New Commander

"So lads, we're getting a new Supreme Commander," Captain Koga addressed them, setting his helmet next to the couriers' campfire. Ozlo didn't say anything, too preoccupied with his breakfast. His fellow soldiers murmured amongst themselves at the news Koga reached for a bowl, downing the watery soup in one gulp. 

"They call him 'The Marshal.' Apparently the Emperor himself promoted him. They're sending him up from the Northern Legion." 

"I've heard about that guy," one gryphon piped up. "Rumor has it that without him, we wouldn't have been able to take the Key Islands." 

Ozlo let out a small snort. "Don't let Supreme Commander Villsvin hear you."  They all laughed a little, though they all knew there was truth to his words. Villsvin was called 'The Clipper' for good reason. 

"Captain, did they ever find out how Supreme Commander Xaldin died?" Ozlo asked. Koga shook his head, setting the now empty bowl on the ground. "If they have, they didn't tell me or the other Captains. That information is private only to the Senior Officers, and they've only seen fit to quarrel with each other rather than come to any sort of agreement." 

He was right. For the past few weeks following Xaldin's death, the Senior Officers had done nothing but argue over who would take his place. The most outspoken of the five were Gezur and Aurriak. Those two could not seem to compromise on anything. Thus, the entire West Legion had been camped in place while the Aterions they were supposed to be advancing on could patiently mass their defences.

A sharp horn blast broke through their conversation, announcing the arrival of their new Supreme Commander. 

"Right, form up!" Captain Koga shouted at the couriers as they scrambled from their leisurely positions on the ground. Ozlo squeezed into the line and did his best to square his shoulders and raise his head like the others. The army soon gathered in the main clearing around a stack of crates that Xaldin had once used to address them. Sitting atop those crates was a small tan-ish colored gryphon wearing the armor of a Supreme Commander. The couriers sidled up next to the legionaries, some of whom muttered grumpily as they moved to make room. Koga had fluttered off to join the rest of the Captains.  Ozlo had to rock back onto his hind legs to see. The Senior Officers were sitting right in front of the crates, and he could see Gezur's tail lashing angrily. The new Commander's armor was shiny and unmarked, and he bore no visible scars. This either meant that he was a coward, or that he was very good at his job. 

"He's a bit small, ain't he?" a legionary whispered to her companion. One of the Centurions called for silence, banging his wingblade against a shield. The chatter ceased and all eyes turned to the gryphon on the crates.

 "Thank you, Celik." He nodded to the Centurion. His voice surprisingly quiet, and was difficult to make out. 

"I am Bāli, former Senior Officer of the Northern Legion," he continued, turning to the soldiers gathered before him. "Emperor Vodach recently promoted me after my victory in the Key Islands. As of today, I will be your new Supreme Commander following the unfortunate demise of Commander Xaldin."

Bāli paused, gauging the reaction (or lack there of) of his audience. There was something off about this gryphon. Maybe it was his soft voice, or the lack of any sort of expression on his face that just rubbed Ozlo the wrong way.  The Supreme Commander glanced down at the Senior Officers directly beneath him. 

"Officer Gezur, you look frustrated. Would you care to explain?" Ozlo could hear the burly gryphon's growl all the way from where he was sitting. 

"Yeah, I would." Gezur clambered up the crates until he stood beak-to-beak with Bāli. "I'm a little confused as to why our Emperor chose you, some little puffball from outside the Western Legion, instead of one of us?" He gestured to the other Senior Officers with his wing.  Aurriak flattened his ears and bowed his head, avoiding Bāli's unblinking stare. The other three did likewise and even edged a little away from each other, not wanting to be a part of Gezur's clear insubordination. Bāli tilted his head slightly. 

"You question the decisions of our Emperor?" he said, almost amusingly. "I do not take treason lightly, Gezur. You would be wise not to test my patience." A menacing edge had creeped into the Supreme Commander's voice. It made Ozlo's fur stand on end. Other soldiers began murmuring words of caution and worry when Gezur didn't stand down.  "I don't know you," he snarled. "I don't even know if you're any good as a soldier, let alone a Supreme Commander. Just because the Emperor recommended you doesn't mean anything to me. You could just be a toady. I want you to prove it."

At that point, Gezur had climbed all the way on top of the crates and was looming over the smaller gryphon. Bāli, however, didn't seen intimidated by him at all. 

"Is that so?" he hissed slowly, the tip of his sand-colored tail twitching.  The entire clearing was silent. Gezur was grinning, seemingly pleased that he'd gotten a reaction out of the new Supreme Commander. But that grin quickly turned into a look of surprise when Bāli's reinforced claws dug into his neck. Ozlo flinched. He hadn't even seen the Supreme Commander's paw move. Soldiers let out small cries of astonishment when they realized what had happened. With agonizing slowness, Bāli pulled Gezur's throat clean from his neck, and then held it up to the Senior Officer's stricken eyes.  Gezur let out a horrible gurgle and collapsed, flopping down from the crates. He landed on the ground with a sickening thud and a clatter of armor, where he lay, twitching. Everyone took a voluntary step back, even the Senior Officers. Aurriak looked horrified. Ozlo felt the bile rising in his throat, and he had to swallow and focus on not throwing up. The other couriers were likewise appalled at what they had just witnessed. Bāli tossed Gezur's bloody throat into the grass, staring contemptuously at the Senior Officer's twitching body. 

"Now," he said, addressing the crowd, "have I proven myself to Gezur? To all of you?" 

"Yes sir!" the Western Legion answered without hesitation, filling the air with their fearful voices.  

"Good," the Supreme Commander bore the smallest of smiles, and then used his gore-covered paw to direct them. "I want this entire camp picked up and ready to march in three hours! Your Captains will give you your new assignments. We are to push to the plateau by nightfall!" He began making his way down from the crates and then paused, shooting a disgusted look at Gezur. "And someone clean him up before he starts attracting flies."