Chapter Four

"Gilbert, pack the horse!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Gilbert, see to it the maps are in order!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Gilbert, stop day dreaming and get back to work!"

"Yes, sir!"

Gilbert was not happy with how the new commanding officer was running him around since he returned to the knights. The very next morning a never ending list of orders were barked at him from predawn to late night. His old captain gave him the freedom to run about camp and mingle at leisure with the other men until the occasional mission to hunt down the enemy's nation. Now he could not leave the captain's sights long enough to take a piss before being called forth for another chore. Gil bit his tongue and followed through, but simmered just below the surface. It felt like he had been demoted below the dogs.

"Gilbert!"

"I'm coming, sheesh…" Gil mumbled under his breath as he tromped through the mud. His day was once again ranking among the unawesome. "Yes, sir, how may I help you?"

"What is this?" He held up the map Gil had brought to the war table earlier that morning.

"That's the map you asked for, sir… Are they not to your liking?"

"When was this map drawn up?"

The map was tossed at Gil and nearly landed in the mud. Gil scoured the worn print for the artist's date of completion. "It says fifty years ago, sir."

"I want you to get me a more recent map. There is a mapmaker living in some hovel a few hours ride from here." He tossed a small purse to Gilbert. "It shouldn't keep you longer than the evening. I expect that you'll be back at your post in the morning?"

It felt like angry hornets were having their way in his stomach. Gil knew it would take time to regain the company's trust, but that did not make their stinging comments any more palatable. He tied the purse tight around his belt. Determined not to show his frustration, he stood up straight as an admiral and looked the man straight in the eye. "Yes, sir."

Something unfamiliar could be seen in the captain's eyes. It did not seem to be a negative thing though. Gil dashed through the resting camp avoiding the still cold glances of the men. At least the horses seemed to forgive him. A grey mare greeted him with lowered head. She took the bit and saddle easy enough. With a kick of his heels, they jumped forward into a smooth gallop racing over field and hill.

A few hours ride was not the half of it. By the time Gilbert came across a small wood hut he assumed was the correct hovel he was too saddle sore for words. He brought the mare to a halt and dismounted shaking out his numb legs. The sun sat low on the horizon line casting orange and red over anything in reach.

"Hey! Does anyone live here?" Gil looked around the front of the shack in search of life. His small fist made sharp knocks on the door. "Hey, mapmaker, you dead in there or something? Hey! Heeelloooo? Anybody home? He-"

The door swung open without warning knocking him flat on his butt. "For the love of God, shut the hell up!"

"What the hell was that for?" Gilbert rubbed his sore backside as he stood. He was surprised to find a familiar face staring back at him. "Hungary? What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? What are you doing out here yelling so loudly?" Hungary* put his hands on his hips. "You really lack in manners, you know…"

"Shut up!" Gil narrowed his eyes. "My new boss told me to come for a new map. So I'm here for the old man."

"Hmph. What happened to your old boss? Did he finally get tired of your clowning around?" His heart turned to stone and sank to the deepest pit of his stomach. He felt sick. Hungary took notice of his sudden clamming up. "Hey, what's wrong with you?"

"My boss didn't leave me… He's dead." The words seemed to fall out of his mouth like weights. Somehow the voice was not his own either. "He died because I left my troops behind to visit my brother. I didn't get back in time… They engaged the enemy without me and were-"

His voice cracked. Gilbert clenched his fists tight enough to break the first layers of skin. He could not bring himself to look up at the boy in front of him. "I wasn't there to defend him."

"Did you cry?"

"No."

"Then you are even more of an idiot than I thought. If it's not worth crying over, why beat yourself up." The Hungarian nation grabbed Gil by the shoulders and forced their eyes to meet. "This is not the obnoxious albino I know? Austria told me about your visit to see Holy Rome. You both needed that. And you visited your father, right? That took courage. I know your boss meant a lot to you, but he died in battle. That is an honorable way to go. And so what if you were there? Would that have stopped his death for sure? Men are mortal, Gil."

"But If I was there-"

"But nothing! Is this what the Awesome Gilbert has been reduced to? Nothing more than a blubbering baby moping over things completely out of his control. I bet the sun wakes up before you now, doesn't it? Here I thought you were a warrior. All I see now is a kicked puppy."

"Shut up!"Gilbert snapped fuming with anger. "I am not a kicked dog. I am not a baby. I am a warrior. I am AWESOME!"

Hungary smiled. "That's the hothead I know."

"It is only hot because it radiates pure awesomeness." Gil paused before frowning deeply. "Not that my new boss understands that."

"What is your new boss like?"

"He's no fun at all." He kicked up some dirt to show his frustration. "I used to be allowed to run around freely, but now I'm at that bastard's beck and call. He has my tent pitched next to his. He makes me set up maps and keep ledgers. I have to attend to his armor and sword. I can't take three steps away from him without him giving me another task. He only took me back after forcing me to bow in the mud. I hate him."

The other boy began to laugh. "You really are an idiot. Isn't all that a good thing?"

Gil stared at him confused. "How is all that a good thing?"

"He let you come back after you deserted them once, didn't he? I know men that have hung for less than that. It means he must see some value in you." Hungary knocked his fist on Gil's head teasingly. "And if he is having you do all this work and keeping you near him, I bet that means he trusts you."

"And I'm supposed to be the idiot? How does keeping me under foot mean he trusts me?"

"He's training you, dummy." Hungary hit him again, this time a bit harder. "He's showing you the basics of being a captain in charge of his own troops. I've seen it done with my own countrymen time and time again."

"Training me to be a captain…" A ray of hope seemed to peek through the clouds just for him. "So, I'm not a failure. He just recognizes how truly awesome I am."

Hungary went to hit him a third time, but Gilbert caught him by the wrist. He smiled. "Now you've got it. I guess there is a brain in there somewhere."

"Is the mapmaker in?" Gilbert could not let his important mission be delayed. His knights needed him after all. "I need to see him right away."

Hungary made a troubled face. "Well…"

He led Gilbert inside the hovel. Inside was a dank one room living space. The only source of light came from the twelve candles lit around a rotting wooden desk. Rotting worse than his workspace was the mapmaker. Gilbert was surprised- not scared- when the man looked up from his work and spoke.

"Who's that there?"

Hungary put his hand over his mouth before he could reply. "It's no use. The old man is a deaf as a stone. It'd be better to look for a map elsewhere."

"No!" Gil pushed him aside. "I have a task to complete and I'll be damned if I let a deaf half-corpse get in the way."

"Suit yourself." Hungary sighed and shook his head disapprovingly.

Edging closer to the decaying man, Gilbert glimpsed the beautiful illustrations of the map he was paying such devotion to. When he looked into those grey eyes, he recognized a faint light burning beneath the wisps of new cataracts. A light he saw in his captain's eyes from time to time; one that he often saw in his own reflection. The old man still had pride in his work.

Gil brought forth the small coin purse meant as payment and placed it at the man's feet. Then he knelt on one knee with his head lowered. When he knelt before his vati, it was in mockery. When he knelt before his captain, it was self serving. When he knelt before this man in front of him, he did so in respect. He learned how to kneel, and when he felt a light boney hand rest on top of his head he learned how to stand back up again.

The mapmaker was smiling at him. Though he was missing most of his teeth, it was a warm smile. "What a good boy. You must be a squire. I'm sure your master is very proud of you."

Even though he did not like the thought of having a "master," Gil returned the smile and nodded. He lifted the coin purse so that the man could hold it in his hands.

"Ah, you must be inquiring about one of my maps. I've made maps for kings and lords for many years I'll have you know." The man stood and Gilbert could have sworn he heard the man's bones creak as he moved. He shuffled to a shelf and pulled down a large rolled up map. The weight seemed burdensome, so Gil went to him before the man fell. "This was the last map I completed. It can guide you from the Baltic Sea to Mediterranean and from the face of Portugal to the reach of Asia Minor. I would be honored if your master would use my final work. I'm not like to finish another."

Gilbert gave a short bow as accepted the map. That pleased the man enough. Hungary was watch him with eyes wide. "What are you gaping at?"

"You bowed the knee." The boy gave a loud chortle. "I never would have thought you could be so courteous. Am I ever going to see this side of you again, Gilly?"

"I told you never to call me that!" Hungary was one of the few nations he trusted enough to give his name. Unfortunately his Austrian cousin told him about H.R.'s nick name for Gil. That led to some unwanted teasing. "Only Holy Rome can call me that!"

"Aw, you're turning pink. You do kind of look like a Gillyflower now that I think of it," Hungary laughed.

"Shut up!" Gil swung the map like a sword at the boys head, but he stepped out of the way. "And if you tell anyone about today I'll cut your head off and take your nation as my own."

"Haha," Hungary laughed and placed a friendly hand on Gil's shoulder. Then his face suddenly turned dark. "I'd like to see you try…"

Gilbert felt the muscles in his back tighten up.

"Haha, your face." The boy let go. "You looked like you were going to wet your trousers. Priceless."

"Shut up. I don't have time to waste with stupid nation like you." He stuck his tongue out as he pushed his way through the door. Hungary only laughed and returned the favor.

Night had fallen by the time Gilbert reigned his horse toward camp and the sun would be rising just as he returned, but the ride felt less irksome. A new feeling began spreading in his chest as he galloped through the sleepy woods. He smiled when he could see the soft flickering of cap fires ahead. Riding straight up to the captains quarters, Gil leapt from his saddle and plunged into the tent.

"Christ sakes!" The captain was just getting his tunic pulled over his head when Gil skidded to a stop in front of him. "What has gotten into you?"

"Nothing sir." Gilbert smiled and gave a salute. "I have the map you requested, sir. The man said it is likely to be that last he ever makes, sir. Here you are, sir."

He took the map with a suspicious look. After unrolling the map on a table made of wood crates, a smile turned the corners of his lips skyward. "You've done well, Gilbert. This is a superb map."

Gilbert could hardly believe the smile was for him. The captain ruffled his hair with a heavy callused hand. "Thank you, sir."

"Grab a few hours rest then come back here. After the men have broken their fast, we will be discussing territories and future assaults. I want you to sit in and take note."

"Yes, sir."

*At this point in the story Gilbert is unaware of the fact that Hungary is a girl. Just go with it. I will address the gender thing later on. Thank you for reading. =)