“The state of a soldier’s uniform and gear reflects the state of a soldier’s ethic and that of their commander.” —Proverb of Knight House Tenigre

  Castle Tower, Cryptonia, Ground Plane

  The following day, Jasper had a quick breakfast after sleeping in. He had once again been up entirely too late studying the books in his room. The young man had been awake enough to stumble into bed at least, for that was where Calian had found him the next morning. Shortly afterward, Jasper had made his way down to the courtyard and stood on a platform overlooking the parade ground. The militia and the castle guard had assembled on the cobblestones. The more experienced soldiers had arranged the formation into a simple rectangle with ten rows of about twelve troops across. The old timers and professional fighters were placed at the front and rear as line leaders. This allowed the sergeants and officers to keep their columns in order and maintain cohesion.

  Jasper had been impressed by his veteran cadre, but the ragtag men and women before him now left much to be desired. The majority of them wore simple uniforms with light leather armor. They were armed with swords and daggers. The house guard wore signal horns in order to communicate with their comrades from the walls or in the field. The militia themselves looked concerned and not a little disheveled.

  “Good lord.” Jasper tried not to shake his head in disbelief. Despite the work the veterans had put into making them presentable, the men and women before him were a sorry sight. Most were skinny youngsters or folk too out of shape to be of much use. There were some with a clear bit of steel in their spine and at least some sense of duty and dignity. They tended to be the cleaner, healthier, and more attentive volunteers.

  “Yes ser,” Titus said quietly at his elbow. “I’m sad to say this is about as good as they can look at the moment.”

  “Training has been virtually nonexistent, you said?”

  “Correct,” Calian said from his opposite side. He subtly handed Jasper a small pad of paper with a charcoal pencil tied to the side. “Most of them are farmers, folk from The Vill in search of an easy meal, or travelers who needed coin and decided to stay.” Titus shrugged wearily.

  “We try Lord, but few enough are willing to put in the effort to become any kind of serious fighter, much less a soldier.” Jasper nodded and continued to contemplate the group.

  Knowing that the volunteers currently working as militia were in such poor shape physically and psychologically, Jasper had spoken at length with the knight during their walk around the grounds after meeting Benn, the orcish armsmaster. They had decided together that some kind of assessment for admittance into the Tower’s military would be necessary to have any kind of reliable combat force. When Calian arrived several minutes before inspection was scheduled to start, the pair outlined what they wanted to accomplish. The vampire took copious notes as was his wont and had disappeared to deliver the list of requests to the armsmaster. Titus stood dutifully by as Jasper stepped forward to address the crowd.

  “Good morning.” The veterans came to attention simultaneously with the jingle of mail and stomp of booted feet. The militia straightened a bit and paid heed. For some time, Jasper had been uneasy about what exactly to say to them. He had never been a public speaker before, despite some theater classes in school. He wracked his brain to think of what would mean something to these people. He blew out a long sigh. ‘I suppose introductions are as good a place to start as any,’ he thought. “As you may have heard, I am Jasper McKenna, the new Lord of the Tower.” He searched the faces below him. There was hunger, worry, boredom, and in a few, excitement. He decided to stick to the basics, as he had with Harla that first night. “One of the primary responsibilities of my position is the safety of this castle and the region as a whole. To ensure that, I need good men and women willing to take up weapons and defend others as well as themselves.

  “Ser Titus has informed me that we are sorely lacking in diligent training and experience as a military force. He is right.” Some of the militia looked disgruntled and others shrugged. “We must not continue in this vein. Armsmaster Benn, Ser Titus, and I will be constructing a thorough and rigorous training regime for those who wish to serve.” There were grumbles among the cohort and the line leaders snapped out orders to shut it and pay attention. “Those who wish to leave or fail to meet the required standards will not be allowed to serve as soldiers. I am sure there are other areas in which you may be of service if you wish to continue on at the castle. There are always positions for willing and talented hands.” More grumbling.

  “However!” Jasper raised a hand for quiet and at last they settled down. “Discipline will be enforced. I will not have those serving under me behave like lawless vagabonds with swords to terrorize those weaker than themselves. Any found to be violating the regulations and laws we set forth from now onwards will be punished according to their crime. I am not a tyrant, but I will not have it.” He paused, looking over the assembly before turning to the knight beside him. “Ser Titus, you have command.” The knight stepped forward and began issuing orders in the fashion of an experienced soldier.

  “Sergeants, file your troops to the barracks and prepare them for the tests. Master Benn will be waiting here in less than ten minutes to issue the initial tests to all applicants. Fall out and no lollygagging!” The veterans hastily took command of their units and marched them—with at least some urgency—to the barracks.

  “We will lose a lot to the set requirements,” Titus observed, watching them go. Jasper nodded.

  “Yes, but if we are to pose any kind of defense at all, we have to prepare now, or their first trial will be a fatal one. Those that fail but wish to stay on as staff or until they are fit will be allowed to do so. I won’t turn away willing hands simply because they are not yet strong enough.”

  “Are you sure you weren’t a commander in your own world, Lord?” Titus grinned.

  “Certain,” Jasper replied. “But I have read and seen enough of history to know that this group would, in fact, have trouble fighting its way out of a pig pen.”

  “Delgan does have a way with words,” Titus chuckled.

  “Hopefully he can use them to galvanize some of the poor bastards into becoming real warriors.”

  Unsurprisingly, a full third of the militia either failed the initial tests or decided fighting was not for them. Jasper held no rancor for these people and spoke with many of them throughout the assessments. Several were more than willing but were either too old or too weak to meet the demands placed on them. One young man looked ready to cry when he was unable to carry the heavy vest Benn had strapped to him. It was meant to mimic the weight of armor and a pack on a march, and he had only made three laps around the Keep before stumbling and sliding down against the inner wall. Jasper approached and put a steadying hand on his shoulder. He waved to a servant to bring water. A bucket and ladle were brought and he drank greedily.

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  “What is your name?” Jasper asked kindly. “How old are you?” The boy panted but sat up straighter.

  “I am Lukan, my Lord. From Weston. I’m seventeen winters.”

  “Hello, Lukan. That is quite a load you had there.”

  “I’m sorry, Lord,” he said, shaking his head and looking down at the vest he had let slide to the ground. “I thought ‘cause I was big and could wrestle my cousins I could make some kind of fighter, but—”

  “Oh, you have just not finished growing,” Jasper laughed good-naturedly. He was sure Lukan blushed, but it was hard to tell with his cheeks already red from exertion. “You still wish to serve?” Lukan nodded fervently.

  “I do, ser.”

  “Master Benn!” Jasper called.

  “Aye, Lord.” Benn limped over with his staff.

  “What would you say to keeping Lukan here on as a squire or arms page until he’s fit to become a soldier?” The large orc loomed over the human boy and thought for a moment, looking him up and down. Hope twinkled in Lukan’s green eyes.

  “He’s still a pup, Lord. But I believe he may have the heart of a warrior somewhere in that skinny chest of his—once I’ve got him into shape.”

  “Lord?” Lukan’s eyes widened, and he gasped in disbelief. “You mean it?”

  “I said I would find meaningful work for those who were willing, and I meant it.” Jasper smiled and offered the boy his hand. Lukan took it and stood up.

  “Thank you, my Lord.” Lukan ducked his head, and Benn gave him instructions to prepare obstacles and a makeshift climbing wall for the other aspirants. Lukan jumped to obey and eagerly followed the old warrior’s commands.

  “Any more you find like him I want kept as long as they’ll stay and we can house them,” Jasper told the orc.

  “Of course, Lord. The lad has heart, no doubt about that. I suspect he will make a good soldier someday.”

  Sadly, there were plenty of others who were not up to snuff. More than a few were in a foul mood to be turned away from their old positions. Benn and Titus’ stern faces granted few reprieves. At last, the entire cohort had been assessed, and they were assembled according to their ability. The majority of those who had failed left of their own accord, but a few like Lukan who showed desire to improve, remained. They were granted positions in the salle or guard barracks as pages.

  When all the tests were complete, Jasper invited the remainder of his militia into the Main Hall to take lunch. They were surprised by this but gladly accepted. By the look of many, they had not properly eaten in several days. Jasper also ascribed the weakened state of Lukan and several of the others to improper nourishment. This, at least, was something easily rectified.

  Harla and her kin set out a hearty meal of roast hams, fresh bread, and fruit picked from the gardens. She smiled at Jasper as she passed and he returned it. Her grin broadened and she winked, ushering away her staff to allow the crowd to eat. Calian and the house servants waited on the assembled tables. Jasper moved between the oaken slabs to ask after the names of those who remained, where they were from, their occupations, etcetera.

  “Eda, Lord, from The Vill,” said one woman. She smiled brightly as another plate of bread was passed down. She had fared well in most of the examinations, particularly the areas testing one’s strength. She was built like a solid ox, though her speed left much to be desired. “My father is a lumberman in the Greenwood, and I helped him for years working the trees with an axe.”

  “We are glad to have your arm,” Jasper grinned, patting her sturdy shoulder.

  “Thank you, ser,” she said around a large bite of bread.

  Jasper moved on and smiled at Lukan who ducked his head gratefully over his plate of food. The lord sat at one of the mostly empty tables to eat as well and waved for his advisors to come rejoin him. He called over Delgan as well, who had stepped into the role of cohort captain.

  “Observe their behaviors around one another and their superiors,” Jasper said quietly, watching the tables. “Those who show potential as leaders I want to be rewarded. Perhaps seconded to the current sergeants to be trained as corporals. Correct troublemakers if it is required, but gently. We want to grow a brotherhood here, not instill fear like Lerontis seems to have.”

  “Yes, Lord,” they nodded.

  “With that said, let’s get on with the day. I would like to get started on marching drill and practice them moving with squad cohesion before truly beginning weapons training.” He looked to Benn and Delgan with raised brows. “How does that sound?”

  “A good plan. It will help them work together before we start proper sword drills. What do you think, Captain?”

  “I agree,” Delgan nodded. “Start small, work up where they are able, transfer those individuals that show promise to where they are best suited.”

  “Good. I think I may join in with some of the tests as well.” Jasper eyed the rest of the cohort that was still going through the examination process. Benn, Delgan, and Titus exchanged looks and the older warrior coughed into his hand.

  “With all due respect, my Lord, I do not think that would be wise.”

  “Oh?” Jasper’s eyebrows knit and his forehead crinkled. “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, if you do undertake the tests and fail them, those that have not passed and were turned away may feel resentful,” Benn explained. “They may ask, ‘if he cannot pass, what right does he have to send us away?’”

  “Ah, I see what you mean.” Jasper chewed his lower lip, mulling the idea over. Of course, he could not attempt the trials and fail in front of his entire cohort. He could not very well be sent away; he was the Lord of the Tower. But what kind of message would that send? The appearance of a weak leader, whether true or a misunderstanding, could be poison to a man’s cause. Even without that, he was still only just recovered from a considerable blow to the head. Probably not the best idea to put his body through strenuous exercises. “We’ll keep to the basics then.”

  “Very good, ser,” Benn nodded. The orc instructor glanced over his shoulder in time to see a few squads lounging on the grass. “Speaking of which, I believe it is time to get back to it. My Lord. Master Calian, Ser Titus.” He nodded respectfully to each before performing an ambling about-face and nodded to Delgan. The captain promptly began bellowing commands to form up and get off their butts for the next round of training rotations.

  The veterans snapped to and followed his orders sharply, urging the others into place. Already, Jasper was seeing an improvement from the morning’s begrudging shuffle into at least an urgent desire not to be last. Being last meant getting a scolding, and that meant embarrassment in front of the entire cohort. It was a tried-and-true tactic used by instructors from Earth and the Ground Plane, apparently. No one enjoyed being told off in front of their peers.

  There were eight squads in total. To save room and allow the recruits to feel less cramped, Delgan gave orders to half of the cohort to march outside the walls. He led them to the nearby field to practice simple squad movements in formation until the recruits had gotten used to the proper pace and spacing required to maneuver in close proximity to one another. They carried on for several hours until the captain was content that the recruits would at least be able to move together without tripping over their or their comrades’ feet.

  Jasper watched with interest, memorizing the commands and movements as they marched. He knew it would be wise to understand the maneuvers. The young man realized with a slight start that he might be required to give the orders himself someday. That gave him a queasy feeling in his gut he did not like. When the other squads returned inside the walls and were preparing to dismiss for evening meal, Titus appeared at his elbow.

  “We’re almost done for today, Lord.”

  “I can see that,” Jasper nodded, blowing out a long breath. The knight’s brows knitted and he lowered his voice.

  “Everything alright, ser?”

  “The idea of actually leading people into battle is a bit daunting.” Jasper shook his head. “I never expected to be in this position.”

  “I never expected to meet someone who took to the role of Lord so naturally,” Titus commented. “Not a day of training to be a governor, and yet here you are.”

  “Turns out my incessant reading and obsession with history in my own world had a practical application after all,” Jasper snorted in wry amusement.

  “For which we are all extremely grateful,” said Calian from beside him.

  “Jeez!” His sudden appearance made Jasper jump. “You and Fern are like shadows!”

  “My apologies, Lord, it comes naturally.” The vampire inclined his head respectfully. “I have word from Cook Harla that she is ready to begin your lessons this evening.”

  “So soon?”

  “I believe her exact words were ‘if he is well enough to march around in armor all day, he is well enough to study.’” Calian’s lip twitched with the ghost of a smile.

  “I can’t say I argue with her logic,” said Jasper. “Alright, let’s head inside. I’m starved.”