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Herzer started the cheer and it was a lusty one; all of them had wondered when in the hell they were going to do more than march and dig.

“It doesn’t get easier from here, but it does get different,” the Gunny said. “Among other things, you’ll be permitted some liberty to go into town. That does not mean that you can swagger down to Tarmac’s tavern and get into a fight; anyone doing so will meet with my displeasure. And if you thought those packs were heavy, wait until I take you on a march in full kit. But you’re on your way to being soldiers. You have a pass for the rest of the day and until lights out. First call as usual. Oh, and the females, the ones that are left, will be joining. They will be integrated into the squads. Now, don’t get the impression that you’re being issued your very own whores. They have been going through the identical training that you have and they are soldiers just like you. Furthermore, anyone found fisking on duty will face the full force of a court-martial, up to and including flogging and disrating. And you don’t even want to think about forcing your attention on one of them. First of all, they’ll probably hand you your balls on a spit. And if they don’t, the penalty is hanging. We haven’t had mixed groups up until now because you had to learn what discipline means.

“Tomorrow you’ll be fitted for armor and issued training weapons. And then your real training starts. Fall out!”

* * *

When they fell into the barracks Herzer called at ease.

“We’ve got a pass for the evening,” he said, looking around. “That doesn’t mean you can just fisk off. Somebody’s got to stay for fire-guard; that’s by roster.”

“Shit,” the unlucky recruit said.

“Yeah. And if you’re planning on going into town, you go in groups. At least one decurion is to be with each group and if anyone in the group fisks up he and the decurion will answer to me.”

“What about you?” one of them asked.

“Well, I turned in all my money,” he grinned. “So walking around town with nothing to spend doesn’t appeal very much. And I’m not going to go ask Sergeant Jones if I can draw some cash. Are you?” He looked around and nodded. “Me? I’m going to get some sleep.”

A few of the troops decided to go into town anyway and he assigned Pedersen from third decuri to accompany them, then headed for his spot on the floor.

“So you’re just gonna flake out?” Cruz asked from his own spot.

“Damn straight,” Herzer replied, plumping up the bundle of underwear he used as a pillow. “Tomorrow we start training with the Gunny. What do you wanna bet he’s gonna bust our ass in the morning just to show us who’s who?”

“What’s he gonna do to us that they haven’t done already?” Cruz asked. “Any problem if I go into town?”

“Not as long as you take somebody with you,” Herzer replied, rolling over and trying to get comfortable. Normally he fell right to sleep but this was just too early. Nonetheless, he could hear Morpheus calling. He swore he was never going to pass up a chance to sleep again in his life. “But you’d better be back by lights out and ready to rock in the morning.”

“Yes, sir!” Cruz snorted. “See you later, Herzer.”

“Only if I’m still here and you can see.”

Herzer, who was trailing the triari to round up stragglers, passed Cruz on the way up the Hill and patted him on the back.

“Thrown up all that rotgut, Cruz?” he asked cheerfully.

“You bastard, how did you know?” Cruz moaned.

“Just a lucky guess.”

The Gunny had, indeed, decided to show who was boss. The triari was on its second ascent and the first hadn’t been to the Gunny’s satisfaction, which he had passed on in scathing tones.

“Cruz, if you wanna keep them recruit stripes, you’d better move on out,” Decurion Jones said as he reached the two recruit leaders. “Move it out, Herzer.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” he said, grabbing Cruz’s arm. “Let’s go, party boy.”

“Lu, I wanna die,” Cruz moaned, struggling up the hill. Behind them the drill sergeants were chivvying the other recruits who had failed to keep up.

“How much did you drink?”

“I dunno, after the second mug of mead it was all sort of a blur,” Cruz said and paused, briefly, to dry heave.

“Next time, listen to Papa Herzer, okay?” Herzer said with a laugh. “Even the gurrrls are doing better than you.”

“You got it.”

When they reached the top of the Hill, Gunny, who looked to have not even broken a sweat, the bastard, had assembled the triari. Herzer took his place at the back. There were seven women who had survived the Basic course and they had been integrated into the squads despite the fact that at least one of them had to be a Recruit Decurion. Herzer wasn’t sure if Cruz was going to keep his place after this morning’s showing, but Gunny didn’t tell him to move down the decuri so apparently he was being lenient this morning.

“Well, I’d guess you’re wondering why I called you here,” Gunny said when the last sweating and panting recruit reached the formation. “There’s a very fine book that says ‘For everything there is a season’ and you have just entered the season to put away childish games. And I’m the man to bag up the toys. Is that clear?”

“CLEAR, SERGEANT!”

“We’re not going to have much time for fun and games over the next few weeks but I thought it was a good idea to remind you all that soldiers have to move when they are told to move. This valley has been battled over before and the general that owned it, in that day, depended upon his infantry. They moved so fast they were referred to as foot-cavalry. And that is the mark we will obtain. By the time you are done, you will be able to walk any cavalry into the ground and you will be able to move on tracks that a goat would find difficult. Or my name isn’t Miles Arthur Rutherford. Is that clear?”

“CLEAR, SERGEANT.”

“You will care for your personal gear before you care for yourself. If you are responsible for specialized gear, you will care for that before you care for your own gear. Your only goal is to perform the mission. Every day you can find something to enhance the mission and every day you will find something to enhance the mission!”

“So, what is the mission, Gunny?” Cruz asked, solemnly.

“Your mission is to die from an arrow or a sword blow or a halberd so that a civilian does not! It is the job of politicians to ensure that you do so! If you have a problem with that you can go join some rabble-snabble mercenary company or you can join the sloppy-ass milichee and go back and hide behind your momma’s skirts! But in the meantime that is your mission! The civilians will not know, nor will they care. In time they will come to hate your guts. Nonetheless you will keep true to your salt and drive on to the mission everyday! Do I make myself CLEAR?!”

“CLEAR, GUNNY!”

“You are born in blood, in blood you shall live and in blood you shall die. From this day forward, you are not soldiers, you are not legionnaires, you are the Blood Lords. Bound by the blood, bound by the steel. Repeat after me: Blood to our blood…”