War of Old and New

About warnings. I'm not sure what to warn you about but if there is something nasty I'll let you know before the text. =)

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War of Old and New


”This is Johan Nord and the reason I have assembled you here this morning.”

Frail Odensson stood in front of his platoon, dark eyes watching as his Captain explained the reason for the more or less secret meeting. His platoon and him had been roused in the middle of the night, he from his officers room and them from their barracks. All thirty-two of them stood together with two other platoons in the main hall of Icencourt Fortress in neat rows. He himself as Second Lieutenant, and the two in charge of the other platoons, had nervously waited for fifteen minutes before greeting the Captain.

Said officer had arrived with an escort of four military police soldiers and one civilian. The civilian had just been introduced as Johan Nord and Frail couldn’t help the frown building on his face. This is all very shady. His red hair was tousled with sleep, already too long according to army regulation and naturally wild it was impossible to tame in those few minutes they’d had to get here in.

Captain Whelsson was a tall woman, pale blond hair pulled tightly back into a bun, and she always seemed to have a scowl on her face. She now paced slowly in front of them, the white military shirt tucked into the similar grey pants they all wore.

“He has been one of three apprentices to the governor’s physician for almost two years now. A smart and handsome guy some of the maids in the castle says...” The Captain paused to send a sharp glare to the object of her speech. This Johan Nord simply smiled back at her, seemingly unaffected.

He’s got balls at least. Whoever he is.

The guy really was handsome. Dark brown hair with soft waves in them, tall and probably fit underneath his dark robes. Bright eyes, though it was impossible to see what color they were from Frail’s spot. Good proportions.

Human. Not like me.

Though Frail was among the tall men of Icencourt he’d always been a bit shunned for his looks. He was different. His hair wasn’t blond or brown like most northerner’s but red and his eyes weren’t bright and soft but dark and unforgiving. When summer briefly passed through the county he only got freckles and a rosy burn if he stayed out too long in the sun. Most others got a healthy tan.

“Now listen up.” The Captain whipped around to face them again and Frail unconsciously straightened up. He’d missed a long part of her speech by zoning out. That’s what you get from being rushed from your bed in the middle of the night…

“Johan Nord is now a former spy from you-won’t-know-unless-I-say-so becomes necessary. What is important is that he has now converted into our service.”

Small gasps were heard throughout the rows of soldiers and Frail himself felt his jaw slacken at the information. A spy? That guy?. The guy was pretty handsome but he did not look like spy material. Or maybe it was those robes that made him look less intimidating, but he still couldn’t tell from here.

“He’ll need to go to the King’s court to fill out some forms, be marked by the court mage and some other wonderful things a spy will have to go through.” She obviously wasn’t pleased about this arrangement, whatever it was, and Frail couldn’t help but feel curious. Usually spies to the kingdom were dealt with rather swiftly and painfully when they were found out. “Now he’s not much of a threat, we’re told, but we can’t let former spies run around and do as they please. Also there is the possibility of his former employers finding out and try to do something about it.”

Frail shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Just get to the point.

“So, I need one officer and a pair of soldiers to escort him to the royal city as requested by the governor himself…So, any voluntaries?” She asked, looking over the crowd.

So, a babysitting mission…

Frail could almost taste the dislike from those around him. No one wanted such a mission. But my brother is in the capital. In Silverheim. It was almost two years since he’d last seen his brother, the winter after he’d been transferred to the royal guard through some twist of fate. He’d hugged Frail and told him that he’d be back to visit as soon as he could. That had been two years ago and twelve short and badly written letters ago.

Bastard.

“I’ll go Captain.” He spoke up, breaking the heavy silence in the hall and he could practically feel all eyes turn to him. Looking up he met the now curious gaze of the spy, a faint smile still playing over his face.

“Very good Second Lieutenant Odensson, now choose your soldiers for the escort.” She nodded towards him and held up three fingers. Frail glanced over his shoulder to briefly look over his soldiers. Three of them. The trip to the capital would take a few weeks and he couldn’t ignore the possibility of a threat even if it was small. And someone to guard the spy in case he changed his mind.

“Meda, Sign and Heather.”

“Very well, you will pack and meet up in front of the main gate in one hour. Move out.” The Captain nodded towards Frail and his platoon and he and his chosen three saluted and moved out. “And the rest of you cowards, don’t think you’ve gotten off easy. Oh no, I’ll make you wish you took that assignment.”
Frail smiled as he hurried towards the exit.


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One hour later he stood by the gate together with his three chosen soldiers. Jonas Meda and Jimmy Sign, Jo and Jim, were the best battle pair in his platoon. They worked perfectly together, quick, effective and quite deadly. The two were like twin brothers, both shorter and smaller than Frail despite being three years older, and were seldom seen apart. The third soldier was Flower Heather also called Flo. Her parents where worshippers of the old nature god Ve and had named her thereafter. She was anything like a flower. Taller than Frail by a few inches, wide shoulders and a fist powerful enough to kill, she was a dangerous warrior.

Frail was an averagely skilled warrior but his strength lay in strategy and planning. He had an uncanny ability to predict enemy movement and strategy, even if it was just exercise. It was his passion for exceeding that had him advance as fast as he was able to in the ranks. At first and through most of his military service, before he chose to continue working for the military, he’d struggled with his physique. His body having a hard time to build up muscle as fast as his fellow soldier's did.

Glancing between his soldiers he took note of their tired expressions and hunched up shoulders. It was cold during night now, fall was nearly at an end, and the sun had yet to rise at this early hour. The backpack rested heavy on his shoulders, the feeling was unfamiliar after his half a year as an officer.

“Are you guys with me?” he asked, voice sounding a lot more secure than he felt. They all looked at him, Jo and Jim breaking into a grin.

“Of course, Sir.” They answered in union. Flo nodded his way, a gentle smile passing over her lips. Calm and collected. She had calmed his nerves many times when he was new in his role as Second Lieutenant, even now as he was worrying about this odd mission her smile calmed his thoughts.

“It’ll be good to get out of here” Jo added in afterthought, tugging on his jacket.

A squeaky sound made them all turn around to see a horse and wagon being lead towards them together with a second horse lead by another soldier. They pulled up to them and the Captain jumped down from her previous seat on the wagon. It was a caravan one, a simple pale grey, pulled by a strong-looking brown horse. The second horse was also brown, a little smaller than the first, with a few white patches.

“Here we are, your very first-class transportation, Odensson.” She said, offering one of her rare smiles. “A horse to ride, for yourself or whoever you choose.” From behind the wagon the spy walked up to them, flanked by a soldier, still wearing the same dark robes as before. He looked a little less smug this time.

“Thank you Captain, this is good.” He answered, shrugging off his backpack and handing it to Jo quickly telling him to load up. His soldiers was handed the wagon from the other soldier, Jim and Jo climbing on to store their packs.

“I take it you have the mission details?”

He nodded.

“Good, now take care of our spy and hurry back Second Lieutenant.”

“I will Captain.” Frail knew that the smile she still had was as good as a hug 'good luck' he'd get from his senior officer and smiled in return before saluting. The Captain turned around and her soldiers followed, leaving only the five of them in the yard. The usually crowded place felt large and alien now that it was empty.

“Well she’s one hell of a woman, no?” The voice was smooth, low and intimate and Frail realized that the spy-

What was his name? Johan something.

-had spoken to him. Frail turned around and found those bright eyes, now grey in the dark, curiously meeting his own. A little behind him, holding the reins of the second horse, stood Flo.

“I wouldn’t know.” He answered slowly; a little uncertain of what was referred to and how he was to treat this person. If he was a spy, or former, was he a bad person? Did it matter? The horse behind them snorted.

“No? My mistake then. I’m Johan.” And he held out his hand, that smile back on his face again and Frail wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. The first impulse was to reach out and grab the offered hand, something about the man was inviting and now up close he realized they were similar in length. Maybe he was a little wider across the shoulders, but that robe hung from them like a drape hiding the rest of whatever body he might have.

“I know, now get on the wagon.” He brushed past the other, choosing to ignore the hand and deciding that he didn’t like spies. Taking the reins he swung up into the saddle. Adjusting the stirrups he glanced over to the spy again, surprised to see the previous smile having turned into a grin. Frail swallowed, a little unnerved.

“What?” he couldn’t help but ask, silently cursing the slip of his tongue and curiosity.

“So young but yet so tough.”

“Shut up bastard, just get on.” He snapped, more angry over the fact that he still reacted to those kind of taunts than the actual comment. People always thought he was younger than his actual age. Maybe he was, he wasn’t sure how the body of a half-breed functioned. It was well known that elves lived for much longer than humans but it was different for half-elves. Some lived even shorter than an average human, a few almost as long as a full blooded elf.

Flo helped the spy onto the wagon, settling onto the wooden seat after stealing the reins from Jo and forcing him back. For a moment Frail recalled a memory from his childhood when he’d seen a family with four children fighting for the best seat on a wagon. This didn’t look much like a prisoner(or whatever he was) transport and he was glad that the captain had left earlier so she didn't see this.

“This will be great Frail, like a road trip to the capital, no?” Jim called out from the wagon, and despite not being able to see him Frail could still imagine the grin on his face. Probably a mirror image of that on Jo’s face. He urged the horse forward and soon after the wagon started rolling. Falling in behind him.

“Frail?” came the questioning voice from Johan and he could feel those bright eyes burning holes into his back. “Is that your actual name? How old are you anyway, 16? 17?”

Freaking bastard.

“Jim, Jo, place our guest inside the wagon so he’ll be... safe from harm.” He ordered, biting his own tongue to keep himself from snapping at the idiot. At least the others couldn’t see the building anger on his face.

“Ok, Sir. Will do.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. I just want to get to know… hey!”

Frail sighed and knew that this would not be great. That feeling was like a soft pressure between his shoulder blades, almost not there but still there enough to not be ignored. No, this doesn’t feel like it’ll be great…


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too much? too little? too fast?
=?