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Captains of the South
Lip twisting slightly into a sneer, Gimilzôr watched his captain’s back recede into the distance. He was left alone with the two commanders who (he thought) had been appointed to serve under the leadership of Lan’kâsh. Neither was very happy about what had just happened, the wily sergeant thought with an inward smirk. Young Jinan had come away from this ‘meeting’ with a bruised face and a split lip, though the marks would not last as long as the lesson in humility he had learned. The other had been treated even more poorly. Gimilzôr was well used to the many hardships of life in the Army of Harad, and he thoroughly approved of how Jinan had been dealt with, but it was another thing to completely ignore a fellow soldier. Especially after he had just proclaimed his loyalty to the captain.
It was clear that at that time, Lan’kâsh had no respect for anyone apart from his precious Sergeant Benel. Gimilzôr cursed them both, but only under his breath. ‘What do I care?’ he thought to himself, and turned to his recruits. He signalled for 25 men to come forward towards each of the commanders. One wiry young man dared to approach him instead, helping another that was leaning on his shoulder in pain.
“O chief,” he stammered at Gimilzôr in the common tongue. Many of the recruits referred to him as such, and he did not discourage it. “My brother… scorpion sting his foot!”
“Aye,” said Gimilzôr, waving the two through as he drummed fingers on the hilt of his broadsword. His mind was on more important matters. “I’ve heard they’ll do that!”
Once enough of his men had come forward (mostly the fitter looking ones that didn’t carry gardening implements; he wanted to make a good impression), Gimilzôr addressed Jinan and the other commander. He was deferential, as he thought they must surely outrank him, even though Lan’kâsh had ‘promoted’ them to only corporal. Gimilzôr tried his best not to laugh at the misfortune of these poor lads.
“Sir! Sir!” he cried to them both. “Your men await your orders.”
“Excellent!” said the taller of the two cheerfully. The shorter, Jinan, surveyed his troops, pointed a threatening finger to stop a largish one in the back row picking his nose, and shook his head in disgust.
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