Chapter 10

It was cool in the cell. You have to give credit to a garrison prison - clean, swept, no rats or insects. But maybe that's only in an officer's cell? Of course, Ned wasn't put in the common cell with the soldiers who were troublemakers. He was an officer, after all.

Ned was not afraid of the trial. The only thing that was bitter and offensive was that everything was going so well, and then it would end so badly. He would not let himself be killed - Ned knew that for sure. What would he do? Who knew what he would do! But he would not let himself be killed, and that was that. He would send demons, for example. And then the question arose - what if they set his friends on him? The same Oydar and Arnot? Well, for example, they would order them to attack him and twist his arms! Or just kill him! What would he do? Would he send demons on them too, so that they would eat them out from the inside? What should he do? On the one hand, they would try to kill Ned, and on the other - they were friends! But let them kill him? How so?

Confused in his reasoning, Ned came to no conclusion. Lying down on the bunk, he began to think, to dream, looking at the small window under the roof, which barely let in daylight.

If it hadn't been for that incident in the cafeteria, he would be walking around the city now. All dressed up, handsome, in new clothes... Maybe he would have met some girl... she would have fallen in love with him and invited him home to meet her parents. After all, all girls who have serious intentions introduce you to their parents.

Ned had heard about this in the village. He just couldn't understand why they were introducing each other when they had lived next door to each other their entire lives. However, it's different in the city, where people probably don't know the names of those who live on the next street. It's hard to believe, of course, but anything can happen. And so she brings Ned home and says: "This is my beloved, I want to marry him!" And the father – he's always tall and grey – like Colonel Heverad, or something like that – says importantly: "Mother, your daughter has brought her future husband! A good guy! I like him!" Mother: "Oh, I'm so glad! Please come in! We were just about to have dinner (or lunch – it makes no difference)."

And so, Ned walks into the room, a big one – a living room. And taaaaam…on the table – soup with chicken giblets…porridge with meat…candied fruits (I tried it once on a holiday, a drunk woman treated me to it), all sorts of smoked meats. Shells – lots of shells with spicy grass. And Ned eats, eats, eats! Until his stomach starts to swell from what he's eaten!

Ned's stomach rumbled wildly, reacting violently to his gastronomic-love dreams, and the guy couldn't help but laugh - no matter what he started dreaming about, all his dreams always ended up at lunch or dinner! It's just - some kind of curse! He didn't even have time to have lunch, and he had no fat layer. How could he endure it? Maybe they would bring the prisoner at least some kind of dinner? They wouldn't judge him when he was hungry, would they? And why wouldn't they? They would very much. So that he wouldn't dare to make a mess in the canteen!

Yes, he missed the mark with the canteen, of course. For some reason he thought he had the right to punch the lieutenant. The guards explained everything to him in an accessible form: yes, he is an officer. But if he is insulted, he must file a report up the chain of command to the commander of the unit in which he serves. He will consider the complaint and pass the report on. Or he will punish the offender himself - if the offense is minor. Major offenses are considered by the Corps Commander himself. He is the chief judge. But he, too, is subject to the code of officer honor. And if he deems it necessary, he will appoint a court of officer honor, where the offender's guilt will be considered. That's what should have been done, and not thrown fists at a superior officer. If he had thrown himself at the sergeant, there would not have been such a fuss. Two sergeants fought, and that's it. By the way, duels are prohibited by order of Colonel Heverad, as are fights. But with the sergeant, it would have been limited to a monetary deduction, that was the most Ned would have received. But now...now things were pretty bad.

Ned's thoughts were interrupted by a crash outside the door and a familiar bass voice roared:

- What are you, idiots, can't you see the seal and signature of the colonel?! Bastards! I'll put you in jail myself for failing to follow the command's orders! Open up, immediately! Idiots! You've taken too much power with your Shentel! You've sat on our necks, the parasites! Well, bitches, you should be in the front row of spearmen, so that they'll rip your guts out during the attack, donkey-heads!

Zheresar's voice was so powerful that it penetrated even through the oak doors bound with iron, and it seemed that the doctor was standing somewhere nearby, in the cell.

The bolt rattled and a red, disheveled doctor stumbled into the dungeon. He glanced back at the guard, stepped back and yanked the door with such force that it almost pinched the head of the curious security guard. He barely managed to jump back, otherwise a pancake would have been his head:

- Get out, you little son of a bitch! - Zheresar shouted through the door, and with a satisfied hoot, he noted with satisfaction - it's nice here! It's cool! Another beer, and I could lie down and sleep for three hours. It's as cold as a cellar! And it's scorching hot outside! So every situation has its advantages. At least, that's what you should think, so as not to get upset. Right, son? Well, what have you done? Why did you punch that goat in the face? It was for good reason, I suppose?

- For the cause - Ned nodded, smiling - I came to the canteen, he was sitting there. He saw me, started saying nasty things about me and the colonel. I went up to him and demanded that he apologize. Then he repeated his nasty things. I hit him. Well, not hit him, but just slapped him. I didn't think he was so frail and would fall to the floor. Just like paper... and he was such a big guy. Well, then that same security guy showed up. They twisted me around and took me away. The lieutenant immediately started lying that...

- I know, I know that he started lying! - the doctor interrupted impatiently. - I'm not interested in that. I'm interested in what he said about the colonel! Heverad is a real warrior, but he doesn't forgive insults, like some kind of court intriguer. So... You see, here's the thing... you accidentally found yourself in the center of an intrigue... I don't know if I can tell you... in general - just for you, and for no one! Don't blab! There's a fight going on for the post of corps commander. Shentel has been eyeing this place for a long time, digging under the colonel. But he has everything under control at the ministry (you don't need the details). In general - he can't do it. And here you are, with a crime for which a soldier is flogged to death. And they can flog an officer, but most likely they will demote him and put him in the most dangerous place - in the spearmen, in the front row. To death. That is, to the place from which you safely left. Moreover, the colonel wanted to send you to officer school. And with military crimes, they won't take you to officer school – a commoner, with no money. That is, they will ruin your career for sure. And that's if you survive five years of service in the front ranks. What did I start talking about… about the colonel. So. They won't be able to overthrow the colonel, but he will have to try hard to hold on to his position. And also – a drop wears away a stone, and next time he may not be able to resist. Got it? I don't understand a damn thing. You are a child, a child. In body, more mature than any adult, but in intrigues – a little child. But maybe it's for the best? Why do you need this dirt… Now tell me – what was that kid babbling about.

Ned summarized the lieutenant's speech in a few words, the doctor froze, thinking hard, then exhaled:

- This is a crime. If we prove that he did it, we have a chance to fight off the charges and give Shentel a kick in the pants. Humiliate him so that he won't get up for a long time, and maybe never will. Zasler is his protégé, he took him under his wing, into Security. Let's think about it - were there witnesses?

"There were," Ned nodded.

- HOW WERE THERE? - the doctor jumped up from his seat - where from?! Zasler claims that there weren't any. And Shentel too - he says that when he came, there was no one there except you and Zasler! Well, and the cooks at the distribution, but they don't count. Although...they should be questioned too. So who was there?

– Zasler was sitting at the table with a lieutenant from his company, as I understood, and not so far away was a sergeant from the crossbowmen – I don't remember his name – so skinny, with a face like an axe (Dert! – the doctor commented). Zasler was talking so loudly that they must have heard. You know, it seemed like he was deliberately provoking me. And this same Shentel appeared like a toy demon from a box – have you seen such a toy? You open it – click! And he jumps out. I didn't think about it then, but then it occurred to me! (He lied! He immediately discovered after the incident that everything had been set up, and the second lieutenant was also in the know. Everything had been thought out in advance. They were waiting for him. They knew that he would come. And if he hadn't come – the same thing, only somewhere else. And everything was aimed at the colonel. He knew that too. But how to tell the doctor? Well – it doesn't matter now – he had already figured it all out).

"What do you think – was Dert aware of what was going on?" the doctor asked tensely.

- I'm sure not. He ended up there by accident.

- So, so. That's good... so, you say, the second lieutenant was there, and Shentel said he was looking for witnesses. And they suddenly show up at the trial. Why suddenly? So that they wouldn't work you over properly. That's why they didn't let you see them. Like, no one, not even the Corps Commander, should have been allowed to come to court! Donkeys! There's a regulation that says that before you appear before a court, you must be examined to determine whether you're fit to stand before that very court! What's the point of judging a senseless log or a corpse?! That's an old regulation, but the colonel has an excellent memory! They shouldn't have gotten involved with him. Oh, and they shouldn't have. It's a shame you got into such a mess, but you should have thought before you threw your hands at him! Although I understand you. I would have nailed the goat myself. And now... now the situation is completely different! We'll find out the lieutenant's name from Dert - he won't hide it. Look how... here's what's possible - we find this lieutenant, invite him to court, he promises to tell everything as it was, and then - bam! And he takes Shentel's side, as expected. Now that would be a number! Well, that's it, I'm going to the colonel to report that you're alive and well, haven't gone crazy, and can take part in the trial. Congratulations!

The doctor jumped off the bunk and stepped towards the door, but Ned stopped him:

- Wait! When is the trial?

- Soon. Today. Don't worry, we'll think of something. They'll dance for us... By the way, how about you, could you repeat that fight? Well, where did you tear your head off?

"Well… I could," Ned answered hesitantly, "I just wouldn't want to."

- He wouldn't want that! - the doctor barked. - Do you want to go to the punishment bench? Blockhead - do what I tell you. What will your smart friends tell you! Let's say - jump up, what should you ask?

"How high, huh?" Ned smiled.

- There! You're starting to get smart! - the doctor grinned and immediately wiped the smile off his face - that's it, I'm running away. I need to make it before six o'clock. Rest, gain strength.

"I need something to eat!" Ned cried plaintively.

- Oh! Demons! I forgot! Nna! - the doctor threw a huge package at Ned, which he somehow managed to carry under his robe. Eat!

Ned picked up the bag and opened it to the sound of the door creaking as it closed. He bit into the circle of smoked sausage with a purr, pushed the first pieces of fragrant, juicy meat into his food-starved throat, took a bite of the flatbread, washed it down with water from the bottle… and it all didn't seem so bad!

Half an hour later, well-fed and contented, Ned was already dozing on the bunk, his folded hands under his head. When the guards came for him, he was as fresh as a flower after the rain – how much time does a young, strong body need to recover?

* * *

– Sergeant Ned the Black is charged… with the code… paragraph… despite the fact that… despite everything… he dared… officer's honor… honor of the Corps… and this on the eve of the campaign… – Major Shentel's voice buzzed, buzzed, buzzed… it reminded him of a fly hovering over a bucket of slop… zzzzz… zzzzz… Ned alternately closed and opened his eyes – first the left, then the right, examining those present, and Zheresar frowned sternly, as if to say – stop it! Serious matter! Then Ned began to look out the window. But there was nothing new there – spearmen stomping across the parade ground, swordsmen running between the rows, changing places with crossbowmen. Everything as always, everything as usual. And only here – zzzzz… zzzzz… inducing sleep…

- Ned the Black! What, is he asleep or something? - Colonel Zaid even rose from his seat - Hey, spearman! Give him a push or something!

- Ned! - roared the healer - the guy guiltily blinked his eyes, came out of oblivion and looked around the hall, as if he had just seen it. He himself did not understand what had happened - as if he had fallen somewhere and was seeing dreams - white-sailed ships were sailing by, the sea was roaring, there was a smell of some kind of incense - as if Ned was there - touching, feeling, smelling.

- Ned the Black, what can you say in your defense? Is that how it all happened or not?

"Is this what Major Shentel said?" Ned asked innocently.

- No! Demons take you! This is about the girl from the harbor brothel! - Zaid roared - Gods, who are we judging?! Zheresar, is he normal? I think his brain has twisted in this prison!

- Normal, normal! - boomed Zheresar - son, tell us how it all really was. Tell us everything, don't hide it! Don't hide anything. And then we'll decide whether to believe you or not.

- Okay. Just don't let anyone interrupt me, okay? - Ned chuckled.

"Let's not interrupt," Colonel Heverad grinned, "go ahead, spill the truth… whatever it may be."

- Good. So, I went to the canteen to have something to eat before the end of the lunch break. There were two lieutenants sitting in the canteen, one of them was Zasler - I learned his name later - and the second lieutenant - I don't know his name, he's sitting there on the bench, third from the edge. And also, a little further away - there was a sergeant, that one, on the third bench, second from the edge. Entering the canteen, I headed to the distribution area to get my lunch. When I passed Zasler...

Ned spent about ten minutes detailing the events of that hour, to the deathly silence of the hall. And when he relayed Zasler's words addressed to Ned, the hall gasped, and Zasler screamed from his seat that it was a lie, and that this scoundrel was deliberately trying to slander him.

Heverad stopped the lieutenant with a sweeping gesture, as if swatting away an annoying fly. The lieutenant shut up and Ned continued, stopping at the moment when he was arrested and taken to prison.

There was silence for a few seconds, then Heverad spoke, and his heavy words fell into the hall like granite tombstones on fresh graves:

- Tell me, Sergeant, what is your opinion - why did all this happen? How do you explain what happened? What do you think about this?

- I object! - Shentel screamed - this is all a lie, an attempt to evade responsibility! There is no point in listening to his nonsense!

- Shut up! - the colonel roared and slammed his fist on the table - have you forgotten, Major Shentel?! Who gave you permission to shout from your seat?! Who gave you the word! A reprimand in your personal file! For breach of discipline during an important investigation! If anyone else interferes with my investigation, they will be punished! Speak up, Sergeant! (Well, boy, why are you staring so wide-eyed?! Don't let me down! Go ahead, hit the goats! Don't be afraid! - thought Heverad) And Ned "hit"!

"I believe that this was a deeply and subtly conceived conspiracy against the Commanding General of the Marine Corps, with the aim of discrediting him, casting a shadow on his authority as a commander," Ned said calmly and clearly.

The hall became noisy, the officers rose from their seats, but the colonel, nodding with satisfaction, ordered:

- Go on! Don't be afraid, tell it all as it is, as it was!

– This conspiracy was organized by Major Shentel, with the help of his people – Zasler, and this lieutenant. They both knew about it. One insulted me and Colonel Heverad, the other covered for him to create the appearance that he was not involved, but he himself was supposed to serve as a false witness. In my opinion, the sergeant who was in the room had nothing to do with the provocation. Yes, I admit that I could not stand it and hit Zasler. He insulted my commander, insulted me, and therefore insulted the entire Marine Corps. I guessed about the conspiracy, thinking over all aspects of this matter. For example – Zasler fell to the floor from my light blow, not even a blow, but a slap in the face, as if he were not an adult man, but a small child. The second lieutenant played his role unconvincingly, very weakly, without soul. He was clearly lying – I also realized this after the scandal was over. Major Shentel and his men showed up at the exact moment I entered the dining room and punched Zasler, as if he had guessed what was about to happen. Sitting in prison, I mentally pictured the layout of the windows in the Security Service office, and I realized that the major was watching the passage to the dining room from the window. He saw me. And then he gathered his men and ran after me. Why did he do everything through me? Because Colonel Heverad had promoted me, and Shentel needed to cast a shadow on him for some reason. After thinking about it, I understood the reason. That's basically it. I can't say anything more.

- Thank you, Sergeant, - Heverad nodded, - and thank you for defending my honor! The honor of the Corps! The honor of an officer. You may sit down. Major Shentel, what can you say in your defense?

- A lie! Everything is a lie! - Shentel said coldly and the colonel interrupted him:

- I agree - everything you said was a lie. Maybe you could explain why you lied? For what purpose?

- No! I didn't lie! Your protege is lying, your...

"Well, go on...very interesting," Heverad nodded calmly, "what's mine?"

"I propose to interrogate the listed witnesses," Shentel said triumphantly, "this will immediately bring clarity!"

- Are you sure? - Heverad asked with a slight mockery, and thought: "Why the hell didn't you want to?! Bitch! So sure, you bastard! It's too early for you to start competing with me, you haven't gained strength, and yet you're still here!"

"Lieutenant Brock, report to the officers' court of honor what happened in the mess hall?" Heverad asked, and buried his heavy, boring gaze in the officer's face.

"Please forgive me, Colonel!" Brock answered hoarsely, with difficulty pushing the words out of his dry throat. "It was just as that sergeant said!"

- Aaaaah! Deception! They talked him into it! - Shentel jumped up from his seat and, throwing out spittle along with his words, continued to scream - this is a forgery! They scared him, so he said what they wanted! I will find a way to deal with it! I will contact the ministry today and...

- Sit down, you creature - the doctor grabbed the major by the uniform and yanked him back so hard that he plopped down on the chair, throwing his legs up - you knew how to hatch conspiracies, now know how to answer like a man! Be quiet and listen, or I'll shut your mouth with my fist right now! - and Zheresar demonstrated this construction of clenched fingers, the size of a five-year-old child's head.

"Go on, Brock," the colonel nodded encouragingly and again fixed his hard gaze on the lieutenant.

– I committed a professional sin, and Major Shentel recruited me as his agent. He said that if I carried out his instructions, he would leave me alone. All that was needed was to put the upstart sergeant in his place, to knock him down a peg or two. That was what he said. They didn't tell me more. I didn't know that the blow was aimed at Colonel Heverad. I respect him very much, and would never have gone against him. When it became clear that they were undermining him, I decided not to remain silent, even if I suffered the punishment I deserved. Everything is as the sergeant told me, and I apologize to Colonel Heverad and Sergeant Ned the Black for participating in this farce and not immediately having the courage to uncover Shentel's plot. Forgive me, gentlemen!

- Very well, Lieutenant Brock. We will consider your fate after the investigation is complete. Sergeant Derth - what do you have to say?

– What can I explain? The guy told me everything exactly – Ned, I mean. I was going to come myself and tell him how it all happened. Although I was sitting in the dining room and far away, I heard everything – I have an exceptionally sharp hearing, I can beat an animal with a rustle! Everyone knows that. By the way – these guys! – he nodded at Zasler and Major Shentel – hit on me with an offer to pay for my silence, and also with threats that if I told anyone how it happened, they would drive me out of this world. I took their money and promised to tell it the way they demanded. Here's their damned money, Colonel, I don't need it! – Brock took out a bag of something heavy and deftly, accurately, from across the room, slammed it into Zasler's ear. He screamed and fell off his chair, not expecting such a blow. And when he got up, his ear was red as the setting sun.

- What, Zasler, have you fallen again? You are probably ill. You fall all the time - Heverad grinned - you need to rest from your unrighteous labors.

- This is slander, Colonel! - Shentel blurted out, breathing hoarsely. - I demand satisfaction! I do not believe your witnesses! And I do not believe your protégé! This is a conspiracy against me, because I wrote dispatches to the ministry in which I exposed your criminal activities and the style of leadership of the Corps! You forced these people to say what they said! Lies! All lies!

"So you think I'm lying," the colonel said boredly, demonstratively covering a yawn with his hand, "then I propose this – a court of honor. Do you know what a court of honor is?"

- What?! You can't! You banned duels yourself! Duels are prohibited on the base's territory! - Shentel shouted, and stopped short.

- Yes. They are prohibited on the base. But the one who prohibited them can lift the ban for a while. Or move the duel outside the base. What's easier? Probably - to lift the ban before the court of honor is carried out. So, Major Shentel - I inform you that I have lifted the ban on duels for an indefinite period of time in connection with the clarification of matters of honor. You claim that I forced my subordinates to lie, and I claim that you and your man are lying. Our votes are approximately equal... well - almost equal, if you forget about the sergeant who so cleverly threw a bag of damned money at your man.

By the way – Sergeant Brock, you should think about playing ball professionally! I'm sure you'd do great! What a great throw! Then show me the technique of your throw – the colonel grinned, and the whole room burst into laughter, enjoying the opportunity to relieve tension – so, Shentel, I challenge you to a court of honor, to a duel. The one who wins is right. And the one who loses is wrong. What could be simpler, right? If you win, I resign as commander of the Marine Corps. And if you lose, you will be dishonorably discharged from military service by decision of the officers' meeting. Each may choose a replacement – ​​any fighter. The right to choose a weapon is yours, as the challenged party. Do you agree? Well – what else can you do – otherwise I will simply order you to be driven with sticks – for cowardice. For refusing to accept the challenge.

- Are you playing unfairly, Colonel? - Shentel grinned angrily - Good. I accept the challenge. Zasler, sword fight.

"Can I take the spear?" Ned asked quietly, and everyone's eyes turned to him.

"And what made you decide that you would represent me?" Heverad chuckled.

"Who else?" Ned shrugged. "I'm at the center of this scandal, I'm up to my ears in it, and I have to defend the honor of the Corps."

- Really - who else?! - the colonel laughed, getting into a very good mood. Everything was going as it should, and in any case - he would be the winner.

- Why with a spear? - Heverad asked - not a dueling weapon. A sword is better, more convenient.

"I was taught to attack the enemy with a spear, so I'm more comfortable with it.

- Shentel, do you agree that a spearman will go to a duel with a spear? - Heverad asked, raising his eyebrows, and noticed how Zasler nodded his head affirmatively and whispered something to the major. (Okay! I'll chop this moron and his stick into strips, don't doubt it! A swordsman against a country spearman, what could be funnier? Everything will turn out just as you wanted.)

- Agreed. Only no armor, and no more weapons. We will have a long sword and a dagger - it is legal, a sword is always paired with a dagger!

- How about Ned, are you happy with this arrangement? - the colonel asked doubtfully. - Look, a fight to the death...

"Everything is fine, Colonel," Ned replied, and his face blossomed with a smile that made the guy look completely young and fresh.

The colonel sighed to himself: "Well, why didn't the gods give me such a son, huh? Mine is mannered, languid, flabby... ehhhh... maybe let Tira give birth to a son for me? Maybe at least something decent will come from my mistress? Not such a jerk as from my bitch?

The guy is confident in victory... with a spear against a sword and dagger? Are you taking a risk, boy? I hope you succeed. I have nothing to lose - if you lose, I'll resign as corps commander, and that's it. I've wanted to for a long time, but I couldn't bring myself to. Everyone knows perfectly well that this vile little bastard was undermining me and setting you and me up. They'll remember this forever. Officers don't like such scoundrels. And I won't let him join the corps - I have connections and money, I'll make his life miserable until he dies. Or until I die. This Shentel is a fool after all. He decided to outplay me! Dert would never go against me, he's a real warrior. And Brock - that bastard! But he wants to live. He knows that I'll kill him. When everything was revealed, he didn't dare go against me. Especially when they showed him the gallows. There is a gallows – but we will find sins! He knows it, the little bastard. You can't stand on ceremony with people like him! As they are, so are we. But the boy was a good boy, how he held himself! He did everything as he should have, as if he was listening to my thoughts! Smart guy. It would be a shame if he died. But that's life! You chose it yourself, boy…"

- Well then - the weapon has been chosen. The duel location is the training ground. Fight to the death - the opponents are obliged to finish off the loser, if he is still alive. In half an hour on the training ground. Officers, dismiss the soldiers, let them sit in the barracks. They have no business watching a duel between commanders.

- What about me? - Brock stood up from his seat, bit his lip and looked at the colonel.

- With you? Nothing. Serve. Atone for your guilt before the corps. There are military actions ahead, try to distinguish yourself there (Or better yet, die, you son of a bitch! Because I'll kill you anyway! - Heverad added to himself) Disperse, gentlemen! In half an hour at the square. Oh! I almost forgot! Close the exit from the base - FOR EVERYONE. Just in case.

* * *

- Boy, are you crazy? - Colonel Zaid, a heavy but quick-moving man of about forty-five, looked closely at Ned, who stood at attention in front of him - relax, don't stretch, no one can see anyway. Do you even understand that you have no chance with this shaft against a master swordsman? This Zasler is a famous duelist! Only those duels that were reported were six! And he won all six! His father was the winner of the imperial tournament "Sword of Zamara"! He really tried to prepare his son properly! And if you add to this strength and speed - this creature is a real killing machine! And here you are - a boy with a shaft!

The colonel turned to Heverad and said indignantly:

- Nulan, prepare the documents to transfer the hull to one of us - Evora or me. Better Evora. You know, I was planning to retire this year. I've had enough of business trips, enough of tents and bad water! And especially with that scoundrel Shentel! I'll resign today.

- Am I any dumber than you? - snorted Evore - he'll eat me up in six months! You'll run away, and then I'll have to clean up the mess? Smart guys! You were always like that, even in the officer school! When it came to breaking windows - everyone was together, but when it came to fighting off the guards - you were gone! Smart asses!

- You should have learned to run. You'll always get stuck with your belly and scream! You should have eaten less!

- Just look at yourself - your belly is like a pregnant woman's, it's hanging over your nose! And anyway...

- Quiet! - interrupted Heverad - not in front of the boy! You've brought up the matter, damn it! What will be, will be! It's not that simple, is it, Ned? Well, are you going to beat this idiot or not?

"I must win, Colonel!" Ned answered clearly, looking ahead and up.

- Well, you see, gentlemen - and you said so! - the colonel grinned - the guy is confident of victory. Everything is fine. Listen, what the hell are you arguing about?! Whatever will be, will be! Well, resign - and let Shentel deal with it! He will remain a senior officer, he will automatically take over the corps. He will fail the expedition, that's for sure. They will give him a slap on the wrist, and they will call us back - especially since I will try to arrange it. Well, if they don't call us - what, no money or something? Each of us has so much that he can't even live! What the hell are you talking about? And I will follow you... Guy - everything we said here - must not leave the walls of this office. Otherwise, I will simply trample you! Got it, Sergeant?

"Understood, Colonel!" Ned saluted.

- You see, he understood. By the way, won't you tell three old warriors why the hell you went crazy and took a spear as a dueling weapon? Even an idiot can see that a spearman is nothing against a swordsman! Come on, explain it to us!

- And indeed - interesting - grinned Evor - I know a thing or two about sword fighting, as you know. And my eyes just popped out of my head when I heard what I heard.

- And I have a chance, - Zaid shook his head, - even a beginner has a chance with a sword. You never know what might happen - your opponent's sword might break. A pebble might get under your foot. The sun might blind your eyes. A wasp might sting you in the ass. A lot of accidents can affect a duel. But with a clumsy three-meter shaft?! I immediately decided you were crazy. Come on, enlighten the veterans!

- I have no chance of winning with a sword. I'm not very good with it.

- How bad? You were taught! Even though you are spearmen, each of you can wield a sword - Zaid shrugged - I don't understand!

- And I understand - Evor intervened - they are hardly taught to work in individual combat, think about it yourself. In formation, from under the cover of shields, and the movements are not chopping, but stabbing. He has never fought with a long sword and no one taught him to do so. You forget - he became a sergeant a few hours ago! But they are taught to use a spear professionally - he is a spearman. The dragon trained them like good horses!

- Hmm... maybe. But I still don't get it! If I go up against any of the spearmen with a sword, and especially with a sword and a dagger - the result is known! You chop off the tip, and shave the spearman like meat for drying. Spearmen are strong in formation, when the enemy cannot come close, crossbowmen shoot from afar, and if the enemy approaches - swordsmen rip open their bellies! If a clash at close range does occur - spears on the ground, swords in hand and off we go!

- Who are you telling this to - him? - Heverad grinned, pointing at the frozen Ned - or are you teaching us the basics of combat? Don't waste time. What will be will be. That's it, go choose yourself a spear. Time.

"May I ask a question, Colonel?" Ned asked unexpectedly.

- Well... come on - Heverad raised his eyebrows and looked at the guy with curiosity. For the first time in a long time, he was interested, and if you forget about the importance of what was happening - he was having fun. The fights, the fuss around the intrigue, the unpredictable result - all this tickled the nerves and made him value life more. After such shocks, life seems more juicy, delicious, full! Great! If only it weren't for the Corps... he felt sorry for it.

- Why a duel to the death? Is it necessary to kill the opponent? Do all duels end in murder?

- Have you seen, gentlemen, what a kind duelist we have? - Heverad grinned, and became serious - no, boy. Not all duels end in murder. But THIS one does. Why? This duel concerns the officer's honor. Honor is restored only by the blood and death of the one who has inflicted a grave insult. If it's just a duel - that's what they call it - a duel. If it's a duel of honor - it's to the death. A replacement duelist is allowed - which is what happened today. In what cases? This is strictly stipulated: if the one who called or the one called is ill, if they are on duty in the service of the state. Do you understand? We are senior officers who serve the king. If we start poking each other with iron bars to death now - what will happen? It will be bad. Therefore - a replacement duelist. Well, so that next time they think before calling themselves a duelist - a fight to the death. Only to the death. The loser can commit suicide - at his own discretion - or go into exile and never show himself in society again. He has another option - to refuse the duel altogether. And then - he will also go into exile, as the loser - losing all privileges, titles and benefits. These rules apply only to the military. Civilians can behave as they want. Although I will note - that from time immemorial these rules have been transferred to civilians. Try to behave differently - they will stop greeting you and you will walk around as if spat upon. Willy-nilly, you will run away to your estate and will sit there without leaving for the rest of your life. Not a single neighbor will come to you and ask how you live. Questions of honor are very important, and very subtle. Moreover - the shadow of dishonor will fall on your children. They will never make a career, they will not be accepted to court, they will not be accepted into a military school. Shentel has put everything he has on the line now – his career, his life itself. If he ends things after losing, everyone will know that he acted like a man of honor, that he atoned, even if he had stumbled before. And his children's lives will not be ruined by their father's actions. But I doubt he would do that. He is weak.

- And you? If you lose, won't you lose your honor?

- No, not at all - Heverad laughed - everyone understood perfectly well what happened. And if I lose - you lose - I leave my post with my head held high and a clear conscience. This loss is yours, not mine. And it is quite possible that the king will call me again when the time comes - well, for example, when Shentel completely destroys the Corps, drowning it somewhere in the Harad swamps. That's it. Move. Do you need anything for the fight? Drink, eat? By the way - I do not advise eating. The heaviness in the stomach will interfere with the fight. Besides - with a wound in the stomach, if you have not eaten - there is a chance to survive. The contents of the stomach and intestines will not fall out into the abdominal cavity. And do not drink too much - you will sweat a lot. Rinse your mouth, and a couple of sips of sour juice, no more. Go to the toilet, be sure to relieve yourself. Put on sandals instead of combat boots - it will be easier to move. Take off your uniform - it restricts your movements, and loosen your shirt - let it hide the outline of your body, confuse the enemy. Tie your hair tightly in a ponytail - it will fall over your eyes, and by the time you throw it back, you will have already been chopped up like a deer chop. No chain mail, no weapons - except for this very spear. Otherwise, defeat will be acknowledged. And you will be killed anyway. Write to whom to transfer your salary and the money stored in the Corps treasury, leave a will - just in case. Well ... I think that's all.

"Listen to him, he won't say anything bad, he knows what he's talking about. Colonel Heverad was always getting into duels in his youth," Zaid grinned, "he definitely killed seven people in duels."

- Eight - Heverad grinned - but let's not talk about that. Go, boy. May the protection of Kualtuk be with you!

"Glory be to you!" All present made a gesture of hand, raising their faces in a religious salute. Ned, after a split second's hesitation, did the same, then, turning over his shoulder, walked out of the office, stamping his feet.

The door closed behind the guy, and Evore, sighing, asked:

- Nul, do you think he has a chance? He's still so green, so immature...

- We were all immature once, until suddenly - bam! - we became overripe. Next to this boy I feel so old, so feeble... Maybe it's time for me to rest? - Heverad sighed, and suddenly declared - I'll put a thousand gold on him! Who's participating?

- You're in your element! - laughed Evore - good! A thousand for the bastard Zasler! Zayd, is that you?

- Hmmm... let's go to the meeting, let someone take bets. And why not? There's so little entertainment here. At least we'll get some benefit from this disgrace. Too bad for the guy. But that's life!