WW Chapter 62: Introductions (Patreon)

No matter where someone went or looked in the city, Villy had space. Space between buildings, space between people, space where there was nothing. In the inner city, that space was harder to find, as the streets were full of more people, and each building was larger and closer to its neighbors, but the streets were never so busy that he couldn’t avoid contact with people, and the buildings were never so closely pressed together that the sky was entirely hidden.

Brayton was so full of motion and life that Ezra couldn’t believe it. Fortunately, coming in through the gate gave them a wide enough berth that Ezra didn’t find himself swept away by the tide of human life. Even so, hundreds of people walked through the streets, the cobbled roads which were lined on every side by solid blocks of continuous buildings. The only way to see the sky was to look straight up, because everywhere else, the city he now stood in demanded attention.

The people around him wore the comfortable, functional clothes of day laborers, so obviously he wasn’t in the rich sector of town. Even so, there wasn’t a single one- or two-story building nearby, every one stretching into the sky. Buildings that, where he was from, would be a testament to the owner's status were everywhere, and evidently were occupied by regular people. Ezra had no way to tell if the streets that surrounded him were where poor people lived, but the combination of overwhelming numbers of people and obvious wealth had him standing and staring.

“I know you’re some bumpkin, but let’s get moving,” Chloe joked, jabbing her elbow into Ezra’s ribs.

He felt himself blush as he shook his head and then nodded at her. Then, he fell in step behind his commanding officer, studiously keeping his attention on his surroundings instead of looking at the many things that demanded his attention all around. With every other step, the butt of his spear struck against the ground, and with two armored people walking down the path, people gave way.

Before he entered the city, he’d thought that every step would demand that he be on his watch for little urchins or desperate wretches trying to pick his pockets, but nobody came close enough to even try. A part of him laughed at his paranoia, since he should have known that they wouldn’t put their lives at risk like that. He wasn’t that far away from having been an urchin himself, and he knew there were marks you didn’t try, regardless of how much you would score if you were successful.

“It will be right around midday, time for lunch, when we arrive,” Chloe said, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that Ezra was close. “Stick by me. It shouldn’t take long before we’ve got somewhere to drop your things and get you fed.”

He nodded, having found just how much he could eat when traveling and pushing his inner world’s reserves. He hadn’t ever gone through the same level of training and effort when he was pushing himself; he hadn’t had somebody who drilled him in dueling, which was the most exhausting part of his day. A part of him mentally wanted to look at Jormun, to complain to the ghost once again about his unwillingness to engage in the different aspects of the training that Ezra needed, but instead, he simply focused on making his way through the streets.

As a part of him had suspected, the outside fringes of the city were where the homes of the poor and lower-quality businesses were located. As he and Chloe strode purposefully towards the center of the city, the buildings around them grew fancier, the glass in the windows clearer, and the quality of the doors notably better. And, as a further testament to just how damn big the city was, they walked for what Ezra was sure was several kilometers before the way Chloe carried herself shifted. Obviously, they were growing close to the garrison, and after making sure that she herself was, though still dirty and travel-worn, presentable, she did the same to him.

“Be patient, be calm, and leave the talking to me unless I tell you to do something,” she said, repeating instructions that she’d given a dozen times over the past weeks as she pulled at his uniform to make it lay flat.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She looked up into his eyes, smiling a bit. “You’re more nervous than you let on, but that’s a good face you’ve got there. You’ll do just fine.”

At that, the Pseudo-Knight turned on her heel and marched forward, squaring her shoulders and, instead of relaxed and easy-going, her body language became intimidating and intense. After a second, Ezra could feel that she was drawing just the faintest hint of aura from her inner world to very literally give her steps more solidity as she strode through the last hundred meters or so of street.

Then, she turned, and Ezra saw the garrison for the first time.

Different from the headquarters in Villy, which was a simple wall around a large exercise field, the Garrison was a fortress within the city, tall stone walls in a hexagon, with just as many soldiers patrolling the walls as there were on the walls on the outside of Brayton. When the sentries sighted Chloe, a bit of a commotion went up around them, and at a gate that hung wide open, two soldiers came out and smashed their fists to their chests in a salute.

“Captain Chloe, welcome home,” they called out. “Is there any news that needs to be brought to the General?”

“At ease,” Chloe nodded. “And no, I returned, and with my new charge here, I’m going to get him registered and set up among the prospective Knights squad.”

The soldiers that saluted her didn’t say anything to that, but by the way one of them sized him up, Ezra knew they were at least somewhat surprised to hear that.

“Very well,” the one who had spoken said, stepping back from the center of the entrance. “Is there anything you need from us?”

“No, thank you,” Chloe said, picking her pace back up to stride into the garrison as she had planned.

Ezra followed behind her, mentally commanding himself not to look like an idiot as he entered the grounds. It was just as well that he’d reminded himself of that, as he walked into an impressive training field where at least fifty soldiers were practicing a more advanced form of the drills that he was put through when recruited. He maintained his forward stride and couldn’t help but notice that one of the soldiers in their formations was at the very least as good as the elites from his hometown.

Obviously, there was a massive difference between new recruits and the career soldiers in the largest city for hundreds of kilometers in every direction. With blunted spears in their hands, they smashed together, shields crashing and wood cracking as the training battle that they were going through nearly immediately surged to a heated fight. Shouted commands went up on both sides, and the soldiers’ lines flexed and adjusted as they tried to strike the opposing side down. 

Before Ezra could even be concerned, everybody stepped back and disengaged from the fight. A few of the soldiers glanced at him and Chloe, but as their sergeant started calling out corrections and cursing mistakes, nobody cared to continue to look.

“The General has a standing order not to allow unnecessary displays of loyalty to interrupt training,” Chloe mentioned under her breath. “We might be getting some salutes as we go through the inside until we find the Quartermaster.”

Ezra just nodded, happy to continue to stay as quiet as she commanded.

With her serving as his guide and a deterrent to any distracting conversations, they made their way quickly through the Garrison. True to Chloe’s warning, whenever they came across somebody in the hallways, they snapped out a salute to her as she stepped past. Fortunately, their destination was obviously known to her, and though Ezra was well and truly lost by the time they reached the office Chloe knocked on the door of, it was only a few minutes after entering the Garrison itself.

“Come in,” a raspy, high-pitched voice called.

Chloe didn’t hesitate to walk into the room, her stance relaxing as Ezra closed the door behind them. As he turned to look at the person who had bid them enter, he couldn’t help but squint and cock his head to the side. The voice that had called them to enter had, he assumed, belonged to a woman.

The only person, other than Chloe, that was in the room was a rugged man, a thick, dark beard covering his jaw and a full head of hair pulled back into a ponytail. Both of his arms were on the desk he sat behind, lines of scars covering his hands up to his elbows, where his shirt sleeves had been rolled up to. His face, the parts that weren’t covered by thick eyebrows and beard, was weathered, a further testament to the life that he had lived.

“New kid?” the man asked, his voice exactly the one that had bid them to enter.

Chloe nodded, leaning over the table and smiling at the sitting man. “Smith, this is Ezra, the newest recruit for the prospective Knights team. Ezra, this is Smith, the head Quartermaster in the garrison. Whenever you need something, this is your man.”

Smith waved off Chloe and stood, offering a hand for Ezra to shake. The younger man stepped forward, taking the firmly calloused hand in his own and shaking once.

“I can tell you were curious,” Smith said, raising a hand up to his chin, “so I’ll tell you now—the voice is because of this.” As he said it, he pulled his long beard away from his neck, where Ezra saw a jagged scar across his throat.

Smith continued, “I’m still a trained soldier, but I don’t spend much time on the front lines now. Welcome to the Garrison. I hope that your time here is good.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ezra replied, not sure how to respond.

“We just need to get him to his new rooms,” Chloe said, stepping back forward as Smith sat down. “Do you think that we’ll be able to get him into his permanent quarters today?”

“Yes, there’s a space prepared,” he answered without having to consult any written information, “but it’s not going to be pleasant for you.”

Ezra narrowed his eyes, not sure what that was supposed to mean, but Chloe obviously understood what he was getting at.

“Elias left?”

“You don’t need to make it sound more polite,” Smith grunted. “He got kicked out because his father has become entirely and openly antagonistic, while Eli himself has been a complete jackass and generally has made a fool of himself for the past few months, as you know. Despite Dominick wanting to be impartial, there’s only so much disrespect towards the Duke that the Duke’s General can allow to go unanswered before there are consequences.”

“Elias Canterbury,” Chloe explained, looking at Ezra, “is the son of Count Canterbury, one of the leaders in the movement to dissolve specifically the Duchy of Brayton, though their aim is also to create a system that is more favorable to merchants than it is to the aristocracy in the long term.”

“So... that’s the group of people who don’t like the Duke?” Ezra asked, not entirely sure as to what the meaning of the explanation she gave was.

“Basically. The politics behind it are complicated, and some people want to be able to buy certain rights, but I would imagine that you don’t really care to get a full legal breakdown of what they’re proposing.”

“No, definitely not,” Ezra replied, not having to fake the shudder. “I can learn that when I need to.”

“It wouldn’t be wrong to say that you need to learn that right away,” Smith added, looking at Ezra.

“I guess,” Ezra shook his head, his tone plaintive as he looked at Chloe, “but I wouldn’t mind taking just a little bit longer to learn that?”

“Yeah, I won’t force you to learn more so quickly,” she sighed, looking at Ezra with a laugh. “But remember—you’re going to be staying in the room of one of the ringleaders of the anti-Duke faction, and his cronies aren’t going to like you anyways.”

Ezra’s knee-jerk reaction of promising violent retribution faded as he took a breath. Then, instead, he said, “I’ll deal with it. I’m here to learn how to become a Knight, not deal with uppity brats.”

“The attitude can still use some work,” Chloe nodded approvingly, “but you’ve got the right of it. Now, let’s get you to your room.”