Squad Headquarters

Kurl watched Adam wake up. The wood slat bed creaked loudly with every shift.

Fork poked a sausage off a plate stained with scattered grease bubbles. The ding rang through the cell before Roxanne ate another sausage.

A new clay mortar dried around bricks patching the wall. The cell was cleaned of any trace of chalk, or limestone, or even dust. A cleaning crew of Zinnian scrubbed every surface to a chalk-free polish.

The crusted patch stuck over Adam’s nose with gauze wrapped around his head and stuck to skin with strips of rubber-coated fabric tape. Adam winced on touching it. Crusted blood fell from the sticky gauze.

More sausages and a large bratwurst pushed into Roxanne’s mouth. The full plates emptied quickly. Buttered bread rested across a plate along with a full roasted chicken, yet untouched. The scent filled the cell.

“Welcome to your new dispatch headquarters,” Kurl said.

“What, this is my cell? Why am I not in the infirmary? New dispatch headquarters? What are you even talking about?”

“This structure is practically a supply depot. So long as we keep you from limestone among other things on our down time, they agreed to let you join.”

“No, no, no! I’m a duke’s son. I have a private cell for a reason!”

“You have a private cell because your material is everywhere! You blew that when you tried to escape. Now we’re bunkmates, and the reason you’re not dead.”

“Hrrnnn,” Adam groaned.

“You were treated here. They cleaned your sigil. It’s stronger now. Should you even attempt to try the same trick again, you’re not the only one who’ll die. You’ll be killing your squad mates. I want you to remember that before your next escape plan hatches.”

“I’m not trying to die. I’m not trying to get you killed. I’m trying to honor someone important. It took me months to dampen my sigil, and you destroyed my work in a moment,” Adam clenched his fists and looked at his lap, fresh blood stained his gauze, “But that’s not on you people. I was sloppy.”

“That’s what I like to hear. We’re all inmates here. We all have our problems. But we all have good reasons to get stronger. I’m sorry about your nose. But I’ll do it again if you look like you’re getting out of line. Are you hungry? We have meat and mead. Today is the celebration of our founding.”

“I appreciate second chances and all but, they’re sending death row mages to the front now?”

Roxanne swallowed a barely chewed chunk of cheese and bratwurst, “The Servians assassinated Princess Metternich. Word is the prince is furious. There’s no doubt going to be war in the south and Stemerny is going to be involved.”

“Are you serious?” Adam furrowed his eyebrows, “Princess Metternich, dead?”

Kurl crossed his arms around his chest, “Vampire thralls. It’s old news. We’re hearing it now because of our situation. You can check the news pamphlets if you want to catch up on world events. They’re keeping us a month behind,” Kurl pointed his thumb to a collapsing pile of faded newsprint.

“Extra rations, butter, we’re allowed to read the news?”

“Consider it a reward for our good behavior,” Kurl pointed to Roxanne and indicated himself with his thumb.

“Well excuse me for having my plans destroyed and my nose broken,” Adam stretched, walked toward the table, and reached for a sausage, only to pull back at a snarling woman tensing her muscles.

“Let him eat Roxanne.”

She pushed over a small plate and plopped the smallest sausage, a slice of Bavarian cheese, and large piece of buttered bread, “I still say we should have taken Gisela.”

“That old hag? You’d choose that old hag over me. I’ll have you know-”

Fist slammed the table and all the dishes clattered, “Don’t you ever refer to the duchess so disgracefully in front of me! I don’t care who you are!”

Adam grabbed the plate and munched on the cheese, “And just who exactly are you to be speaking so rudely to a Duke’s son.”

“We’re all no better than peasants once stripped of title,” Kurl sighed.

“At least we had a title. I doubt she was ever more than crass farmer’s daughter. She looks like she’s been tilling soil straight out of the womb.”

“I’m an adopted member of house Dessinger… was.”

“The peasant wench that got her fiancé murdered? You’re that one! Oh, how fine is this!?”

The bench slid across brick. Roxanne grabbed him by the collar and lifted until his bare feet dangled, “I had nothing to do with that! I loved him. I tried to save him!”

Adam choked, “Put me down you herculean- cur.”

“Take it back!”

“I refuse to bow before a-” fingers closed his collar, tightening it around his neck, “Ahhhck!”

“Roxanne, put down your squad mate.”

“But he said I got Rufus killed,” tears held as she lowered him slowly. His toes slid over the wood floor, “I- I tried to save him. I couldn’t save him. But I’d never-”

“You’re not going to prove them wrong by strangling our sniper.”

Adam’s face increasingly resembled a blueberry. She marched him to the bed and gently set him down before returning to the table of food, crying as she ate.

Kurl furrowed his brow while Adam recovered, “You have a high opinion of yourself. It already almost got you killed. Don’t make the same mistake twice.”

“And what do you know?”

“I know you’re not the only one here that lost someone important. I had high hopes for you. That you’d not assume someone’s full story from rumors. How’s your neck?”

“It feels like I got wrapped by a bear.”

“You weren’t too far from it being snapped,” Kurl slapped him on the shoulder with a heavy pamphlet about the war with Servia, “So watch the nobility talk. None of us have titles, not anymore.”

The controller appeared at the open cell door with a pair of military boots with rolled stockings, “Glad to see you’re all getting along famously. You all look presentable enough. The carriage is here. We’re going to the facility to retrieve the silver angel.”

“She’s being kept nearby?” Kurl asked.

“An angel!” Adam leaned over the bed, gripping the mattress as he recovered his color, “What’s this sudden talk of storybook legends. Have you all gone mad?”

Kurl laughed, “I don’t believe it yet either. Not until I see it myself.”

“As I explained earlier, she proved unstable. A prison was found both suitable and necessary,” Brunswick shoved the boots and stockings into Adam’s lap, “Put these on. Now.”

“They better be my size. You won’t hear the end of it if I develop blisters.”

“I don’t believe it either,” Roxanne stood while Adam hurriedly equipped his footwear. She wiped her eyes. A few sausages stuffed in her cleavage for the road.

“You’ll see it soon enough,” Brunswick snapped as he directed them out, “Consider this your first mission. Given your recent string of privileges, I expect your best behavior. Let’s go retrieve our angel.”