Chapter 1 (English Version)

5 minutes later, at exactly 9 in the morning, the roll call ended. King Moris was hosting it himself, which was quite the morale boost for all of his soldiers. The day the war started, the Rofian king had taken on the duties of a commander in chief of his kingdom’s armed forces. His decision faced criticism from the former officers and high command, however, Moris had enough of what his officers called “audacity” to ignore all of their warnings. In spite of the officers’ extreme criticism, lower rank soldiers and NCO’s respected the king’s decision. Furthermore, the arrival of the latter to one of the kingdom’s most significant military academies visibly increased the army’s morale. - FORMA… -TION! – The Monarch yelled. His soldiers immediately saluted him. - ATTENTION! – He ordered. Rofia’s brave defenders carried out the order, as their hands straightened parallel to their bodies. As Moris could see, everyone’s eyes were burning. Burning with the flame of determination. The king smirked in satisfaction. His tone of voice changed in the blink of an eye. It got softer, even adopting a more friendly manner. - Now we’re talking. At ease. So, so, so… - Moris started walking back and forth in front of the soldiers, his arms crossed on his chest, his eyes staring into the ground and his eyebrows furrowed. – Tell me, if you please… Which of you wish to fight for your Fatherland?! - I, YOUR MAJESTY! – Thundered above the lines of infantry. - And which of you… - he paused – tell me, if you please… Are ready to fight? – Moris stressed the word “ready”. The answer to that phrase, to his surprise, or, rather, to his interest, came only in about 3 long seconds. - I, Your Majesty. - A lot less enthusiasm could be heard in the soldiers’ voices. - Well, that’s peculiar. I have good news for you then! – The king looked at his warriors mischievously. – We are heading… actually, tell me, where are headed, if you please? – Whisper could be heard from the lines. Lander was the first to answer: - To the frontlines, Your Majesty…? – He asked, unsure of his answer. Moris smiled widely - Exactly, uhh… - Lander, sir. Private Lander Blau. – The boy put his right arm to his left shoulder, saluting. - Wonderful, at ease. Exactly, Blau. To the frontlines! Do you hear me, soldiers? You are heading to the front to serve your Fatheland! They shall not break us! – His words seemed to have called upon a deafening “Hoorah!” which, it seemed, could be heard in even the mountains. - Dismissed! I want all of you right here in five minutes. The soldiers saluted and scattered in all directions. Lander, Benjamin and Emile, however, sticked together, walking slowly. - Finally, damn it! – Enthusiastically, nearly yelling, Benjamin exclaimed. – We’re going to the frontline! - HAHAHA! CALM THE HELL DOWN, BENJI - Blau answered him, laughing. - Shut up, both of you! – Rocher continued, not capable of keeping his smile hidden. – Concentrate, we gotta get our stuff. - As much of a bore, as ever. The trio got to their barracks. There weren’t a lot of personal belongings to take with them. Benny hid some posters (with pretty women on them, obviously) in his pockets, Lander pulled out a can full of nuts from under his bed and Emile – a bayonet from under his pillow. - Hol’ up… did you always have a bayonet there…? - yeah. - and… what for…? – The answer was silence. Rocher’s eyes flashed, but he immediately turned away, putting his bayonet (with golden letters engraved on it’s handle) into his knapsack. Two minutes later, “the stuff” was packed. Bemont, Blau and Rocher nodded, as they left left their barrack, af if saying goodbye to it, and headed to the roll call. Upon arrival, they noted, that most of the column was already there. The three quickly joined them. Moris cleared his throat. - Well now. Is everybody here? Or what do they say here, in the army… - YES, SIR! – the monarch covered his ears - Could you be a little more quiet…? - NO, SIR! – The soldiers answered in sync. -Oh well… I recommend you take a deep breath, because you’ll be breathing the air of… well, not the best quality. I checked. See those trucks behind my back? – He turned around and pointed at a line of medium length military trucks. Trucks battered, beaten and of a long outdated model. – We’re gonna be using those. Questions? – And the answer was silence. – Wonderful. I, myself, will go with one of the drivers. The one of that truck. – The man pointed at the least battered of the cars. – We shall lead the column. Well, my friends! En selle! – He exclaimed and spread his arms. All five lines rushed to the trucks. Getting a spot in one of those, that were still in decent shape was a №1 priority. That was something, that Lander, Emile and Benji nailed, settling on the opposite sides of one of the trucks, the one, that was in the very centre of the column. As their king warned, inside of the vehicle the horrible stench of gasoline prevailed above any possible clear air. Emile coughed. - Could’ve at least made an open top. The response to his phrase followed from the driver’s cabin - WELL GO AND TAKE THE ROOF OFF THEN, YOU SMART-ASS! - Oh fuck you… - the soldier answered. A couple minutes later, 17 more infantrymen were in the truck with them. Those who didn’t have enough space sat down on the floor. The horn of the leading truck sounded. All the other cars answered with the very same sound. The shabby truck spat out smoke out of it’s exhaust pipe and growled lazily, as it’s wheels began moving - Brace yourselves, our enemies, we’re coming for you! – Blau exclaimed happily - You’re goddamn right! – Bemont answered. Rocher nodded. The soldiers had 13 long hours of driving ahead of them, so there was no option but to try and entertain yourselves. Someone was trying to read a book in vain, because of the truck’s horrible shaking. Someone was rather successfully sketching the mountainous terrain that could be seen from the truck’s open back. It was unclear, from where, but Benjamin pulled out a deck of cards and showed them to his friends. They gathered a company of four, including the trio and a lieutenant, that was, for now, unknown to them. Not wasting any time, they sat down on the floor, and Benjamin handed everyone their 10 cards. It was hard to play with the truck’s shaky manner of movement, but at least one of the four soldiers always held down the waste pile, whenever it slided. The game of “the Fool” ended in just 10 pathetic minutes, for the lieutenant and his gorgeous moustache basically annihilated all other 3 players. He smiled and asked: - Shall we gamble further? I suggest, we… - The man put showed Blau, Rocher and Bemont a pack of cigarettes – bid at least something - Oh, hell yes! I’ll have you on your knees if we bid! – Benjamin, the second oldest member of the group, stated - That “on your knees” part was unnecessary, but sure. I will bet my cap and these cigarettes. And you? While Lander and Bemont were searching their pockets in vain, Emile pulled out his bayonet from the folds of his greatcoat, neatly rolled up on his knapsack. - I bid this bayonet. It’s a trophy from the First Alliance War. Belonged to my Father. - Not bad! I wouldn’t mind gambling for that one. and your friends, – he looked at the two – I believe, will not join us? Lander and Benjamin finally gave up on searching and nodded - We will spectate - Sounds good to me. Shuffle the deck, will you? The game commenced. The whiskered lieutenant was visibly in a better position, as he was definetly not just an amateur in cards. He yelped, as the truck was rocked twice. That was exactly what Emile was waiting for. Undetected by his opponent, his hand slipped to one of the piles, swiftly pulling out the required trump card. Now, Emile had the six cards he had before the car was shaken and one up his sleeve “just in case”. Two tense minutes later, the lieutenant had three cards left, while Emile had just two A jack of hearts from Rocher’s side, and the officer, not forgetting to smirk victoriously, uttered: ⁃ The game is u- Holy shi-! – He yelped, as the truck began to shake once again. Private Rocher shook his hand on purpose, tossing the hidden card into his palm. A jack of spades. - Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. With a loud clap, the trump card hit the floor. The officer’s face darkened. - And now, allow me to end your phrase. The game’s up, lieutenant. Rocher’s opponent wiped the sweat off his forehead, his face showing extreme surprise and disbelief. - b… but where’d you- - From my hand. Shall we keep playing? The officer gulped - Maybe… one more round? I- I was just warming up. - Like hell. Do you give up? The NCO’s face pouted. He had nothing to try and counter the trump, and continuing the game would be stupid – with his hand he could never even try to win - Good one, kid, good one. Well play- DAMN IT! – the car was shaken again - played? ⁃ exactly… - The man took his cap off and handed it to Rocher alongside his cigarettes. He shook Emile’s hand, to which the latter smiled, claiming his “plunder” with a sense of victory. Behind him, his comrades were clapping their hands and shaking their heads in equal surprise and disbelief, with which the NCO accepted his defeat. The latter sat down on his spot in the back of the truck, Benjamin collected his cards, and the trio sat down as well - You got him good, Emile! - Yeah! That’s what he gets! Benjamin and Lander happily exclaimed, while Emile was staring at the floor with a mysterious smile. - I don’t smoke, by the way. And his cap is ugly. You take it.