[u][b]Herakles Leventis[/b][/u]

He watched closely as Karras deliberated in his mind the pros and cons of his proposal. He had prepared himself to witness the lieutenant balk at the audacity of this uppity, low born git; to hear the storm of laughter erupt from his commanding officer, interrupted only by snorts and guffaws. He knew not to [i]expect[/i] such outspoken derision, but the thought loomed to the forefront of his mind as he stood before the lieutenant's desk. With every passing moment he felt increasingly tense, yet he mustered a look of unwavering resolution as he dared to look the man across from him in the eyes. He searched them, seeking the betrayal he found in the eyes of Philolakes, but found no such thing. Karras was genuinely taking the plan's merit into consideration. The man's countenance was a difficult thing to untangle, but, admittedly, Herakles and his training program had made it further than the skeptic in him had foreseen. What felt like an eternity stretched in relative silence before the next words were uttered, but Herakles stood a slight bit taller as he watched the lieutenant nod. He listened intently, a rush of relief and even encouragement surging through him as he heard the conditions. Nary a mention was made of his lineage or its supposedly inherent shortcomings. Instead he was praised for exhibiting traits [i]above[/i] his station. After the hours he'd put in these past two and a half weeks to make himself ready to lead his men, he was confident he wouldn't fail. In fact, he welcomed the lieutenant's observation. For all the toughness the man exuded, there was a pattern of purposefulness apparent in his every decision. Herakles looked on in muted admiration. This was a man from whom he could learn much.

Since that meeting a month had come and gone, and with it the aches and pains of his adjustment to military life. The habit of rising and readying himself earlier than the others was now thoroughly cemented in Herakles' routine. His demanding schedule felt increasingly less so as he settled into an easy rhythm. Even his time in the library grew to be less daunting as the collection of detailed notes he'd begun to compile grew to a respectable size. It seemed that things were falling into place exactly as they should. Until, that is, the rhythm was interrupted abruptly by the Captain's announcement. A declaration of war had been made and they were to deploy posthaste. The reception of this news was a mixture of apprehension and excitement throughout the Bandon. For most the premature call to arms was a complete surprise, but for Herakles the impending war's arrival was already a foregone conclusion. He had seen the steady increase in demand for munitions coming into his father's workshops and known it was only a matter of time before those arms were put to use. Still, he couldn't help but wish for another few long weeks of training. Both he and his men had come quite a long way, but were they indeed ready to assume the weight of this duty?

Time would tell.

In the span of a week doubt was forced aside by the organized bustle of deployment. It wasn't long before Herakles found himself in the Lochagos' office, pen and paper in hand, as he took note of his assignment. He listened carefully to the other squads' designations, as well, as he rendered a crude sketch of the map laid out before them. All said, the assignment was rather straightforward and should prove a simple, if not time consuming, task. With no questions, he pocketed his notebook, drew himself to attention, and delivered a sharp salute before departing to his men to inform them of their mission. 

The next day his men were assembled a half hour early, ready for inspection. As he examined each man closely he could see their nerves, but he could also see that they had the presence of mind to check their arms without reminder. In fact, he didn't have a correction to make. Since he'd met them the men before him had become sharp-eyed and well organized; well on their way to becoming marksmen in their own right. These men truly were not the same wide-eyed recruits to whom he'd been introduced nearly two months ago. And, likewise, he, too, was a different man. Whatever awaited them on the road ahead, they would be ready for it.

As the early morning light crept onto the men's faces Herakles saw what he imagined was the same pride [i]he[/i] felt reflected on their faces. "Fellows, the task before us is one for which we are more than prepared, but do not allow that thought to make you complacent. We will make all necessary preparations as we embark, knowing that our primary objective is to protect any forces whose duty it is to travel our route from the surprise of an enemy attack. In this we will be thorough, for a success here, when it is simple, will guarantee further success further afield." He looked to Danius, whose age and maturity had allowed him to take on more responsibility quite easily, and Hero, a young man from the capital city whose bright mind had surprised Herakles. "Danius, Hero, you two will ride ahead, staying vigilant for enemy presence and report back every hour on the hour. Take note of defensible positions and keep a wary eye out for secure hiding places. Should you encounter opposing forces, report back immediately for reinforcement. Be sure not to venture too far, either. It wouldn't do to have your warning arrive too late." He watched as they nodded, their mission clear. "Speros, you will be with me. Our task will require an attention to detail that I have found you to exhibit most intuitively. We must follow the river, documenting potential crossing points, no matter how unlikely, before reporting back to the commander." Next he turned to Barsenis and Costas, easily the best shots among his men. "Costas, Barsenis, you will bring up the rear. While the whole of our attention," he gestured to himself and Speros, "is occupied by our reconnaissance, you two will have the duty of securing our immediate area and our flanks. There will be little but open and hilly field between the river and the road. Keep an open eye, all the same."

Their mounts brayed impatiently as they watched Danius and Hero take off. The painstakingly slow pace that awaited the remainder of the group was one they would simply have to accept. The rest of the day would involve dismounting, wading into the river to test soil composition for stability and measure the slope of the bank, all the while noting any obstacles that might make crossing difficult or impossible. As he tracked the flow's speed and notated the width, he remembered accounts of battles lost and won thanks to thorough groundwork. That, alone, was enough to fuel him to continue onward. Every detail was included in the Cornet's notebook, which snapped shut and returned to his pack after they'd made their fourth stop.

"Speros, I must say, I admire your spirit. You seem to have an understanding that the soul must discipline the body and not the other way around. If a man is to find a firm resolve and a steady hand, he must first find that calm within." He remarked gently as he returned to his horse, wringing the water from his trousers.