Ragged Heroes: An Epic Military Fantasy Novel (The Silent Champions Book 5) by Andy Peloquin

Author:Andy Peloquin [Peloquin, Andy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Fantasy Fiends Publishing Inc.
Published: 2020-01-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

"Keeper take it, Weasel!" Rold snarled. "If you need to relieve yourself, just drop your britches and get on with it."

"I-I'm fine, Corporal." Sweat trickled down Weasel's forehead. He'd shifted back and forth for the last fifteen minutes, his face growing redder by the second. "Really."

Duvain did his best not to look at Weasel. If he did, he knew he'd burst out laughing.

"If you were fine, you nob-gobbling buffoon, you wouldn't be hopping around like a one-legged nitwit at an ass-kicking party." Rold's face went hard. "Is there something you'd like to explain to me, soldier?"

"No, Corporal." Weasel shook his head, but his face had taken on a desperate expression. After another long minute of wiggling, he'd had enough. "Keeper's twisted gobnards, it burns!" With this, he ripped off his breeches and underwear and, tackle flapping in the wind, raced toward a nearby longhouse. He thrust his hands into one of barrels set to collect rainwater falling off the eaves and splashed water frantically over his crotch.

Endyn's snort turned into a rumbling chuckle. Duvain elbowed him, but struggled to discipline his own expression. Rold shot the pair of them a suspicious glance. "You two know what's going on?"

"No, Corporal!" Duvain said. "Might be those diseases are finally getting the best of him."

Corporal Rold's brow furrowed. "Or someone put something in Weasel's underwear."

"Might be that, too, sir." Duvain plastered his most innocent expression. "Can't truly say for certain."

After a moment, the severity on Rold's face gave way to a smile. "Fair enough, meat."

"You bastards!" Weasel shouted. Judging by the water splashed over his boots and the sodden ground beneath him, he'd emptied nearly a quarter of the enormous barrel. "I know it was one of you tossers. When I find out who did it—"

He swallowed his words as Captain Lingram emerged from the longhouse where he'd been billeted. With a look of pure horror, face going pale as a corpse, Weasel raced out of the captain's eyesight, toward the back entrance to their longhouse. Duvain had never seen anyone run so fast.

Deep in conversation with one of the two scouts, Captain Lingram either didn't notice Weasel or pretended not to. After a brief exchange, the scout saluted and strode toward his horse. Captain Lingram watched the man ride out of the gate, then turned toward their guard post.

"Squad Three, it seems Sergeant Brash has taken pity on you and given you the morning watch."

Corporal Rold saluted. "Aye, Captain. Either that, or the pricks of Squad Five pissed him off worse than we did."

"As you say." He lifted his eyes to Endyn. "How fares your health, soldier?"

Endyn, surprised by the captain's interest, managed to rumble out, "F-Fine, sir."

"Good," Captain Lingram said, but without really listening. His brow had a deep line down the middle. He seemed distracted, out of sorts. He usually paid attention to everything around him, yet now his eyes never focused on anything.

"Is everything well, Captain?" Duvain asked.

"What's that?" Captain Lingram looked up, and the light returned to his eyes.

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