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He resigned himself at last to the life of a soldier and took his place in line.
From the second that he entered that town hall onward the next few weeks passed in a dizzying blur. He jostled around giving his name to the clerk and putting on the tunic of the army with the rampant unicorn across his chest. He was ferried out to the parade grounds without ever really being aware of what was happening. Once he was there he found himself drilling with his pike in formation, a desperate attempt to turn Jacob and his lot into soldiers. The exhaustion and the monotony began to wear them all down.
"Jacob? Jacob is that you?" an old man with bushy eyebrows asked him one day while they stood in line for their meal in the yard.
He had to stare for a minute before he realized who the man was beneath all the dirt and grime that all of the new soldiers were covered in day after day. "Martin? How on earth did they ever drag your old bones all the way out here?"
"Said they was taking someone from our home for the army, it was either me or one of my two grandkids. Mary's the oldest and she's only nine. So along I came to play warrior for king and country or whatever nonsense they're spewing about now."
"I don't know," Jacob said quietly, not wanting the conversation overheard, "the king's a far sight short of perfect but he's good bit better than this other rabble."
"A fine set of choices we have eh?" A group that stood off to the side, removed from the rest, suddenly caught Martin's eye. There was no need to wonder why the group would be looking for solitude, their pointed ears and tan complexion gave them away instantly, they were elves. A small community of elves had moved to the forestland just outside of Abriciel about a decade earlier, and had been roundly hated ever since. For their part the elves returned the prejudice, preferring to be left alone. The government had followed a strict policy of ignoring them ever since they had come to the country, now it seemed that the war was cause enough for them to abandon their policy and press them into service as well. "Lousy pointy ears." Martin mumbled.
"Just like us, they didn't choose to be here." Jacob reasoned before falling silent under Martin's spiteful gaze.
"Here are the lads." Martin changed the topic abruptly and headed off toward a group cloistered in the middle of the yard. "Boys this is Jacob, a plow hand from my neck of the woods."
A smattering of greeting came from them around mouthfuls of food. They were a motley group but Jacob could not help but stare at the youngest of them, the boy could not have been thirteen years old. "How old are you?" he asked before he could stop himself.
"Twelve." The boy said unfazed.
"Aren't you a little young to be in the army?"
"Ain't you a little old?" the boy shot back with a laugh. "Cristobal at your service sir. You on the pikes too?"
"Yea," Jacob was a little taken aback by Cristobal's forthright attitude. "Why did you join up." He asked weakly, not sure of what else to say.
"Got a girl back home that I aim to marry.