"The boy is the only reason we were able to hold for this long during the day, after all... For the enemy to be growing even stronger. It does not bode well," the officer murmured.
"I expect that things will not continue this way for much longer," the Captain said cryptically. The officer looked up sharply at that. The Captain smiled at him. "I plan to set the boy loose, this evening, after all."
From a Captain that hardly smiled, It was a look to make the officer shiver. He would have asked a follow-up question, but Beam had already strolled over, after hoping up the deep trench with a single leap.
His clothes were stained with blood and filth. They looked ready to be burned rather than washed. The officer could not imagine any bath managing to get the boy clean again. It was hard to tell just what colour his skin was underneath all that filth.
With a motion of his head, Lombard dismissed the officer. The man saluted again and scarpered away.
"No Tolsey?" Beam asked, glancing around. He hadn't seen the Vice-Captain since midday, when they'd seen the Half-Titan together.
"No. I've set Tolsey about other tasks. How do you fare? Exhausted?"
Beam flexed his fingers. "I feel fine."
"From that look in your eye, you're planning to go into the village, yes?" Lombard asked. "That girl has already been hard at work, gathering information on those missing children. She's roused half the village to her cause. They've been moving like an army."
"And? Did they find anything?" Beam asked, his eyes urgent.
"We're in agreement, Captain," Beam said, without even his usual hint of mirth at being corrected. He turned to leave there and then, his flagging energy all but restored. Finally, they had a chance to verify those suspicions they had of the Elder. But before he went, he remembered something. "What about the battlefront? Can your men defend it by themselves?"
"Ah," Lombard nodded. "Good of you to worry about that. I had imagined that you'd leave straight away, to see to this cause of yours. But you needn't worry about my men. They are far hardier than they look. Besides, I think it's about time I joined the fray."
He drew his sword to accent his words. Beam was struck by a notion of rightness, as Lombard stood there, sword in hand. His blade was as simple as Beam's. It had none of the gaudy decorations that one would expect from a noble. It thoroughly matched the personality of its master.
The Captain exuded strength, when the sword was in his hand like that. He unbuckled some of his aura as his sword sat there. A feeling of strength washed over Beam. A quiet and charismatic strength – a strength that emboldened allies. Beam was struck by an urge to see the Captain in combat.
"The night is yours, boy," Lombard said. "Bring me something decisive. I will hold back the enemy in your place."
Beam nodded seriously, and clenched his fist. "Consider it done."
"There's a squadron of men waiting for you on the outskirts of camp, towards the village. They've been told to take your orders," Lombard told him. As he said those words, he wondered if the boy would understand the significance of such a thing – for members of the Serving Class to be taking orders from peasants. But Beam showed no hint of surprise. He merely nodded.
"If you understand, then be off with you," Lombard said with a flick of his wrist. "I've battling to do, and stresses to get rid of."
Beam set off towards the edge of camp at a jog. He'd targeted the village square in his mind. He wanted to meet up with Nila as soon as possible, and gather any information that she had first-hand. There was also another reason: he would have felt bad leaving her out of something so big.
The further he went away from the centre of the camp, the more things darkened. Not all the torches had been lit yet, and the majority of the men had been busy for the day, ensuring that the defences to the north were complete and adequate.