Mercenary of Lastia - BtLH - Ch 21 (Patreon)

Lys followed Finn out of the tent, filled with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Finn’s voice boomed across the camp, “Hilk! Get over here!”

The same young man from before hurried over, his posture straight and attentive. “Yes, Sergeant?”

Finn gestured to her. “This is Trekhill. Your job for the rest of the day is to get him sorted out.”

Hilk nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Finn turned to Lys, his eyes stern. “Listen to Hilk.”

Lys nodded, but Finn’s expression remained unchanged. “The expected response is ‘Yes Sir, or Yes Sergeant.’”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Lys said quickly, her cheeks flushing.

Finn gave a curt nod and returned to the recruitment desk. Hilk grinned at her. “Follow me.”

“Yes, sir,” Lys said, falling into step beside him.

Hilk laughed. “I’m a regular, not a sergeant.” He glanced at her. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen,” Lys replied.

“I’m nineteen. Been in the company for two years.” Hilk’s chest puffed out with pride.

Lys studied him, taking in his muscular build and the light gray outfit that matched the other mercenaries she had seen. “Am I allowed to ask questions?”

Hilk chuckled. “That’s all you’ll be doing for a while.”

He led her through the camp, a sprawling city of tents. Men nodded to them as they passed. She wasn’t sure how to respond, so she just kept her eyes locked on Hilk’s back.

They arrived at a large double tent filled with bins and chests. An older man stood behind a counter, his eyes sharp as they approached. “What do you have for me?” the man asked.

Hilk gestured to Lys. “I have a fresh one, Sir. Recruit Trekhill, ink still wet on his contract.”

The man nodded, his gaze shifting to Lys. “I am Sergeant Ashton, the Quartermaster of the—” He paused, looking back at Hilk. “Have you given him the rundown yet?”

Hilk shook his head. “Wet ink. First stop here, sir.”

Ashton nodded, his attention returning to Lys. “I will be collecting your personal belongings and issuing you your standard gear.”

Lys swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat. Did that include her clothes? Was she going to have to change in front of them?

“I saw the mention of the Company keeping personal items until discharge or training is completed,” Lys said, her voice wavering slightly.

Ashton grunted, his eyebrows raised. “Surprised you paid attention to the paperwork.” He nodded, his expression stern. “Everything goes into storage now, including your clothes. After training, you’ll get your things back. If you get leave time, you can collect and deposit them on the way in and out as well.”

“What about my weapons?” Lys asked, her hand instinctively reaching for her bow.

“That will be better to record as a general item. You’ll get one of equal or higher value on the way out. Otherwise you’ll be having to maintain it all the time and that isn’t fun.”

Lys nodded. That was fine for the bow. “What about my knife? It has sentimental value.”

“It fits in the trunk, oil it before putting it in, and it should be fine,” he said.

Ashton put his hand on the trunk and patted it. “Everything you deposit will be recorded on a slip and go with your trunk back to the company’s headquarters. When you’re discharged, you’ll collect them.”

Hilk chimed in, “If you have any food, you need to toss it out.”

“I don’t have any,” Lys replied, her stomach growling at the mere mention of food.

Ashton grunted, his eyes softening slightly. “With what happened to Silverpines, that’s almost to be expected.” He added, “Dump your water skins, too. Can’t store them while full.”

Lys watched as Ashton pulled out a trunk and set it on the counter. He turned to Hilk. “Get him sorted. I’ll be back to sign off on the paperwork.”

With Hilk’s assistance, Lys carefully unloaded her pack, placing each item in the trunk. Her fingers lingered on her father’s knife before setting it inside.

Hilk rummaged through the bins, his eyes scanning Lys’s frame. “You’ll probably fit the smalls,” he said, pulling out a set of clothes.

“What?” Lys asked, confusion etched on her face.

“Your uniform,” Hilk clarified. “You have to stash your clothes and wear your recruit uniform.”

Lys accepted the bundle, pushing down her panic.

Was she going to be discovered a few minutes after signing up?

Hilk turned and walked over to the chest, saying he’d write her things down while she got dressed.

She already had her pack and belts off, and without thinking about it, she turned her back on Hilk and tugged her trousers and small clothes off, putting on the uniform’s replacements. With her lower body accounted for, she then pulled her shirt off.

Maybe if she was fast enough—

“You injured?” Hilk asked.

Lys froze, her heart pounding in her chest.

“No,” she replied without turning around, continuing to put the uniform on like nothing had happened.

“Why’re you wearing a bandage, then?” Hilk pressed.

Lys swallowed hard, her mind racing for an explanation. “It’s just something I always do, in case I need a bandage. There’s one at hand.”

Hilk grunted. “Not a bad idea, I guess.”

To her relief, he went back to writing the records of her items.

She folded up her clothes neatly and added them to her chest.

As she pulled out her money pouch and started to count it out, Hilk raised a hand. “Leave that for Sergeant Ashton to count. It won’t go in your trunk but to your company account.”

“Company account?” Lys asked.

“We don’t carry coin, except on leave. Everyone has their own account with the company.” Hilk explained.

Lys nodded as she set the pouch aside. The uniform felt strange against her skin, the fabric rough and unfamiliar. She tugged at the collar, trying to adjust it as Hilk finished his inventory.

Lys’s brow furrowed as she turned to Hilk. “How does the company account work?”

Hilk straightened, his voice taking on a lecturing tone. “All your funds are held by the cohort’s purser, except for spending money when needed. But recruits don’t need spending money, so you have to give it all up.”

“And after training?” Lys asked, her fingers tapping against her thigh.

“Once you complete training, you can withdraw and deposit into your account at will. Still not supposed to carry coin unless there is a reason, though. Your pay and any bonuses go straight into the account,” he said.

A thought struck Lys, and she couldn’t help but voice it. “What happens if the records get lost or destroyed?”

Hilk shook his head. “There are multiple copies, including one that gets sent to headquarters. They’re thorough.”

Lys bit her lip, an idea forming. “What if I make a withdrawal at one place and hurry to another to withdraw again?”

A gruff voice cut through the air, jolting both Lys and Hilk. “That’s theft, and you don’t want to think about theft.”

Sergeant Ashton stood at the entrance of the tent, his eyes boring into Lys. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. “Sorry, Sir, I was just—”

Ashton held up a hand, silencing her. “You were being smart. Not a bad trait in our profession, but don’t even think about it. There’s a reason there’s so much paperwork. We catch everything, eventually.” His gaze sharpened. “Don’t shit where you sleep, recruit.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Lys replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ashton turned his attention to the list Hilk had written, meticulously confirming each item. He then counted out the coins from Lys’s purse, adding the total to the paper. “Confirm this is correct,” he said, sliding the document to Lys.

She scanned the numbers, her heart sinking as she realized just how little she had. “It’s correct, Sergeant.”

Ashton nodded, placing the coins in another box and her empty purse in the chest. He produced a lock and key, checking the mechanism before securing the chest. “This is the only key. If you lose it, you pay to replace the lock. Understand?”

Lys nodded, her fingers closing around the cool metal. “I understand, Sergeant.”

Ashton’s gaze flicked to Hilk. “Carry on, Private.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Hilk replied, gesturing for Lys to follow him out of the tent.