Ezra felt his mouth drop open, and he stuttered, “But—wha—what?”
“In the next week,” the Madam repeated, “you and Adam will be conscripted, and I believe it is in your best interest to report to the Count’s employ sooner rather than later.”
“Why…” Ezra fought to regain his composure and pushed off the childish fear of being abandoned that clawed in his throat. This wasn’t a dark memory of being left in a corner. There wasn’t a faceless adult who decided to discard him, this was the Madam giving advice.
“Why do you think that we’ll be forced to enter the army?” Ezra managed to ask. “Aren’t slum dwellers not considered citizens of Villy?”
“You don’t need to be citizens for the Count to decide that you’ll serve in an army, especially one being drawn by the Duke to deal with a surge of Dragonkin from the Wilds,” the Madam explained, her voice even as she deliberately explained. “The Duke’s sent out a call for aid, and there’s a required number of trained soldiers from each county as well as conscripts. If you enlist, you’ll be forced to remain in the Count’s employ for at least two years, but you’ll be paid, outfitted, and trained. If you’re conscripted, you’ll be thrown into the frontlines with a rough cut spear and nothing much else.”
“I could hide from the call,” Ezra said, though his voice faltered. A part of him desperately wanted to go, to be a soldier and become a Knight. Surely the Count would have good trainers that he could fall in with, right? But the idea of the Count, who did little more than keep his boot pressed firmly on the throat of the slum dwellers, telling him what to do, made his throat swell closed in anger.
“You could,” the Madam agreed blandly. “I doubt that the Count will send his army trooping through the slums to find every able-bodied young man to get pulled into the effort. You might escape the draft that way.”
Ezra felt a little bit of hope at that, though he could tell by her tone that the Madam disagreed with that. When she continued speaking, that feeling was confirmed.
“You’ve made enemies in the past few weeks, though. People who know who you are and think it’d be better if you weren’t around to keep cracking skulls.”
That nameless redheaded mugger flashed in Ezra’s mind, and, for a brief moment, he considered going out to find the prick. Maybe it was too late to evade getting called out now, but he could go ahead and make the guy who’d done the wrong thing in the first place regret his petty choices.
“Don’t get yourself into trouble because you’re angry,” the Madam snapped, her voice cutting into Ezra’s thoughts. “It’s too late now. You’ll be searched for if there’s any additional need for men to serve on the front line, and nobody wants to be meat served into the mouth of battle. If you run now, perhaps you’ll be able to evade the call, but the mark of deserter will follow you if you do.”
“But this is bull—” he cut himself off, trying not to swear in front of the Madam.
“Yes, it is bullshit,” she said for him, the word feeling wrong coming out of her mouth. “But it’s also reality.”
Ezra took a deep breath, his empty stomach being forgotten in the nerves of the news he’d just been given. As he tried to gather himself, the Madam walked around her desk to lay her hand on his shoulder. She had to reach up to do so, and she patted his cheek a couple times to make sure that he was paying attention to what she said, now that he’d been pulled out of his self pity.
“These circumstances are unfair,” she reiterated, her tone soft and her eyes kind. “You don’t deserve this, because I know who you are. You’ve always been a good boy, and I’m confident you’ll continue to be a good man. Perhaps you can consider this to be a positive turn of events, though. You’ve always wanted to be a Knight. This could be the path that allows you to tread towards that goal. Training from other soldiers, going to fight against kin from the Wilds. It will do you even better than running circles around the back of the inn.”
Despite himself, Ezra flushed at that. He knew how much he’d benefitted from Jormun’s training, but he did look the fool just running around without anyone else around, he couldn’t deny it.
“But what about you all? The Dragon’s Toenail?” He asked weakly. “I’m here to protect you, what’ll happen when I’m gone?”
“I’ll hire someone else,” came the answer without delay. “You’re not the only relatively able-bodied person who’s willing to be pretty trustworthy around here for a silver a night.”
And that was that. The Madam had given her advice, and he could do with it what he wanted, but it wasn’t a surprise to think that she was smarter than he was. Her advice came with care for him personally, and took consideration of what he wanted as well. Plus, despite the disdain he had for nobles in general and the Count specifically for how little they actually did, this was a direct step in the direction he wanted to go to become a Knight.
“Does Adam know yet?” Ezra asked as he stepped towards the door.
“Only you, he, and I do for now,” she answered as she stepped back around her desk. “If you want to share the news with anyone, you can, but I would suggest finding one of the recruitment tables tomorrow if you can. Those who are selected to become soldiers must be healthy, strong, and arrive early. Otherwise, there are plenty of other men who want to escape these circumstances as much as you do. Don’t let them get in the way of you doing what you want to.”
Her voice bared some of the steel that her bones seemed to be carved out of at that. Then, with a faint hint of a smile at the corner of her eye, she waved him out of the office. “Enjoy your dinner, Ezra.”
“Thank you, Madam.”
Ezra closed the door behind him as he stepped into the kitchen. It was mostly dark, the last few embers in the hearth still burning, all but one candle snuffed. His plate remained on the edge of the counter, and he set about eating it as quickly as he could.
“Heya, Ezz.”
He grunted and choked on his food as Matilda seemed to pop out of nowhere just to scare him. Her eyes nearly disappeared in the broad smile that sprouted after that, and she flounced beside him to lean against the counter while he resumed eating.
“I got you back,” she followed up when he just threw himself back into eating.
Again, he grunted back, not saying anything.
“Pretty poetic today, huh?”
“You wan’ me to ‘alk wi’ my mou’ full?” he asked, deliberately making crumbs of bread fly freely as he asked it.
“Ew. Stop it. No, but you’re not just eating. You’re quiet. What is it?”
He chewed a few times before taking a deep drink of the mulled cider he’d had set aside for his dinner. After finishing his mouthful, he looked at Tilly. She was getting prettier by the day, her dark but not black hair and freckles were both something she complained about, but he didn’t get it.
“You’re sure there’s something up with me?”
“Sure as shit. What’s eating you?”
After thinking about it to himself for a second, Ezra couldn’t think of any reason to lie to her, his oldest friend.
“I’m being forced to sign on as one of the Count’s soldiers.”
When she just narrowed her eyes at him in response, he followed up, “What is it, Tilly?”
“You’re just leaving?” Her voice was flat as she demanded the answer.
“Yeah,” he shrugged. “The Madam said that I’ve got to go.”
“The hell kinda demand is that?” Tilly snapped back, her voice raising. “If she doesn’t want to employ you, she doesn’t have to send you off to battle!”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Ezra said, raising his voice despite himself. “If you listen for longer than a single sentence, I can give you information.”
Tilly glared at him, and Ezra held her gaze as he took another bite of the stew. When she still didn’t say anything, he deliberately swallowed as loud as he could, just the way she hated. As he gulped so loud that it nearly echoed, she reached out and slapped his shoulder with a pout that quickly cracked into an unwilling smile.
“What questions do you have?” Ezra asked, and now that she wasn’t jumping to conclusions, they could actually have a conversation. It continued for a while, and once he’d given her the whole of the story, she had one more question.
“Did you recognize the two bastards?” Tilly demanded as Ezra explained who he was certain were the core of this forced signup.
“I’ve seen ‘em,” Ezra shrugged, “but I don’t know where they live or anything. Maybe siblings? He’s a redhead, she’s got kinda… nasty hair, honestly. It’s like she doesn’t take care of it? Both skinny, he pulled a shiv on me, so they don’t have the money even for a real knife.”
“And if I find them, I’ll beat them to death,” she brandished her fists as she said it, and Ezra laughed as he finished the second serving of his meal. He poked his head into the nearby pot to see if there was anything else he could scrape out for a final mouthful, but it’d been emptied out. Instead of digging around for more food, he turned to Tilly, and as they both turned away from just talking, he saw the tears glisten in the corner of her eyes.
“I’m scared for you,” she said in a soft voice. “This isn’t just a job, this is an extermination. They’re Dragonkin, and it’s going to be a hard fight, at least. People are going to die. You might die. You aren’t a soldier, you don’t know how to use a weapon, so you’ll get hurt! They won’t care about you, so you might just get killed and they won’t even tell anyone!”
“I can fight!” Ezra protested as she raised her voice. “I’m practicing every day!”
“With what? A stick? And running in circles isn’t what a battlefield will make you do! You’ll be killing, people dying by you, and, and, and…” Tilly’s voice cut off as a sob threatened to erupt. Ezra stopped the argument that came to mind, instead stepping forward and taking her into a hug. Her shoulders shook as she couldn’t keep herself from crying. Ezra himself couldn’t help but feel some measure of fear as well, she wasn’t wrong in talking about the dangers he was going to face.
“I’ll come back, you’ll see,” he said as he patted her head. “I want you to stay safe here too. Be careful with taking tips when I’m not around, I don’t know what kind of protection the Madam will have instead.”
Though she let out a pained chuckle at that, she also clutched desperately onto his tunic for another handful of seconds, but then she took a shuddering breath and stepped away.
“You better worry about yourself. Thinking about others is going to get you into trouble when you’re on the battlefield,” she said as she wiped a tear from her face. Instead of acknowledging the possible truth of that, he smirked.
“You better not have gotten snot on me,” he replied, making her snort and reach out to punch him. He chuckled, dodged around the kitchen for a couple seconds, and then stopped in the doorway. “I’ll be back. I promise. And I’ll make sure that I send a letter when I can.”
As he said it, the playful fury in his oldest friend drained away. Instead of continuing to pursue him, her arms fell to the side and she looked at him with an expression he hadn’t seen before. “Two years. That’s how long you’ll be gone?”
“That’s what the Madam says,” Ezra shrugged.
“And she never has the decency to be wrong,” Matilda said as she walked forward. Now that she wasn’t threatening him any longer, he let her lean against him again and took her into another hug. They’d embraced plenty of times, but there was something different, almost final about this, and without another word, Tilly walked around him to walk towards her room.
“We’re going to the same place,” Ezra said as he caught up with her.
She shrugged, still staying silent, and when she got to her door, she mumbled something and stepped in before closing the door.
He thought about it, but after a few seconds, Ezra decided against pressing her. He’d be coming back tomorrow after signing up after all.
Kids, Jormun’s voice rumbled in Ezra’s head. He didn’t look at the ghost that’d remained blessedly quiet through his conversations. Though the insult he’d given seemed to want some response, Ezra didn’t say anything to the ghost as he retreated to his room and sat on his mattress. Just as he started to stretch his awareness around himself to begin to strengthen his inner world, Jormun spoke again.
Why did you resist signing up? It’s a perfect opportunity for you to get experience and training, so why not?
“I don’t like being told what to do,” Ezra answered.
You’re going to get a whole lot more of that when you’re a soldier, kid. You’ll be up to your ears in orders, and if you try to say no, you’ll get a whole lot worse than an angry glare or getting yelled at.
“Yeah, I know,” Ezra sighed. “It’s probably more that I didn’t want to leave where I’m comfortable. It’s more real to go, you know? Going into battle instead of just doing pushups in my room at night.”
Jormun looked down at Ezra and nodded slowly. Life changes. That’s a constant. It’s hard, but deal with it. This change will be better for you than if you tried to stay away from it.
Ezra didn’t say anything, but he found it much harder to reach the ambient aura in the world and bring it to himself that night. Instead, much of his evening was spent uselessly trying to make himself more aware of the aura that surrounded him and failing. When finally he gave up, the young man found that sleep evaded him just as easily as the aura had. When finally he was able to rest, he kept waking up and tossing and turning, formless dreams tormenting him and preventing good sleep.
It’s time, kid, Jormun said as Ezra woke in the morning. You’ll have to prove yourself to the Count in order to not be thrown to the wolves. Get some food and get out the door.
With his stomach in his throat, Ezra nodded. After all, this was reality, and he was going to be a soldier now. With that in mind, he dressed himself up, ran a comb through his hair, and walked out the door.
“This’ll change everything, I guess,” he muttered to himself as he closed the door behind himself.