He turned and focused his attention on the bookish student who had become his quartermaster. Then a halfdozen of his lieutenants converged on Merdon with questions about rations, ammunition, and the best route to take for joining up with the Komani at the valley at Carmeer.
It was nearly an hour before he could break free and inspect the new recruits. They were a typically mixed bunch: some students, a few adventurers, one boy he recognized to be a distant cousin, and a quartet of fanners, shuffling around, feeling miserably out of place.
Merdon welcomed them all solemnly.
“I want you all to realize,” he said as they gathered around him, “that many of us will die before Shinar becomes free. If any of you are reluctant to face death, if any of you belong to families that need you to run their farms, or earn their living, you are free to go now, uid no one will think less of you for it. But once you stand with us, you are in an army, and rigid discipline will be enforced.”
“May I speak?” one of the students asked.
“Certainly.”
“The ground we’re standing on now was once my father’s farm. The Terrans took it to build their factories.”
“What became of your father?”
“Terrans paid him what they said was a fair price for his land. He wasn’t permitted to argue. He went to Kolmar City ‘to find a job, but ail he knew was farming. He … well, he’s just a shell of the man he once was.”
“I see.”
One of the farmers spoke up. “The same thing happened o us, in our district. I’ll die before I see them turn my farm into a factory.”