“Of course,” I said, though this seemed a little strange to me. Why would my overseers defer to my high cleric? I realized there was a lot I still didn’t know about gnomish hierarchies. But there’d be time to figure it out later.
“Once everyone was settled, as you know, Coll and I left. But,” Ket continued quickly, not wanting to re-stoke my disapproval, “when we came back, Gneil was arguing with Hammer. Hoppit got involved. She stuck up for Gneil—of course—and after a bit more back and forth they all started issuing orders.”
“For the camp to be assembled like this? But why?”
Her wings fluttered as she shrugged.
Huh. When I tried to communicate to Ket that hostiles were on the way… is it possible that Gneil picked up the warning instead? And prepared for attack from either ground or sky?
That was interesting. But Bekkit’s voice prevented from pursuing that line of thought.
“If I may make a suggestion…”
I sighed. “You can always make suggestions.” Whether I’ll act on them is another thing altogether.
“Your armed contingent has just two officers. Both are drill sergeants. Correct?”
“Right. Hammer and Graywall.”
“I’m not sure how familiar you are with military hierarchy and roles…” On the contrary, his tone suggested he was fully aware I knew absolutely nothing about that stuff.
“Spit it out. What am I doing wrong and how do I fix it?”
The sprite seemed surprised. “Well, it’s just that drill sergeants are typically used only to train new warriors, not direct them in battle. They may act as regular sergeants when an army is large enough to be broken down into smaller squads, but generally warriors are led by commanding officers like captains and lieutenants.”
“Huh. So you’re saying it’s time for some reshuffling?”
“That would be prudent.”
The warriors were already split between groups for the duration of the exodus. I didn’t want to confuse things too much by assigning them into different fighting squads as well. Besides, to do so didn’t make sense with our army as small as it was right now. I said as much to Bekkit.
“Reasonable,” he agreed. “However, the presence of commanding officers provides bonuses to your warriors while in combat, much like a high cleric motivates acolytes. It may be worth promoting a couple of your best fighters to sergeant even if you do not intend to form squads. And an army should have a single general regardless of its size.”
Bored of his explanation, Ket had already flitted away to check in on Ris’kin. Benin was equally uninterested in military-themed discussion, and sloped off to disassemble his and Coll’s tent. The emberfox skulked several paces behind him as usual.
Coll stayed behind, chatting affectionately to his new dire badger friends while keeping one ear on our conversation. The gnomes continued to pack up camp around us while we perused my options.
Back when I’d promoted Hammer and Graywall, ‘drill sergeant’ had been the only officer vocation available given our then-rookie warriors’ lack of skills. Now, though, my army’s combined skill levels in melee and ranged combat fulfilled the prerequisites for assigning a general, as well as a maximum of two regular sergeants.
But who to promote?
Hammer and Graywall were my most experienced warriors. Furthermore, both had experience in directing units in battle. Drill sergeants were only needed for training new troops, which we wouldn’t have for a while. It made sense for me to make them regular sergeants, at least.
But something held me back. When I expressed my uncertainty, Coll surprisingly agreed.
“Just because they’re good drill sergeants don’t mean they’d make good commanding officers,” he pointed out. “Different set of skills, you know? If they’re good at what they do—which is training other fighters—then why not let ‘em keep doing it? Promote others who’ve shown strong leadership instead.”
After a brief discussion, the three of us unanimously agreed that Serene and Magnus should be granted the captain vocation. Both were well-respected among their peers, both were excellent—albeit very different—fighters, and according to Coll both had acquitted themselves well when responding to Gneil’s warning and Hoppit’s orders.
It seemed the latter had been instrumental in making sure the tribe was as prepared for the latest attack as possible. If she hadn’t been there to listen to Gneil…
I pushed away the guilty feeling that I was rewarding her for her relationship with my high cleric. Nepotism much? But it wasn’t as though that were the only basis on which I was promoting her. The savvy slinger had proved her worth on many occasions, and was more than suited for the role of our small army’s general.
“We’re almost ready to go,” said Ket. “How are you doing?”
Her tone was bright, but I also sensed wariness. She was worried I was still angry at her. I was, kind of, but we had much bigger things to think about right now.
We’d been led by the nose. Something had intended for us to follow those badger tracks; to get us far enough away from the convoy for the others to attack it without Ris’kin being there to help. Something wanted to hurt us; there was a greater intelligence behind this, and I seriously doubted it was the tormented badger queen we’d killed.
“I’m worried,” I admitted to Ket. Then I raised my voice so Bekkit and the humans would hear.
“Something strange is afoot. We have to be extra careful from now on.”
It felt odd saying such things in the daylight. It was barely mid-morning; above the branches, the sky was pale blue and clear, the autumn sun clean and bright (though not bright enough to make me flinch any more).
I added one last warning. “No more unauthorized trips away from the tribe, okay?”
Benin immediately began to protest.
“I’m not saying you can’t ever leave,” I clarified. “You don’t need to ask permission to empty your bladder or anything. Just make sure you let me know before you whisk either
