“Just a little more. Just a little more.”

  Brenn chanted the mantra between heavy breaths, as he drove the shovel into the last mound of dirt. The earth, full of water and waste, felt like it was made of lead, as his muscles quivered with each lift. His broad shoulders helped, but hours of labor had turned his arms into trembling weights of meat and bone.

  He had long gotten used to the stench weeks ago. Only the heat and pain remained. Sweat ran freely down his spine, drenching his rough-spun tunic until the itchy fabric clung to him like a second skin.

  When the final mound collapsed, he leaned on the shovel to let it take some of his weight and get some relief from the dull ache plaguing his lower back.

  “How's the work coming along, soldier?” A cheery voice asked from his rear.

  He stiffened and turned around. The young Lieutenant stood behind him in a spotless uniform. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-two.

  Brenn straightened himself the best he could and snapped a salute.

  “All the latrine ditches have been covered, sir.”

  “Good.” The young cockerel glanced at the work. “Onto the next set, then.”

  He walked by, a faint smirk on his lips.

  Brenn's jaw tightened. His pride stung as much as his raw skin did from the sweat, but he kept his mouth shut. He had learned that lesson already, at a high cost.

  He needed the coin, and it was either this or a life of crime. Paltry as it was, at least the pay was regular, and thankfully enough to pay for his ailing mother’s treatment.

  So he hefted the shovel again and began shuffling toward the next set of ditches, when a familiar voice shouted from behind.

  “Hey, Brenn!”

  He turned around to see Thibault jogging up to him, an earthen cup sloshing with water in his hand.

  “Take a break,” the younger man said, thrusting the cup forward.

  Seeing no officer in sight, he let the shovel drop from his hands, and took the cup from Thibault with a grunt of thanks, draining it in one long pull. The water tasted faintly of dirt, but it might as well have been wine.

  “There’s more if you want it.”

  All Brenn could do was nod as he painfully lowered himself to the ground, not bothering to avoid the dirt. His knees protested as he folded them. Approaching his forties was not doing him any favor, in addition to the punishing work.

  Thibault came back with a full jar.

  “You don’t have to do all this,” Brenn muttered.

  “It’s the least I can do,” the younger man replied. “I would be dead if not for you.”

  “I was just doing my duty,” Brenn said bitterly, as he took another swig of water.

  Years of drills, marches and border skirmishes in Her Majesty's Royal Army, and this was his reward.

  Thibault studied him intensely. “Maybe I could write a letter to the Marshal’s office–”

  “Don’t,” Brenn snapped.

  Thibault froze.

  “I tried that,” Brenn went on, quieter. “I sent what I thought was an anonymous letter. Look where it landed me! Back to soldier from Vice-captain. You’ve just made sergeant. Don’t throw it away.”

  “You were demoted on a false charge! Everyone knows that. Me and the others owe you so much, cap,” Thibault whispered. “You heard about General Hrodric’s son?”

  “Yeah.”

  “They say he died because the men who came to his rescue had sticks for weapons and rags for armor. That would have been our fate, if not for you. If you hadn’t exposed Major Derric’s rot, we would have died facing the Nogalese skirmishers, just like them.”

  Brenn looked at the younger man’s face, eyes shining with determination. He would not be deterred.

  “You want to risk your career?” he said at last. “Fine, be my guest! Just don’t curse my name when it comes to bite you back.”

  Looking at the youth full of compassion and idealism, he smiled despite himself. “If only there were a hundred fools like you, the army would be worth saving.”

  He chuckled at the dream, then used Thibault’s shoulder to push himself upright.

  The shovel came up again. Dirt followed.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Only a few minutes had passed when a nasal voice called out his name.

  “Brenn! Is there a Brenn here?”

  He froze mid-lift.

  “Here,” he called back, slovenly on purpose.

  He wondered what other torment these sadists had prepared for him this time.

  “Did you use to be the Vice-captain of the First Troop, Frontier Guards?”

  “Yes.”

  The man in clerk’s livery held out a scroll without ceremony.

  “Here's your official pardon. You are to present yourself to the office of General Hrodric next Monday.”

  Brenn stared at the scroll, not believing his ears.

  “Take it,” the man said impatiently. “I have other places to be.”

  He took the scroll and examined it. The Royal military’s white and blue seal glistened under the midday sun as he turned it. He broke it open with shaking fingers and began reading; once, then again.

  Sure enough, it was an official pardon and an order to visit General Hrodric.

  The intricate red and blue seal of his office at the bottom stared back at him. Forging it was a capital crime. Brenn doubted the idiots who had been tormenting him the last few months would have the balls to pull a prank like that.

  Still, he found it hard to believe that the General of the entire Royal military himself wanted to meet a lowly ex-vice-captain, but he dare not risk offending the man if the letter was genuine. A ray of hope sparked within him, murmuring that his loyalty and bravery had been acknowledged.

  He crushed it immediately. Hope was dangerous for those without connections or money, and he had neither.

  ──────── ??? ────────

  Three days later, Brenn stared at the door to General Hrodric’s office. Brave Nanoan knights locked in combat, carved in heavy oak, stared back at him. He looked at his uniform for any flaws for the tenth time and wiped the sweat from his forehead, that had nothing to do with the heat.

  He was wondering if he was still in a dream when the door opened.

  A young man with sharp eyes and cropped curly hair stood aside to let him in. Inside, a stout older man sat behind a large, ornate desk, his mustache magnificent enough to deserve its own banner.

  “My Lord General.” Brenn saluted.

  “Sit,” the General pointed to the chair opposite him, and he promptly obeyed.

  “This is Lieutenant Korrin,” the General pointed at the young man who had moved to stand next to him.

  Korrin inclined his head stiffly.

  “He brought your case to my attention. How you exposed the corruption of Major Derric with well-documented proof and the reprisal you suffered.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Brenn said, and truly meant it.

  “I just confirmed what was already there, sir,” Korrin replied.

  The General continued. “He talked to some of the men who had worked underneath you and they were all thankful for you standing up for them. They were also quite eager to confirm the other misdeeds of your superior. You have my sincerest thanks, Vice-captain.”

  Brenn still couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but had the presence of mind to keep his expression neutral and reply in time.

  “I was just performing my duty, sir.”

  “Don’t be too modest,” the General said, leaning back. “Tell me something. If the thief had worn a Ducal signet instead of a Major’s badge, would you have still acted?”

  Brenn froze, and thought before answering. “If I could have somehow discreetly contacted our monarch, yes.”

  The General studied him for some time, then nodded.

  “Good. In recognition of your bravery, I'm promoting you to Captain, effective immediately. You will join our new Military Police division.”

  “Military Police?” Brenn blurted out.

  “Yes. An experiment. You have our dear Queen's intended to thank for it. He was quite insistent I set up a policing division within the military, whose role would be to investigate the abuses of authority happening within. Go repeat your previous feats, Captain, and shine some light on the parasites destroying the military from the inside.”

  “Yes, sir! Thank you for giving me this opportunity, sir!” Brenn said sharply, as he stood up and saluted the General.

  Hrodric paused. “Captain, do keep your enthusiasm in check though. While the Military Police has the power to arrest officers, all the current ones come from noble families. They are used to having their way in all matters, and I don’t want to deal with the fallout that will follow unless it is absolutely necessary.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  “You will make enemies. Powerful ones. They will not respond well to your presence, let alone any attempts to arrest them. So just covertly collect information about their activities, and give it to me if it warrants taking action.”

  “I will be careful, sir.” Brenn saluted again and turned around.

  Lieutenant Korrin followed him out of the office.

  “Congratulations, sir. It’s an honor to work beside you.”

  Brenn turned to look at the younger man. “No, Lieutenant. It is my honor to work beside the man who proved my innocence. I still feel like I'm in a dream. I heard rumors of officers being shuffled from one post to another and some being kicked out, but never in my wildest dreams I thought it was actually happening.”

  Korrin lowered his voice. “The General says it’s just the beginning. There are some big plans in motion. He attributes them all to our Queen’s intended. I didn’t say this to you, but he also calls him a dangerous oddity in private.”

  “Odd men are often the only ones willing to clean what others refuse to touch. I'm just thankful for this second chance.” Brenn said, with a smile on his face and a pep in his step.

  He stepped into the light, his back straighter than it had been in years.

  There was rot to be dug up, and this was the kind of clean-up he was eager to do.

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