I

The weather had already broken, yet I find myself donning this woolen duster. Perhaps out of habit? No, I knew the reason deep down. It was the silhouette I cut in the trench coat, unmistakable. I’ve had it for years, the same one they issued to me before sending me on this deployment. I liked it at first because of how large it made me, at five foot ten and having spent my days in libraries, I feared I may not be respected. I now perhaps realise that the chevrons on my shoulders did most of the heavy work in that regard. It wasn’t until much later I figured it was my surname that brought the imposing silhouette, not the rank or the coat.

I knew this was coming, but in my usual fashion I decided preparation was not needed. Conversations with the commander were never something I looked forward to, but the situation deemed we work hand in glove. Just the way I dislike it. I had been left to my own devices until now, and a three-year run was as good a gift as I could ask for. Sometimes I do wonder if there is even a need for the military, engineers in uniforms. I had multiple teams pass through in my tenure, they used this post as recovery or punishment, though I am sure those recovering felt it was salt in the wound. I remained unsure if the sweat beginning to bead on my brow was from the wool, or something else entirely.

I knew why these conversations were so excruciating, our commander had been at this outpost for almost twenty years. His rank came from duty and service, and like many before and after, this post came after an injury that left scars deeper than tissue. He outranked me, as a Major, and with this post serving as a recovery spot due to the nature of life at the fringes, he was no stranger to other officers passing through. But no one chose, and none stayed. I believed this the reason he disliked me, though looking back at it, that too was likely due to my surname.

“Welcome Sir”

 The boy saluted as I approached command, his thin frame and steely eyes gargoyle-esque in the shade of the cyclopean façade and weathered oak doors.

“Good morning, I am glad you can now taste the sun. But I wouldn’t get used to it, the rains follow fast here.”

 I forgot his name, none stayed for more than a few weeks. He had been in the infirmary with infection for a while, that I remember. I dropped my hand, now clasping my cap. The red band shining in the morning light. I inhaled subconsciously and stepped inside. Glossy black boots, heel caps clinking against marble. I had thought about riding to command but settled on a walk. The florescent glow refracted through the immaculate masonry.

Our commander’s office was just down the hall, a small humbling space in comparison to my sprawling villa. He could have chosen a whole floor of the command; I certainly would have. In fact, I am pretty sure that’s why I was allocated the villa, so he didn’t have to see me every day.  I think my books would not fit in his office, never mind my work. I often wondered what he commanded from such a small space but never voiced that so far. I had my reasons for being here, but the Major seemed content with this posting.

Or he was, until recent news. 

II

I was surprised to hear the muffling’s of a second, female, voice inside his office. I contemplated knocking, but my curiosity got the better of me. I lingered where I knew my shadow would not be cast against the glass panes. Perhaps our Major was getting too comfortable and a little complacent, or most likely, no one ever came unbidden. It wasn’t that he was disliked or feared, just that the daily running’s of the hamlet had very little need for interaction, never mind espionage. It was only until after my story ended that I saw the beauty and peace the Major chased. At twenty-eight it was incomprehensible to me.

“You’re sending her?”

As the Major took a seat behind his desk, my mind reeled. Still astonished by the look of utter shock she gave me as she exited. Had I thought more logically it was clear no civilian would have been comfortable to be caught between us both. I had worked together with her before on a few small things. And yes, she was capable and knew the lay of the land well. But she was also young. Like him.

“No, I am sending you both.”

The Major replied through what could almost be constituted as a grin. His expression of someone who had managed to clean some rather stubborn grime of one’s own hands. Exasperating, why I cannot just be left out of this utter debacle is the only thought that comes to mind. Though again, logically who else would they send? I am lucky that I am in control of my tongue and allowed the Major to speak on.

“It’s been two weeks since they set out, and forty-eight hours since we last got an update. I cannot leave this unchecked, even if it’s just interference or something just as trivial. I won’t let it happen on my watch, even if that means having to ask you to play baby-sitter. And trust me, I do not want to owe you a favor. I know too well you will want it returned.”

Now the smile broke into something more akin to a grimace, his usual expression around me. He may have outranked me with uniform on, but his standing was far below mine. It made him nervous, and people get defensive when they are nervous. It wasn’t lost on me, and yes, I made full use of it to my substantial advantage.

“Well, perhaps that need not be the case. You know full well hat I have been asking, this could be an opportune time to see how our goals may yet align, Major?”

After all, I was here for a reason.

III

“Major, how old is she anyway? Seventeen? Eighteen? Do you not think it, ahem, unwise to allocate such a spring flower in this desolate backwater, that may be, at any moment -- plucked?”

 I made sure to put enough emotion into my words to feign sincerity, but we both knew that a scandal was the last thing either of our careers needed.

“Captain, if you are asking me if he will fuck her, then you would know more about the disposition of Royals than me. If you are asking me if anyone in this village knows this land better than her, then I can answer that confidently. If this is a blackout, there is only so much topography can tell us. You would know that if you pulled your head from a book once in a while. And anyway, that’s part of the reason you are to go along with…” The Major strode across the room, his pacing a nervous tick “No, not to chaperone but to ensure that things are dealt with, with that decorum of yours. And I think all in all, someone his own age may benefit us. Should he wish to ‘open up.’ Don’t you agree?”

 So, he was playing a dangerous game then, who would have thought ambition to be alive in this old dog? Shame. If I wanted to play games I would have stayed in the capital. I quickly realised that if anyone in this scenario was imminently in line to getting fucked, it was me. I thought for a moment of asking for a small squad, perhaps two spotters and two gunners. But I think the less that know the better. Despite what people may think, I knew no less about tactics than I did about anything. And I knew a lot about everything. It was clear the Major was throwing her to the wolves and lining me up as scapegoat. He was only a boy the last I saw him, but I knew the capital bed cruel men in a short time, corpses in even shorter -- so he must have wits or venom.