Having it put to him like that, Tolsey couldn't help but blush in embarrassment. His intention hadn't been to undermine all the Captain's years of experience, after all.
"Or maybe it is the boy that you have qualms with? Leaving such a duty to a peasant, after all?" Lombard mused, a touch of sympathy in his voice.
Slowly, Tolsey nodded. "It just seems too sudden – and it goes against much of what we are taught. You're almost giving him the freedom of an officer, despite him being a member of the peasantry. He's sworn no vows of loyalty, he isn't even enlisted amongst the troops."
Realizing that what he said sounded harsh, he turned to Beam to apologize. "I'm sorry for saying it in front of you, boy..."
Beam shrugged. "I don't mind. It makes sense for you nobles to care more about that than the rest of us."
It took a great effort for Tolsey to point out it was only Beam who seemed not to care – everyone else they came in contact with followed the due social procedures, whilst remaining hyper-conscious of their rank.
"A vow of loyalty, hm?" Lombard murmured, his expression darkening. "I do not believe they are worth all that much."
With that darkened tone, Tolsey nearly shuddered. He decided to nod grimly, and trust in his Captain's judgement. "I will do as you say, captain, and hope that I might learn something from this experience."
The Captain merely nodded, leaving the conversation at that. He called out to the sergeants that were still on duty.
"Take your men and rest. Bring two squadrons worth of men to take your place. The boy will be taking care of the front line until dusk," the Captain said.
"Well, it is partly my fault for dragging you into this," Beam said, a little more sympathetically than he normally would. He usually wasn't opposed to giving Judas more work to do, but after that morning's antics, he was beginning to feel a twinge of guilt that he'd got the man wrapped up in all this, even if it seemed to be for the greater good.
"As long as you keep me alive, I'll forgive ya," Judas said with a grin.
Beam walked through the campsite, as the sunset on the distant horizon, and the world grew darker.
Several fires were already lit, and soldiers were gathered around, sharing drink – they were allowed a small amount of alcohol, depending on when their next shift was due – and hot soup, and roasted meat.
The mood about the camp was far more positive than it had been a few days ago.
"They were meant to be spending their winter back in Ernest, with the wives and families – a brief reprieve from the war. Instead, they got drafted here, to deal with the Yarmdon threat," Tolsey explained to him, as they walked through the camp together. "They were rowdy from that, as might be expected, but they've calmed down a good deal since you've been taking on so much work."
He looked sympathetic as he noted the amount of work Beam was doing. Again, Beam finished the day drenched in blood and filth. It was his second full day of work with the army, and the monsters had shown no signs of slowing.
"How is the work? Are you managing alright? It should be catching up to you by now, no?" Tolsey pressed.
Beam shrugged. "I'm sleeping well enough, and eating well enough. The work isn't too gruelling."
When he said that, he meant it. It wasn't too different to how he would have normally spent his days training and patrolling. In fact, it might have even been easier, for there were often brief reprieves in between each wave of monsters, enough time to catch his breath and calm himself, and think of new ideas that he might want to try.