The dust was thick near the ground. The marching of a thousand legions called it up as witness to their maneuvering. The heavy night sky was obscured by the smoke from all the attending fires. The flickering fires gladly threw bloody hues on dull leather and polished silver alike.
I stood somewhere in the encampment, blinking in confusion. I shouldn’t be here. I’m not ready. I turn my head and feel resistance from my clothes. Light and thin strips of metal augmented close flitting leathers. I’m in light armor. I’m holding the matching helm under an arm.
The armor won’t withstand a direct charge. I’m dressed for speed and agility. I would fit the role of scout. Or assassin. It depends on which weapon I have at hand. I have none.
The ranks drill in the distance. Couriers scramble from unit to unit. I hear the clanging of metal. No one notices me.
“You there! Come here, soldier!” One of the couriers come to me and salutes a greeting. “Which units are assigned here and where are the commanders?”
The soldier takes a breath to answer but is overruled. “Belay that order! Return to your duty!” A horse snorts behind me. The soldier salutes someone above and behind me, then returns to his frantic racing.
The black horse shimmered in unsourced moonlight and multi-sourced firelight. An officer of unknown rank looks down at me with an air of barely held derision. “Ma’am.” He nods a greeting in lieu of a salute. “Your escort is prepared. Say the word and the excursion begins.”
Escort? A strange fear tickles me. I’m not ready. “Where do I step that a military escort is required? I work best alone and unencumbered.” I hoped my voice did not reveal my anxiety.
The horse regards me steadily. The officer snorts a rebuttal. “Following orders, Ma’am. This here is a military institution. By all rights, you shouldn’t even be standing here. But orders are orders, and you have been given clearance to traverse the grounds to your next waypoint.”
He dragged out the pronunciation of the word, ‘military’. What is a synonym for ‘military’? ‘Martial’.
I’m not ready. My fear iced the bones in my legs. I used the chill to deaden my emotions. “Who gave the order, soldier? Whose rank do you speak so improperly of as to question their command?” His face twitched as I took on a superior cast. “By all rights, you shouldn’t be questioning an aspect of Mars. Not here. Not in Geburah.” His face darkened in anger but he said nothing. His horse danced a bit as it shifted its stance. The movement was one of humor and schadenfreude. “Well! Have you an answer or do I need to help you find the place you forgot it in?”
Far enough to not intrude but near enough to hear the conversation, three other officers sat on three black horses. Where the officer I was engaging was cocky and derisive, those officers were steelfaced and intense in their observation. I knew them to be of a higher rank than the possibly butter-bar (lieutenant) before me, but I could not identify what. The two outer officers each carried a ceremonial bundle of tied rods on the outside of their station. The inner officer carried nothing, but was distinguished by a red sash draped over iron-black armor.
The arrogant challenger leaned over the neck of his horse, ostensibly to whisper something crude and insulting to me.
The middle horse of the distant three officers stomped a hoof on the dust burdened ground.
The upstart aborted his words and sat stiffly upright in his saddle. “When you are ready, Ma’am, merely give the order to proceed. All preparations are complete for your journey. Your escort will ensure your safety to [unintelligible].”
“By whose command have I this escort?” The officer did not answer me, nor did he leave my side. “This is a solitary journey. I am to have none accompany except by explicit request. And I have requested none to come with.” He tightened his lips but still did not answer.
I turned to question the three officers, but they had left quietly and without my noticing.
“This isn’t like the Path of Vau. I have to do this alone.” I found myself on the verge of tears but I could not understand why. “And I’m not ready. If I was ready, I wouldn’t be afraid, right?” I’m terrified.
I grip the helmet under my arm tighter. “I’m not ready.”, I mutter under my breath. In the distance I see a part of the horizon that is darker than the rest. A corner of this realm where no amount of firelight would find dust to reflect off of. “And this isn’t going like I expected. Am I being challenged by the Abyss already?”
No answers came to me. The officer continued remaining silently on his mount. The horse continued remaining silently beside me. The units continued their drills. The dust played about the feet of all of us as silent witness.
I’m not ready.