Chapter 487
Chapter 487
487 Supplies
“Do you know why the lowest rank of the military is called a private?” Bigni asked.
I blinked. “I have some guesses, but they’re probably all wrong. The term is... new... ish, as such things go. I think from just before the Dragon Age.”
He nodded. “Hans Grueber, the Bow Hero. It comes from the Itinar word that became privation.”
“I don’t see how.” I said. “Privation is... suffering, is it not?”
“And who suffers more in a military than the rank and file?” He asked.
I squinted. “Slaves, for one.”
Bigni chuckled. “Ragnal would never tell you this, but you are no slave. Given time... and training, you might even become a hero.”
“I’ve met heroes.” I said. “Most of them are dead.”
“Heroes?” he asked. “Plural?”
.....
“Plural.” I said. “I met the crew once led by Adara the Blue.”
He shook his head. “I’ve not heard of them. Are you certain they were actual heroes, and not champions with swollen heads?”
I paused. How DID they measure up to Xinyi Shi? “Maybe.” I said, “But I’m inclined to believe their claims.”
Actually, HAD any of them claimed to be heroic levels? Had any of them discussed levels with me?
It turns out I hadn’t talked that much with any of them about such things.
The more I learned in this world, the more things I realized I had taken for granted, and did not truly know. Would you recognize a tenth level Farmer? A housekeeper? How would you know?
“You seem to be thinking deeply.” he said.
“Sorry.” I said. “Sorry, I’m paying attention again.”
“I can see that.” he said. “But yes, even Heroes and the Legendary Heroes are mortal, some more than others. Eventually, each of them dies and passes on to the afterlife.”
“Which afterlife?” I asked. “I hear much of the damnation of hells, but it also seems to me that they can’t be taking in everyone. Otherwise, how would we hear of so many different heavens?”
“Many things I can teach you.” Bigni said. “But the truth of the afterlife would have to come from someone who knows about it. We were talking about you, and your potential.”
“Okay.” I said.
“No.” he said, “It is not just okay. You are the first person I’ve met to give me any hope that humanity is anything other than fodder for the coming age.”
I was... oh, brother.
He continued. “Actually, how did we get on the topic of you?”
“Privation.” I said, “And how it pertains to privates.”
He clacked his fangs, much like humans will snap their fingers. “Ah, yes. Privates are the primary work horses of the military. Or is it plow horses?”
“I think both are proper, though work horses is the usual phrasing.”
“Hm. Serves me right, coming from a land of hunters rather than agrarians. And that comes into the equation soon. But let us return to track. We who are professional soldiers prepare ourselves, mentally and physically, for the hardships of the military.”
“But the citizen soldiers don’t?” I asked.
“It’s not really their fault.” he said. “This isn’t their life, not as they foresaw it. And, compared with what they were promised, their time in the military is overly unpleasant. Those miserable clerics. May Loki fuck them in their eye sockets.”
“Is this where I say ‘All glory to Loki’?”
“If you want a good educational clout on the ear, sure.” he said, brandishing a fist. “But, you see, from their point of view, they were promised...”
He spread his hands, to indicate, well, everything.
“They were promised land. Fertile, warm lands, so rare in our nation, yet so very common here.”
I blinked. “That’s incredibly generous of them, considering this is not their land to give away.”
He snorted. “Don’t let the faithful hear you speaking that way.”
“You were just speaking blasphemy!”
“Indeed.” he said. “And tell me, are you one of the blessed people?”
There is a reason humans don’t normally clack their teeth together. “Mrng.” I said, massaging my lips.
“That looked painful.” he chuckled.
“I have a high pain tolerance.” I said.
“A good case in point, though.” he said. “What would that feel like without your pain tolerance? Do you remember what pain was like before you were used to it?”
“Loki can fuck pain in the eye sockets.”
He snorted. “Not the orifice I think he prefers, but well said. Now, imagine everything in the military was like that. The pain, the fatigue, the hunger, the bugs, the sweating and marching and especially the fighting.”
“The citizen soldiers want our land that badly?” I asked. “Most of it isn’t even good farmland.”
“True, and they aren’t the best farmers, as I said earlier. They were thinking of hunting grounds, most likely. These farmsteads your kind keeps here weren’t the sort of lands they were expecting. So. Imagine. You have endured torture, for weeks, and what you were promised as pay doesn’t exist.”
“Good gods.” I said, making a conscious effort to keep my pace steady.
“Remember. There is no true god but Loki.” Bigni said. “But yes, that in a nutshell is perhaps three quarters of the discontent.”
“And the remainder?” I asked.
“Heh. Guess.”
“The priesthood?”
“Not in and of itself, no.” he said. “But rather, what happens to those released from the army and granted lands?”
“I’d imagine they have to grow their own... food.”
Merciless gods, I was an idiot.
“What do they eat while growing crops to harvest in the fall?” I asked.
“I...” he was silent for six paces. “Not the point, but it’s a good question. I suppose if it were an issue, someone would have complained about it. So, again from their point of view, some people are getting crappy rewards that don’t measure up and the rest of them are stuck here, fighting those walls.”
“Narrow Valley isn’t known for its fortifications.”
“Perhaps not, but what do those look like to a citizen?”
“Oh.” I said, “And the fact that the professional soldiers have already tried and failed...”
“Yes. They see how long it’s going to take, and the amount they’re actually getting paid, and the amount of work it might take even once they have that small parcel of land. And who do they blame for that?”
“The church, and the cheating priesthood that lied to them?”
“Heh. Remember, all powerful Loki is behind them. So who do they hate instead?”
Crap. “The soldiers. Us.”
He smiled broadly at me. “So, how important is it that we get you decent armor, possibly a few shields if they have them?”
“If citizens are already willing to attack in ones and twos, it’s only a matter of time before someone gets them organized.” I said. “And then...”
“And then,” Bigni said, “there will be an interesting night and the day that follows. Then, there may very well be enough land for those citizens that remain alive.”
I blinked. “That’s terrible military strategy. And having a populace near rioting is no way to settle new lands.”
“Ah.” he said, “But what if there were another, secret goal?”
“Only the one?” I asked.
He rolled his shoulders, tugging on his armor. “Very well. You understand our culture better than you let on, then. So. Tell me what I’m thinking.”
What had I learned of their culture? How did a hobgoblin soldier think?
It’s easier than I make it sound; don’t overthink it.
“They WANT this effort to fail.” I said.
“Exactly.”
“That’s not even sane!” I said. “The cost in troops and gear and...”
I sighed. “Some idiot wants to weaken the military.”
“Always, there is some idiot who wants that.” he agreed.
“This isn’t even about the Achean people. We’re just a convenient excuse.”
“Well,” he said, “it’s not about all of your people. But it IS about that monster they sent to us about three or so years back.”
“What?” I said, “Rakkal’s pet lizard?”
He closed his eyes for four footsteps. “The way the clergy describe him... That thing is nobody’s pet. If for no other reason, we’d be here to locate and kill it.”
.....
“All the more reason to... hey, what were the Kathani promised? The Kamajeen?”
“If you live in the sand, what would you do with the land east of the river Atla?”
“That’s just... oh.” I said. “That hardscrabble land probably looks like a garden to them.”
“And what if they think they can get us to do some of the work, and then take all of these Tidelands?”
“Why would they think that?” I asked.
He blinked. “We think they are merely humans. Do you honestly think most of them think of us as anything more than hobgoblins?”
“Bwagh.” I said, grinding the palms of my hands into my eyelids. “So it’s just a matter of who betrays whom first? This plan becomes more dumb the more I hear of it.”
“Never underestimate the ability of large groups to make overly complicated plans.” he told me.
“How does any nation function like that?” I asked.
“Better than your nation does.” he said. “Notice, we are conquering you.”
I noticed no such thing, but not all truths need to be told.