Water boiled without a fire, relying on the soft glow of the Eifer of the colonel, who poured a generous sum of ground coffee into the press. The general’s words incurred an expressionless reaction from the squad, but their breathing became heavy. Preparing their hearts and minds to face their nemesis again, they knew that it was an inevitability. The enemy’s capabilities were well known to those who had met him on the battlefield, whether by misfortune or fate.
“I reckon, however, some of you may have an idea as to why I have summoned you.” Having read their faces, whose fear hid behind a facade of calmness, Warneńczyk glanced at each of the nine members of the squad. “Speak freely.” He granted them permission.
Unsure of who would take up the mantle of leadership, the squad adhered to their instincts and chose a speaker they had long believed in, even if his last endeavour nearly cost them their lives.
He stepped forward, but his eyes seemed unsure of his assumption. “If we were needed somewhere during the battle, we would have known by now.” Arminius deduced, and his more thoughtful comrades nodded in agreement, sharing similar thoughts. “What are our orders?” The lancer asked on their behalf.
Warneńczyk chuckled, surprised by their wit given the situation he saved them from. “You lot are quick to catch on.” He lifted his head and complimented them.
The figure in his hand, which he occasionally glanced at, was a piece of intricate woodwork similar to the ones guarding his map. It looked like a simple foot soldier, weathered with nicks and cuts. He reached out and placed the figure on the map where he wanted it to be, with opponents glaring at the newcomer, other pieces resembling cavalry squadrons, cannon batteries, and sappers, and even both kings staring at this particular piece. Water poured, and steam released into the air. The aroma of coffee filled the tent as a breeze rushed in through the tarps, trapping it inside.
Halting it across the river, deep in enemy territory, the general adjusted his troops, facing each of their opponents like toys in a wargame. “Opportunity is a ripening fruit, and we must choose when to harvest it.” Warneńczyk taught his squad, although they were still unsure as to why a man of his rank would want to spend time on them. “Act too early, and the fruit will be bitter and tasteless. Act too late , it rots, and the fruit is lost.” He held out his hands like weighing scales and set one higher than the other as he added, observing his squad noting his words in their heads.
Cautious footsteps approached him from behind, and a mug was set down on the map, carefully. The general gestured his thanks with a nod, and Florian retreated into the shadows, once again standing beside Adam, who had since entering the tent been exploring its treasured stores of sensitive material. Hot, the coffee swished as Warneńczyk lifted it up to his nose to enjoy the calming qualities of its scent. He then took a sip of it, the bitterness and sweetness well-balanced, reinvigorating him in preparation for a sleepless night. The storm seemed to have passed and all that lingered was an evening drizzle, a light mist flowing into the tent.
Pointing at the sheltered skies, the elderly general warned the squad about their enemy that they may not have been able to tell from their meeting. “The lion has cunning, and we cannot deny the possibility that he chooses to attack at dawn.” His eyes conveyed a seriousness that the squad had not yet witnessed when he spoke to them.
The cloak of shyness broke away from the blonde-haired lancer when he burdened himself with the thought that he should not abandon Arminius to take complete leadership over their questions. “Shouldn’t we reinforce the river?” Julien suggested this, surprising even his comrades because of his usual reservedness.
“A sound tactic if we had the numbers. I would have positioned you anywhere I wished.” Warneńczyk commended him for his thoughtfulness, but he gave no time for Julien to enjoy his praise, being quick to dismiss his suggestion.
While the squad was eager to know of his plans, his grandson held his breath, hoping that his grandfather would tell him.
The general sought to pick up his mug, but he hesitated to. Staring into the swirls of his black coffee, it spoke to him with advice, and he closed his eyes, pausing his thoughts before realising that his method of teaching, through words, may not have been the best choice. “But I shan’t speak of it.” Warneńczyk chose to keep them between enlightenment and darkness, allowing them to navigate their way. He opened his eyes as he leaned back into the chair, which creaked. “If ever you find your worth in this battle, I guarantee you, your positions in this army will be merely a matter of paperwork.” Instead, he made a vow to them.
He pushed his chair back and stood up, while his squad braced up, ready to salute him. However, it was the general who initiated the salute out of respect for those who reminded him of his vigorous youth. Just for a brief moment, the lavender colour of his eyes returned. “Your lieutenant will brief you on the morrow.” Having revealed an Eifer that still existed deep in his heart, the general lowered his head, as if it was something to be ashamed of.
He dismissed his squad, who pivoted on their heels and filed out of the tent as quickly as they entered. The two tarps that formed the entrance were flicked aside, and they exited into an evening after rain. The wind had died down, and the light of the sunset broke through the clouds, warmly illuminating their faces, but the air was already cool. Károly, the last to leave the headquarters, looked over his shoulder, but his grandfather was unaware of him, so he rejoined his squad. An orange light flickered across the map, leaving only a single streak of the sun’s ray in the tent.
Warneńczyk pinched the bridge of his nose and mused, but the colonel was perplexed by his behaviour of when he spoke to the squad.“General, I do not understand.”Uncertain whether or not the squad could hear him still, Florian quietly voiced his concern. His eyes were peeled at the entrance, where the noise of children filtered through. “They are soldiers, lancers at best. Why place such trust in them?” For the few times in his career in this army, he questioned his commander, but surprisingly, Adam had remained silent, as if he knew about the general’s reasons.
Combing his hair with his hand, the general sat down again as if it was an unimportant matter that the colonel was simply too oblivious of. “You jest, Jacek. It is not trust I place in them.” He sipped on his coffee which had cooled down and reflected on the plans he had discussed with his subordinates before the squad had arrived.
But Florian grew impatient without an answer, unable to understand why his general would entrust a task that exceeded their rank’s responsibilities. It appeared that his commander’s seemingly random preference for eight rogue soldiers, excluding his grandson, drove him to act out of character, but this was never the case.
Warneńczyk sensed that his colonel would not rest until he learnt the truth, and he angled himself to face him and the lieutenant. “Reichner and Carlstadt. Do their names not strike you?” He calmly reminded Florian, who appeared more satisfied than he was seconds ago, but there was a hint of disbelief.
Adam glanced at the colonel with uncertain eyes. He had pieced together the reasons behind the general’s actions and the memory of spotting Arminius and Julien’s names on a ledger when they arrived in his training encampment two years ago. However, he never showed any interest in uncovering why they had appeared at the same time, together, in the same country, until Warneńczyk mentioned it just then. Perhaps the general hoped to forget about the same secrets Adam had sworn to keep. Warneńczyk appeared content to usher the squad, particularly two of its members, into the spotlight, but he pretended there was no deeper reason, playing the role of a fool.443Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvlk8UqOP68
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