The Hand

Part 3

The column of soldiers marched down the dirt road. They were still three days march from the Capital. Rook was waiting for a good place to set up for the night, for they would only have a few more hours of daylight. He had sent out scouts ahead of the column to watch for bandits, rebels and a place to rest. Rook longed for a bed but there would be no inns until they got closer to the major cities that were still loyal to the Empire.

Tucker walked beside Rook. He seemed to look up to him. Always eager to impress him even though Rook was only a few years his senior. Rook didn't mind, he and Tucker went back to when they joined up. They had been in the same company for the entire time and had moved up in the ranks together. When the old captain died, Rook was promoted and Tucker became his Lieutenant. They were good friends, though Tucker could be obnoxious at times. Rook figured that he would mature as he aged. So far he had been wrong.

They marched in silence down the path. The sounds of men chatting and complaining were behind Rook and he didn't care to pay any attention. He was focused on the road, paranoid of any raiders lying in wait. He didn't have time to be set back by an attack and didn't want to lose any men in something worthless like that. He continued to march awaiting his scout's return.

***

The sun had nearly set by the time the camp was set up. The fire was going and the tents were laid out nicely around the perimeter of the clearing the scouts had found. Rook was organizing the watch duties. He knew it was a job for sergeants but he wanted to make sure that the men knew exactly what they had to do in a dangerous territory such as this. They were barely on the border between rebel land and Empire land. That was the area most of the fighting was happening. They had to stay alert out here.

" Make sure no one leaves the perimeter without permission. Even to relieve themselves. Got it?" Rook said as the men nodded.

"Three hour shifts only, I want you well rested for tomorrow's march. I plan to walk through the night so we can arrive at the capital by daybreak." That remark elicited grumbles from the men.

"I know, you think I like to march? Just think about it, when you get home you get to enjoy a nice bed and the services a city has to offer." Rook replied. The men accepted their duties, even if they didn't like it.

Rook sent the men away and sat down by the fire. He held out his hands and let the heat warm them. The sky above him was as orange as the fire as the sun slowly dropped behind the horizon. The sky was soon joined by a silver glowing moon. Rook fiddled with his Hand emblem. He traced the lines of the eye with his fingers. He thought of what The Hand used to be, when he was a child. It was one of the greatest honours a man could undertake. Just below knighthood. The men in The Hand were noble and kept the lands safe. Now they were a ragtag of bastards, criminals and the occasional noble tired of his life. Rook fell under that category. No one in The Hand knew it but he was the youngest son of Lord Ferrin of East Bluff. There would be no inheritance for him, his older brothers would get all of the wealth of the family when his mother passed. She despised him. He was a mistake and she wouldn't let him forget it. So he left to join The Hand when he was 19, the same year his father had died. He knew there would be no love for him anymore. His father was the only one in the family who ever seemed to care. He said Rook took after him the most but never dared tell that to his wife. She was so proud of her two eldest sons. They were champions of tourneys and arranged to wed daughters of powerful men. Rook was scholarly and quiet. He was proficient with a blade but could never best his brothers. His father understood why he wanted to leave. They had discussed him joining The Hand as Rook got older and his father had left him his blessing in his will. And his old carbine. The sounds of men yelling shook him from his memories.

"Captain! Captain! I seek our captain," cried one of Rook's scouts. Sully was his name. A tall slender man who was quick on his feet. He dragged along a boy in rags, he was holding him by the scruff of his neck.

"Stand up straight you no good -- Ah, sir, I caught this one trying to break into our rations. He had this on 'im." Sully said as he tossed Rook a dagger. Rook examined the hilt of  the blade. On the pommel was a rampant lion. He knew that crest, which house did it belong to? He would figure it out later, he decided, tucking the dagger into his belt.

"What's your name boy?" Rook asked.

"E - E - Everett, sir," The boy stuttered.

"Hmm . . . from where do you hail?" 

"A small farm outside East Peak, sir. Please don't kill me. I'm just hungry." 

Rook examined the boy. He looked no older than 16. He had hazel eyes that radiated pain and hunger. He didn't think he was lying. This was no rebel, a scared kid was all. The name East Peak jogged his memory. The Lion was the emblem of the Renfields, the noble house in East Peak. Rook knew them well. East Peak was very close to East Bluff, coincidently. A large family they were, three boys and one daughter. He always fancied her but she was arranged to marry his brother. He wondered if it had already happened.

"Why are you out here, away from home? Shouldn't you be in the fields, helping with the harvest?" Rook asked.

"We were . . . travelling south to the Capital. To sell our goods. We got attacked by bandits. My parents were killed. I'm lost now and I saw you travelling along the road." Rook knew the boy was lying. He couldn't look him in the eye as he spoke. The kid looked very familiar too. Rook decided he wanted to figure this out.

"Well, now you're a thief and we are The Hand. You are under arrest."

"No! Please no. I'll join you, I know that's an option. Please, I'll do anything!" The boy was almost in tears. Rook just smiled.

"Sure, always happy to take recruits. It's a hard life you know. But it's not like you have a home to return to. Welcome brother," Rook wore a large grin on his face as he led the boy to the tent for new recruits.