Arcane mercenaries gener.., p.16
Arcane Mercenaries: General, page 16
“Way better than your colonel and most of your staff.”
“Only because your first sergeant found you in a gutter someplace. Once again, someone else saving that pink behind. Typical, Grant. Absolutely typical.”
Grant wanted to throw the massive desk outside of the room. Touched power raged in his soul, and the world turned gray. Clara sensed something in his posture and backed away from the desk. A hand pressed on his arm. “Not here, captain.”
Grant took two deep breaths and let them out of his nose.
“Who set up the inn as a briefing location?”
“Probably Wisz. It’s close by, and it was easy for us to get the space to give the brief.”
“Did he hire the people as well?”
“Doubtful. I’m sure it was one of the sergeants trying to meet the logistical challenges.”
“That’s where they got sick. I know it.”
“I don’t doubt you, Grant. But you could say thank you for caring for your soldiers. Everyone else was afraid of being near them until we understood it only affected the Touched.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I heard Doctor Gornick is attending them.”
“Even more, Grant. He’s working on a cure.”
“Really?”
“Yes, because Sina needs it, too. The emperor isn’t holding anything back.”
“Who else knows?”
“Just the people in this room and lord mayor.”
Energy flowed out of Grant like someone pulled the stopper at the bottom of a tub. He reached back until his hands clutched a chair and lowered his weight. He looked around at the scared faces in the room.
“I’ve got to figure out what happened. Church, Tul, Eklund, someone else.” He shook his head and tried to bear the burden of responsibility his friendship and command laid across his back.
“We’ll try to help, Grant. I’m not your enemy. Trust me on this.”
“I’ve got to see this doctor.”
26
HOSPITAL RESEARCH
Grant descended the spiral staircase to find Colonel Wisz and an armed squad of soldiers observing his departure.
“I told you General Lasch would see me,” Grant said with a wide grin.
Colonel Wisz fumed and struggled to hold his composure, and the squad waited for instructions. Grant didn’t pause as he marched out the headquarters’ front door, across the compound, and out the gatehouse.
When they reached River Street, he took a deep breath. He didn’t know if Wisz would be vengeful, but he knew he made new enemies today.
“You could have done that better, captain,” Jafran said.
“We’d be here for weeks waiting for an appointment. Wisz wasn’t about to let a group of mercenaries in to see his boss.” Grant adjusted the weapons at his waist and fixed his hat. “Sometimes, I lose my patience with bureaucrats.”
“It’s one of your endearing features, Grant,” Rienne said with a smile. “I’m amazed that your gruff routine always gets you those results, and I’m surprised by the number of enemies you leave behind. The only thing that would make a better story is running into the bishop addressing his flock.”
They turned on Bridge Street and walked toward the cathedral. Grant chuckled and looked toward the cathedral looming over the central city. Rienne was right about his unorthodox approach to problems, but he didn’t waste time when lives were on the line. Someone else could fill out the paperwork after he got his results.
“Made you look. Didn’t I?”
Grant grunted and pulled his eyes away from the church square.
“Who’s the command surgeon for the headquarters unit?” Grant asked.
General Lasch knew Grant and other mercenary companies employed surgeons for their units. Part of their contracts was to provide logistical support without reliance on Alenann forces, and Grant’s unit required additional discretion with its StarTouched officers.
“Dr. Pender is the general’s surgeon, captain. She was the first on the scene when your officers got sick.”
“The general used her medical staff to attend to our injured?”
Jafran nodded and kept his eyes moving through the late afternoon crowd. Grant’s impression of General Lasch rose again. Not every officer who rose to the upper reaches of command lost their soul on their trip to the top.
“Maybe I was wrong about the general. Is that how our team ended up under military care?” Grant asked.
“No one knew what happened, and the rumors flew. Bodyguards and personal security appeared around senior leaders. If something could take down the Touched, then everyone was at risk. General Lasch moved quickly to protect the gathered leaders and get more information.”
“It wasn’t a bad response. I would have done the same,” Grant said.
“Captain, the information lockdown was effective. A few sick people after a big gathering sounds more like a food illness,” Jafran said.
“Dr. Pender figured out the only people afflicted were the StarTouched. The town leadership worried someone had access to the inn and the senior leaders, but the intensity faded when it just happened to the Touched from the Arcane Mercenaries.”
Grant grit his teeth in frustration. His officers were battle-tested leaders who fought against impossible odds, and he reminded himself he should be thankful General Lasch provided quick medical response and care for his unit.
“There were no other recorded illnesses or medical issues from any meetings from the day and a half,” Rienne said.
“What about Sina? Was she at the meeting in the inn?” Grant asked.
“No one announced her arrival or departure. That doesn’t mean she wasn’t there, but she wasn’t in a formal role,” Rienne said.
“Christoph was the same way, never fond of royal protocol. She might have been there.” Grant rubbed his beard. “I’m putting a puzzle together, and I can’t see all the pieces.”
“I don’t even think we have the edge pieces yet, Grant, but no one else is trying. Everyone is worried about Eklund and Nanteene.”
Grant nodded. “Tell me about the surgeon we’re going to see.”
“She’s a colonel. Dr. Faye Pender. Her priority was medical care. Then she tried to figure out the illness, and her last priority was secrecy. From my limited experience, she knows what she’s doing,” Rienne said.
“Years of combat will do that to a surgeon. They get pretty good with this much practice. I wish it weren’t with our mercenaries,” Grant said.
Pedestrians filled the streets in the early afternoon as the workday ended. Many lounged in the parks to enjoy the fleeting moments of sunshine and freedom from the burdens of their lives. The war never ended for Grant, and he was envious of those who could set aside their concerns when they walked out the shop door. In a few weeks, fall would descend across Semturm, bringing gray clouds, rain, and shorter daylight hours. Grant referred to winter in Alenann as the dark ages, and people’s moods shifted to match the perpetually dismal weather.
Those days were far in the future, and people lived life as if today was the only one that mattered. Grant longed to live in the moment, but the Mage Wars demanded his attention. He wondered what life would be like as a Touched individual without the constant threat of war. He had to stop dreaming—people wouldn’t accept the StarTouched as their neighbor.
He longed for a few hours with his officers and friends without worrying about logistics, strategy, tactics, or intelligence. But the next crisis wouldn’t wait.
The medical offices were next to the makeshift hospital off Monument Street. These buildings were indistinguishable from the others on the street, and it was an excellent location for a medical team to work their miracles. Grant didn’t notice security, and no one paid attention to the small group as they approached an unremarkable door.
Open windows allowed the afternoon breeze and natural light into the medical building. Grant caught a few conversations from the upper floor, but he couldn’t make out the words or tone of the exchange. He tugged on the door handle and was surprised that it opened without resistance.
The foyer was small and neat. Freshly painted, off-white walls carried stenciled markings with directions to different offices. Grant guessed the doctor would have an office upstairs, but he was curious about the organization responsible for his officers.
He ran his fingers down the painted words and saw medical logistics, medical support, administration, evaluations, policy, and strategy offices. Grant removed his hand and looked up and down the plain hallways. No one hustled up and down the length, and closed doors concealed whoever might still be at work. Maybe the building was empty.
Grant followed his instinct and took a narrow staircase up another floor. Creaky floorboards needed repair, but no one was around to question their presence. After reaching the next floor’s landing, Grant checked the markings. An arrow indicated the command surgeon’s suite.
They were at the last door labeled command suite before someone cleared their throat.
“Can I help you?” The thick-chested man was built like a barrel and barely reached five and a half feet. His buzzed haircut was all gray, and he sported a handlebar mustache that seemed out of place on his chiseled face. Tattoos covered thick forearms crisscrossed with muscles and veins.
“Sergeant, we’re here to see the surgeon.”
“Captain…” the man raised an eyebrow and waited.
“Grant. Captain Grant Gwydian. Arcane Mercenaries.”
The man’s face relaxed with the announcement, looking over Grant’s shoulder to spy Jafran and Rienne.
“Pleasure to meet you, sir. Your first sergeant has been here daily to check on your soldiers. He explained he had to depart, and it’s good to see you back, first sergeant.”
“Yeah, that’s my fault. What’s their status?”
“Good news, bad news, I guess. The good news is they are still with us. The bad news is there is no sign of them getting better.”
“When did you see them last, Alex?” Jafran asked.
“This morning with my rounds,” the sergeant responded.
Rienne’s assessment of excellent care appeared accurate.
“Colonel Pender will want to see you.”
The little piston of a sergeant moved past the trio and pushed the door open with a resounding, “Room, at-ten-HUT.”
Clerks dropped what they were doing, jumped to their feet, and stared at the opposite wall.
“As you were,” Grant muttered. He looked at the rest of the room as they assumed a position of parade rest. Grant looked back at Jafran, “I haven’t seen infantry units respond this way.”
A grin appeared under the sergeant’s bushy mustache. “No excuse even for medics to not pay common military courtesy, sir. You’re a mercenary captain. Not like the doctors around here.”
Grant liked this guy. He filed away this professionalism as an opportunity to bring a leader with these skills over to the mercenaries. He could get paid far more than what Alenann would pay him, and he’d be where he belonged, with soldiers in the field keeping their fighting spirit high.
The sergeant led them to the door at the opposite end of the room. He pushed it open and announced, “Ma’am, the commanding officer of the Arcane Mercenaries.”
A thin woman peered over the glasses perched at the end of her nose. She wasn’t wearing a uniform other than a white jacket with her rank emblazoned on her right shoulder. She got out from behind her desk and rounded the corner to shake their hands.
“Sergeant, it’s good to see you again. Rienne. And you must be Grant. Faye Pender.”
“Doctor, I think I’m in your debt.”
“Captain, we’ve only made them comfortable. I wish I could give you better news about their recovery, but I can’t share that false hope.”
“Thank you for the care, but you were the first to help them.”
“That’s our job. Like you’ll brave death by steel or fire, we need to show some of our bravery against this invisible enemy.” Faye Pender put her glasses on her desk. “People have long memories, and a city packed with this many people is vulnerable to plagues. The older people remember the last one.”
“Does it worry you, ma’am?”
“Please, just Faye. Or doctor, if you must.” Grant saw immediately why General Lasch trusted this woman. She was no-nonsense, emanated expertise, and didn’t waste words. Faye Pender was impressive in any capacity, and Grant was pleased she cared for his soldiers. “We had to hurry. The church was ready to build a bonfire to burn the bodies, living or dead, and the city wanted to expel your mercenaries. General Lasch stepped in and gave us a chance to help.”
Grant was in her debt. Other organizations might have waited, and some doctors might have asked for payment in advance. Faye did the right thing.
“What do we know about the disease?” Grant asked.
“Very little, captain—”
“Please, it’s just Grant.”
“Ok, Grant. We’ve tried everything we can think of. Bloodletting doesn’t work—”
“It wouldn’t work on a Touched.”
“That’s what we figured out. Leeches, tonics, elixirs, rest, poultices, and even scents. Nothing works with this illness. It’s like they aren’t fully here. They don’t respond to anything.”
Grant’s heart ached even as he appreciated the heroics of saving his friends. “So, what’s the next treatment?”
“We brought in the expert in Semturm on infectious diseases. Dr. Tytus Gornick is one of the best in the region, and he might be the best in Alenann. He runs tests every night and delivers reports in the morning when we come in.”
“What kind of testing?”
“Everything you can think of from simple reflex responses to blood samples. It’s amazing what he thinks about, and my doctors are learning from his expertise.”
“Do you think I could talk to him?”
“Of course. He’s probably talking to the religious doctors as well.”
“What religious doctors?” Grant’s heart pounded, and energy coursed through his veins.
“Grant, this is a learning opportunity. One of the religious orders is donating money and experience to help Dr. Gornick in his experiments.”
Grant hid his emotions from his face and didn’t look at Jafran. They had to strategize their next move.
“Faye, I think we have more work to do. Thank you for sharing your time with us. We’ll be back when we have more, but I think you know I have a headquarters nearby that’s open all hours. Any news—”
“You have my word, Grant. You’ll get it.”
27
STRATEGY
Grant hesitated as they left the building. He couldn’t decide where to put his feet as he considered everything he’d just been told. His officers were lab experiments, and no one knew if they would ever emerge from their terrible condition. He went into Faye’s office with a seed of hope and left with deep concerns for the future.
How could he get his officers back on their feet? What would it take to protect the other StarTouched? He trusted Faye and her team, but who were these other doctors experimenting on his people? Battlefields were easier.
“Grant, you ok?” Rienne was at his side before Grant was even aware she was there.
“I don’t know what to do, and that scares me. I hoped the surgeon had something to offer, but every day seems like more of the same.”
“This is true, captain. No worse, but no better,” Jafran said. “No change gives the doctors time.”
“I should have been here.”
“You can’t change the past, captain. Don’t put this on your shoulders.”
Grant whispered, “I should have been here. Not in Maro. Not running away.”
“You would be on a table in that hospital, captain. Not a doubt in my mind,” Jafran said.
“Grant, whatever afflicted them would have affected you. No Touched has immunity to the disease, and we don’t even know what happened to Sina yet. Don’t think you are out of danger, and don’t assume being here would have changed the outcome. We are better off with you working this from the outside. People are afraid of Grant and the Arcane Mercenaries,” Rienne said.
Grant appreciated their support as his spirit faltered. Soldiers hated hospitals, and Grant wasn't different, even with the cursed powers that allowed him to heal quickly.
“Let’s get back to the headquarters and check in with Jakar. I could use at least one piece of good news.”
Grant and his companions traveled down the street in silence. With only a few blocks to cover, Grant hadn’t processed all his concerns by the time he strode into his headquarters. Jakar smiled until he assessed the look on Grant’s face.
“The Arcane Mercenaries reached their encampment an hour ago. They have enough time to pitch tents and gather supplies before it gets dark. I have eighty cavalry on one hour notice to move out in any direction, captain. We’re ready to fight.”
“Excellent report, Jakar. Thank you for your leadership while I’ve been occupied. I’ll get out and see Mercede, but I don’t think we are moving anywhere fast. The medical reports aren’t great.”
The room was silent as Grant shared the last piece of news. A commander was the loneliest person in the world. Everyone looked to the boss for guidance, support, decisions, and resources. Someone had to make sense of the chaos, and he failed in his duty. As a result, his friends were out of action.
His soldiers observed him and tried to sense his mood. This wasn’t the place to share his darkest concerns or deepest fears. They had to see his confidence and know he was back in charge.
“Keep the cav on three-hour alert, Jakar. I don’t see a situation where we need to move that fast. They can enjoy some time away from the stables and the practice yards.” Grant turned toward the headquarters attendants. “I’ll need a camp report by midday tomorrow. Full strength and supply report. It’s time to reconstitute the mercenaries.”
Grant didn’t feel the confidence he projected, but they wanted something from him. Ez would typically take care of these details as Grant looked into the future at the next opportunity or battlefield. But he didn’t have Ez now. He needed to do everything to get her back into the fight.
