Captain Frigyes stood waiting while the soldiers gathered. He wore a rain cape. Instead of using the hood or a cap like Szonyi's, he had on a broad-brimmed felt hat in the Algarvian style. Even though the feather in the hat-band was sadly draggled, the headgear, cocked at a jaunty angle, gave him a dashing air he couldn't have got without it.
He returned Istvan's salute, and then those of his companions. "What's up, sir?" Istvan asked.
"I'll tell it all once," Captain Frigyes answered. "That way, I won't have to go over pieces of it three or four different times. You'll hear soon enough, Sergeant- I promise you that." Istvan nodded. What the company commander said made good sense. Even if it hadn't, of course, he couldn't have done anything about it.
A lieutenant, another sergeant, two corporals, and even a cheeky common soldier asked Frigyes more or less the same question as they came up. He gave them the same answer, or lack of answer. Istvan felt better to find out he wasn't the only nosy one in the company.
When just about everyone had gathered in front of Frigyes, he nodded to his soldiers and said, "Men, it's time to stop beating around the bush. Nobody talks about it much, but we all know the war isn't going as well for Gyongyos as it ought to be. We've got two foes, and we can't hit either one so hard as we'd like." Istvan preened in front of Szonyi and Kun. He'd said the same thing. Maybe he really did deserve a job in the foreign ministry.
Frigyes went on, "Most of you fought in the forests of Unkerlant. Some of you remember how, summer before last, we were on the edge of breaking out of the forest and into the open country beyond, and the magic the Unkerlanters made to help halt us."
Not likely I'd ever forget that, Istvan thought. The other longtimers in the company were nodding. Kun had a look of something close to horror on his face. Having at least a small fragment of a mage's talent, he'd not only felt the spell, he'd understood how the Unkerlanters had done what they'd done.
For those who didn't, Frigyes spelled it out: "King Swemmel's mages slay their own folk- the ones they reckon useless- to fuel that magecraft. The Algarvians use the same spell, but power it with the life energy of those they've conquered. Neither of those is, or could ever be, the proper Gyongyosian path."
"Stars be praised!" Kun murmured beside Istvan.
But Frigyes went on, "Still, we need to use that spell if we are to hold back the grinning dwarfs of Kuusamo."
Kun gasped. "No!"
"Aye," Frigyes said, though Istvan didn't think he could possibly have heard Kun. "We need it, for it has proved itself far stronger than any sorcery we have. But the essence of the spell is its use of life energy, not the murder of those who have done nothing to deserve it to gain that life energy."
"What's he talking about?" Kun whispered to Istvan.
Istvan looked at him in surprise. "Don't you know?" Kun was a city man. If this was what being a city man meant, Istvan was just as well pleased to come from a mountain valley. He understood how a proper Gyongyosian was supposed to think.
For Kun and any others who didn't, Captain Frigyes spelled it out again: "We are seeking volunteers among the warriors of Gyongyos. If you say aye, your name will go on a list to be held against time of need. Should the need arise, you will serve Gyongyos one last time, and the glorious stars above will remember your name and your heroism forevermore. Who now will step forward to show you are willing- no, to show you are eager- to serve Gyongyos in her time of need?"
"Madness," Kun said, though still quietly.
"No," Istvan said. "Our duty." His hand shot into the air. He wasn't the first, but he wasn't far behind, either. More and more hands went up after his, Szonyi's among them, till about two thirds of the company had volunteered.
"Stout fellows. I expected nothing less," Frigyes said. "Hold those hands high while I write down your names. I knew I could rely on you. I knew Gyongyos could rely on you. All through our army, officers are asking this question today. All through our army, I'm sure they're finding heroes."
Muttering under his breath, Kun raised his hand, too. "There you are!" Istvan said. "I knew you had a warrior's spirit in you."
"Warrior's spirit, my arse," Kun said. "If all you fools say aye, you'll hate me for saying no. That's the long and short of it."
He probably wasn't the only one to think like that; either, and he probably wasn't wrong. More and more hands went up, till only a few stubborn or fearful soldiers refused to volunteer. Frigyes had been no fool to ask all the men at the same time. They shamed one another forward.
When at last no more hands rose, the company commander nodded approval. "I knew you were warriors," he said. "If the stars be kind, as I hope they will, your names on this list will be only names and nothing more. But should the need arise to give of ourselves for Ekrekek Arpad, I know we will go bravely, and of our own free will. And I want you men to know one thing." He held up the list of names he'd taken. "My own name is here among yours. I am willing to give my life for Gyongyos, too. Dismissed!"
"That's a brave man, by the stars," Szonyi said as he and Kun and Istvan walked off together. "He put his name right down with ours."
Kun gave him a pitying look. Then the city man glanced over to Istvan. "You see it, don't you, Sergeant?"
"See what?" Istvan asked. "Szonyi's right- Captain Frigyes is brave."
"He's brave in battle. Nobody could say anything about that," Kun admitted. "But volunteering to be sacrificed doesn't prove anything about him one way or the other."
"No?" Szonyi asked. "You want your throat cut if Gyongyos gets in trouble? I don't, and I don't suppose the captain does, either."
Kun sighed, as if wondering why he met all the stupidity in the world. Szonyi started to get angry. Istvan sympathized with Szonyi. "What are you going on about?" he asked Kun. "Do you think the captain didn't put his name down on the list when he said he did? You'd better not think that." He started to get angry, too: angry at Kun, because he didn't want to be angry at the man who led them into battle.
"I don't think that, not for a minute," Kun said. "Don't you see, though? It doesn't matter."
"You keep saying it doesn't matter. I see that," Istvan answered. "The more you say it, the more I want to give you a clout in the eye. I see that, too. So either start talking sense or else shut up."
"All right, by the stars, I'll make sense." Now Kun sounded angry, too, and spoke with savage irony: "There's one captain for every hundred common soldiers, more or less. It's harder to be a captain than a common soldier. You have to do and know everything a common soldier does and knows, and a lot more besides. So when the time comes for the mages to start cutting throats, if it ever does, are they going to start cutting common soldiers' throats, or captains'? Which can they replace easier if they have to use them up?"
"Oh." Istvan walked on for a few paces. He felt foolish. He felt worse than foolish- he felt stupid. He glanced over at Szonyi. Szonyi wasn't saying anything, just tramping along with his head down and a half glum, half furious expression on his face. With a sigh, Istvan nodded to Kun. "Well, you're right."
That made Szonyi speak up: "I still want to give you a set of lumps. Maybe now more than ever."
"Why? For being right?" Kun asked. "Where's the justice there?"
"For being right in the wrong tone of voice," Istvan said. "You do that a lot."