Roger recovers from his wounds as he tries to inspire the men and women under his command. To his surprise, Kallen acquires food and drink worthy of a send off. Making the most of their last night alive, the human members of the Leopards use the time as they see fit. Roger and Davie make a discovery that could affect Eldar-Human relations, others use the time to advance their "relations", while the serjeant tries to soothe a certain Eldars fears. But as the twin suns of Haikk rise, Roger and the lads find themselves quickly called to action...
"Where's the fairness?" Roger asked, sitting next to Helene.
"What?"
"How come I got torn up and lost part of a finger, and you didn't get as much as a scratch?"
"Cadian luck."
"I guess being born on a planet sized fort means you have to get something out of it," Davie said with a snort.
Roger was sitting with the other humans in the unit, trying to figure out what the hell had happened last night. From what he could gather, when the explosion happened, the ones watching him and Helene had been in cover, and were able to get out as soon as the shock wore off. They all then dragged Roger off to Evita and Bob, and from what he was hearing, that he was alive was miraculous, let alone standing and walking.
"You were dripping like a sieve," Parky said.
"Well, I think you've all learned that I'm pretty hard to kill."
"Unfortunately some days," Hawke said, earning a reproving slap from Helene of all people.
"He kept me alive, he's good in my book. He already kinda was, but now it's official."
"Meh," Bob shrugged.
"You're a bloody miracle worker Bob, and you too Evita. Don't think I don't know."
"Well, were it not for the rest of our comrades being afraid of needles, I would not have been so involved."
"Think about it this way, Sarge, you got some holy blood in you now. You're gonna be fine!"
"Thank you Parky."
He tried to hide his smirk as he watched Evita's face turn crimson from the compliment.
"Well, now that we're all here, I'm going to tell you all the plan from here on out. From what Kallen and the others tell me, Edmund and the rest of our lads are set up just ahead of us. We're sitting on the edge of our armies left wing, and it's looking like we're fighting tomorrow. I won't lie to you all, our odds aren't great. Our friends are going to sit this one out for a variety of reasons, and I don't want any of you trying to drag them into it. We're going to relax and get ready for that today, and judging by the time, we should already be getting supper."
He looked around at the others, seeing a mix of resignation and professional firmness.
"Make your last vows, wills, requests, whatever. You got at least one more night no matter what happens next, so make the most of it. Any questions? Comments? Concerns?"
No response, just as he expected.
"We're in it now, lads. And lasses. For now, do what you need to do, put your affairs in order, and get ready to fight tomorrow. Dismissed."
Accepting the orders, they moved as a group back towards the main camp. He waited for them to go on ahead a bit before deciding to follow. He rubbed face, both in exhaustion and agony over having possibly damned them all.
"I thought it was a very fitting speech," Anya said as she appeared from the leaves and foliage of the woods around them.
"Really? I thought it was bloody terrible."
"You are too harsh on yourself, Roger. As you said, a Guardsman's duty is to die."
"Did I say that? Because the only ones who believe that are the bastards behind the lines sending us all out to get killed."
"If you are going to die fighting, I doubt any of your comrades would wish to do anything less than the same."
"How do your kind handle making decisions like this?"
"Fate merely deigns who lives and dies. If it is our time, it is so. The Seer council grieves the loss of our people, but if it is for the greater good and defense of the innocent, or Ducaish itself, then it is a worthy cause."
"It's better to die for the Craftworld than live for yourself," Roger said amusingly.
"Correct."
"Maybe one day I will meet a species or group that thinks a single life is worth something. Not important or high ranking ones I mean. There must have been a time where that was possible."
"Sadly, it is not ours."
"Yeah. I forgot to ask, where did Kallen go? And why do I have a feeling that it has something to do with the Wave Serpents also being gone?"
"I am unsure. I can not read his thoughts," she said before pausing and slipping into thought. "To speak truth, I am thankful for that."
"He is certainly different."
"He is displeased that you refuse to allow him or any of our warriors to assist you. I do not understand myself."
He sighed, tired of having to constantly explain himself.
"This is our fight. Human. We're here to bring this hellhole back into the Imperium. Have you and your kin helped me and our cause? Yes, of course, and I will never say anything less. But this now personal, this is Anglerre, this is honor. We need to show the Imperium we can fight and win, even if the odds are completely and utterly against us. We also need to prove that we don't need to rely on outside help, even if it's appreciated. But I will never ask for any of the Asuryani to die for a struggle not their own. You wouldn't ask the same of me, and I will not of your kin."
She stopped walking alongside him, and he stopped as well before turning to her. Before he could say anything, she grabbed under his arms and lifted him up so they now looked eye to eye.
"I would be willing to fight and die for you."
He swallowed, seeing the fire in her eyes. There may have been something otherworldly in there, but he wasn't going to dig into it.
"I know. And I… would for you as well."
He could feel her slightly tremble at the answer, and she pulled him towards her. To his surprise, it wasn't a kiss, but a deep embrace, tighter than the one earlier that day.
"I am pleased to hear that. More than you can ever imagine."
His feet were slightly dangling off the ground. Emperor on Terra, was she tall! Not that he was against that, not in the slightest, but still, it was a bit embarrassing.
"Hey Anya?"
"Yes Roger?"
"Can you let me down? My arms are starting to hurt."
"Mine are not, and I am holding you."
"Point taken, but you aren't human."
"And thank Isha for that," she said before letting him back down. "Shall we return to camp and see if Kallen has returned?"
"Sure. How's Steryn doing?"
"She has been focused on her art. She was drawing the explosion from last night when I left her."
"I'll have to check that out. Wonder what it was like, I was too busy getting shredded by metal to look."
"How is your finger?"
"Still missing."
"Hilarious. I meant pain wise."
"As I said, Bob and Evita did a good job. And I can still wield a sword with little issue. All in all, it could have been worse."
"I will find some way to right this wrong," Anya said quietly.
"Pardon?"
"Nothing. In the interest of keeping our relationship a secret, I depart. We will meet again tonight."
'Of course. Until then."
As soon as she spoke, she had already vanished. He had to admire her unnatural ability to disappear at a whim. He wished he could do that sometimes. He was soon in the center of the impromptu camp, Avengers and Scorpions milling about, seeming to do little. Not that he had much room to complain, what were he and the lads doing? He went over to his rucksack, left the previous night, and thankfully kept dry under a piece of canvas that provided the ersatz tent he had spent last night and most of the day in. No sooner had he started to arrange his belongings that he felt a sudden wind at his back. Confused, he turned around to find the Wave Serpents finding a suitable landing place. It always amazed how quiet they were, and how skilled their pilots were, landing in a barely accessible spot with nary a correction. The rear door on the lead vehicle opened, revealing a Scorpion standing at the entrance. He stepped out confidently and noticed him.
"Roger! Khaine's blood, I was told you would not recover for a few days!"
"Well, of all Eldar, you should know I am damn hard to kill Kallen," he said, grasping the proffered hand and receiving a pat on the back.
"I have brought gifts."
"Oh?"
"In my boundless largesse, I have… acquired a few items that are fitting for a farewell. My kind and yours will appreciate it, I assure you."
"Do tell."
Kallen waved him in, and found casks and what seemed to be tubs.
"And this is?"
"Inebriating drinks, and the bounty of harvests on Ducaish."
"Oh dear. I don't know if I have the power to refuse such an offer."
"It is more of a demand."
Roger laughed and nodded.
"Well, if I have no choice…"
XXXXXX
The suns had set now, and the campfire roared as Davie slurred and stumbled through the third war story of the night.
"...so Rog decides to take up on his architecture studies, and the rest of us, having nothing better to do, decide to follow him. So he's looking around as we're praying no one on the bloody walls notices us. He then goes through this tunnel, dark as hell, with only his little flashlight, none of us knowing he did that. Fifteen minutes later, he comes out, pale as a ghost, and tells us to follow him. We get to the end of the tunnel, and find a hole you could squeeze through. He tells us to follow, and we pop out right in the bloody city! As it turns out, these bloody morons had their water come in that way and never sealed it up right. So we tell Sir Fitzwood, and he tells Edmund. He makes a distraction at the front, and we open the hole a bit. Imagine the faces of those poor bastards when they suddenly see five hundred of us charging at them from the back. Took the whole city in a few hours, and that's how this little bugger, Emperor bless him, became the Hero of Sanctuary."
All of the Leopards were circled around, eating, drinking, or listening to the gruff soldiers stories. Moire turned to Roger questioningly.
"Is that true?"
"Well, I only stuck my head in the hole. Honestly, given his normal ability to embellish stories, he was fairly accurate."
"I can back that up," Hawke said, taking a swig of the wine Kallen brought as Helene rested her head on his shoulder.
Kallen had somehow, through ways Roger thought best not to ask about, gotten casks of wine that had been acquired by the Craftworld off a Corsair. The Eldar, never one to accept human tastes as anything but barely palatable, had let the stores age to perfection through sheer ignorance and inability to decide what to do with it. But one Scorpion had finally found a use for it.
"Aye," Bob said.
"Not me, that was before my time," Parky said.
"Oh, I remember when you first arrived. Poor little thing you were, scared out of your mind and sent to the wrong regiment. We fixed you up, didn't we!"
"He seems to have found a… interesting group of friends," Evita said, choosing her words carefully.
"You humans age too quickly," Kallen said with slight disappointment. "Far too much for my liking."
"Well, with juvenat treatments, it can help," Helene said, also slurred, but not as bad as Davie.
Roger nodded, taking another bite of the food provided. It was quite good, even if it was mostly vegetables. He seemed to remember being told that the Eldar only ate such foods, no meat. Or maybe that was wrong or lied to.
"Bloody Eldar," he whispered.
"Pardon?" Kallen asked.
"Nothing. What are you all drinking? It doesn't look like wine."
"It is not," Alax said from behind. "It is Xhystr."
"The hell is that?"
"It is made from fruits grown in the gardens of our Craftworld. It is digestible by humans, if you wish to try. I have offered it enough times to your species and the results were never anything terrible."
"Is it intoxicating?"
"Yes."
"Apologies Kallen," Roger scoffed, "But what kind of human would accept such a- for Thrones sake Davie, at least pretend to be uninterested."
Nodding in thanks, the veteran took a swig of the drink, smacked his lips a couple times, and widened his eyes.
"Kallen, how strong is that stuff?"
"Compared to the wine, not very."
"Rog," he said, offering the cup to Roger. "You need to try this."
Taking the cup with care, he took a sip, hoping for the best. Lowering it from his lips, he blinked and snapped his head towards Davie.
"Holy hell, that tastes like-"
"Cider. Bloody. Cider."
"It's very good."
"Aye," he said with a laugh. "Do you have any more of this stuff? We'll take it."
"Plenty, and of course. We… all wish that if fate decides this is your last night by our sides, let it be pleasant."
A few mumbles of agreement came from the warriors around them. Taking canteen tops, cups, or anything that would substitute, the human members of the unit accepted the strangely familiar drink. Even Evita was curious enough to try, but still maintaining the aura of a holy warrior and controlling Parky's intake. Davie was surprisingly able to manage himself as well, the only failures in that respect being Hawke and Helene. It went from slight affection to PDA to the point it amused even the hardiest of the Eldar around them. Kallen and Moire had told at least one story each before the two excused themselves and stalked off into the forest. Moire, having completed one of her tales nodded at Roger.
"Finds a way," Bob grumbled.
"Aye,' Davie answered. "Moire, I must say, I would not have expected you to have done such a thing."
"It is fairly easy, with our appearances and abilities, to ensnare one of your kind and make them see our position."
"As long as you don't use your weird skills on me, I'll have no issue," he said, raising a cup in a toast.
"Cheers," the rest of humanity around the fire said.
"Well, I think we should wrap it up soon," Roger said. "I'll allow the rest of you to eat, and a bit more drink. Enough to warm your spirits, but at a level you can fight with no issues tomorrow. Any questions?"
"Nope. Man has to know his limitations," Davie chortled.
"Well, I wanted to say something to you all, and I think it's the best time to."
He stood up and looked around at the various Eldari around him and cleared his throat.
"I am… not one for speeches. I hardly know all of your names. I wish we could have served together longer. But I wanted to let you all know, I am beyond honored by your service. You have been invaluable to me, my comrades, and the forces of the Imperium. Whatever reason or ability you saw to allow that, I thank you for it. I do not know how to properly show my appreciation, or if you really want it. The best I can offer is that should the worst come tomorrow, that your long lives have at least fond memories of our service together, and the next time you face enemies similar to us, you think of our time fondly, and do not shed blood with no abandon or thought. Thank you."
A few nods or mumbles followed. He hated speeches, but looking at Kallen and Moires faces, he did the right thing, and said it well.
"Nice speech Rog, but I dunno why Abhumans would rebel."
"It… hell with it, cheers," he said, offering it to Davie and the two, who accepted.
"Whatever comes tomorrow, we'll-"
He stopped and turned towards where the army was encamped. There was a noise coming from it. Soft, but growing. It was singing. The Eldar, a race attuned to music or emotion, all turned to face it.
"Al fons de la prada,
I a'n pibol traucat:
Lo cocut i canta,
Benlèu i a nisat."
"Gascs," Davie said. "Se chanta."
"What is it they are singing about?" Alax asked.
"Old song from Oxitania. Love song. Singing to their sweethearts, but the mountains are too high. But the mountains are what makes their lands home, so not only is it about their loves, but homesickness as well. They sing it a lot, before battles especially. Maybe more than Lo Lop. Shame, because that's a better song."
"Se canta, que cante,
Canta pas per ieu,
Canta per ma mia,
Qu'es al luènh de ieu."
The song came on the wind, started by one or two voices, then joined in by many. Soon the forests echoed with the voices of homesick Guardsmen from Gasceaux. But just as it seemed depressing, it picked up and became almost a different song entirely.
Se sabèvi las véder,
On las rencontrar,
Passarí l'aigueta
Shens paur de'm negar.
Aquelas montanhas
Que tan nautas son,
M'empachan de veire
Mas amors ont son."
Then, as quickly as it started, it ended. Roger thought to say something, but he realized that it was a better send off than he could have imagined.
"I need to be alone for a little bit. Davie, you take command. Evita, make sure he stays in line."
"Piss off," Davie laughed as Evita bowed in acceptance.
He nodded to the Eldar he passed and started going through the foliage, trying to get through it to the other side. He wanted to see the army encamped on the ridge, where the singing had come from. He nearly tripped on a few things, and suddenly realized he may have been drunker than he thought. After nearly falling flat on his face a few times, he finally was able to see the edge of the forest. But then he heard a strange noise, something primal, panting. He slowly drew his sword, greased so it would be drawn silently, and spun around, looking for the noise. He nearly stopped breathing, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He heard the panting again, and started moving towards it, barely making a noise as he did so. He finally got enough courage for a challenge.
"Who goes there?"
The panting stopped, and what sounded like whispering. He was alert before, now he was starting to feel panic. Then, behind a log, a head popped up.
"Boss?" Hawke asked.
He was sweaty, almost exhausted.
"Bloody hell. Sorry. I was trying to get out of here. Are you all right?"
"Uh, w-well, yeah."
"You in the middle of… something?"
Another head popped up. To his displeasure, it was Helene.
"Yeah, me. What the fuck do you want?"
"Uh… nevermind. You two enjoy yourselves."
"If it's my last day of my goddamn life, I'm going swinging," she said before lowering herself as she wrapped her arm around Hawkes neck and pulled him down.
"Carry on."
"Boss."
XXXXXX
He wasn't as sweaty as they were, but dammit if he didn't feel gross. It's not that he was sheltered or had avoided such things all his life, it was impossible, but he had never… imbibed in such things. Had he been tempted? Of course. He had tried to avoid any interest or getting into any situations with any type of female that would lead to disaster. Avoiding prostitutes, newly made widows in the camp followers ranks, and a traumatizing situation with a Catachan that saw him chained to a bed and only saved by the quick actions of Davie and the others at the time, a story he prayed to the Emperor that would never, ever be repeated in action or verse. He was as pure as the snow on the plains of Susich in January. Fortunately, his type of woman had been rare or near impossible to find. He stepped out and saw the hundreds of glittering lights on both sides. Two armies, spending what little moments of peace they had before tearing each other apart.
"Can't win, eh Roger?" he said to himself.
"I believe you have done quite well so far."
It had taken a while, but he had finally found a woman that checked all his boxes. Unfortunately, she was a bloody Xenos.
"In the long run, yes."
"I noticed Helene and Hawke. Cadians are very… loose, morally. I can attest from experience."
"How so?"
"I have observed them before. I believe when one lives on a planet as violent and miserable as theirs, a chief objective is providing more soldiers, regardless of method."
"Ha! Well, we've been lucky. Anglerre hasn't hit that point."
He found a tree stump he could lay his back on, and sat down. She quietly joined him at his side.
"Have you ever thought of having children?"
Roger blanched at the sudden, very personal question.
'W-well, sometimes. My brothers, if the last news I got a year ago was right, have had a few kids of their own. The Wessyng name lives on and hopefully flourishes. I… don't know. I feel like I enjoy freedom too much."
Silence again.
"And you?"
"I am in agreement. Mother has had enough children. Her earliest partnerships have provided what you consider grandchildren, or great grandchildren that are now my age. I do not think she wishes for me to follow that fate."
"Hm."
"We are lucky in that we do not have the idea of our names or bloodlines dying with us. I know of plenty of my brothers and sisters dealing with such."
"Pray I don't become a knight, then I'll be in deep shit."
"Why so?"
"Then it'll matter. Not that It'll happen in my life. I'm yeomen, little better than a peasant. Barely happens anyway."
"What?"
"Raising from the ranks. Edmund has the authority and power vested in him by his father, our dear King Edward. It's happened before, last time was some fellow in the Vretand regiment, a year or two ago. One in eight thousand chance, give or take."
"I see."
"I'd hate it anyway, dealing with the upper class, pretending to be something I'm not."
Anya looked at him in disappointment.
"Do you think you are not worthy of being a knight?"
"Hell if I know. And as I said, won't happen."
"My father was a member of the most noble and honored paths a child of Asuryan could have, and after your actions in the ruins, said that were you a member of our species, you would be by his side."
"I'm honored, but if you've checked my ears lately, I'm not one of you."
"All the more unfortunate."
They sat quietly for a little bit before Roger heard her sniff.
"You alright? Don't tell your kind gets allergies," he chuckled.
His smile vanished when he saw that she was crying.
"You are going to die tomorrow and there is nothing I can do to stop it."
"Anya, I don't-"
"Why?" she said, turning to him. "Why will you not let me or any of us help you?"
"This, all this, it's not your fight! We've been over this."
"I do not understand!" she whimpered.
"I have to face fate. I have to."
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in, which she reciprocated. She buried her face in his shoulder, gently crying all the while.
"I know. I know, but I have to do this."
"If it were the opposite, would you listen to me if I told you to stand by?"
He opened his mouth to answer, but none came. He genuinely did not know how to answer.
"I… if you asked."
"And you would disobey!" she sniffled.
"I probably would. But we're not in that situation, alright?"
"Why?"
"I won't die tomorrow," he said as he pulled her tighter. "I promise. Hell or high water. I'll fight, but if things go wrong, I promise I'll try to get away."
"Thank you," she whispered after a momentary silence.
"Yeah."
"Did you expect death when you left Anglerre?"
"We're only a few systems away, so plenty get home. We're temporary units who'll be sent back when the high command gets other regiments to arrive and replace us. Least that's what I was told. Been seven years since then, so who knows."
Anya let go of him and put her head on his shoulder.
"For my kind, all we have to fear is for our souls and their stones. Even if the body fails, the soul remains. When your kind pass, all that is left is an empty husk."
"If you're trying to make me feel better, it isn't working Anya."
"You did not answer my question."
Roger sniffed and looked up to the stars glittering over the dark sky. It was beautiful here, all this time, the year since he had arrived, and he never realized it until now. What a shame.
"No. No man expects to die."
"But you are tomorrow."
"Pessimism. I have a feeling that Edmund has something up his sleeve. He's gotten us out of a few messes. I don't know."
The answer seemed to lift her spirits slightly. Roger remembered something and laughed, startling her.
"I-I do not find any humor at this moment."
"Nah, I just remembered something from a while ago. When we were on Coron Two, we worked with a regiment called the Pilsudski Uhlans. Cavalry guys, lancers. Looked very dashing and all that. Got to talking with them, started learning about their home planet and all that. Well, when they recruit Guardsmen, their families, having been through this before, consider them dead men walking."
"Truly?"
"Most Guard regiments, Cadians like Helene, fight until they die. Retirement or coming home is rare, even for officers. So the Uhlans, once they're trained and get ready to ship off, they go back to their hometowns, and they-I'm not making this up- have funerals for the ones about to leave."
"They bury them?"
"Make coffins and such, have full funeral processions and everything. They even make the poor bastards be the first ones to throw dirt on their own graves."
"That is beyond grim."
"It's realistic. Few make it home."
"What do they do for the ones that do return?"
Roger chuckled.
"Dig up the coffin and keep it somewhere till natural causes finish what war couldn't."
"I… suppose we are little different. Warriors are given blessings and farewells every time they leave."
"And Rangers?"
"We just leave. I always said farewell to mother, and father when he was outside the Infinity Circuit. Some say farewell and never return."
"Does that ever worry you? That you'll disappear and no one knows what happened to you?"
Now Anya was left answerless. She thought for a few moments and snuggled closer to Roger.
"I never had doubt of my survival. Maybe arrogance, maybe trust in my skills."
"Well, you should always prepare for the worst."
"Is that why you are acting this way? You think you will fall tomorrow, yet you do not?"
"One has to be ready for the inevitable. Death comes for us all."
"So it does."
They were silent for a few minutes before Roger decided to say something, anything.
"Now, we got this night together. Is there anything else you want to talk about?"
"No, I think it… can we stay like this?"
"Of course."
He kissed her forehead and held her, falling asleep as the fires on the horizon slowly flickered out. He ran his fingers through her silky hair, and he knew she was going to stay awake. He hoped she couldn't tell that his promise was a complete and utter lie.
XXXXXX
The next morning, Roger was tinged with a slight headache and a dull thudding in his hand. He could have been in pain, dealing with a fatal infection, but he doubted it would feel much better. He frowned as he saw Davie lying spread eagle on his back, the cup he had imbibed Xhystr beside his head. He nudged the veteran with his foot, earning an angry grunt.
"Fuck off."
"Seven years too late for that, you old bastard."
Davies eyes opened, a grin across his face.
"God-Emperor, you didn't have the decency to bleed out in the night. How're you, Rog?"
"Hand bloody hurts. You? Headache?"
"Nah, drank enough in me life that the head doesn't hurt, but my liver will get me one day. Fine otherwise."
"Sober enough to fight?"
"Remember Elsin Fields?"
Rogers mind flickered back to that battle, hearing the crush of bone, the tearing of flesh, and the screams of the dying.
"Hard not to."
"I was knackered."
"Groxshit!"
"Could barely stand actually."
"You dueled five men alone and won while drunk?"
Davie sat up in disbelief.
"I did what?"
Roger groaned and rubbed his face.
"Where's the others?"
"Helene and Hawke were-"
"I'm aware."
"Of what?"
"Nothing, are they nearby?"
"Yeah, just over there. Bob went off somewhere, but he can't be far, and Evita and Parky were praying all night. "Praying" more like," he said while raising his eyebrows.
"Just because you think every Sororitas is a sexually repressed carnivore doesn't mean it's true Davie."
"It may possibly be," another voice responded.
"Morning Kallen, how are you?"
"My head hurts slightly, but I am fine otherwise. Your man here is a study in stubbornness or addiction, I am not sure which."
"Both. Where's the rest of-ah!"
As if on cue, the other humans in the unit were moving towards him. They all were packed and ready to go, much to his surprise. Bob even brought his rucksack, handing it to him.
"Well I'll be damned. You're all ready, and I'm not. Hell must have frozen over."
"Shove it," Helene laughed.
"You said to be ready," Parky added.
"Here," Bob finished.
"Yes. Well, we got this morning probably. So get some food, talk to whoever you need to, and we'll head on out."
The others agreed, going off on their own, leaving Kallen and Roger alone.
"So this is it?"
"I'm afraid so my friend."
"Do you actually think you will die today?"
"I certainly won't make it easy for them."
The Scorpion gave him a sad smile and nodded.
"I could tell you how survival is in your grasp, but I somehow doubt you will listen."
"And I probably will. Where are the others?"
"Observing the enemy army."
"I was hoping to say goodbye."
"We are an emotional and rather fate-driven species, Roger. I can say from personal experience, we are quite poor at saying farewells."
"Yet you're here."
"I am not as stoic as my comrades, I will admit."
"Glad to hear. Do you know where Anya and Steryn are? I'm bringing them along with us."
"They are on the edge of the forest, closest to your army."
"I see. Well, we have a little time left so-"
From the nearby army, the sound of a horn filled the trees. Every Anglerre Guardsman amongst the group instantly turned to face the noise.
"What was that?" Kallen asked.
Another horn, in the same tone, one long burst followed by a short one.
"He isn't-" Davie stuttered before another horn sounded.
"What-"
"Clarions," Parky said in astonishment.
"What does it mean?"
"Advance," Roger said, then gasped. "Holy hell, Edmund's moving forward already, we need to go, I'm sorry Kallen."
The Scorpion bowed his head in acceptance before proffering a hand, which Roger grasped and firmly shook.
"May fate protect you, Roger Wessyng, and should it not, die well."
"If I don't make it, try to remember me. I know your kind lives long."
"You are fortunately quite hard to forget."
"May we meet again," Roger said before signaling with his hand for the others to follow.
Seven humans dove through the thicket, rushing for their lines. Kallen watched them go, a twinge of sadness in his soul. Maybe he would not obey the order to stay and not get involved. Maybe he would let fate take its course. But what he would do, and what he could, were entirely separate. He took a charm from his neck and studied it before pressing it to his forehead and quietly praying. Some would say praying to the Bloody-Handed God for a human was blasphemous, but he did not care.
Roger and his cohort would need all the help they could get.
