Settling In

[Wayfarer]

"Your name is Fakhir Aswasim?"

 

"That is what I said."

 

"That is what I said, sir."

 

There was a small part of him that wanted to throttle the man before him.  Actually, that was a lie, it was more than just a small part of Fakhir that wanted to put this man on the ground.  Lieutenant Morrow wasn't the most impressive man he'd ever met, indeed he was a spindly fellow who was dressed entirely too well.  The sort of fellow that needed a good kick in the teeth with the airs he was putting on, but that wasn't going to be conducive to Fakhir getting paid so he put aside the urge as best he could as he mouthed the words.

 

"That is what I said, sir."

 

"Excellent."  The man seemed to glow a little at the compliance, Fakhir was pretty sure he'd glow if he reached over the table where the man was seated, grabbed his head and smashed it on the desk repeatedly until the man was left unconscious.  But, coin was coin and that was why he was here, hopefully the idiot infront of him wouldn't be seen much.  That would definitely suit Fakhir as far as he was concerned, but instead he waited for the man to scrawl his name in the ledger that signed him onto the Band's service, this Banner specifically.

 

"I am assigning you to the Second Squad of Lion Platoon, you will report to First Private Parika.  He in turn is commanded by Sergeant Davies who is in charge of the Lion Platoon.  He in turn answers to me and Captain Martel who run the  Battalion, and she answers to Banner Captain Martel, her brother.  Our Banner is the Black Banner, be sure to mark it well."

 

Black Banner?

 

"Our Banner Captain isn't Black Martel is he? . . .  Sir."

 

"He 'was' once a pitiful sellsword known as Black Martel, now he is Banner Captain Martel of the Band of the Red Hand and you'd do well to remember that.  Now I'm going to give you directions to your Squad Leader, he will see you settled in properly. . ."

 

 

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry

[Wayfarer]

"Lieutenant Morrow sent you?  What did you think of him?"

 

There was something wrong with this situation as far as Fakhir was concerned.  He was thirty three years old and had years of battle experience under his belt, yet he was now going to be commanded by some boy who hadn't even made two score years.  First Private Parika was easily marked as Arafellian by his braids, and he had a pair of swords strapped to his back, but Fakhir was fairly certain that he could throw the boy down in twenty seconds if it came to it.  He wasn't big enough, strong enough, and probably not quick enough either.

 

But that wasn't what was asked, what was asked was his opinion of Lieutenant Morrow and Fakhir was happy to speak truthfully.  "He needs to have his head freed from his arse, he talks more muck than a stable of dung flinging trollocs. . . Sir."

 

"Don't bother with the sir, and you're right.  But, we don't see much of him so its all well and good.  Where did you bunk down?"

 

"I was led to a barracks that was over there in that direction."

 

"Pick up your gear from there and bring it over here, I prefer to have all my people in one place.  Besides, we have morning and evening inspections and need to be in the one place for those."

 

". . . Inspections?"

 

"Yes, Sergeant Davies inspects us morning and night, our equipment and our clothing is to be presentable at all times and we are to be ready to report whenever needed."

 

"What does presentable mean?"

 

"You know, all our clothes must be washed daily, all our weapons and armour have to shine, show that we have pride in ourselves and our platoon."

 

Up until that point, Fakhir had been willing to give the lad the benefit of the doubt.  The lack of sarcasm in the way the lad spoke destroyed that.  "We do?"

 

"Of course, thats Sergeant Davies orders."

 

"Right."  Well, that was going to be fun, not that he had any intention of really following it to the letter.  "I'll just go and get my stuff then. . ."

 

 

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry

[Wayfarer]

Sergeant Davies.

 

Watching as the man walked up and down the line, inspecting them and their equipment, Fakhir had to say that out of all the people he'd met so far, their Sergeant was the least impressive.  For one, he was called a Sergeant, he'd never even come across the rank name before.  Secondly, Davies didn't do much for it, looked like nothing more than a fat sellsword who stayed right up the back and came in only when the battle had already turned.  Well, he probably wasn't all fat, but he was probably used to using his size to intimidate.

 

It was apparent in the way the man moved, big lumbering steps and he seemed to do all of his thinking with his neck.  Wherever he turned his neck turned with him, like his eyes were lodged there instead of his head.  He looked immaculate, something that might have meant something if he hadn't found out that the man had hired a local lad to take care of all of that for him.  Lazy, thats all that Fakhir could think of the man who was walking by them and was now approaching him.

 

"What is your name?"

 

"Fakhir Aswasim."

 

"Fakhir Aswasim what?"

 

He couldn't help it, that tiresome sir business was becoming entirely too much, especially when it was being barked at him.  Especially from a fat fool who thought he could push him around with ease just because he had a rank and tried to look like roses but resembled a walking cesspit.  "Fakhir Aswasim the Great."

 

The laughs that ran through the assembled Squad was telling, even as people tried to rein it in as the man glanced about angrily.  Seemed he was a bit unhappy with what Fakhir had to say, judging from the shove that he gave Fakhir that sent him back a step.  "You a joker?  Think you're funny do you?  I've got a couple of silver marks here that says you won't be laughing so hard after I'm done with you, how funny does that sound?"

 

Fakhir didn't hesitate when the man reached for him again, as far as he was concerned it was all self defence now.  Grabbing the man's arms with his own and smashing the crown of his head into Davies face, he savagely kicked the man's feet out from under him before the Sergeant knew what was going on and, landing ontop of him, proceeded to lay into him.  It only took three punches and the man was out cold.

 

Everyone was silent as he reached over to the man's purse and fished out a couple of silver marks.  Normally he would have taken the lot, but normally he'd slit the person's throat as well.  Getting to his feet, he looked to the others, including his own First Private Parika who seemed stunned by what had occured and just shrugged.  "You heard him, he bet a couple of silver marks that I wouldn't be laughing once he was done, and he looks pretty done to me for now."

 

Laughing to himself, he turned and walked off to go find some place to get some practice in as there wasn't much else to do, and he did so a couple of silver marks wealthier.

 

 

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry

[Wayfarer]

"I know you, Fakhir Aswasim."

 

Standing before the desk of Captain Imogen Martel, Fakhir couldn't help but think that it was a waste of time.  Not only because it was over thumping his Sergeant stone cold, which had been entirely well deserved as far as he was concerned.  If the man hadn't been able to back up his shoving and his threats, he shouldn't have been game enough to try it in the first place.  Blustering was always going to be called up on sooner or later, and if it was about the coins that he'd taken, he'd only taken the couple of silver marks that the man bet, not his entire purse.

 

The woman before him was a different matter.  Imogen Martel was the younger sister of the Banner Captain, and was probably why she held her position in the first place.  Not that she couldn't hold a sword, he'd seen her use it a few times long before he'd ever come to the Band.  Her and her two brothers had been part of the Black Martels, a company of sellswords under the eldest brother Roric, the Banner Captain.  But her as a Captain, he found it difficult to take it seriously and didn't try to begin with.

 

"I know you too, Imogen, I didn't expect to find you here though.  So, what did you want me here for?"

 

"You know bloody well know what you're here for.  You assaulted one of my officers and you stole two silver marks from him, infront of your whole squad, and then you expected nothing to happen?  I had you pegged as cunning, not retarded."

 

Having been called worse, it simply washed over him as he replied.  "He shoved me, told me infront of everyone that he was going to give me a hiding and bet a couple of silver marks on it while he was at it.  I didn't do anything until he came at me, at that point his silver marks were wagered and mine.  Its not like I took his entire purse or lopped off a few of his fingers, he pushed first and if he wasn't able to back up his bluster, thats his problem."

 

"No, Fakhir, its your problem as of now."  Rolling his eyes as she got to her feet, he simply listened as she continued.  "I'm not going to put up with this, you not only beat him down but you undermined him as well."

 

"So what?"  He threw a hand up dismissively.  "He's a fat toad and twice as useless, only thing he's good for is the front line so someone can lose their sword somewhere between the pork ribs his munged down and his own.  Not my fault you picked someone who can't hold their own."

 

"He's your officer and you'll bloody well do as you're told."

 

"Or what?"

 

"Or you don't get paid."  That was cold to begin with, but it was followed by more.  "You aren't irreplacable, if you hadn't noticed there are plenty of people coming to sign up, thats why this new Banner was formed.  If you don't like it, wander over to some ditch and die there for all I care, but if you want to see a single coin you'd better shape up."

 

Not getting paid, that was where it would hurt most.  Sullen as he took a step forward, there was little hiding the bitterness in his tone as he spoke.  "Wouldn't be nearly so brave if you didn't have a hold of the purse strings."

 

"What was that?"

 

"I said that you're a cowardly bitch who hides behind the purse strings and that if you didn't have them, you wouldn't be half so bold."

 

"Oh really?"  Stepping around her table, Imogen lifted a finger at Fakhir as she spoke angrily.  "I'm a coward?  Well here's your chance, rank isn't an issue.  Take your best shot you black veiled whoreson.  I dare you."

 

Fakhir wasn't one to say no to an opportunity and surged forward, crashing into her and driving her back toward the wall until somehow they swapped places and it was him whose back smashed into it.  A fist barely missing her face as one of her hands found his crotch, he was on his knees within a moment and a barely visible fist smashed him to the ground.

 

Groaning even as he felt her boot roll him onto his back, Fakhir was at least still able to hear if not quite completely focus on the woman standing over him.  "Remember this you get of a rat and a leprous whore, I am no bloody coward and if you want to prove otherwise, I'll be more than happy to knock your miserable arse to the ground again.  You'll not cause my Sergeant anymore trouble and you'll do as you're bloody well told."

 

Feeling the foot lift off him, Imogen's voice was no less harsh as she continued.  "Because he started it, I won't dock you the two silver marks you took from him, but this is a one off.  You do something so stupid again over a simple shove and so help me I will put your face through that wall next time.  Now get up, and get out."

 

A prod from her toe got him moving, as much as everything hurt and the pervading weakness in his limbs from where she had grabbed his jewels he.  Getting to his feet slowly, the best he could manage was a shuffle as he let himself out of her office and staggered outside.  He only made it a few dozen feet before he fell back to his knees though, the nausea from the pain too much as his stomach betrayed him.

 

Huuuuurk.

 

 

Fakhir Aswasim

Infantry