The meeting was not interesting. There were no secrets discussed that day. The colonel reviewed the personnel. Quint did learn that there were eight hundred people in the Wizard Corps. There were one hundred and twenty in strategic operations with new orders to procure thirty more. The attendees nodded and were happy about getting more wizards in the division.
Promotions were bandied about. Quint knew none of the names, so the discussion was meaningless to him, except it was clear he knew nothing about the mission of strategic operations and would need to learn more about the Wizard Corps organization to think intelligently about the division’s plans.
Sarrefo stood. “I have a meeting at headquarters. You can see your way out. Tirolo, close the door after everyone leaves.”
Amaria stayed behind, leaving Quint and her alone in the colonel’s office.
“Do you feel triumphant?” Amaria said. Any pretension of being pleasant or personable had disappeared.
“No. Why would I feel anything? I brought refreshments from the basement and then was banished to a corner of the room, listening to everyone talk about something I do not know, and now the crowning moment: I will shut the door after you leave the office, ma’am.”
“Are you being insubordinate?”
“Other than mentioning a crowning moment, certainly not, Lieutenant,” Quint said.
“We will see if you ever sit in that corner again,” Amaria unpleasantly said as she walked out the door.
Quint shrugged and closed the door with one hand, balancing the goblets and the tray with the other.
Three days later, Quint was called to his supervisor’s office. The officer who had escorted him to the basement on the first day was chatting with her when Quint rapped on the door.
“Inside, Tirolo. I heard you like the open air. We have a little diversion for you,” the male officer said. “As you know, we are fighting border skirmishes with the Barellians. You also might know that wizards in strategic operations must spend some time each year in the field. Since you haven’t had any training for the field, you will be assigned to a support company.”
Quint’s version of the orders is that he was to remain a servant, but that was okay if he could get more fresh air. He would miss the opportunity to work in his new duties, but it looked like Amaria had more influence over his disposition than he thought. It might be some time before he sat in the corner chair in the colonel’s office again.
Barellia was south of Bocarre. Barellia and Racellia made up most of the west coast of South Fenola, the continent where Quint lived. He was about to pack his black uniforms when a servant showed up with a package.
“For your field assignment, Quint,” the servant, a willot, said and then left. Those were the first words that the servant had ever spoken to Quint.
He opened the package. There were two dark green uniforms complete with wizard corps insignia. He put one on and stuffed the other in his bag with his personal items and civilian outfit. He was about to close everything but thought of his battle strategy notes. He could review them before he fought in a battle.
There were five other wizard corps officers heading to the same destination. Their uniforms looked much like Quint’s, but those fit much better than Quint’s “greens,” as the others called them. He wasn’t ignored as they loaded up a carriage that took them out of Bocarre and into the countryside on the west side of the capital.
It took three days to reach their destination, a temporary camp commanded by Field Marshal Chiglio.
The field marshal approached them. “I always greet my wizard corps troops. I hope my soldiers will treat you well. Your observations as we fight will help us all improve at this.”
The officers laughed, but Quint could sense the condescension in Chiglio’s words. Other officers took their wizard corps counterparts to their army section, leaving the field marshal and Quint looking at each other.
“You met my old friend, Geno Pozella? We fought together in the early days. We were both in the wizard corps. He became a master, and I rose to Level 3, just like you. Now, he teaches, and I command. I don’t know who is enjoying life more. He asked me to keep an eye out for you.”
“I’m too insignificant for such attention, sir,” Quint said.
“Be that as it may. You have been assigned specifically by headquarters to one of our support companies that support the wizard corps component of this army. We don’t move unless there are support troops to keep everyone ready to fight.”
“I understand that, sir. I will do my best.”
“Since I have a little influence over my army, you will be assigned to protect your company of wizard corps support troops with your magic. Pozella said you know many strings, and he is confident you will figure out how to use them in the field. I’m assigning Specialist Gaglio as a mentor. Both of you report to the sergeant in charge of your company, but Gaglio is an old timer, serving with Pozella and me. Consider your time with us a time to learn. He won’t care if you are a hubite or a willot.”
A soldier walked up. He was older and walked with a limp, but it wasn’t as pronounced as Pozella’s.
“Gaglio, this is Corporal Quinto Tirolo. We talked about him yesterday. Make sure he becomes a real soldier when he returns to Bocarre.”
The marshal saluted both and briskly walked away.
Gaglio watched the field marshal turn down a lane of tents out of their sight.
“I’ll take your valise,” the specialist said.
“I can carry my bags.”
Gaglio smirked. “You outrank me, lad. Let me do it.”
Quint watched Gaglio struggle with his limp for a few steps, but he kept up with Quint, and the man passed him so he could lead.
“What is a specialist?” Quint asked.
“In my case, a former officer who is no longer able to lead.”
“Like Master Pozella?”
Gaglio chuckled. “He gets to keep his wizard title. I’m only a Level One, so I’m a specialist. I’m good at what I do, which is drive a wagon and run the company because the sergeant is too lazy to do it.”
“Are the rest of the supply company members of the wizard corps?” Quint asked.
“No. The sergeant, the specialist, and now the sucker.”
