing. The hair on his head was thin on the top, but covered with a fur hat at the moment.

  Most of the men had that going on, though some of the irregulars wore woolen knit caps instead. That was what he had on, since no one wanted George to be mistaken for a military man. It still happened, since his demeanor kept throwing the soldiers off.

  In the end, it was clear that they could either play fair and let a lot of people on their side die, or change tactics and slaughter a whole lot of the enemy. Enough that it wasn’t fair, really.

  In the end the older fellow looked distressed, but managed to smile at the men.

  “Excellent. All of you. Captain Herret, Captain Elder, if you’d attend me?”

  The words got a strange look from Herret, though the man wasn’t really worried about it. They actually managed to get along. The fellow had been picked to work with him in particular due to the fact that he was also a Weapons Master. It had been figured that his mind might be a bit more malleable than a lot of the other leaders. He was good, as it turned out, in personal combat. A full master as well, which meant that he signed off on George being the same, once he knew it was needed.

  He’d managed to beat the man three out of five times, which had impressed him.

  Then they’d argued tactics for months.

  In a friendly enough fashion, but every step had been tested, several times, to make certain it was the right one. Their poor irregulars had been worked so hard that they probably wished it was spring, so they could get back home and not have to practice all the time. Not that farming was easier. It was just familiar to them.

  Everyone in the world agreed that the Tollan were going to be coming for them soon enough. The plan was, as early as possible, to go into their lands, over the mountains and do some damage, before the big attacks could be put together. The thing there was that a large fighting group for the barbarians would be about two hundred strong. The king of Stena was ready to send in a single body of twenty thousand men.

  There was a building, made of logs and mud brick, which had been put together for important visitors. It was cozy and dry inside, with a fire that left him sweating as soon as they all walked in. The General, Sayner, looked at them both, then moved to the low table on the far side of the room and poured three metal cups with a splash of something alcohol smelling.

  The man passed the silver metal things toward George and Herret.

  “Lisian Brandy. Now, I’m nearly certain that the two of you are the darkest of evil. That’s about right, don’t you think?” He was teasing, but from the expression, Herret was a bit mad at it being said.

  George took a sip of the brandy, appreciating the burn of it.

  “This is good, Sir. As to your question, clearly evil. The only problem is that we either do that, or find the enemy taking thousands of lives and at least that many women and girls. We either sacrifice our honor for their lives and welfare, or live with the fact that we could have done more, but didn’t, so that we can feel good about ourselves later.” He didn't mean anything much by it, but the old man glared at him. Captain Herret hid a smile behind his metal cup.

  It was awkward for a bit, but finally Sayner nodded at them.

  “I understand. That is often the way of war. Not one that any in command love well, either. Our honor is often the first casualty in battle. Now, Captain Elder, you might have noticed the promotion?”

  He snorted a little, but nodded.

  “I had, now that you mention it, Sir. Since I didn’t sign up and hadn’t heard about a conscription starting yet…”

  The old man scoffed at him, loudly. Then he took a healthy sip of his adult beverage. That reminded George to do the same thing. He didn't normally drink much, but that was more about not having a chance to, rather than a desire to be a good example for the men.

  “Normally that would be correct. My boss, High General Wendell, decided that you were too important not to have a hold on, so he forced through a promotion, getting the king to sign off on it. It is a de-facto order of conscription, for one man. I bet that leaves you feeling praised and special now, doesn’t it?”

  The man wasn’t so foolish as to not understand that he didn’t feel that way at all, in particular. Rather than argue the point, since the man telling him about it all had no power to overrule the king, he simply nodded.

  “For how long?”

  That got a smile at least, instead of a frown.

  “Six months, only. It was felt that doing more than that would be pushing the bounds of propriety. This isn’t a punishment or enslavement, after all. Simply a way to insist that you don’t go back to your town and business before the coming campaign. It might be extended, at need. I won’t lie to you on that. You’re to work under Captain Herret here, as you have been. The difference now is that you’ll be responsible for actual combat missions. I know that this isn’t your c
hosen profession… What was that again?”

  Captain Herret smiled then, looking a bit mean about it. He had a full beard, all in brown, since he wasn’t that old, being only thirty-two.

  “He’s a Cartwright, General Sayner. From what I understand he’s even good at it.”

  George expected a ribbing to come, but the older man just nodded at him.

  “That could be useful. Wagons break down and having someone to oversee the repairs can make a vast difference as to how well the troops move. You’ll be in charge of the mobile border guard. The main force will move in to attack their major encampments inside the Tollan lands. The irregulars will be allowed to go to their homes, since we don’t need to lose their productive efforts yet, if possible. Having trained men ready in most towns and villages might well be important.” He sipped and then grimaced. “I’d order you both not to allow that to happen, but the barbarians are clever and canny, when it comes to slipping lines. That is a known thing. You have three or four weeks to ready yourselves. The troops are coming in the next weeks, which means training them in your new techniques inside scant days.”

  That was going to be hard. Even if they were good and followed orders. The army fought in a line, with spears, side by side. Teaching them new tricks could work, if they had enough time to practice.

  A thing not lost on the military men.

  Herret looked puzzled for a moment, before speaking.

  “Am I keeping my current company?”

  “Yes. So, you’ll have some trained troops ready. That will aid in the new training as well, I hope. I won’t tell you how to get that done, but you may want to outfit Captain Elder here, before they get in. Then have him fight the strongest men from each new squad or some such. They need to understand that he’s important and capable, regardless of his youth.” The last of the drink was taken on board by the man, as he moved to get a map out. “Gather around here, by the table. I’ll cover your responsibilities. You’re to be our net and shield, all in one.”

  George did as he was told, since it seemed he was under the man’s direct command now. Herret’s as well. Thankfully they got along. Otherwise things might well have gotten tense, since he’d jumped seven or eight ranks in a few minutes. The only real saving grace was that it wasn’t real. He was being given rank to control him and use his labor, not anything else.

  Eventually, armed with knowledge about what was going to be required, they were released. They walked carefully, trying not to lose boots in the mud and muck. Neither spoke, until Herret did.

  “They’re desperate for some reason. The barbarians aren’t that big of a threat to us. Yes, as you said, to those men and women that might be attacked, but not to the kingdom. Something else must be going on. They’re only sending in twenty thousand fighters this time. It will work, but last time it was five times that. They’re giving us five hundred troops, all foot, to cover a thousand-mile-long border. That’s nearly as bad as not having anyone there at all.” He grinned then, as if he were pleased. “At least we’re getting that Witch. A seer, so that might help some. I’ve worked with a few of them before. You?”

  George had heard the words, but didn’t know what to think really. Herbs and such were probably a good idea, though he didn’t know if it would help them repel invaders.

  “I’ve never met one, to be honest. Homess isn’t that large.” There was no judgement in his words. After all, if he was making up the world he was in at the moment, then there could be useful Witches that had real powers. If he wasn’t and the other world was the false one, then there was no saying that they might not exist for real anyway.

  It was only in that other place that it couldn’t work.

  That realm of science that had killed all magic so long ago that few even considered it as being a possibility. They had gods and superstitions, but the only people that thought magic was a thing were idiots. That didn't mean this world might not have that kind of thing, so he held his tongue and tried to keep that in mind. After all, at least one of the worlds had to be real. Or both. If that was the case, they might have different rules in the two places.

  So, him acting like he knew it all wasn’t the best plan.

  “Well, I hope that helps. We aren’t going to just accidently find groups coming across the border like that. Especially if they move in the woods. They could use horses, so they have us on movement speed by a lot.” Except that, if they were careful, in shape and driven men could outdo a horse in miles traveled per day. In a race, the horses would always win, however.

  Worse, men didn’t move fast in large groups.

  Herret smiled at him, slapping him on the arm.

  “I hope so as well. We need anything we can get here. Thank goodness most of the irregulars are at least partially trained. That idea was inspired. Captain Renner got that set up, didn’t he?”

  George nodded.

  “Right. Good man, Renner.”

  That was just agreed to, even if he had to be a bit more careful now, in how he referred to people. Ranks weren’t a thing that were required for civilians to use all the time. In the military, they were used constantly. That, or calling people sir. From then on, at least for the next six months, it would have to be Captain Renner. Otherwise the men might get confused at some point.

  The next days were a bit strange for him, since he had to get new clothing, to match his rank, which surprised some of the men. He just explained the whole thing, including that it was both real and temporary. They just kept practicing, working on the new skills without stopping, since they were all going to have to be on tap to fight and train the new people. That part was going to be a pain and a half, but if they did it right, it would be worth it.

  Maybe.

  The time there just stretched out, one week turning to two, then nearly a full month. For a moment George wondered if this was the time he never went back. After all, if this was real, then it could happen. Or he might be in a vegetative state, starving in his bedroom. In that case, he’d either wake up there or die, making it be all over.

  He didn’t want to die, but that didn't mean he wasn’t willing to welcome having a single life again. That was what he was thinking when word came from the lookout that a large military group, one of theirs, was headed toward them. Not that it was that huge when they got into view. It was nearly four hundred people, but that wasn’t a lot for an army.

  Captain Herret waved him over as they came into view, down the muddy road.

  “I was expecting them to make it about now. They… Traveled well, actually. Considering the roads around here are half mud this time of year. I expected the supply wagons to slow them down.”

  George nodded, then smiled. They called for the men to line up, to wait for their new fellows. It was cool out, but very near the beginning of true spring. About forty degrees Fahrenheit, he guessed. They just held their ground, until the Sergeant in charge of the travel group came up to them on a nice gray horse. It was young and healthy looking. The man himself was older than either of them were, which meant he glared at them for a moment, before schooling his face.

  That was probably down to the fact that he had a full and rough looking beard shot with gray, while George was clean shaved. Like a boy. Which he technically was, as far as the law went. Until his twenty-fifth birthday. Not that it got him any benefits. He could have owned land at ten, or married at fifteen. Seven year olds drank there, so being of age was more of a marker, instead of something that allowed you new rights you lacked before that point.

  The man got off his tall horse, looking a bit rough from the road. That happened, when you traveled.

  “Sirs. Sergeant First, Edgar Martin, reporting as ordered, Sir.” There was no saluting, but he did look at the horizon. They did that instead of standing at attention there. It was nearly the same thing. It meant that you could tell if one of the men was going to swing on you instantly, since that required eye contact for most people.

  George could have pulled off not doing
it that way, but most wouldn’t even think about it. It didn’t come up often, but it was kind of a good idea, once he thought about it. Most of the military wasn’t there to fight their own side, but people could get worked up in hard conditions.

  There was a sidelong glance at him, then down at his Captain’s badge. That got a strange look from the grizzled fellow. A thing that wasn’t lost on Herret.

  “Report, Sergeant.”

  “Not much to say, Sir. We traveled along the main northwest road, and were joined by the Witch at Branford. There have been no major issues or problems in the ranks. The men are tired, but it should only take a few days of rest to recover totally. The food held out. We did have some stuck wagons, but had the man power to get them out each time, without hours of work.”

  “Excellent. We need to get them set up. We already have a spot for the Witch. Can you have her come forward?”

  “Yes, Captain. Allow me… Bring forth the Witch!” That was bellowed loudly, which was repeated by the line, until finally, from near the back on the right-hand side, a thin woman wearing a black traveling cloak and carrying a simple pack, walked forward. It wasn’t until she was nearly there that the lady lowered her hood. The dark brown hair was a bit greasy, since hygiene suffered on the road. She also didn't have any makeup on. The hem of her robe was covered with mud and muck.

  As she stepped toward them, he nodded.

  “Gina.” The name just popped out, the woman fixing him with her gray eyes. After a moment those popped open and she smiled at him.

  “George? George Elder? I didn’t think to see you here. Is this what you meant, by saying you were insane?”

  The others looked at them both, one at a time, with the woman finally focusing on Captain Herret. She explained, looking pleasant.

  “One of my powers allows me to look into other worlds. There’s a George Elder in one of them, a friend of mine. You work as a mechanic there, don’t you?”

  He nodded, since it was right.