A Long Walk Home

Tanner Hawkwood sat in his tent while the winter winds whipped the sides. A small brazier threw some heat. It was somewhat effective in keeping the chill off, but it wasn’t enough. Nope, he needed to be down south, in a stout home, with good logs in a fire place, mug of kahveh or ale at hand.

He had just taken a walk through camp, and he didn’t like what he saw. Half the men seemed to coming down ill due to the cold. Maybe not ill, but the stout spirit that always seemed to be present in the Southrons was waning. Most of them were starting to mention going home. Tanner couldn’t blame them. Most of them had families they wanted to see. When a man went away from his family for the first time, they generally didn’t handle it to well. They had asked him, ’When are we goin’ home, Commander? I ain’t seen my kids in two months.’ Between the physical and mental effects of their stay in the north, the New Frontier Army was ready to go home.

Petra was still in bad shape, but she could lay in the back of a wagon on the way home. Sheryn seemed to be okay. She wanted to get south simply because she hadn’t been home in nearly twelve years. Voss Bramwell had spring planting to tend to, a reason Tanner whole-heartedly agreed with, since he had his own farming concerns.

Faolan, on the other hand, was leaning toward staying awhile. He enjoyed the political intriguing. In fairness, Faolan was trying to learn something useful, so Tanner didn’t really object. Tanner guessed that Faolan was trying to influence the decisions the lords. What the objective was, Tanner had no idea. Now that the Underworld invasion had been out down, Tanner reckoned that it was all a manner of Anglian state politics. What with all the lords’ maneuvering, he couldn’t determine what was going one. If a Southron needed to determine what was going, leave it Faolan or Voss Bramwell. The army had no place in this.

Tanner considered the options. Stay here, let some folks play politics, and most likely get ignored. There was no food to be found, so starvation would be a real problem in a month. Wintering in South Gate was a bad idea. There was the possibility of wintering somewhere else in Anglia, but this was an even worse idea. There might be more food in other places, but the crowds would be less welcoming. Finally, there was the choice of going home. Food, warmer weather, but most importantly, the men would be back with their families. The lift to their spirits would salve many of their hurts. Besides, there were a large number of families who had to be worried to death about their sons, brothers, and fathers. It was time to do something about this.

Tanner walked out of his tent. The men acknowledged him as heartily as they could. Tanner acknowledged them and spoke words of encouragement. He went looking for Faolan and Voss, and found them inside the town at a tavern called the Drowned Fisherman. He sat down beside them and ordered three ales.

‘I think we might be able to get some information, but it is doubtful we can really gain anything of use’ Faolan remarked.

‘Agreed’ said Voss. ‘These Anglians play the game of thrones and jockey for power. While I wouldn’t mind someone keeping tabs on them, we can gain nothing here. What do you think, Tanner?’

‘Both of you speak wisely. While I am always for gaining intelligence on the machinations of the Anglians, 250 Frontier militia men aren’t going to help that cause. Our food will run out in a month if we are not careful. They are tired and cold.’

‘Well, I’m to go fix my barn and get ready for spring planting, not to mention the spring lambs and calves.’ Voss smiled and clapped Tanner on the shoulder.

‘I may need to take a detour to Anglia City, to, uh, check in with Orin Ironheart on a special, um, helmet of see in the dark.’ Faolan grinned.

‘Yeah, but to see what is the question’ smirked Tanner.

‘The fairest lady in all the land.’ Faolan regained his composure.

‘But Arabella is in our camp. You can see her now’, remarked Tanner. For his effort, Tanner was met with half mug of ale in the face. Voss started laughing so hard, he fell off his bench. Once he had gotten dried off a bit, Tanner laughed too.

‘Well that settles it then. Voss, you and Faolan tell Gahanna what we are going to do. I’ll go tell the men.’ Tanner got them three more ales. ‘I’m gonna enjoy this fire a bit longer. This is the warmest I have been since Bridgeton.’

An hour later, Tanner made his way back to camp. He saw Arabella and gave her a hug.

‘What do I owe this pleasure, Commander Hawkwood?’ she cooed back at him.

‘Only a fool wouldn’t embrace the best looking woman in Anglia, regardless of what Faolan says. Besides, have I told you ‘thank you’ for rescuing my sister?’

‘Only twice a day since we left Anglia City. But I don’t get tired of hearing it. You have no great way with words, Tanner Hawkwood, but your honesty is apparent to all. Sometimes that’s even better.’ She smiled back at him.

‘How is Petra?’

‘Still recovering. She’s not out of the woods yet. In one of her lucid moments, she asked about you?’

‘What did you tell her?’

‘That you’re alive and well and check on her daily.’

‘Good.’

‘If he starts to bore you, let me know. I’ll handle him.’ Sheryn stepped out from a tent and gave Tanner a sarcastic smile.

‘Sister, I see the cold has done nothing to diminish your charm.’ He embraced her.

‘Smells like you’ve been drinking with the Red Wolf again, dear brother’.

‘Do you want a cookie for such a brilliant deduction?’ At this, Arabella laughed hard, and Tanner joined in. Eventually, Sheryn did too. ‘Come with me.’

They came to the common area. Huge cook fires were heating up soup for the men. The men were sitting on wagons, benches, basically anything that would keep them from contacting the cold ground. They acknowledged Tanner, and he signaled them to be quiet.

‘We’ve been to long in the north. It’s time to go home’ he said quietly.

A loud cheer came up from the crowd, and the men began to speak of home. Tanner noticed their spirits had picked up. ‘Good. That’s one issue dealt with’ he thought.