It was late afternoon when the train slowed to a stop at the top of the last incline. Soon the sun would touch the horizon, and after this one little errand they would begin the long descent that would eventually lead to the coast, Jon felt himself overcome with nostalgia as he looked down the same valley that he’d spent a month walking across so long ago. This wasn’t the only place that this trip intersected his last one of course, but it was one of the most hopeful crossovers, and he took a minute to enjoy it before he climbed out of the cab, and started walking back to the boxcar where they kept the mules. 

There were three more stations between here and their destination of course, but stopping at any of them to try to cause more havoc or recruit more volunteers would be a terrible gamble. They were close enough to Jon’s chosen battlefield now that a man on a fast horse could get there in a day or two there would be no stopping anywhere near a town. The next time they made camp it would be on a siding just outside the last tunnel to the valley, and even then they would time their arrival for the middle of the night, so they could set up before the enemy knew they were there.  

“Hey. Quick stop only!” he yelled to the people that were starting to pile out of the cars as Jon walked by. “10 minutes. Time to piss and then get back in. This isn’t where we’re stopping for the day.”

Everyone pretended to listen to him, but it's not like he’d actually leave anyone behind, and in truth he’d be shocked if Rian was ready to go inside twenty minutes. 

So, Jon was appropriately surprised when he saw his friend already at the second to last car, ordering a few men about as they were removing the first of the mules and trying to load the small kegs that each of them would be carrying up the mountain. 

Once they were done a whole car would be freed up, but Jon didn’t think that anyone would be volunteering to go the rest of the way in a boxcar full of mule shit. 

“So you’re telling me that not only do we have to go with you, but we’re going to miss the whole fight too?” one man asked. 

For a moment Jon thought his presence had been noticed, and they were asking him, but as he opened his mouth Rian answered, “Yup. That’s exactly what’s happening. I picked you out special for this too.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” the young man complained.

“Well - when I saw some of the girls you’ve been sweet on, I said to myself, there’s a man that knows how to treat a rebellious little ass,” Rian said triumphantly, basking in the laughter that poured out of everyone but the butt of his joke. 

It wasn’t true of course. The truth was that each of the men that were going up the mountain with Rian had been chosen because they were from Pearl Islet, and when they were finally told what it was they were going to be doing, neither he nor his friend expected that any of them would flinch.

“You’re a real son of bitch, you know that Rian?” the younger man cursed. 

“Everyone knows that,” Rian agreed causing a second round of laughter. “All you need to know is—”

“That you’re going to do great,” Jon said, choosing that moment to step in and interrupt them.  

“You sure you can’t give us just a little hint about what it is were doing sir,” another man asked. “I mean, supposing that we forget something. What if we—”

“You got your brand? Your shovel?” Jon joked. Ever since he’d explained that they were going to dig holes and wait for the enemy to come to him, his troops had laughed and accused him of thinking that the shovel was their secret weapon, and in a way, he supposed it was. 

“Of course sir, but—” the soldier agreed, but was cut off before he could complete his protest.

“Then you’ll do fine!” Jon said, clapping him on the back before quickly stepping out of the way as another one of their pack mules was led out by the bridle. 

“You back here to check up on me already fearless leader?” Rian asked sarcastically. “Gods. There’s no trust in you is there?”

As he spoke he put his foot against the wall of the box car and leaned back against it with his fingers interlaced behind his head like he was about to relax in the shade and wait for everyone else to do the work. He was just doing it to try to get under Jon’s skin, but this time it didn’t have a chance of working because he’d already seen his friend being a perfectly competent lieutenant moments ago, and it had ruined his slacker attitude for the rest of the day at least. 

“Yup. You know me,” Jon agreed, “I’d never leave anything important up to you, that’s why I put my best men on it.” As he spoke he patted the fourth mule coming out of the boxcar on the back, and though it took Rian a second to get that particular joke he was soon smiling ear to ear. 

“Well - I’s like I always say, the best leaders are pretty much always Jackasses,” Rian answered, getting up and walking over to shake Jon’s hand.

This time Jon was the only one to laugh at first, though when it became apparent that he wasn’t mad, a few hesitant chuckles joined in as well. There was no way that Jon could be mad at his friend after all. Not after everything they’d been though, and certainly not after Mara. He couldn’t think about her now though. That would just bring the mood down which was exactly the opposite of what anyone needed.  

“Well - the way I see it, this whole operation is so simple pretty much any jackass could do it,” Jon nodded ruefully. “As long as you remember to take the powder and the food, you should be fine. The way I see it, the war is pretty much over as soon as you and your men start your little hike. Just as long as you remember the most important part.”

“Yeah yeah, I know,” he answered, waiving Jon off while he pretended to carefully supervise the men that were loading the casks delicately onto the mules. “Red we’re dead, Green it’s clean.”

“By which you mean…” Jon said, not entirely happy with that answer. 

“I mean you say stop, and we’ll stop!” Rian said, showing the first real hint of annoyance in this whole conversation. Given the way the faux insults had been flying the whole time, Jon doubted anyone but him noticed of course. 

This wasn’t the first time they’d gone over this topic and the first time they’d discussed the flares and the signal. Jon was well aware that Green meant that he was to execute the plan and that red meant he was to stop, but such things required trust. Though Jon would trust his life to the man on anything besides a game of dice, he wasn’t entirely sure that he was capable of resisting the need for vengeance. Even over a year old now, he could see how that wound was. Jon understood, or at least he thought he did. If the dwarves had killed his sister he’d be angry too. 

His brother though? Well, Jon had long ago put that behind him, Marcus had deserved his fate, and Jon would shed no tears for him. If anything Rian reminded him of all the best parts of his eldest brother. That was probably one of the reasons they got along so well. 

“I trust you,” Jon said, putting his hand on the other man’s shoulder. A lecture wouldn’t work, and an order would be counterproductive. So, this time he had to rely on this simple gesture instead. “We’re all counting on you, and you’re going to do great.”

They hugged after that, and Jon thought about giving a speech, but decided against it, both because Rian would hate it, and because such an event made it more likely that one or both of them would let the cat out of the bag. So, in the end there was no ceremony or orders, just a meaningful look and then Rian was rounding up his men and heading out. 

“Alright Jackasses,” he called. “Grab the mules and let's get moving. That mountain ain't going to climb itself.”

As Jon watched his friend start to lead his team up the hill he couldn’t help but wonder if it would be the last time they would ever see each other. Even if both of them managed to avoid death in the coming days, there was no telling whether the tides of war would bring them together or tear them apart, and even if his small team did their job without a hitch they would be days away from the main force in even the best possible scenario. 

And best possible scenario wasn’t exactly what had been happening lately he thought as he looked with annoyance at the single giant they’d been able to take and latch to the train. They’d tried to take them both of course, but the damn things were so heavy that the engine wouldn’t even move forward an inch, so they’d grudgingly left one outside as a message to the dwarves. It was more of a threat really, but that was as much as they’d ever be able to manage with these pieces of junk. 

Jon knew for a fact that the laden mules and the handful of men he was sending with them would have more of an impact than the fanciest secret weapon that the dwarves had. Claire had managed to figure out how to make the thing walk, and to raise its arms, but it was slow and unwieldy, and the best it was ever going to do was to stand there in the background as a phony secret weapon they would never actually be able to unleash. 

“Alright everyone back on the train,” he yelled, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the men that were walking away as well as the brass behemoth as much as the thoughts it stirred him about Claire. He was right. Elise hadn’t been happy at all to find out his childhood crush had snuck into their army, and though she said she’d believed him when he said he didn’t know until that very afternoon, the way she said it made him less than positive that it was true. Much like the actual machine that inspired the argument he was hopeful that it would finally stop being a burden as they started their downward slide down the mountain. 

“If you’re not on in five minutes. You can stay here and keep the mountain goats company!” Jon called out again as he approached the engine. “The rest of us are off to beat the shorties!”

A ragged cheer rose up at that. Some people were obviously still talking amongst themselves as everyone loaded back in. He knew people were wondering where Rian was off to. That was fine. They would find out soon enough.  

He took a long look at the blood-red skies and setting sun before he climbed back into the cabin. If thing didn’t go to plan the whole world would be bloody soon enough. With that thought in mind, Jon released the brake slightly, and with the engine almost idling, he began his long slow descent down the mountain to whatever end the gods decided he would have.