The Everburning City

Act 1, Part 5, Chapter 8

"We were just getting to know each other," Gwendolyn replied.

"Anwen Poe might have the fastest hands on a Salamander in the City. Good soldier, and unlike you and yours, she had to fight to earn her place in my company," Captain Dremora said. "Up until I met Inspector Marrel, I would have wondered where you came by that strength of yours."

"My strength?"

"Not quite the right word," the captain mused. "Resolve is closer, but it doesn't fully encompass the idea. When I was talking to Valen's former captain, before the two of you arrived, I wasn't asking much about Redgrave. Even before the invasion, I knew his name. Captain Orelli said the man was poorly used in his current position, and that we had no way to measure how good he was with the sword. I still wonder who taught him, and where he learned it from."

"Then who were you asking about?" Gwen asked.

The captain continued as if she hadn't spoke. "Redgrave is a superb soldier. More than his skill with a sword, he has that level head that only comes from being comfortable with being in danger. He knows how competent he is, and he knows what being afraid feels like. That combination means he'll see a fight most people run from, and win."

Gwen's thoughts went back to the Last Wall, on a causeway where, just last night, she had fully expected to die.

"You know what I'm talking about," the captain said, and something in his gaze suggested he knew where Gwen's thoughts had taken her. "But he froze up, when he came into a fight he didn't know how to win."

Gwendolyn shook her head. "He went from the wall, into the field, to save us when the Golem came."

"Not that fight. A Golem isn't an ash-bitten fight, unless you're Garland Kohl. It's more like disaster relief. The fight I'm talking about happened with his sergeant, and his lieutenant."

Recalling that betrayal felt like a punch to the gut. It was a fight she knew Valen hadn't been expecting. Knew it was a fight the man could never have foreseen. A man as good as Valen, or a warrior raised in disciplined schooling, would not believe people could indulge the kind of cowardice Sergeant Ewanmourn embodied, or imagine the ruthlessness they'd descend to in the cause of self-preservation. In that fight, Valen had been little more than a condemned prisoner, until Gwen had managed to pull Captain Orelli into it.

"You're the one who won that fight. True, you broke Captain Orelli's company to do it, and as angry as Major Othwald was about that, my own opinion is it's better we found out now how brittle they really were. And I wondered where you found the strength to know you could do that."

"And you think you know, now?" Gwen asked.

"You and the ghost we left back in Barleybarrel have made that fairly clear. Now, of everyone I've pulled into the Rangers since this invasion began, there are three people I have a great deal of hope for. Valen is a superb soldier because he knows what he's capable of, in a way only someone schooled in martial discipline can know. Your new lieutenant has finally been given a theatre to apply her extremely gifted tactical mind. Do you know who the third is?"

Gwendolyn didn't answer, though she suspected she knew.

"It's the woman who knows how to keep fighting through hopeless situations. Who knows how much doing the right thing can hurt," Captain Dremora finished.

Gwendolyn found she couldn't meet the captain's eyes. "Still hoping for the future, sir?"

"No. You're part of my hope for surviving this invasion."

The air around her suddenly felt very, very cold. Few people would know the City's chances quite like Captain Dremora, and hope wasn't something people look for when things were going well.

"Now, let's go see the young man you escorted here." Captain Dremora pointed over to Benden Tammerlane, who was in the middle of a throng of Rangers, happily handing out supplies and smiling for all the world like it was his birthday.

"He's a boy, who really ought to be in school."

"Calling him a boy suggests he's a child. Children don't walk into danger, knowing how they can help," the captian disagreed. "You would know that better than most. What is his name?"

"Benden Tammerlane."

The captain marched ahead, and the Rangers receiving supplies stood aside for him. He approached the boy, and loomed over him in a way that reminded Gwen of the Golem standing behind the wall. "What all did you bring, soldier?"

"Captain," the boy said, struggling between trying to imitate a soldier's salute and gaping in awe. "I brought water, and extra salamander rounds."

The captain frowned, and glanced down at the pack by Ben's feet. "Mister Tammerlane, I will expect you to do better next time."

"Sir?" Gwendolyn asked. She didn't voice the question alone, several of the Rangers standing nearby did so. Including the Ranger she had threatened a minute ago.

"The ammunition should have been packed above the water, with a cloth of some kind to separate the two," the captain continued. "Salamander rounds are normally water tight, barring a manufacturing defect. Which happens in roughly one of every hundred rounds. Water getting inside the casing has caused them to detonate before."

Benden's head slumped down, for a moment. But Gwen had a sense that the boy had some fire and steel somewhere below that bad haircut and angry eyes, and wasn't surprised when his head went back up and he met the captain's gaze without flinching. "Yes, sir."

"I don't expect to see this mistake again, when you carry supplies next."

And suddenly, Gwen understood what the captain was doing. Young man, the captain had insisted on calling him. Not 'boy'. A mark of respect, to refuse to indulge even someone so young.

There was no surer sign of respect than having expectations of someone.

"No sir. I won't," Benden said, and Gwen knew that promise was as solemn as any the boy had ever made.

"Your next assignment is to escort Corproal Aranhall and Sergeant Redgrave back to Barleybarrel. Their comrades will be our next line of defence, when the Gloamtaken reach the town. Assist the squads there in distributing supplies, and help make sure there are no civilians where they shouldn't be. Particularly in the buildings on the north side of town, facing out into the fields."

"Yes, sir!" Benden shouted, enthusiastically enough that Gwen winced. He attempted a soldier's salute, holding his right fist in front of his heart with a single thump.

"Two taps, soldier. Like your heartbeat," Captain Dremora said, and demonstrated it by striking his chest with his fist. "It's you telling me, and the City, that you'll fight as long as you're still alive."

There was no mediocrity in tribulation. There was only those who faltered, and those who carried on. Gwendolyn wondered, to herself, what many of the people around her might become, if they survived this invasion.

"Corporal Aranhall and Sergeant Redgrave, you'll be accompanying Mister Tammerlane back," the captian said, and an odd grin spread on his face. "Speaking of which, where is Sergeant Redgrave?"

Gwendolyn turned towards the fighting, already knowing the answer.