NOVEL FROG 45. I’m Still Not A Guard?
The huge man's voice, deep and booming, echoed across the square. "Listen up, all of you!" he commanded. "Hudan's the name, and I'm the new guard captain of the manor. First things first - make some space here. I need to see each of you properly."
A hesitant murmur rippled through the crowd. A few men shuffled their feet a little and moved a step back. But most of the men, desperate to be seen as the best candidates, were reluctant to move back.
But Hudan's patience seemed to be wearing thin. His brow furrowed, and his voice took on a harsher edge. "Did I stutter? Move back! Create some space in the center. Right now!" he bellowed.
This time, the message resonated clearly. The raw power in his voice brooked no argument. The crowd slowly shuffled backward, muttering amongst themselves, but a clear space finally opened up in the center of the village square. Tesyb himself had only moved back a small step, resulting in his new position much closer to the front of the crowd, instead of in the middle where he had been standing earlier.
Hudan grunted in satisfaction. "Alright, that's better," he rumbled, surveying the newly formed space with a nod of approval.
"Good. Now, listen closely," he barked. "I'll be pointing at some of you. Those chosen will step forward. The rest of you - stay back. And remember, one word out of line, one disruption, and the whole damn recruitment is off. Disobeying orders will guarantee that you're not getting selected, is that understood?"
A chorus of gruff affirmations echoed through the square. The air crackled with nervous anticipation. Tesyb straightened his back, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The moment of truth had arrived. His future, and the well-being of his family, hung in the balance. He had to be ready to prove his worth to this formidable new guard captain. He even craned his neck upwards to be more visible to Hudan, a nervous tremor running through him.
Finally, Hudan, the imposing guard captain, began his selection. One by one, he pointed a thick finger at different young men, his gaze lingering on each for a moment before a gruff, "Step forward," echoed across the square. Envy washed over him as each chosen villager, a triumphant grin plastered on their face, stepped into the designated area. Yet, as the number of chosen villagers rose higher, Tesyb's own smile remained stubbornly absent.
The minutes ticked by, agonizingly slow. Tesyb remained rooted to the spot, a knot of anxiety tightening in his gut with every passing selection. He kept watching, his heart sinking with each choice that wasn't Tesyb himself. He was well aware of his own strength, honed years in the mines swinging a pickaxe. Yet, as the number of selected men rose past a dozen, cold sweat began to prickle his skin. Why hadn't his turn come yet?
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his gaze constantly flitting between Hudan's imposing figure and the dwindling pool of hopefuls. Suddenly, Hudan's gaze snapped towards him. Tesyb felt a jolt of adrenaline course through him as the captain's finger pointed directly at him. "Step forward," Hudan rumbled.
Relief flooded his system, so intense it almost knocked him off balance. With a surge of nervous energy, he pushed his way through the remaining crowd, a wide grin splitting his face. Joining the ranks of the chosen, Tesyb cast a glance around.
He couldn't help but notice a pattern. These men weren't just physically imposing, they exuded a certain fierceness. Many of them, including Tesyb himself, bore the marks of past fights - scars that criss-crossed their faces or adorned their knuckles and arms, each one a testament to a past brawl or skirmish. They held themselves with a different kind of confidence, a predatory glint in their eyes that spoke of experience in the harsher realities of life.
A frown creased his face. This wasn't right. Hudan wasn't picking based on strength or fitness for work, at least not solely. He seemed to be picking based on something else entirely - a past marked by violence, an apparent willingness to get into fights. Or more likely, based on their looks - those who looked like they were already experienced in fights were the ones to be chosen.
The realization gnawed at him, a bitter taste in his mouth. Was this truly the only way to secure a place as a guard? It seemed absurd, a nonsensical way to choose guards. Surely, strength and skill held more weight than a collection of past brawls. He shook his head. Perhaps the long hours underground had dulled his senses, or maybe the desperation clouding his judgment was playing tricks on him. He pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.
Hudan's selection process continued until nearly twenty men stood before him. Then, to Tesyb's surprise, the guard captain stepped off the bench and turned to Duvas, the majordomo. They huddled together, their voices dropping to a low murmur. The majordomo, his brow furrowed in concentration, scrutinized the chosen men before murmuring a response back. Tesyb strained to hear what was being said, but only fragments reached him - whispers of "loyalty," "discipline," and a name he couldn't quite catch.
Finally, Hudan cleared his throat and addressed the group once more. "Alright, listen up," he boomed, his voice silencing the murmurs that had begun to rise. This is it for now. Those of you who have been chosen will come back with me to the manor. There, we'll put your skills to the test. We need men who can fight, who can defend the Baron and his interests. After I see which of you can actually hold your own in a fight, we'll choose the final twelve who will become the new guards for the Baron."
What? They had to go through another test now? Tesyb was quite surprised to hear that there would be a further selection process before they became manor guards. He had thought the guard captain had simply decided to recruit more guards than he had claimed earlier.
Disappointment clouded the faces of many of them, while some even muttered curses. The initial relief of being chosen was replaced with a new wave of uncertainty. A physical test? Even if getting in a brawl in the alehouse was nothing new to them, none of them had ever trained for combat. They were miners, not warriors. But it couldn't be helped…
Tesyb squared his shoulders, a newfound determination hardening his gaze. This wasn't over yet. He may have been chosen based on his scars, but he wouldn't back down without a fight. He had come this far, and he wouldn't let this opportunity slip through his grasp. Gritting his teeth, he steeled himself for what was to come. The promise of food and warmth for his family outweighed his fear. He would prove himself, even if it meant facing his fellow villagers in combat.
A low murmur of disappointment rippled through the crowd. The unchosen men, their dreams of a steady income now disappeared, slowly shuffled away, muttering curses under their breath. It could have been him, Tesyb thought. It still could be so, if he didn't get picked in the final selection.
But before they could start to disperse, Duvas intervened and halted the guard captain. A short exchange with Hudan followed, and the guard captain gave a nod to the majordomo before addressing the crowd once more, after climbing back on the wooden bench.
"Hold on, everyone!" he boomed. "There's more to the announcement. Mr. Duvas was going to tell you about this, but instead, he has asked me to make the other announcements as well."
A spark of curiosity flickered in the weary eyes of the villagers. Even the women and elders, who had retreated to the fringes of the village square after the initial selection, perked up their ears, eager to hear what else the Baron's representatives had to say.
Hudan cleared his throat and continued. "Let me assure you," he declared, "the new Baron, Lord Kivamus, is different from the nobles you're used to. He doesn't just see Tiranat as a source of revenue. Lord Kivamus has a genuine interest in the well-being of Tiranat and its people. He envisions a brighter future for this village, a future brimming with opportunity for everyone. He has grand plans for this village, plans that extend far beyond the selection of new guards."
A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd. Tesyb, along with most others, had grown accustomed to the indifference of the previous Baron. The notion of a leader who actually cared for their plight seemed almost unimaginable to them.
