AR13 Ch5 (Patreon)

Camp was called for an hour earlier than truly necessary, but no one went against Gregory’s order. The staff began to set up camp so they could cook. The sergeants had their men begin to set up the tents. When one of the staff came toward Gregory, lugging the heavy command tent over his shoulders, Gregory motioned the man back and then produced his fully set up tent from his ring.

“Return that to the wagon; it can live there,” Gregory said.

The man gawked at the tent's sudden appearance, but nodded and trotted off. Most of the unit looked just as poleaxed. Magi had spatial items, but it was known that they were very particular about what they stored in them. The fact Gregory had a fully set tent was shocking, and a few quickly began reevaluating Gregory based on him having one.

Gregory stood where he was, watching the unit work through getting their tents set. Everyone but him was sweating in the heat of the day. The water had been liberally handed out, as it had been every other day, but tonight there was no refilling of the barrels, which hadn’t been increased before they’d left the last town. He already knew that tomorrow would mean short tempers when the lack of extra water became known. Lessons would begin tonight and continue for the next few months for the entire unit. He had extra water in his ring, and he would ensure the men had their needs met, but he was going to make a point of things, subtly as Yukiko had taught him, but a point all the same.

Seeing things being managed, and with foresight to assist him, Gregory went in to check his tent. He slowly walked through the tent as he thought about his time in the north and what he’d faced there. It made him wish his old unit was still with him. If they were, he’d have been in a far better headspace, as none of the problems past, present, or future would be a thing. All the men from his unit, though, were advancing to higher positions and forming a solid core for new leadership within the clan’s magi guard units.

Gregory took a seat at the desk in the front part of his tent and began to write out his report of the trip. He had time to get the earliest parts of it in order before the first incident would happen. Nearly a half-hour later, Gregory stood, collected his unfinished report into his ring, then walked out of his tent. The scent of cooking was coming from the staff area as the men and women worked on the meal. He walked into the open area in the middle of the camp and began to limber up.

“Sir?” Ema asked from near her squad’s tent.

“It’s time for a lesson, Sergeant,” Gregory said as he let his haori vanish and pulled out his training naginata. “Sergeants,” he raised his voice, “bring your squads to attend.”

A couple of minutes later, the unit, mostly out of armor, was gathered by their tents. Gregory looked over each squad; the only ones not even remotely out of uniform yet were Ema’s squad. Balno’s squad only had one guy partially out of armor, while the others were far more undressed. Stullko was the only sergeant who’d already doffed his armor.

“Ladies, gentlemen,” Gregory said. “Over the last few weeks, I’ve watched, I’ve learned, I’ve had to step in more times than I care to report. There are problems in this unit, problems that will be corrected. But I am a fair man. My magic is foresight. Most of you have no idea what that truly means. But for some of you, you only care that it means I can’t incinerate, wind slash, or otherwise use it in a combat capacity. Now, I’m going to make a deal for anyone who wishes to accept it. I will remove the mentions of your actions from my report for anyone who wants to spar with me, and who can hit me with their weapon. This is a training moment, so striking me while sparring is not a problem from a disciplinary standpoint. Any takers?”

Stullko stepped forward right away. “We don’t have training weapons, sir.”

“Use your sword, sergeant. You won’t touch me. If you do, I have some potions, tonics, and salves to help ensure no one dies.”

Stullko turned around to go get his sword, as he didn’t have it on him.

Sergeants Dema and Jackow both stepped forward, they still had their swords on. Balno frowned but shook his head, and he caught the one man in his squad who was about to step forward, as others in the other units had. Balno’s terse whispered conversation had the man pale, and he stepped back again. Ema and her entire squad stayed where they were. His earlier warning to her had been passed around, and none of them were going to get involved. They hadn’t been negatively impacted during the trip as none of them had been dumb enough to cause problems under a new commander.

Captain Quiggly moved to Gregory’s side. “Sir, what if there’s an accident and you die? It would go badly for the men involved.”

“It’s good of you to think of the men, Captain.”

“Command would have my head for allowing this, sir.”

“Some would be horrified, others would celebrate,” Gregory chuckled. “There’s a letter in my tent that states my intentions. It is in my hand, which can be verified when compared against my previous reports, which none of you have seen. But it won’t come to that.”

“There are a dozen men wanting to spar with you. That’s twelve bare blades against your training weapon, and you aren’t wearing armor, and most of them are.”

“Lessons are being taught, Captain. That includes for you too,” Gregory said calmly. “I’ve heard your objection, noted it, and have informed you that I’m proceeding.”

Quiggly’s jaw tightened, and he stalked off.

The men all spread out in an arc in front of Gregory, but they waited for Stullko. When he returned, he moved ahead of all the others. “Any rules, sir?”

“Standard sparring rules. If you cut me, I’ll likely be calling it done. However, you need to act appropriately if I strike you as if my training weapon were a live blade. If you fail to do so, I will ensure any following attack can’t be ignored. Other than that, we spar as normal.”

“Understood,” Stullko said. The others nodded behind him.

Gregory took up a defensive stance and let a small knowing smile come to him as he opened foresight. “When you’re ready.”

Stullko came forward with a steady gait. He was focused and eager to cut Gregory as badly as he could without it being fatal. The others followed him, the few smarter ones fanning farther out to present a wider force. None of them were prepared for Gregory to attack first.

Jaws dropped, and eyes widened as Gregory launched himself at Stullko. The naginata caught the sword, wove it up and over, then the butt of the weapon slammed into the sergeant’s diaphragm, winding Stullko and dropping him to the ground, wheezing. The others took that to rush forward, but Gregory was already moving, weapon weaving a defensive barrier that forced multiple opponents into each other as he ducked and wove through other attacks, his naginata flashing out to clip ankles, knees, and elbows, rendering some of his men injured enough that they called themselves out.

The men against Gregory were reduced quickly until it was just the sergeants left. Jackow and Dema had backed off after being rebuffed the first time, and Stullko joined them as he’d caught his breath. Gregory kept the smile on his lips as he waited for them to attack again.

“How is that even possible?” Dema asked, his voice carrying a hint of disbelief.

“He was always a step ahead of us,” Jackow muttered. “It was like he was toying with us.”

“Focus,” Stullko growled. “We can manage this; we just have to go hard. He said he can heal, so don’t hold back.”

The other two exchanged a glance, and their hands tightened on their swords. They hadn’t wanted to cripple or kill Gregory, but they were willing to cut him far worse now.

Gregory saw what was coming, but he didn’t twitch. It was a dirty move, but Stullko had committed to it now. When the trio came forward again, Stullko’s left hand went behind his back, as the men closed in, his hand whipped around, and the throwing knife came flying at Gregory’s chest. Gregory shifted the foot to the left just as Stullko’s arm came around so the knife flew past him and into his tent. Gasps went up from around the area at the attack. But the other two had already started attacking and couldn’t stop now.

Three seconds is what it took for Gregory to disarm the other two and then begin dismantling Stullko. Stullko was shocked the knife missed and then bewildered when his allies both fell back clutching their wrists, but then Gregory was on him, and he defended himself, or tried to. The blows came hard and unrelenting as his ankles, knees, elbows, and wrists were all systematically hit hard enough to stress the joints. Stullko collapsed to the ground, and Gregory stopped the last strike an inch from Stullko’s bowed head.

“Foresight means I always know what is going to happen,” Gregory said calmly. “Captain, come here.”

Quiggly came rushing forward, eyes wide. “Sir?”

“None of these men are to be disciplined…except for Stullko. If he hadn’t thrown that knife, I wouldn’t have him punished either, but that wasn’t a normal sparring move. He’s to be relieved of command until he’s healed naturally, which should take three weeks, as I injured him a little more than necessary. His attempt to injure me will be reported, but depending on his actions in the coming weeks, I won’t have him dragged before a tribunal.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gregory then looked over the entire camp, from the shocked faces of his unit to the civilians. “Foresight isn’t perfect, but the more certain a future, the easier it is to see. I have kept my men as alive as possible before, and I will do so again. But you will comport yourselves with the honor and dignity of your station. If you besmirch your uniform, your squad, the unit, and me, I will ensure you have another lesson, and it won’t be as pleasant as today’s. However, if you can begin to act the way you should, then I will ensure your duty is far more pleasant. Dismissed.”