Sober

'Laughter?' It could only mean one of two things.

Either the Lakilian soldiers had not yet attacked the camp, or they had made such a decisive victory that the men were already celebrating. Either way, the jovial people did not seem worried about being heard.

'I know which one I hope for. I better get going.'

Though the Guardian's clothes were irrevocably drenched, as soon as Silver adjusted his hood, his cloak was dry like it had only ever seen sunshine. The silver-eyed man was used to the cloak's eccentricities and didn't even pause to consider how it was done.

The group of people were not far off. Slinking through the shadows of the trees, Silver approached the group to gather any information he could. As Silver neared, he saw many small fires and low tents. They were barely big enough for a single man to keep the morning dew off of his body.

'Clearly military issued,' Silver thought to himself.

The Guardian would rather sleep under the stars than be in one of those stuffy encasements on a night like this. Not that the soldiers would be enjoying their tents anyway. If Borit had his way, they would have an encasement of earth instead. If those were the only options, Silver would take the tent.

The men he could see were all low ranked soldiers. They wore uniforms of gold with purple accents, and were munching on tough camp rations and drinking deeply from canteens that they had brought from the fort.

'How long has it been since dusk? Not more than an hour, surely! Which means...'

The Guardian was nearly convinced that the men he beheld were the unsuspecting soldiers of Birle. But there was still a small chance that General Kaarel's men had seamlessly switched places sooner than planned.

Based on the time, however, he did not think it was likely. In fact, with the time, Silver was concerned with another matter entirely. And that problem came marching through the camp with all the pomp his position demanded.

The weary soldiers all rose to attention and saluted their leader. Borit found his spot on a log and stepped up with the help of his cane.

"We have a big morning ahead of us, so I need all of you to bed down as soon as possible. Only those on duty will be allowed out of their tent. Anyone caught up and about without explicit instruction will receive a formal reprimand. Lights out is in the next quarter hour. Take a good swig of water and a final bite of food. You'll need all your energy." Borit stepped down to mild grumbling.

Most of them were already concerned about the coming skirmish. Hopefully the vagrants would consent to being escorted from the land without incident, but the chance of an all-out fight was equally high.

Many of the troops had never been in anything more than training exercises. This was supposed to be their first real foray into their duties. Why the commander had chosen them over more experienced soldiers, they were afraid to ask. They only hoped to live up to his expectations.

The Commander gave orders to the highest ranking officer. "Sir Nuall and I will be gone for a short while. There is one last issue I need to take care of personally before morning. We will return before the midnight watch."

The man he left in charge offered the Commander a water skin from the supplies. Borit refused. "I have my own which I will fill up in the river."

With that, Borit and his lackey marched toward their mounts. Although the bulk of the soldiers here were infantry, a few dozen horses were penned in with ropes tied between a clustering of trees.

Silver waited patiently for the two men to head out of camp. Unfortunately, they were slow to actually vacate, waiting for lights out to occur before leaving the troops behind.

'These men are loyal to him and he would see them snuffed out just like the fires. There is no end to his depravity.' The Guardian balled his fists.

How anyone could treat his fellow man with such cold indifference was beyond him. Even when he had tried not to care about those around him, something inside him always called back his humanity and compassion. Borit had no such compass.

At last the Commander departed and Silver found his moment to act. Rather than go to find the person in charge and approach him, Silver moved to the man heading into the closest tent. Time was of the essence. He could already feel the seconds slipping away.

"Excuse me!" He called quietly through the tent.

"It's lights out!" The young man hissed, continuing to spread out his bedroll with a yawn.

"I am not a soldier, so I don't think that applies to me." Silver spoke quickly.

The man froze. He peeked his head slowly out of the tent and stifled a scream. The person beside him was not his buddy Clem who always got him into trouble. This was a man without a face in the darkness.

But if the man had meant to attack him, he would have already done so. Unless this was a dream. Had he fallen asleep so quickly?

"I need your help..." The cloaked figure drew out his last word.

"Jayce," the soldier answered the phantom. He must not be dreaming after all. For why would a dream inside his head not know his name?

"Jayce, all of you have been tricked. The men you are meant to confront in the morning have you surrounded. They plan to kill you all in your sleep." Silver spoke as quietly as he could.

They were poised at the edge of the camp, and it was very possible that General Kaarel and his men were already in position. Since they had already murdered the watchmen, which Silver had found floating down the river, they would not wait until the changing of the guards for him to be discovered missing.

"What?!" Jayce could not comprehend his words. How could what the man said be true?

"Take me to who is in charge," Silver could see that Jayce was at a loss. "Then ready yourself for battle."

Jayce yawned in spite of himself. Dragging his worn out body from the tent, he looked for the sergeant whose name he could not remember. They had only met a couple of days ago.

"Sergeant! This man says we are about to be under attack." Jayce pointed to the Guardian.

The Sergeant, who was checking to make sure all the fires were out before he went to bed, looked critically at both the soldier who had interrupted him in his quest for sleep and the dark figure beside him.

Silver did not wait for his questions. "You all need to be on your guard right now. Already you are surrounded. You must rouse the troops or you will all be dead by sunrise."

The sergeant rubbed his eyes. What was this lunatic talking about?

"I think you have had too much strong drink, old man. Have some water and calm yourself." The burly soldier stretched and handed him his own waterskin.

"I'm not drunk!" Silver was shocked that the man in charge was not taking him seriously. The sergeant was far too relaxed by this news. Perhaps he had been the one drinking instead. Why wasn't he taking this as a real threat? "You have to listen to me!"

"I will. I will, as soon as you sober up a bit. Here." The soldier compassionately poured the water into a cup and pressed it into Silver's hand.

Frustrated beyond measure, Silver saw no other option. He downed the cup of water quickly and handed it back to the soldier. "I'm sober," he rolled his eyes under his hood. "And you are in grave danger."