The sweltering midday sun shone relentlessly upon the white tent caps. The rows between were mostly vacant as the soldiers took refuge from the heat. Every once in a while a young page would dart through camp carrying messages, bets and orders. For a Crusader”s encampment during daylight hours, the place was strangely quiet. The new recruits were marching in today, and most of the fighters were anxious of their arrival. Officers prayed that they would not be given anyone new, and veterans silently pleaded in order to remain unranked for another couple of hours. The rowdy younger soldiers conspired together to find a welcoming dare – after all, the army was about taking risks.
A column of dust appeared on the horizon as a servant walked back to his master”s tent. He caught sight of it, and sprinted as well as he could to tell his master the news. As he burst, panting, into the comfortably sized tent, the herald yelled out that the recruits were coming. Much, as the servant was called, cursed the herald for spoiling the fun. His master laughed cheerily while sweeping out of the tent, bow and sword in hand with a quiver hanging loosely over his shoulder.
The scene beyond the tent flaps was entirely different than it had been a short time ago. Crusaders dashed all over the place, following orders or giving them. Pages, servants, cooks, and the like ran here and there causing more problems than they hoped to solve. Soldiers lined up stiffly in front of their commanding officers who barked orders in gruff voices. Blacksmiths started their fires, and cooks darted all over the place looking for the supplies they needed. Two stable boys brushed past with a couple of beautiful Arabian sprinters, and their scout masters mounted up before galloping out of camp to welcome the incoming company.
One regiment was tasked with setting up a wide tent canopy and tables for the recruit placement. Each ranking, or commanding, officer had to take their list of names and pore over them for the next couple of hours. They would talk to other officers or soldiers to find out the strengths and weaknesses of each recruit, then divide or reassign the ones that did not fit an officer”s battalion, or trade the ones who would be better in a different company.
Much and his master hurried to the table, hoping to have no list, or, if a list was there, a very short one. The names could be memorized, the people studied, and then they would have free time to lull about.
“Locksley!” a familiar voice barked from the small wood table.
The master grinned crookedly as he stepped forward. “What can I do for you, Sir Wayne?”
Sir Wayne, the King”s graying general, returned the smile with a grimace. “You have some young ones this time,” he said, handing over a very short scroll. “However, you have a special charge.”
Robin of Locksley frowned slightly as he took his list of recruits. He had never had a special charge before. The term was usually designated to royal cousins, dukes” sons, or bishops” illegitimate children, and, as far as Robin was concerned, all those people were already in the army.
“I”ll let you know when your briefing will be,” Sir Wayne added briskly as he turned his eyes to the next officer in line. “Carter!”
Robin and Much pushed through the crowd. Every step towards his tent led Robin further and further away from having a name or a face. He turned sharply behind the nearest tent and pulled a small knife from his boot. With expert ease, he sliced through the royal seal on his scroll. Six names were written in the curly hand of King Richard. The first five seemed normal enough. Joe Rain, a theatre child, Richard of York, Arthur of Camelot, John of Kent, and Mathias of Canterbury, who was, no doubt, a rouge monk in training. The sixth name, however, drew immediate attention, apart from being underlined in a thick black line: “Ezie.” That is all it said, no surname or place of Earldom, just the one word. Robin was curious to find out just who this Ezie person was, but Sir Wayne had promised to brief him at a later, less hectic time. Until then, he had a few names to remember.