Private Soldiers
By the time every last nose had been thoroughly broken, the sun was already sinking. The courtyard of Joseph's house was splattered here and there with the young men's blood.
The village chief looked thoroughly displeased. From his perspective, Joseph siphoning off the village's young labor was hardly a welcome development. Joseph, of course, couldn't have cared less about the man's glare.
He was already overlaying his past self onto Derik — and overlaying the Doran Village chief onto the chief of Bari Village. In Joseph's mind, the man was already a bastard who needed killing.
You son of a bitch.
When the test was over, Refn had three left standing. Derik, Auk, and Jiren. All three of them looked like hell, which was exactly how viciously they'd thrown themselves at the soldiers. Even so, bleeding as they were, their faces weren't dark.
Finally, we can crawl out of this shit life!
That sentiment was written plainly across their faces.
Joseph looked at the three of them standing in a row in the courtyard.
"Answer carefully. Why did you apply to become private soldiers?"
Their expressions turned uneasy. Fair enough. They'd thought the interview was over, only to be ambushed with a second round out of nowhere. And the question itself was the kind of garbage you'd get at a corporate interview — So, why do you want to work here? Even modern job-seekers who spent weeks prepping for interviews had to stop and think about that one. A handful of backwater village kids never stood a chance.
"W-well, I…"
Nobody had a clean answer. Whether to be honest or dress it up into something impressive — the struggle was written all over them.
Either way, it doesn't really matter.
Ordinarily, a question like this was meant to gauge an applicant's capability. But what kind of preparation could anyone have done for a posting that had gone up a single day ago? Joseph just wanted to see their attitude. How desperate they were was their own business. If their temperament was rotten, he couldn't use them as private soldiers. You could train a man all you wanted, but someone whose fundamental nature was warped would always hit a ceiling.
They might even get cocky about it.
They'd gotten beaten half to death just to pass the test — they might well snap back and ask why he was grilling them with something like this. Patience was a thing you learned, and these were men who'd never been taught a thing.
But contrary to Joseph's expectations, the three of them just rolled their eyes around, scrambling for an answer. They weren't wondering why he'd asked. They were wondering what the right answer was. At the very least, none of them seemed to have the kind of head that could read a questioner's intent.
Joseph didn't press them. He waited. The soldiers stood quietly at his side and waited too.
Then Derik suddenly stepped forward, and opened his mouth in a loud, clear voice.
"I want to leave this village!"
"Why?"
"Because I'm an orphan, sir."
"And that's relevant because…?"
"That's why I can work harder than anyone!"
Joseph nodded. He'd already known all of that, so it didn't particularly move him. But answering that honestly, that bluntly — Derik didn't seem like the type with much cunning to him.
When Joseph gave no further reaction, Derik's mouth worked soundlessly. He'd clearly summoned up a fair bit of courage to be that frank, and Joseph's lack of response had thrown him.
Once Derik had gone first, the one called Auk opened his mouth right after.
"I want to become your minion, Mage!"
"Minion?"
"Yes, sir! If I can aid a mage of such great renown, it would be the greatest honor of my life!"
Unlike Derik, he'd gone the flattery route.
When the hell has he even seen me, calling me renowned?
It was so blatant that Joseph felt more like laughing than flattered. Still, the fact that Auk had watched Derik's reception and adjusted accordingly suggested the boy had at least some sense.
"I see."
Joseph nodded again, and nothing more. Auk swallowed.
"And you?"
Joseph turned his gaze to Jiren last. The boy rolled his eyes this way and that, then scratched his head.
"Uh… can I just… not have a reason?"
"Come again?"
Every pair of eyes in the courtyard swung toward him at that vacant answer. Jiren scratched his cheek this time and added,
"My parents told me to apply, so I did. I don't really know the reason."
Derik and Auk stared at him like he was an idiot. You applied to be a mage's private soldier and that's the best you can come up with? The soldiers looked equally speechless.
Joseph, on the other hand, was inwardly marvelling the moment the words left Jiren's mouth.
This one's a gem!
Tell him to do it, and he does it. Doesn't even know why, and he does it anyway. And he's got the stubbornness to grind through it without flinching — even when he's bleeding. In the modern world, a first sergeant would have looked at a man like this with genuine affection.
No initiative to speak of — but he'll do exactly as he's told.
Joseph nodded once more, and the three of them glanced at each other. Whether any of them had passed, what they were supposed to do next — they had no idea.
Joseph looked them over and thought it through.
At the very least, none of them seem like complete washouts.
Then again, the soldiers administering the test had broken every last nose in the bunch. Anyone sly enough to have worried him had apparently been filtered out already.
"Don't be so tense. All three of you passed."
Their faces lit up at once.
"W-whoa!"
"Thank you, sir!"
They bowed at the waist immediately. More precisely, Derik and Auk bowed first, and Jiren followed a beat late.
"You've already heard the terms."
Five silver coins a month. Wages that put an ordinary farmer to shame. The figure reflected Joseph's situation as a wanderer. If he said they were leaving, they left. If he said they were staying, they stayed. Joseph did intend to settle down someday, but even he had no idea when that someday would be. Until then, there was no telling how long he'd be on the road — and along the way, they'd naturally run into all kinds of danger. Joseph had no intention of throwing himself into harm's way if he could help it, but it wasn't as if the world always asked his permission. They'd need compensation enough to make them willing to follow him through all of that.
The three of them looked more than a little stunned when they heard the number. They'd known they'd be paid, but the amount was well beyond what they'd imagined. An ordinary farmer could take that monthly wage and loaf for a full year. Their mouths began to twitch. Something they'd dreamed of — no, something beyond what they'd dreamed of — was starting.
"Of course, if you don't suit me, I'll throw you out on the spot."
Anyone who fell out of favor would be dumped in the nearest village and left behind. Unlike the sick soldiers, these three had all their limbs intact. They'd have to stay in Joseph's good graces first, or there wouldn't be a next step.
"Yes, sir!"
They answered at the top of their lungs.
The next day, just as Refn had promised, they began proper training under the soldiers. Since they'd be escorting Joseph, the first thing shoved into their hands was a shield.
Though calling it training was generous. It was more like beating the freeze out of a bunch of terrified kids and screaming at them.
"Hey! I told you to keep your damn feet straight! You think this is a picnic? You wanna go home?"
"Sorry? Why the hell would you do something you'd have to be sorry for?"
"This little shit's got some nerve! Fuck, get down!"
The soldiers tore into the private soldiers like fish in water. Joseph had seen Auger's retainers walking on eggshells around these men before, and now he understood why.
Jesus fucking Christ…
Some godawful memory rose unbidden from the back of his mind, and he shuddered despite himself.
Joseph looked on, faintly nauseated, and Refn stepped up beside him and murmured,
"This way, later on, even the smallest kindness from you will earn their enormous gratitude, Mage."
To a modern man like Joseph, it was a staggering piece of psychological theory. But this was a world where that kind of bullshit logic came baked in as a passive. In a world without education, it was the only teaching method there was.
"If you think it's unfair, you're free to leave."
Refn said as much, but nobody left. He'd picked stubborn breeds, and it showed. Far from being cowed, the three of them were even competing with each other, quietly.
Who got beaten less by the soldiers. Who shoveled down their food faster. It was a thoroughly asinine competition, but Joseph didn't mind it. Recruits being idiots was a given — and this was a good chance to lock in a clear ranking among the three of them.
Unlike Derik, who'd been the village orphan, Auk and Jiren were ordinary farmers' sons. Which meant an invisible class line had already been drawn between them long ago. Joseph knew perfectly well how orphans were treated. But they weren't in the village anymore. They held new positions under Joseph, and the old hierarchy no longer meant a thing. The three of them knew it too — which was exactly why they were grinding their teeth, trying to outdo each other.
It'd be nice if one of them emerged as a leader.
If one of the three became a focal point for the private soldiers, it'd make giving orders a lot easier. Joseph waited for a naturally superior one to surface.
That said…
He couldn't help quietly rooting for Derik. That much was inevitable.
A few more days passed, and Joseph took them to a nearby forest. A light hunt, just enough to get a read on their level. For the occasion, he issued them the least battered pieces from the bandits' loot. Battered leather armor, wooden shields, and clubs — that was all they got, but it was more than enough to get them excited. Looking something like actual soldiers, they had to work not to grin, the corners of their mouths twitching. Smile for no reason and the regulars would tear into them.
Derik, Auk, and Jiren took the front with their shields. Joseph stood behind them. Refn and the soldiers followed, keeping watch on all sides.
They weren't heading into anything particularly dangerous, and yet the moment they entered the forest, their steps slowed. All three were visibly tense. Forming up as a mage's shield wall was far more nerve-racking than they'd imagined. They moved at a crawl, as if searching the dark for something they couldn't see, and everyone behind them had no choice but to slow down with them.
Still a long way to go.
He hadn't expected perfection after a few days of training, but these three were wound far too tight. Anyone watching would have thought they were about to fight a demonic beast.
"Get your heads on straight! Watch your damn feet. You trip, the mage's wide open!"
The soldiers, having seen enough, started barking at them again. Only then did the three glance back at Joseph standing behind them and tighten their grip on the shields. It seemed they'd just realized that the scarier thing was standing at their backs.
They caught a few rabbits and headed back to the village.
"Anyone here know how to dress a kill?"
Derik raised his hand. Auk and Jiren shot him a look. They'd hunted animals before, but they'd never butchered one themselves. All they knew was how to bring the meat home to the women of the house. They were still young enough that no one had taught them how to break down a carcass. Derik, by contrast, had done every filthy job there was on his own, and it showed. Their faces soured at the thought that he'd stolen a march on them. Derik, for his part, let out a dry little laugh. It was a grim irony that being worked like a dog as the village chief's slave had actually come in handy.
"Dry the meat and store it. Take the hides into the village and sell them."
He hadn't named anyone in particular, but Auk stepped forward at once. When the target isn't specified, the one with the quickest wits scores the points. Jiren, the only one who hadn't picked up a single point, scratched his head.