Before You Start A War

Chapter Twenty-One

This chapter is kinda violent so tread carefully.
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The next morning, Harry is shaken awake by Niall. His eyes peel open slowly due to getting very little sleep the night before, but then he hears Niall's voice. "Harry, you have to get up. Put on your gear."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure, but I think enemies were spotted close-by and they're preparing for battle." Niall supplies, and at that, Harry springs into action. This happened once before but the roles were reversed, with Harry's company stumbling upon an enemy camp and over-taking it by force. They ate well for three weeks because of it.

Harry pulls on his gear quickly. Niall stands just outside the tent, looking around at his comrades hustling to the area where they normally meet for roll-call. They're all silent, only the sound of their feet against the ground being emitted in the dark forest.

Harry eventually emerges from the tent with all his gear, his rifle loaded and his saber placed diligently into its holster. Niall is still empty-handed.

Together, they make haste to roll-call, lining up in their normal positions. Niall looks out of place, being the only soldier without any weapons. Eventually, the drill sergeant comes out from the corporal's quarters, and all the soldiers salute.

"At ease, soldiers. Today, we have a very big task at hand. Finally, after several months of planning and a little help from Styles," the drill sergeant starts, and several eyes look toward Harry's position near the front of the rank, "we have been able to locate the enemy. Or, well, at least a route in which the enemy takes every day to their supply cache."

Harry freezes up at that. They found the enemy? From the scrawled mess that he and Niall created, they were able to decipher a route leading to them? Harry thought it'd be next to impossible to even come close to the enemy.

"Today, we are going to stop them in their path and capture them, just as they had done to us." A few men get rowdy at the thought of finally partaking in something violent, after weeks of just sitting on their haunches waiting for something to happen. "However, if things go south, don't be afraid to kill them. We're not sure how big their traveling groups are, but we're assuming it shouldn't be more than half the company."

Harry turns to Niall, and he can already tell that Niall is nervous. Niall didn't tell him about how things were left when Niall was sent away, but he assumes Niall was never supposed to survive. It'll be a shock to see him again.

The drill sergeant salutes, and all men follow suit. As he walks in front of the rank, making last second changes to their stance, he stops in front of Niall. "Horan, you are to be at the head of this charge." Niall almost shivers. "Since you've probably walked this trail before with the enemy, we assume you'll be able to point it out to us, yes?"

Niall takes a moment before answering, shakily, "I wasn't part of the traveling squad, sir. I wouldn't recognize--" He's cut off when the drill sergeant brings his hand up and slaps him across the face, his head moving to the side. Harry drops his salute.

"It wasn't a question, soldier! You will lead this march!"

Harry steps in, finally doing something. After the talk he and Niall had, he feels like he's obligated to finally do something, "Sir, that is unnecessary. Niall just told you, he'd be useless at the front."

"Quiet, Styles. Sure, he may be useless if he never used the trail before, but," he pauses, looking around at his rank, "he used to be one of them, so he will be used to draw them out into the open."

Harry steps forward, "That's not going to--"

A harsh whistle is heard, cutting Harry off. Everyone's heads whip around to where Corporal Maddox stands on the porch of his quarters. "Collins." He addresses the sergeant. He stands to attention as Corporal Maddox throws a rope at his feet. "Tie him up."