Chapter 40 - Sebastian

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Three and a half days after leaving the gilded gates of Sundale, they arrived at Whitepeak base. With the cold wind that blew through their cloaks and chilled the iron of their swords, they might as well have travelled three moons in time. Back home, farmers had been heeding the call of the planting moon. In the shadow of the Horseshoe Mountains, winter reigned supreme.

The place smelled of decay, of water that had sat still for far too long. The years of negligence were apparent. The army sent thousands of gold coins to Whitepeak each year, but the ruinous barracks revealed the money had been used for other purposes than to give the soldiers and officers a decent roof over their heads.

He resisted the urge to go exploring. Staying close to Bart, Sebastian inspected the handful of men patrolling the cells that had been carved into the mountain, the cells where the army kept the magicians. Everyone wore green uniforms, not grey. And even if George had abandoned the sacred tradition that a General should wear grey, none of the men walked with the same grace as he did.

From two houses, half-hidden in the low clouds, rose plumes of dark smoke. Could George be in either of these buildings?

A tall man with an unkempt beard and hair poking in every direction as though he had just woken up from a nap shouted at them from the wooden construction that resembled a stable. "We don't take visitors. Who are you lot?"

"Three new recruits, Lieutenant," Bart said calmly. "My Captain should have sent a pigeon to inform you of our arrival."

"Who is your Captain?" the man asked.

"Jonathan. We're from Sundale."

"I know who Jonathan is," he sneered. The Lieutenant muttered some profanities under his breath as he came closer. "I am not aware of any new recruits. But the more, the merrier, even when they look like they have just crawled out of their mother's womb. What did these bastards do to deserve a trip to our lovely base?"

"Dan and Eric." Bart pointed at the two soldiers. "They thought it funny to light a tent on fire with people sleeping inside. Nobody died but one Cadet had to leave the army on medical grounds. The Captain reckoned six moons at Whitepeak would teach them the lesson they deserve."

The Lieutenant grunted a nod. "And the other one?"

"Extreme disobedience and defiance," Bart said with a straight face. He turned towards the other man and whispered loud enough for Sebastian to hear. "He's the son of a wealthy trader. The Captain wanted to kick him out, but they came to...well... this arrangement."

"Six moons also?"

"Or as long as you see fit." Bart smiled. 

He played the role well. A tad too well for Sebastian's liking, even though he realised that their stories had to sound realistic and not suspicious. Army men were dropped off at Whitepeak on a regular basis, from all over the country; punishment for men who had stepped out of bounds, but not so much they were fired from the army. Having powerful relatives or valuable skills helped sway the Captain in charge as well. And then there were those who preferred a lifetime of servitude instead of death. Sebastian couldn't imagine staying at this base for the rest of his life.

He startled as two rough hands grabbed him and slammed him against the saddle of his mount. The stallion whinnied but stayed put. 

"Fresh meat." The man grinned beneath his heavy moustache. He had four sycamore leaves on his collar; he was Captain Frank. The Captain Frank. "Your strutting days are over, Cadet. I'll make you squeal and eat your food off the ground like the worthless pig you are." 

Sebastian let the words wash over him. He knew better than to think they were empty threats, but the worst day up here was still a better day than what he had seen in Laneby.

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