When I got back to my tent from the morning staff meeting (Geranium) it was to find Pakat and Geheran either side of a somewhat smaller man, each holding one arm. Kerral stood to one side in conversation with Rastrian. Nobody looked happy, least of all the guy under guard. He looked sullen and angry, maybe it was a talent.
“Report!”
Kerral turned to me and saluted. “One of the men caught pilfering, sir.”
The standard punishment is ten lashes for a first offense. “Witnesses?”
Kerral indicated the two men who held the prisoner.
“Muster the men to parade. Ten lashes. Rastrian, choose a man to administer the punishment.” I stepped into my tent. There was nothing else to say and no one I cared to say it to. Everything I'd read made it clear. Discipline means just that. No exceptions, no arguments. Men under arms have to be in a certain frame of mind; they expect rewards, and they have to hate the enemy to some extent. The opposite of a reward is a punishment and all punishments have to come from the commander. And all rewards. They must see you like a father. Well, not my father obviously. I hadn't seen him for years.
Meran was inside my tent, packing for the day's march. He'd got it off to a fine art, learning from a standing start.
Rastrian was right behind me. “I'd rather make the decisions concerning my own men.”
He hadn't saluted, addressed me by title, or even been civil.
“You and your men are under discipline, there is nothing to discuss. I admit a degree of culpability as I should have addressed the men as soon as they came under my command and made things clear to them.”
“Ten lashes is excessive.”
“Your man will be laying them on, don't let him pull the blows too much or I'll have the man he tried to steal from do it again.”
“Alleged to have tried to steal from.”
“This isn't up for discussion. I know my men. They caught him red handed. Let it go. As I said, your man is laying on the strokes. Don't let him pull them much. And remember, you and your men are under discipline and under my authority. I could have had him strangled.”
He didn't like it but it was true. After a moment he nodded acceptance. He had no choice, really.
After he had left I turned back, trying to remember what I had come in here for, then realized that it was instinct. Give the order and go away. No conversation. Not quite like a father, then. I must have sighed out loud.
“Well done,” Meran muttered.
“You think?”
“Spank them then give them a hug. Fighting men are like children.”
“You were reading my mind.”
“Actually I have been reading your books. Little else to do sitting in a wagon all day.”
I hadn't given his days a thought. “Ichmedrial's Practical Considerations of Command, I assume.”
“The one you brought with you, yes. I hadn't time before this to sit around and read.”
“Making up for it now?”
“I should have let you bring more books.”
“I told you that.”
“You here for a reason?”
“Just thought I'd stand around and get in the way for a bit.”
“Perfect,” he muttered and got on with his job, working around me without further comment.