Steven George & the Terror
29
What the Sergeant Didn’t See
STEVEN GEORGE BOWED to the people of Rich Reach and bowed to Prince Montague Valentine.
“All this was in the book?” Val asked Steven.
“You need never know what is in the book,” Steven answered. “Only that it is there.”
The Prince pushed a bundle toward Steven across the banquet table. It was long and slender. As Steven unwrapped it, both a dagger and a sword fell out. Each had a delicately carved hilt that fit Steven’s hand perfectly. But more amazingly, on the blades were engraved the figures of two dragons. The engravings glowed with a light of their own and if they were turned just right, one might see the figure of a lady on the sword and of a child on the dagger. Steven smiled.
“If I may, Your Highness,” Steven said to the Prince, “I should like a bit of fresh air. May I walk on the battlements?”
“By all means, Steven George the Dragonslayer,” said Prince Valentine. He addressed the people gathered at the banquet, who were still whispering among themselves over Steven’s story.
“May all the people know that Steven George the Dragonslayer has met and mastered the Terror of Rich Reach, and we are ever thankful for the safety that this ensures for our kingdom and our people. Wherever he goes, he is the emissary of the King and friend of the Prince. There are no boundaries to the protection that he provides.” And so, having shaken the Prince’s hand and embraced as true friends, Steven left the banquet hall.
Late at night, the Prince decided to see if Steven was still on the battlements, for he had not seen him since the feast. He saw many guards scurrying about the palace, looking in corners and behind rusty suits of armor. He hurried on to the castle wall.
“Well, there is no reason he should stay here, is there?” the Prince said. “He fulfilled his task.”
“But how could he leave the castle with the gates all closed for the night?” the Prince answered.
“Perhaps you should ask the Sergeant,” the Prince said.
“Sergeant, where is the Dragonslayer?” the Prince demanded.
“Now, Your Grace, we’d all like to know that. He was here some time ago,” the Sergeant answered.
The Sergeant had not always been a sergeant, of course. He had begun his career as a lowly yeoman and survived enough battles to rise to the top of his ranks. The Sergeant learned many things in his career. When the commanding officer gave an order, he obeyed. Instantly. When he was asked a question, he answered. Clearly. And when he was given a troop to lead, he led. Courageously.
But perhaps the most important thing the Sergeant learned was how to communicate with both his superiors and his men. He discovered that what he did not say was as important as what he did say.
“Sergeant!” yelled the Captain. Captains always yelled and thus when sergeants spoke to their troops, they yelled as well. This was the first lesson in communication. Whispers were for spies. Soldiers yelled. “Did you see any enemy troops coming over that ridge?”
“No sir!” the Sergeant yelled back at the Captain. “I saw enemy troops coming through the forest over there.”
“I know about the enemy in the forest,” yelled the Captain. “I asked you about the enemy on the ridge.”
“Yes sir!” yelled the Sergeant.
“Yes sir, you saw enemy troops coming over the ridge?”
“No sir! I saw no enemy troops coming over the ridge, sir.”
“Dismissed!”
The Sergeant left the Captain’s tent having learned a valuable lesson. Answer only the question you are asked. It seemed to make sense. The next time the Sergeant was called before the Captain to report, the Captain barked, “Sergeant! Has the supply wagon arrived?”
“Yes sir,” the Sergeant responded. He did not add that the wagon was empty and the escort was gone. The Captain found out soon enough.
You might think that not giving all the knowledge one has when asked a question would be counter-productive, but it served the Sergeant well through his career. The Captain knew he could count on a clear and concise answer to the question he asked, and not have his time wasted with other details. And he could always ask more questions to get additional information if he needed it. This went well until the Sergeant discovered a particularly important (to him) bit of information that the Captain really needed in order to succeed in the campaign.
“Sergeant!” barked the Captain. “How many enemy are coming through the forest?”
“None sir,” the sergeant yelled.
“And how many are coming over the ridge?”
“None sir.”
“Then we are done here. Sound the retreat,” yelled the Captain. Now it happened that the Sergeant had seen a large party of the enemy coming at them from behind—in fact, from the direction of their retreat. He puzzled for a moment before he announced his information.
“I am not saying I saw no enemy coming from behind us,” he bellowed.
“How many enemy are you not saying are coming from behind?” asked the Captain.
“I’m not saying there are 400 troops coming from behind, sir. Nor am I saying they are armed with bows and lances.”
“And what else are you not saying?” yelled the Captain.
“I’m not saying that I miss my wife and children, sir.”
“Good! Sound the charge and lead the men over the ridge!” And so it happened that the Sergeant learned that what he was not saying could be as important as what he was saying, but not to push it.
His ability to communicate stood him in good stead when he was off the battle field as well. Take for instance, his wife’s new dress. Like good soldierly wives, she was hearty and stout and he loved her dearly, but she was a bit vain, which he tolerated amiably. One day she approached her husband to show him the new dress she was wearing.
“Don’t you just love this new dress?” Mrs. Sergeant shouted at her husband.
“I can’t say that it isn’t the loveliest dress I never seen,” bellowed her husband.
“You don’t think it makes my hips look big, do you?” she yelled.
“I haven’t never seen nothing that doesn’t make your hips look big like this doesn’t,” he answered. Then he quickly excused himself to return to his platoon for six months active duty abroad.
None of which is what this story is about.
During a peaceful season, before the Sergeant was sent to manage the troops at Rich Reach, he had been in charge of the guard that patrolled the parapets of the King’s palace. You might think it strange that the parapets would be guarded during a time of peace, but you have to have something to keep soldiers occupied or they start thinking about becoming farmers. In order to keep the soldiers occupied and alert on their rounds, every slight provocation or rumor was used as an excuse to double the guards.
“A sheep has been stolen, sir!” reported a scout.
“Double the guards!” yelled the Sergeant.
“A wolf is prowling the outlying farms, sir!” the Sergeant reported to the Captain.
“Double the guards!” the Captain yelled at once.
“A stranger is approaching the castle gates!” a page called out.
“Double the guards!” the King shouted at the Captain.
But, of course, the wolf who stole the sheep had been killed by a farmer. A traveling minstrel, dressed in the skin of the wolf as a gift from the farmer, was bringing the story to the castle, so the guards returned to their barracks.
Thus, it happened that the Sergeant knew how to address his Prince.
“Sergeant, where is the Dragonslayer?” the Prince demanded.
“Now, Your Grace, we’d all like to know that. He was here some time ago,” the Sergeant answered.
“Are you saying he just disappeared?” bellowed the Prince.
“I am saying, Your Highness,” explained the Sergeant of the Night Watch, “that I saw Master Dragonslayer mount the battlement after the banquet last night—and that was a fine story he told, was it not?—and that we never saw him come down. I am not saying he disappeared, only that he cannot be found in the castle or the City of Rich Reach.”
“And he is gone without a trace?” asked the bemused prince.
“Now I am not saying that he left without a trace,” said the Sergeant. “There is this here sheepskin vest that was just lying up there on the battlements. We thought as Your Highness might like to have it, to sort of keep for when he was found.”
“Sergeant,” bellowed the Prince as if speaking to a battalion. “How came this sheepskin to be here?”
“It came in the company of the Dragonslayer your majesty entertained last evening, sire.”
“And where is the Dragonslayer now?” demanded the Prince again, looking in every direction.
“I can’t say, Your Highness,” said the Sergeant.
“Why not?”
“Soldiers don’t tell stories,” the Sergeant answered. “Soldiers say only what they see with their own two eyes. Soldiers must always be depended upon to report accurately to their superior officers.”
“I’m not asking for a story,” bellowed the Prince. “I am asking for your report.”
“Yes, Sire. The Dragonslayer mounted the battlements wearing sheepskin vest. I’m not saying I didn’t see him drop the vest when he seemed to see a dragon that wasn’t sitting on the parapet opposite the tower. I cannot say he didn’t reach out to the dragon that wasn’t there, nor that at not touching it, the Dragonslayer didn’t sprout wings on his back and didn’t mount into the sky on the non-existent wings, nor did he fly away with the dragon who wasn’t there, so obviously did not mount into the sky with the Dragonslayer who didn’t have wings.” The Sergeant paused to draw a breath, but the Prince interrupted him.
“You saw a dragon?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Is there anything else you didn’t see?”
“I didn’t see flames not dripping from his mouth as he didn’t fly,” said the Sergeant.
“So, the Dragonslayer just disappeared without a trace?” the Prince asked.
“Well, I wouldn’t say without a trace, Your Highness, as there is the sheepskin vest lying here on the battlement.”
“And you don’t know where the Dragonslayer went?” the Prince asked one last time.
“I can say with absolute certainty that the Dragonslayer in question is right here on this very battlement no more,” the Sergeant said.
“Thank you for your clear report, Sergeant,” the Prince said.
“It’s all in learning to communicate, Sire,” the Sergeant answered.
The Prince put on the sheepskin vest and was amazed to find it fit him so well. He remembered Steven as being somewhat smaller than he was. But the vest fit quite well. He even felt more princely when wearing it. When he put his hand in the pocket, he found a leather thong with a rock tied to the end of it. He wondered what else he might find in the pockets.
“I see,” said the Prince as he looked into the night sky and smiled. He stuck a hand in his pocket and pulled out three balls. He started tossing them in the air and soon was able to keep them all flying from hand to hand. He chuckled.
“The shepherd walks among you,” he mused as he tugged at the vest.
“I guess you know what that means,” he answered himself.
“What was that, Your Highness?” asked the Sergeant.
“Was I talking to you?” asked the Prince.
“I… ah… As you wish, Sire,” said the Sergeant.
“Carry on,” responded the Prince as he walked away.
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