TCOB: CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CONSCRIPTED

Ashcol Duchy,

Eris - Ethania.

…

The next day…

Once again, Clyde stared at the morning sky, reconsidering his life choices from where he sat on the same farm cart as earlier. His exposed torso was covered in bruises and a thick herbal scent wafted off his body.

Clyde still couldn't fully understand what happened the day before. Despite resolving his heart and expecting to be executed when his plan to subdue Sir Tuile with the promise of glory and power fell through, he somehow was still alive. Although he was publicly beaten to the very edge of death a few times―as his health dropped to eleven at one point―the yeomen would decisively stop to allow his health to recover slightly before they continued. It was almost as if they were afraid of accidentally killing him.

The experience was harrowing for someone who had never been so abused in either of his lifetimes. Surprisingly though, Binny seemed to have forgiven him for trying to steal Maggie and almost implicating her family in his debacle. While in hindsight this fact doesn't matter much since the family wasn't going to lose much whether he succeeded in escaping or not, Clyde still appreciated the fact that she went out of her way to concoct an herbal solution to help with his injuries.

The lovely woman also volunteered Maggie to cart him away so he wouldn't have to trek to Neverna while being so heavily bruised. He almost couldn't believe she let him near the animal again given the number of incidents involving just the both of them over the past week.

Clyde might be a terrible person, but he was also one who knew the value of repaying favours. If a chance to aid her ever appeared in future without sacrificing too much he would be sure to take it.

He silently observed the men around him as his cart rocked and swayed upon the uneven dirt path. Under the supervision of a rather sizable group of yeomen, Clyde and twenty-nine other men were escorted to Neverna. From what Clyde gleaned from the solemn whispers of men around him, it appears they had all been indefinitely conscripted into the service of the baron of Neverna, Lord Gaeb.

***

When the group finally arrived at the town, the sun had already begun its descent back towards the horizon. Their arrival drew a lot of attention from the surrounding townsfolk given the size of their group, but no one appeared surprised, just mildly curious.

In the distance, Clyde could see two other similarly sized groups arriving at the town, hinting at the fact that they weren't the first to arrive. As they approached the lord's manor, Clyde saw a large group of men gathered outside in a field just outside the manor's stone walls.

With a heave and a pained gasp, Clyde alighted from the cart and joined the men walking towards the field. He had nothing on him except for the cloth on his back. Everything he had was confiscated by the men who supervised his punishment. From his grain to his bow and quiver full of arrows, all the way down to his small pouch containing only two iron coins, everything was taken away. Even the bags he crafted to carry fruits and nuts, as well as their contents, were not spared, as the soldiers made sure they stripped him clean of anything of value before sending him on his way.

Clyde wasn't too bothered by this though as he didn't truly value those things except as a means to an end. An end, which in a dangerous, and painfully roundabout way, he eventually achieved. His goal of seeking employment as a yeoman was underway, and while the fact he suspected―from Sir Tuile's words and the sobering whisperings of his fellow peasants―to be drafted only to serve as cannon fodder―a possibility that still bothered him greatly―he still considered himself somewhat lucky.

At least he had not been killed immediately and still probably had a few weeks ahead of himself to attempt to make some preparations for the worst.

Clyde shuffled along silently, wincing with every step as he followed his fellow villagers to stand in a portion of the fields. No one approached him where he sat, a few metres away from the rest of the group. In fact, the men seemed to be actively avoiding him. It appears a rumour had been going around that Clyde was caught fraternising with demons. Not that he minded. At least he had his peace.

…

Dusk…

Several hours went by as a few more groups arrived at the town to join the rest in the field. Clyde sat with his eyes closed, allowing the cool evening breeze to blow over his bare back. The paste Binny applied to his back seemed to contain some herbs similar to mint or eucalyptus as he felt the cooling sensation on his wounds amplify whenever the wind blew.

Bless that woman… Clyde moaned under his breath as he felt his nerves relaxed. He almost felt like he could fall asleep there and then. But as Clyde's consciousness began to wane. he heard a loud voice address his group.

"Get up, you maggots!" a man shouted. Clyde's eyes peered open as he looked around to see the villagers staring confusedly at a man standing in front. The fellow, appearing to be in his mid-twenties, was tall, standing at about five foot nine. His eyes were a lighter shade of amber than Clyde's and he had a head of dark brown hair. Overall, he was very handsome and possessed a fit, muscular figure.

"I said, GET UP YOU MAGGOTS!" the handsome man―a knight if one judge's from the armour on his body and the disdain in his eyes―repeated in a louder tone. Startled by the implied aggression in his tone, several villagers shot to their feet; the ones who were slow on the uptake soon imitated their colleagues.

Despite his hurting body, Clyde had already begun to stand up from the moment the knight first spoke. It was not like he was unaware of what was going on. He had served in the military for some time in his previous lifetime, after all. If there was one thing he could indisputably say he learned during his service, it was to always obey the hierarchy. Doing that tends to result in you not receiving the short end of the stick and unduly suffering mistreatment.

It also provided an opportunity to appeal to one's superiors as well as the possibility of elevating one's status in the ranks. This was a method tried, tested and proven true during his time with the police. One which he fully intended on capitalizing on now.

It appeared his quick-wittedness was noticed as the knight gave a small nod of approval before turning his attention to the rest of the group.

"Can anyone tell me why you have been sent here?" the knight asked, casting his stern gaze across the men gathered. One villager raised a hand hesitantly, to which the knight immediately nodded. "You, speak."

"D-dungeon delving, m’lord? W-we are going to be sent to fight monsters?" the villager said, uncertain. He appeared to be hoping to have given the wrong answer.

He hadn't.

The knight nodded as the villager's expression turned despairing. "In a few weeks, you would all be sent underground into deep, dark caverns filled with monsters and other dangerous creatures. Many of you will die, many will return crippled, and a few more will be flayed alive for attempting desertion."

More than a few men flinched at those last words. The knight nodded as he observed the fearful expression on the faces of the men gathered.

"More than a few of you will not live past your first delve, there is no changing this fact. But there is hope," he said solemnly. "If you survive long enough to rack up some accomplishments you might even be bestowed with some minor title and can request to be redrawn from service… But this can only happen if you completely and absolutely obey my orders. No slacking, no two-facing, no insubordination. Only total obedience and loyalty. Any questions."

Silence…

"Good," the knight nodded. "You may all refer to me as Sir Justin as I will be the one supervising your martial training. From this moment forth you are all conscripted into the service of Lord Gaeb of Neverna.

"Do well and you just might live to see another year."