The fog dissipated by dawn. Viktor ran into Lieutenant Gruber as he was leaving the makeshift field hospital situated in the former shoe factory on the river. Viktor saluted his superior as they passed on the bridge over the tumbling dam, the red brick and brown stones slick with river mist.
He bit back a frown as Gruber made eye contact with him. The man held up a couple packs of Mueller Strikes, the preferred brand of cigarettes by the troops.
“I felt this was more appropriate to bring Maier than a bouquet of daisies,” Gruber mumbled out of the side of his mouth as he tore into a half a roll of bread. He tucked the packs into his field jacket, “That was very well handled last night, Sergeant.”
Viktor managed a faint smile, “Thank you, sir.”
“How did he look?”
“Green but happy.”
“Happy?”
Viktor rested his razor sharp gaze on the ripples of light reflecting on the shore, “That was his ticket home he got last night. They are sending him back to Berchta.”
Gruber arched a dark eyebrow, “That bad of a wound, huh?”
“You saw it.” Viktor replied, trying not to be pleased by the pale shade of sick that washed over Gruber’s face.
Gruber coughed into his fist, “I’m sorry. Last night, I don’t know what came over me-“
“Don’t, sir. Please. There is no need.”
The last thing Viktor needed to hear was the man leading him explaining his weakness with blood. He had to believe that Gruber would pull it together when they met combat. It was vital for Viktor to do what he had to for the Empire.
“I’ve been thinking,” Gruber drew a thick hand over his square jaw, “About what Maier said last night to you, right before I left for help.”
Viktor’s brow furrowed as Gruber reached into his breast pocket and took out an envelope. It wasn’t official looking and the sight of it made him uncomfortable. Already, their conversations had edged on a familiarity that wasn’t prudent between officers and their men.
Friendship between the ranks was discouraged. The frustrating thing was that Viktor didn’t even like Gruber and still the man held him in esteem. He knew he had a reputation among the new men but it usually scared them away. Gruber was like a leech.
“The letter, the one Maier talked about? Who was it for?”
Viktor shrugged, “His wife.”
“Are you carrying it for him in case-“
“In case Maier was ever captured or killed, yes sir.” Viktor’s breath hung misty between them, his glare heavy on Gruber.
“Could you do something for me?” Gruber held out the envelope.
Viktor took it with a curt nod, wanting the conversation to be over. It was one he had experienced too many times. He had posted too many letters. At least now he wouldn’t have to send one to Maier’s wife.
“Of course, for your wife-“
Gruber chuckled, “No, no, don’t humor me, Domnin. We both know that I’m not husband of the year. No, it’s not for my wife.”
Shifting his weight on his boots, Viktor carefully put the letter into his coat. He recalled Gruber saying that his wife was modern. Perhaps it was for a mistress he had left behind in Berchta as his next of kin would be notified at the event of his death. Viktor clenched his teeth.
“It’s for my son,” Gruber blurted, his eyes darting over the field hospital, “My boy.”
He produced a small, square photo, holding it out to Viktor between his fingers. Viktor's expression was bland as he took it from Gruber. A baby in a white gown for a naming ceremony, its eyes too big for its skinny face. Viktor didn’t have much experience with children but this was an ugly baby if he ever did see one.
Yet Gruber’s face shone with the purest kind of love Viktor had rarely seen in men towards their children. Viktor swallowed and pushed it into Gruber’s hands as though it were burning him.
“He won’t remember me if…you know. So I want him to have a piece of his old man, just in case.”
Viktor nodded sharply, “Yes sir."
Clicking his heels, he walked a few feet away across the blackened remains of leaves.
“Domnin, one more thing.”
Viktor halted in his steps, “Yes sir?”
“In the forest, have you seen anything strange while you were on watch?” Gruber edged towards him, “Particularly around the Roux estate?”
He couldn’t explain why, but Gruber’s tone made him wary, “No sir.”
“Nothing strange? Especially in relation to Miss Roux?”
Viktor lifted his chin and prepared to lie, “I don’t know her well but she appears to be just another villager merely wanting to survive the war.”
“Appears? That’s the key word, I believe,” Gruber’s voice took on a predatory edge, “She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?”
“I hadn’t noticed, sir.”
Gruber chuckled, “Do you even like women?”
“Regenian women are not my taste,” Viktor blinked apathetically, “I could have killed a relation of her's after all.”
“That would put a damper on things, wouldn’t it?” Gruber winked at him, “Well, I suppose that’s another reason for me to be grateful at not seeing action yet. Keep an eye on her just the same. I have my concerns about that one. Tell me anything that looks suspicious.” Spitting onto the cobblestones, Gruber smirked, “She needs a little persuasion.”
Persuasion. Black mail. Should Georgiana have her hand in anything Resistance related, Gruber could hold it over her head to get her in bed. Viktor wouldn’t put it past the man. Well over six foot tall with shoulders like hanks of meat and a chiseled countenance, Gruber had relied too many years on his good looks to be turned down by an uppity Regenian country girl.
“You’ll be the first to know, sir,” Viktor sniffed.
As he strode away, Viktor wished he hadn’t taken the man’s letter. The last thing he needed was something else that tied him to his odious superior officer. Shaking off the dread that he had just made a deal with the devil, Viktor went to find somewhere to nap till he went on duty.
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