Chapter Twenty
The palace courtyard bustled with activity.
The crew cleaning up the destruction of the fire and the soldiers dismantling tents did their best to avoid one another, weaving in and out of each other’s paths in an aggravated dance.
Griselda stood near the edge of camp, barking orders and growling at the palace workers who came too close.
Archer paused to watch, tempted to sink into the monotonous task of packing up an army, but he had other work to do.
Sergeant Darian was already waiting for him at the barracks, a stack of papers in hand. “His Majesty gave me permission to remove the soldier’s files,” he explained, “in case you need to review any of them yourself.”
Archer took the stack of papers from him as they walked.
The top sheet was a list of names, ranks, and years of service.
The files underneath held more detail about promotions, disciplinary actions, mission results, and positions assigned.
Archer raised an eyebrow as he flipped through them all, noting that the section for disciplinary actions for these soldiers was particularly long.
Captain Emera waited for them at the end of the hall leading to the sleeping quarters. She barely glanced at Darian before addressing Archer, “Are you sure about this, sir? We’re more than capable of handling security without them.”
“They’ll have to stand on their own at some point,” Archer said, handing Emera the files. “Anyone stand out as problematic?”
Her lips pursed as she flipped through them.
“You would think so with these records, but no, none of them have caused any issues.” Ever since the Bellacostan soldiers had been confined to the barracks, Emera and her subordinates were in charge of observing them and reporting any troublemakers to Archer.
Private Jasper and anyone else who had received the letters calling them to Sparrow Hill had already been isolated from the others.
Satisfied, Archer left the list with her but kept the files. “Gather them up and meet us in the mess.”
“And try not to scare them,” Darian added.
Emera bared her teeth at him. “If I’m enough to scare them, we don’t want them.
” She looked and sounded more like Griselda every day, which didn’t surprise Archer.
Most of the female soldiers saw Griselda as a role model, both for her skill on the battlefield and her ability to intimidate lesser men with a simple snarl.
Emera walked off, calling out to unoccupied soldiers to assist her.
Archer and Darian continued to the mess, and Archer read while he walked. Along with Varro’s official files on each soldier, Darian had compiled additional notes for his own opinions on his choices.
-Follows orders well
-Praise motivated
-Better ranged fighter, flinches when a sword gets too close to his head
-Likes working with children and new soldiers
By the time Emera had gathered the selected soldiers, Archer had read everything he needed to and passed the files back to Darian.
The soldiers lined up in a single row before Archer, standing at attention.
Their uniforms were clean and crisp and the color of the blue sky and silver clouds outside.
Either they’d kept themselves neat and tidy through their confinement, or they had dressed quickly after Emera’s summons.
The captain wasn’t a patient woman, so either way, Archer was impressed.
It was a neater showing than he expected from the Bellacostan soldiers, though at this point his expectations nearly touched the ground.
He'd met each of these soldiers during individual interviews but none of them particularly stood out. The ones he remembered most were combative, cursing Arnsveld and everyone who lived there or refusing to answer questions.
Emera looked at Archer, eyebrow raised in silent question. He nodded, and she took up a position to his left. Darian stood to his right, so Archer was framed in green and blue, representing both his and Silas’ kingdoms.
“The Bellacostan Army cannot remain as it is,” Archer said, voice echoing through the mess hall. “It also cannot be rebuilt from scratch without leaving your people vulnerable.”
The new recruits had barely started their training before the prison break.
They needed a few more months, perhaps a year, before they were ready to contribute to their kingdom’s defense.
What Bellacosta needed most was leaders, people who could make snap decisions in a battle, who would put their country before their own ambition.
“All former units will be disbanded and rebuilt with new officers in charge. You have been selected to lead these new units based on references from your fellow soldiers and your performance in training.”
The atmosphere of the room lightened as the soldiers’ dread slowly morphed into curiosity and a small measure of pride. One of the soldiers cleared his throat, and Archer acknowledged him with a sharp nod. “I’m only a private, sir.”
Archer looked to Darian, allowing him to explain his choice.
The sergeant shuffled through his papers until he found the soldier’s file and read aloud, “Eiden Tos, Private, enlisted five years ago. You showed promise in your training and would have risen quickly through the ranks except for one incident, three years ago.”
Eiden flinched and his shoulders hunched slightly inward, as if hoping to make himself small enough for everyone to forget he’d spoken.
Darian dashed his hopes, plowing on to describe the incident.
“During a shift at the prison, you witnessed a fellow soldier beating one of the prisoners. You tried to intervene and were wounded in the scuffle. After that, you were assigned posts at the barracks or the armory and any talks of promotion halted. If someone requested you for a team assignment, that request was denied. Meanwhile, the soldier you fought—Beltran Villar—was promoted to sergeant.”
Eiden’s jaw clenched, a hint of fire burning through the meekness. He didn’t say anything to confirm or contradict Darian’s account.
“Sergeant Beltran was one of the traitors involved in the prison break.”
Quiet contemplation settled over the soldiers as they pieced together why they, specifically, were chosen from among their colleagues.
“A good soldier defends the people,” Archer said.
“Sometimes that means following a superior’s orders.
Sometimes that means interfering when others abuse their power.
You’ve been chosen as new leaders in this reformation because you’ve displayed both qualities.
If you accept this promotion, you are to serve the people, not your own interests. ”
“Before you accept,” Emera said, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “Know that this is a probationary appointment. Arnsveldian soldiers will be temporarily assigned to your units. Any concerning behavior will be reported to General Griselda Holt and King Silas.”
Archer tensed, waiting for the same accusations of invasion or spying he’d heard dozens of times every day since he and Silas announced their alliance.
When the first soldier spoke, he simply declared, “I accept your conditions.”
Down the line, others followed his example. Until they reached the soldier at the end of the row. Eiden looked hesitantly between the people standing in front of him, one superior and two strangers. “What happens if you decide we aren’t a good fit for the position after all?”
Archer’s eyebrows knitted together. “Clarify.”
The barked order startled Eiden and he ducked his head.
Sighing, Archer tried to apply Penn’s advice for better communication. “What is your concern?”
Eiden swallowed and rephrased, “What happens if you decide we aren’t good leaders?”
“You’ll be demoted or discharged, depending on the infraction.”
Instead of discouraging him, Eiden straightened up, looking more confident now that he knew the stakes. “I accept your conditions.”
Satisfied, Archer turned to Darian, “Captain Darian will discuss your assignments.”
Darian startled slightly at the title change but took the on-the-spot promotion in stride as he discussed new positions and new divisions with each soldier.
Archer pulled Emera aside to discuss a more personal favor. “I want you to take charge of Silas’ personal guard,” he explained.
“I didn’t know he had a personal guard.”
“Exactly.”
“Ah, and does His Majesty have any preferences for his guards? Female or male? Young or old? Snarky or quiet?”
Archer mulled over the options before admitting, “I don’t know.”
Her dark eyebrows shot upward. “He doesn’t know you’re assigning him a personal guard, does he?”
Before the fire, the palace was crawling with dozens of guards who could keep Silas safe, but they guarded the building as much as they guarded the king. Silas needed someone who would put his safety first, even when he insisted on throwing himself straight into the chaos.
“Should they be stealthy about it, then?” Emera asked with a mix of amusement and annoyance. “Protect him from the shadows?”
Archer gave her a flat look. “As long as they don’t interfere with his work, he won’t complain.”
“You could ask him what type of guards he’d like yourself, you know, rather than leave it up to me to decide.”
Archer ignored the jab and considered the options.
“Quiet, male, someone willing to wear the Bellacostan uniforms so they can blend in with the ranks.” The memory of Silas admiring Penn on their first meeting, and Darian as he’d hefted those heavy boxes, made Archer add one more condition, “Married.”
“Married?” Emera asked. “What does that have to do with anything?”
He glowered at her and refused to elaborate. “Can you handle the task? Or should I assign someone else?”
She scowled at his doubting remarks. “Of course I can handle it. I’ll don a fake beard and guard the damn king myself if I have to.”
Satisfied, Archer nodded and left her to her task. He’d done what he could to ensure Silas and Bellacosta would be protected. Now, he could focus on protecting his own home.