Chapter 31: My Orders
Ethan stood on the hillside at eight in the morning as the fog still clung to the ground. His stomach worked on the breakfast he had eaten earlier. He looked around, admiring the view, as he checked the time on his terminal. The meeting time was eleven, but he had arrived three hours early.
He wanted to see the men before they saw him. One hundred soldiers. That was the number. One mage. One soldier whose strength equaled a hundred regular men.
Two Miles: Alpha Miles, who would take command when Ethan was away and manage the rest, and Beta Miles, who would oversee the seven immunes. The immunes were the ones who handled healing and medical work.
Under Alpha Miles came nine auxiliaries. Each auxiliary controlled nine cadet soldiers. Cadet soldiers, like he was.
That in total came to one hundred.
Promotions were hard where Ethan came from. Most soldiers stayed cadets for decades. Some made auxiliary. Fewer made Miles. Those jumps usually happened on the front lines, after blood and survival, not from resource sectors.
But here Ethan stood above them as signifer, the one who carried the legion’s golden eagle. The rank was so high that it gave him the right to refuse an order from a tesserarius like Amanda if he chose. And he knew, oh he knew, he was young for it.
He checked his update, still at six percent. At eight-thirty, a man in Miles uniform walked up the slope.
Ethan watched him, sliding down his system readout. Ethan’s eyes fixed on the post on his shoulder. He was an Alpha Miles. At first, the man seemed to take Ethan for another soldier, standing there among the fog.
"Soldier!" he called to Ethan. "You’re up here early."
"I like the scenery..." Ethan replied with a smile.
But as he came near and it got clearer, he saw the double-headed golden eagle on Ethan’s chest. He broke into a run right away, stopped a few paces away, and saluted.
"Long live the empire. Long live the gods."
Ethan returned the salute without hurry. "Long live the empire. Long live the gods."
"Name," Ethan said.
"George."
"Common name. Why are you so early, George? I set the time for... ten."
George’s eyes moved over Ethan’s face, pale skin with no wrinkles. The judgment was plain. Ethan was younger by a clear margin, and doubts clouded his mind.
"I wanted to look at the ground and get some air," George said, boldly, not even apologizing for the offense of calling Ethan a soldier.
Ethan smiled. He knew right away the man had not come only for air. He had come to size up the new officer who had called them to a foggy hilltop. The choice of place said something about the leader, as did the tone of his voice.
Ethan asked the question directly.
"Curious how a young man ends up giving orders to someone like you?"
George stayed quiet for a stretch. Then he spoke. "The empire picks the best. I have no right to argue..."
"Oh... you should argue," Ethan said. "The empire is not all perfect."
The words hung in the fog while George’s face tightened.
"Please do not say that, sir. It is... blasphemy."
Ethan stepped closer and put a hand on George’s shoulder. "Blasphemy is a fast road to promotion. I will show you and the rest how it works. Deal?"
George swallowed. Twenty years of the worst jobs, the longest marches, the dirtiest details, and only one promotion at the end of it. Of course, the thought that he had been doing something wrong all that time sat heavy.
The white-haired youth in front of him, wearing that golden eagle, had said it out loud.
But George’s honest core still resisted, and so he said nothing.
Ethan saw it. "Do not worry about following a weak man. I have the strength that matches the rank."
He picked up a stick from the pile he had brought and tossed it. George caught it without thinking. He held it as if unsure he should raise it against a superior.
"Come on," Ethan said.
George hesitated while Ethan insisted, his smile urging him on. They moved. George attacked, and before he’d finished a blink, he was on his back on the ground with the stick tip at his face, and Ethan’s eyes smiling right at him.
What the hell just happened?!
He did not understand what had happened.
"...Again," he said.
They went again. And again. For one whole hour the pattern stayed the same. Ethan put George on the ground every time.
"H... how?" he asked, his outfit now all muddied up, not having even enough strength to stand.
"I told you. I’m not one of those weak leaders you see around."
"Please... again."
"Sure..."
At nine, the Beta Miles arrived with two of the medics and watched George lose once more. Ethan noticed her arrival and stopped. As he looked at them, they too thought the same as George had, but seeing his badge, they saluted out of fright.
"I do not want to embarrass you in front of your juniors. Come on, stand up."
George shook his head. "I am learning. Let’s... keep going."
"No more, Miles. It’s an order."
"...Yes, sir."
While he cleaned himself up, with fifteen minutes remaining before ten, soldiers were already gathering on the slope. Their eyes carried the same look George had shown, the same look the Beta Miles had shown at the start.
Should I have worn some old makeup...? Ethan thought.
He did not have time to fight each of them one by one. That was not why he had called them — to show them he was worthy. Quite the opposite, actually.
He raised his voice so the whole group could hear.
"Welcome to my battalion. I... am your leader!"
He looked across the faces. "You all came early. I applaud you for it... but where is the mage? I ordered everyone here at ten, and now..." he said, checking his terminal.
"It’s already past ten."
Even after it was ten-twenty, she didn’t come. Only when it hit ten-thirty did the sky echo with the eerie sound of a mage’s arrival.
Doom!
Stopping right above them, she landed a few paces from Ethan. The Beta Miles leaned toward George and spoke low.
"What will the new signifer do? Mages are strong and hard-headed. They do not take orders well."
George answered the same way. "We watch and see. And perhaps enjoy it, like you did."
Ethan turned to the mage. "Why," he shouted, "are you late?"
She looked at him with open surprise. That white hair, those blue eyes, that sharp jawline. The man in front of her had been a simple cadet or auxiliary not long ago, but now he stood as the bearer of the eagle. A signifer.
"I... I arrived when ordered," she said. "I was called at eleve—"
Ethan cut her off. "No. The order was ten. You are late. Very, very late. Come closer and take the punishment in the name of the empire."
Her expression stayed flat as she stepped forward, but her stance shifted while everyone watched.
George and the Beta Miles stayed quiet.
Ethan did not raise his voice. He kept it level and clear so every man on the hill could hear.
"You were given a time. You ignored it. In this battalion, that does not happen twice. The rest of you, take note. Late means you answer for it. Rank does not change the rule. Mage or cadet, the clock is the same."
He pointed to a clear patch of ground a short distance away. "You will run the slope from the base to this mark and back. Fifty times. No magic. Legs only. Start now."
The mage’s mouth tightened. For a moment it looked like she would refuse. Then she glanced at the eagle on Ethan’s chest and the still faces of the hundred men.
She turned and began the run.
Ethan smiled. He had hoped there would be some pushback here, but she simply obeyed. He faced the rest of the formation again.
"George is Alpha Miles. He commands when I am not present. He handles order and supply for the ninety. Beta Miles oversees the seven immunes. The immunes keep you on your feet and stitch what needs stitching. Under George sit nine auxiliaries. Each auxiliary owns nine cadets.
That is the structure you lot memorized. You answer up the chain. The chain answers to me. But everything will change now..."
Pause.
He walked the line once. Faces stayed neutral. Some eyes still held doubt. Age sat between him and most of them like a wall.
"I know what you are thinking. I am young. Some of you have more years in the ranks than I have been alive. But years do not equal the right to lead. Like the empire was made, strength does. Results do. And I will give both."
He stopped in front of George.
"You already saw a piece of it. Anyone else who wants a demonstration can step forward after the mage finishes her run. I will not force it. But if you question the rank, you will test the man who holds it."
No one moved. The only sound was the mage’s boots striking the wet ground on her way back up the slope.
Ethan continued.
"We are not a parade unit anymore. We are not a garrison unit anymore. We move when the order comes from me, and we hit what needs hitting through my orders."
"No..." one among them voiced, as she raised her hand. "What if we say no...?"
Silence...