Chapter 17 - With Eyes in the Back of Your Head

If you were resourceful enough, you could find a prostitute even inside the camp. Encrid had heard that prostitutes preferred visiting military camps to working in cities or country villages.

For one thing, they could charge more than usual. And however discreetly it was arranged, this was still against military law and regulations. Any man they met here, soldier or officer, went to great lengths to avoid a scene. No one wanted the trouble that came with being caught having a woman brought in.

In short, the place was full of suckers who paid well.

'Even so.'

He certainly was resourceful. Wanting something badly enough didn't mean everyone could get it.

'Big-eyes must have arranged it.'

"Well, uh, I'm jealous. You're a resourceful man."

"There's no reason to go through life sexually frustrated, is there?"

He wasn't wrong. There was nothing bad about indulging if you could.

Jaxon walked along, buttoning his shirt. Perhaps his relationship with the woman left in the tent really was purely financial; he never looked back. Through his half-buttoned shirt, Encrid could see red, swollen love bites. It looked as though they had enjoyed a rather heated encounter.

Jaxon's reddish-brown hair stirred in the breeze. There was something oddly attractive about his appearance, ordinary yet handsome. Yes, it made sense that women would flock to him.

"What did you need?" Jaxon asked, glancing at Encrid.

He was his usual easygoing, unassuming self. Jaxon, his squad member. A pervert who liked picking at openings, according to Rem.

For a brief moment, Encrid recalled Jaxon on the battlefield. If Rem resembled a charging wild beast, then this man was...

'Nothing comes to mind.'

He had never properly watched Jaxon fight. There was what Rem had told him, and the one time he'd seen Jaxon poke an enemy in the back with a spear. That was all.

Still, he could make an educated guess at the man's skill. Even Rem picked up minor wounds, but Jaxon had none. His injuries were exceedingly rare and slight.

["Are you ever going to fight properly?"]

Rem did occasionally growl at him like that. Whenever he did, Jaxon openly sneered at him.

["I'm not the sort who enjoys seeing blood."]

["If you don't enjoy seeing blood, go fucking die. Or don't stay here, you sneaky bastard."]

["That's none of your business."]

["All right, then. Shall I split your head open, or your torso?"]

["Before that, I'll put two little holes in your heart, each the size of a thumbnail."]

That was where the conversation had ended. Seeing Rem raise his axe with blood running down his forearm and Jaxon quietly get to his feet, Encrid had stepped between them.

["If you want to kill each other, wouldn't it be easier for one of you to join the enemy? Why do it here?"]

They had kept glaring murderously at each other afterward, but they hadn't fought. Words alone never worked, yet putting himself physically between them calmed them like magic. And those two were hardly the only squad members whose fights he'd broken up.

Rem called Jaxon a sneaky alley cat. Jaxon called Rem a mad barbarian.

Encrid had also seen Jaxon stab an enemy in the back with a spear he'd picked up somewhere. Even after being stabbed, the man couldn't locate Jaxon. While he looked around, Jaxon crouched down and kicked his ankle out from under him.

The sight of that enemy writhing on the ground with a spear in his back remained vivid in Encrid's memory. Curious how Jaxon had managed it, he'd asked him in a spare moment.

["It worked because his attention was entirely on what was in front of him."]

There had been no detailed explanation. Rem readily shared what he knew and what he could do, but Encrid couldn't expect the same from Jaxon. Not that he'd given up easily.

"Squad Leader?"

Jaxon stopped walking. They had already reached the Medical Barracks where Encrid was staying. The question about what he needed had sent Encrid drifting into thought.

The answer to that question needed no deliberation. Encrid hadn't set out to become Squad Leader of the troublemakers in Fourth Platoon, Fourth Company. Who could possibly plan to end up in relationships like these?

So there was no need to overthink it. If he was curious, he asked. If he needed something, he requested it. That was how Encrid treated his squad members.

"If someone like you stabbed me in the back, how would I dodge it?"

Jaxon understood him at once. The man had pestered him time and again to teach him how to sneak up behind someone. His persistence was relentless.

Every few days, he repeated the same question. He would have been easier to deal with if he whined. Then Jaxon could simply frighten him off.

But the Squad Leader didn't do that. All he showed was a desire to know, to learn. Jaxon wasn't moved by that passion, but one thing was certain: left alone, the man would keep asking every few days for as long as he remained in this squad. If they knew each other for the rest of their lives, he would probably keep asking for the rest of his life.

Jaxon didn't call someone relentless lightly. He knew human limits too well. He knew how hollow words like mental fortitude, conviction, and determination could be.

Even so, Encrid struck him as a relentless man. His passion for the sword and martial skills burned hotter than anyone's. Was that passion what drove him to act this way?

["Why are you so determined to learn?"]

["Knowing that would improve my chances of surviving a little."]

He'd heard the man spent everything he earned on some training school. What would he do with a long life? Jaxon had almost asked what he wanted to do, then stopped himself. What good would knowing do? They were only passing through each other's lives anyway.

Afterward, difficult though it was, Jaxon had made a sincere effort to explain. That hadn't enabled the Squad Leader to learn it. Naturally. It wasn't something someone of his 'type' could use.

But today's question was a little different.

"Do you think your ribs were injured by a stray blade—or rather, a stray kick?"

It was a natural question for Jaxon to ask. If Encrid thought the Frog had kicked him in the previous battle because he hadn't sensed her presence, he was sorely mistaken.

"No, that was because my opponent was monstrously strong."

"Then?"

A rare follow-up question.

"Curious?" Encrid asked in return.

He knew Jaxon's usual manner well. The man didn't get curious. He simply kept everyone at a comfortable distance, neither drawing closer nor pulling away.

No one considered themselves particularly close to Jaxon, but outside Squad 444, no one particularly disliked him either. A comfortable distance. That was his usual way.

So asking something like this might feel awkward for him. And Encrid knew that responding this way would get him an answer without further questions. He hadn't intended their relationships to develop this way, but living with these men had taught him their usual reactions and attitudes.

"No. Not at all. If someone's going to thrust a spear at you from behind, you simply notice them first."

As expected, his explanation was abysmal. Rem said he was bad at explaining things, but next to Jaxon, he could make a living as a sword instructor for a distinguished house.

Fortunately, Encrid had experienced all sorts of teachers. Some taught better than they fought. Others were skilled but hopeless at teaching. With every teacher, at every turn, Encrid had gotten his money's worth. He had more than enough ways to get a good lesson out of someone.

"How do I notice them first?" Encrid asked.

"Keep looking around you."

"What if they get me anyway?"

"Look around more often."

"I can't spend all day turning my head, can I?"

"You could, Squad Leader."

"No, I can't."

The bastard sometimes made him out to be a strange sort of person. Unlike Rem, he wasn't joking. He was serious. A few encounters had taught Encrid how to respond: firmly say he couldn't.

Sure enough, his firmness seemed to change Jaxon's mind. Jaxon glanced around and moved off to one side, where assorted supplies were piled beside the Medical Barracks. Perching on top of them, he leaned lightly against the tent beside him.

"This looks like it'll take a while."

"I've got a long day ahead."

At least until bedtime, he had more time than he knew what to do with.

"We still need to eat, don't we?"

"Will missing one meal kill you? I'll take your meal duty for the rest of my life. Ah, for as long as we're in the same squad, of course."

The promise would vanish once today ended anyway. Encrid made promises with abandon.

"If you're joking, I won't find it funny."

The funny thing was that every member of Squad 444 hated chores like washing dishes and meal duty above all else. They would rather fight. Why? They hated tending to what the others stuffed their faces with, and they hated washing up after those bastards.

They were lunatics to a man, but they had much to teach him. At least when it came to battlefields and combat, he couldn't have asked for better teachers.

What if Jaxon couldn't solve this? Better to concentrate than waste time worrying about that. If it still didn't work, he would seek out Rem or another squad member in another today.

A soldier who came off the battlefield without a scratch. Encrid didn't know whether Jaxon truly possessed exceptional skill. He hadn't seen it with his own eyes. But the results said he was an extraordinary soldier. Rem's attitude was further evidence of his skill.

Then there would be something to learn. Even if it wasn't particularly helpful now, it would surely prove useful later. Had the heart of the beast been useful from the moment he learned it?

"I don't have time for empty promises."

"Didn't you just say you had all day?"

"That's different."

"Very well. I'll trust you to keep your word."

Encrid nodded and settled on the ground in front of Jaxon. A few passing soldiers looked their way, but no one spoke to them.

They sat facing each other amid the passing soldiers and supply carts. One sat higher atop the supplies, but the difference wasn't enough to bother either of them.

Jaxon felt strange. Encrid had plopped down and was looking at him. The gravel and stones embedded in the ground must have been uncomfortable. More than that, despite the dust stirred up by the passing carts, his eyes showed he'd forgotten his surroundings entirely.

Without a trace of doubt, he focused on what Jaxon had to say. The earnestness in those eyes prompted Jaxon to speak.

"People have five senses."

"You mean eyes, nose, ears, that sort of thing?"

"Yes. Sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch."

Why bring that up now? Wouldn't that be a natural question? Encrid showed no sign of wondering. He simply listened intently.

It was a good attitude. Good enough to draw out words Jaxon hadn't intended to say. He had originally meant to tell him only to train his five senses, but instead he began to explain. The words came from his heart, not his head.

"If you can't keep turning your head, put eyes in the back of it."

Coming from the heart didn't guarantee that the words would be helpful. Even as he said it, Jaxon thought it was bullshit. He'd explained it badly.

"I see."

Yet Encrid nodded.

'Well, now.'

Jaxon chose his words. He hadn't expected to teach something like this, but there was no reason he couldn't. He need only teach a portion of what he'd trained in.

He knew from watching him all this time. The Squad Leader was ordinary. So were his senses. He had no natural gifts.

But that was all right. This training worked even for ordinary people. After three or four months of consistent practice, he should see fairly good results.

Normally, this training involved shutting someone away in a place like a cave. An even better method would be to have an assassin intent on killing the Squad Leader threaten his life dozens of times while he trained, but that wasn't realistic.

"You can't keep watch in every direction with your eyes, but you can with your ears."

The explanation was still so much monster piss, but...

"Ah, right. Sound doesn't care whether something's in front of you or behind you."

Listening intently, Encrid quickly caught his meaning.

"Strictly speaking, sound does have a front and a back. Distinguishing sounds will develop your hearing. It's an exercise you can do even sitting here, for instance. Now, listen."

Naturally, there were all sorts of sounds. Rolling carts, grumbling soldiers, groaning patients, a doctor's indifferent voice telling someone to bear with it. There was even the fluttering of a flag mounted on a tent in today's unusually strong wind.

After a short silence, Jaxon spoke.

"The wind is from the west today, and the doctor is in the third tent ahead of us. And that cart's left wheel joint is loose. With luck, it'll come out of alignment in two days. Without luck, today."

He was right. The smoothly rolling cart wheel gave a crack, and the cart collapsed to one side.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!"

The soldier pulling the cart burst out in irritation.

"If you can separate and distinguish sounds, you can always keep watch around you."

Encrid was astonished. Was something like this possible? Jaxon had just demonstrated that it was.

"How to put eyes in the back of your head: train your hearing. Can you do that?"

The important part of this hearing training was the environment; the method itself wasn't complicated. All it involved was distinguishing sounds. Not that it was easy.

"Then hearing the same sounds over and over and distinguishing them would help even more? And once I get used to that, I try it a different way?"

Whatever his ability with a sword or other martial skills, the Squad Leader was certainly good at listening. Listening well also meant understanding quickly, and he soon grasped what Jaxon meant.

"Yes, that's right. One way to detect the footsteps or presence of an assassin moving silently is to distinguish the sound of the air flowing around them. If you know an assassin well, you could ask them to sneak up and go for your throat. That would be the best training tool."

That last part was half a joke. He had, in fact, said it with a slight smile. Joke or not, it was certainly more than he needed to say. The Squad Leader kept understanding his rubbish explanations so readily that the words had slipped out before he knew it. He'd also thought it was something the man would never have any use for.

And yet...

"Really?"

The Squad Leader's eyes shone even brighter.

A truly unfathomable man. That was Jaxon's assessment of Encrid.