The Lost Stories Read Online Free PDF Page A

didn’t get time to put down all the men’s details before we had to march out. I’m trying to catch up on it now.”
    â€œCan you tell me anything about him?” Halt asked.
    â€œHe had a farm, I believe, somewhere in the southeast part of Aspienne. But where it might be, I have no idea.”
    â€œDid he have any friends in the company who might know?”
    The sergeant major was shaking his head before Halt even finished the question.
    â€œHe may have. Although as a sergeant he would have kept a little separate from the other men. You could ask around. He had command of the sixth squad. You’ll find them one row over and halfway down.”
    â€œI’m obliged,” Halt said. He rose to his feet, wincing once more as the pain lanced through his forehead. He put a hand on the table to steady himself and Griff looked at him with some concern.
    â€œShould you be up and around? You don’t look so good.”
    Halt shook his head—and immediately wished he hadn’t. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Just a bit of a knock. I’m better off in the fresh air than in a stuffy healer’s tent.”
    â€œThat’s true.” Griff looked back at the forms and papers on his desk with a degree of disappointment, as if he’d been hoping they’d fill themselves in while he talked. “Well . . . sorry I can’t be of more help.”
    Halt waved a hand in acknowledgment.“Every little bit of information helps,” he said.
    He strolled down the neat tent lines, cutting through between two tents to reach the next row across. About ten meters farther down, he saw a placard mounted on top of a spear shaft with the numeral 6 on it. He looked down the next five tents and there was a similar marker, this time bearing the number 7. Five tents, four men to each, that made twenty men in the squad. Assuming they had all survived, which he knew they hadn’t. Three soldiers were lounging in the sun outside the first tent. They looked up as his shadow fell across them. There was a hint of suspicion in their eyes, but since Crowley and he had re-formed the Ranger Corps, Halt was becoming used to that. Officers and sergeant majors might value the skills Rangers brought to the army, but the rank-and-file soldiers tended to be ill at ease around the gray-and-green-clad figures. He knew there were wild rumors circulating that Rangers practiced sorcery.
    â€œGood morning,” he said evenly.
    The men nodded, craning their necks to look up at him. They were seated on low stools. One was patching a ripped jerkin, a second was whittling a stick with a knife and the third was chewing slowly on a piece of dried beef. From where Halt stood, it looked as if the beef was winning the struggle. Halt indicated a spare stool, a few feet away.
    â€œMind if I join you for a few minutes?” he asked.
    The man patching his jerkin nodded. “Why not?” he said, his tone neither welcoming nor dismissive.
    His companion with the beef jerky was staring at Halt, a frown of recognition on his face.“I know you,” he said thoughtfully, trying to place the memory. Then it came to him. “You were at the battle!” he said. “We were being driven back and suddenly you were there, shoving forward and slashing away at the Wargals and yelling at us to follow you. You did an outstanding job. Outstanding!” He turned to the others. “Did you see him? First of all, he dropped at least a dozen of them with his bow, then he darted in among them, slashing and stabbing. And look at him! He’s barely bigger than a boy.”
    Halt raised an eyebrow at that. He wasn’t the largest of men, but he knew the soldier was stretching it a little. However, he could see that no insult was intended, so he let the comment pass.
    â€œYour sergeant gave me a hand,” he said, and the man nodded vigorously.
    â€œHe did! He took them on when you went down.