Due

Ithilien, 3006 T.A.

The Captain had gone so far this morning as to not put on his tunic. Where will it end? thought Mablung, watching him pore over maps in preparation for the afternoon's patrol. After a little while, the young man nodded to himself, folded up the maps, and headed towards his office.

"Angbor," he called over his shoulder to one of the Rangers nearby, "could I have a word, please?"


The Captain gestured to Angbor to take the chair across from his desk. "Sit down, please," he said. Catching the other man's expression, he added, "There's nothing wrong."

The muscles in the man's jaw relaxed slightly.

The Captain took his own seat. "Now, he said, clapping his hands together, "I've gone over the leave rosters and made a few changes. Would you be able to set out for the City two days' hence?"

Angbor's jaw dropped. "Sir? Yes… Yes of course!"

"Good. I've also been able to extend your time away to a fortnight. If that would help?"

"It would, sir, very much, sir… thank you!"

"Good." The Captain frowned.

"Is there something else, sir?" Angbor said, warily, worry creeping into his voice.

"Yes…" The Captain reached into a pile of papers and drew out a piece of parchment. "I saw from your records that you became a ten year's man at the start of the year – is that right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now, as you know, the pay increment for ten years' service in the regular army doesn't extend to the Rangers…" The Captain's frown deepened. "I'll be taking that up with the Captain-General when I next see him. Not least because I'm due it soon..." He flashed a smile over to his Ranger, who looked back at him in alarm. "Anyway," the Captain went on, "I think I've seen a way. For seven years of that time you were in the City Guard. So I think we can argue that you should receive the increase in proportion to those seven years. It's hardly fair, but that's a conversation for another day."

Angbor, it seemed, had no words to offer.

"The point now," said the Captain, gently, "is that the paperwork is done…" he patted a stack of documents on his left hand, "and will go out with the rest of the messages this afternoon. I suspect we're too late to see any benefit this month, but it should be in place for next month. Which I hope will help."

Angbor shook his head. "I don't know what to say, sir."

"You don't have to say anything." The Captain leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "As a matter of interest, why did you come out to Ithilien?"

The ghost of a smile passed over the Ranger's face. "I've got five kids, sir."

The Captain laughed. "Yes, I can see how that might persuade a man to travel."

"But the real answer, if you want it, sir…"

"Yes, please."

"This is where my family lived. Before all this. This is where we're from."

The Captain nodded his understanding. "Yes," he said, softly. "My family too."

"Sir, I—"

"One last thing." The Captain reached across his desk for two small pieces of paper, each bearing his seal. "These are for your wife. The first she can take weekly to the quartermaster and collect some essentials from there. The second she can take to the Houses of Healing, if needs be."

Angbor stared down at the pieces of paper. Then he looked up at his commanding officer, and the Captain watched the war between pride and necessity on the other man's face. "Sir," said Angbor at last, "is this charity?"

"No, Ranger," said the Captain. "This is your due."


An hour or two later, Mablung went past the Captain's office, bearing a mug of ale and a plate of bread and cheese. He put these down on the desk next to the young man's hand. "This should keep you going."

The Captain peered up from his work, saw the plate and mug, and sighed. "You are a jewel among men."

"I am that."

The Captain fell upon the food ravenously. Forgets to eat, thought Mablung. I'll add that to the list. He watched the young man eat hurriedly, all the while scribbling away. There was a small pile of documents by his right hand that he seemed very anxious to get through. Mablung watched him finish the latest letter, seal it, and place it on top of the pile of other messages. Then he said, "You went to a lot of trouble on Angbor's account, Captain."

The Captain flashed him a sharp look. "Merely a question of finding out what needed to be written, and then writing it."

"Not easy for a man with few letters, sir."

"No, I imagine not." The Captain tapped his fingers against the desk. "We should do something about that."

"Not much call for it out here in Ithilien," said Mablung.

"There are benefits to being able to keep in regular touch with loved ones, Mablung," said the Captain.

Mablung's eye drifted across the desk, where a letter bearing the Steward's seal sat prominently. Or not, he thought. "You'll be hearing a lot more tales like that over the coming weeks, Captain."

"I'm sure I will." The Captain's shoulders fell. "I fear I may have set expectations for aid that I won't always be able to meet."

"That's possible. We'll see. But on the whole I think you'll do very well by us, sir."

The Captain's head was bent over yet another letter. "Good," he said softly, from behind the shield of his hand. "I think you'll all do very well by me."

The pile was gone – or, at least, shifted from one side of the desk to another. The Captain stood up and finished his ale. He clapped his hands together, looked round, and said, to himself, "What am I doing now… Oh yes."

Mablung watched as he pulled on his jerkin and sword belt, shouldered his pack, and picked up the parcel of messages to hand over. He followed the Captain out into the refuge. Yes, he thought, I think you'll do very well indeed.


Altariel, 2nd August 2018