“It would be easier,” Marta said quietly, “to make a decision on rationing if we knew a solution for the food shortage was at hand. I know what I’m asking you to consider is hard, Simon, but these are the times when you—when we”—she looked around the room—“need to trust in our faith. What we are doing is fair and just.”
“Tell that to those Templar that died last night,” Cuddy snarled. “Tell that to the men and women who’ll have to take on extra shifts to pick up the slack. Or the young trainees who won’t have the benefit of their full tutelage before they’re asked to shed their blood.”
“Enough,” Simon said.
All of them quieted at once and looked at him. He didn’t often take command of the meetings so directly. He felt uncomfortable pulling rank.
“We’re recanting the rationing,” Simon said. That hadn’t been his idea to begin with. It had been theirs—all except Marta.
“I don’t think—” Cuddy began.
Simon raised his voice and continued speaking. “We’re going to send out more hunting parties. We’ll work farther afield than where we’ve been hunting. We’ll also double up on the number of hunters.”
“That’s going to leave us possibly shorthanded here,” Carlyle said. He was ever the tactician himself. “Or the Templar worn to their bones.”
“We’ll supplement the hunting parties from the men and women here at the redoubt that know how to hunt or are willing to be trained.” Simon shook his head. “It’s something that I should have thought of before.”
“You don’t want unarmored civilians walking around out there,” Genevieve said.
“They’re better out hunting than here starving,” Simon replied.
“We swore that we’d protect these people,” Carlyle objected. “Telling them they have to risk their lives isn’t defending them.”
“We are protecting them,” Simon responded in a loud voice. “We fight the demons, and we take the greatest chances. That hasn’t changed. That’s not going to change.”
Silence echoed his words, and he knew they were shocked. They don’t have to supervise the funerals later, he thought bitterly.
“We can’t protect them by asking them to starve to death,” Marta said quietly. She stood taller. “I, for one, quite understand Lord Cross’s take on this matter. It isn’t particularly elegant or esthetically pleasing, but it is the right thing to do.”
“I won’t allow anyone to be forced into hunting,” Simon said. “We’ll present the opportunity at general assembly. Those who are willing to help will be trained and outfitted with armor as best as we can manage.” He paused. “The bottom line is that we need help saving these people. They can help us help them.”
In the end, there were no more arguments. Whether they liked his handling of the situation or not, they knew he was right.
“I want to be a knight, Lord Cross.”
Simon stared into the wide eyes of the six-year-old boy seated across from him. Talking to the young civilians was hardest for him. It wasn’t that they were brave. They were fearless in the invulnerability of their youth, and that only made their offers more heartbreaking.
Even worse, the Templar needed the young ones most of all. Adults and teenagers learned too slowly. Older Templar candidates couldn’t be trained to simply react without thinking. Demons could be incredibly fast, and the difference between surviving and being a casualty could be a nanosecond.
Simon knelt with one knee resting on the floor of the small office he’d claimed for his own. Danielle stood nearby and didn’t say a word. From the conversations they’d had over the past few months since they’d started bringing the civilian children into the classes with the Templar children, she was as torn by the decision as he was.
“You’re Chandler, aren’t you?” Simon asked. He didn’t even need a prompt from the suit’s AI to get the boy’s name. He made it a point to know all of those that had been at the redoubt for more than a few weeks.
Shock widened the boy’s blue eyes. “You know who I am?”
Simon nodded. He had his helmet at his side and went bareheaded inside the redoubt so that any who saw him would know who he was. Being visible helped keep him in touch with those within the redoubt on a day-to-day basis.
“I do.” Simon nodded at the boy’s mother seated in one of the chairs before his metal desk. “Your mother’s name is Nancy. Your father’s name is Craig, and we’re still looking for him.”
A solemn look tightened the boy’s face. Tears swam in his eyes. “I know. You’ll find him one day. I know you will.”
Simon didn’t know what to say to that. With so much time gone, over eight months now, only a child would hold on to so much hope.
“Why do you want to be a knight?” Simon asked.
“To fight the demons,” Chandler answered. He thought for a moment. “I’m going to have to fight the demons anyway, so I think it would be better if I knew more on how to fight them. Don’t you agree?”
Simon heard the affected grown-up tone in the boy’s words and knew that Chandler had given the matter a lot of thought before he’d requested a meeting. Surprisingly, most of the children who came forward had thought about the matter long and hard. In many cases, their thoughts surprised their parents.
Looking away from the boy for just a moment, Simon held Chandler’s mother’s eyes. Quietly, tears trickling down her cheeks, the woman nodded.
No mother should have to give her child over to something like this, Simon thought. Templar children and parents were different. They stayed immersed in the same world, male and females. But the civilian parents gave up time and a certain amount of control over their children. The Templar education, when taken by outsiders, was a rude
