It turns out that Jeff is a member of the Warblers, the Dalton castle's distinctive servant group. They all have their specialties, but are also all trained in what the others do so they can help them out if required. Jeff's focus is in horse grooming, which is how he managed to get out of the castle simply by taking a horse for grooming and then swiping some discarded clothing of the heir, Cooper Anderson.

They haven't met anyone from the castle before. It's well guarded and few people go in and out. Jeff offers them a myriad of information from castle schematics, to guard schedules and patrols, and even some insight on the inner workings of the elite guard and the king's family.

Jeff decided to escape after he received word that his family had died. He was denied access out of the castle grounds for the funerals and chose to escape then. He intended on coming back, but when he saw what had happened to the lands he grew up in as a result of the king's "leadership" he knew he couldn't go back. His family died after being selected by the guard for "testing" the neighbors had told him. His family was picked up one day for the testing, and the next day they returned for burial.

And so Jeff sat with Burt, Kurt, and Finn around a drawing of the main castle and showed them the back entrances and different quarters.

"How many elite guard are in the castle at any given time?" asked Burt.

"Anywhere between twenty to fifty depending on his mood. None of us could make rhyme or reason of it. Most of them will be on patrols that go through the main hall here." He points on the mapping, "and then out through the courtyard. There's always at least four with him, and he usually had two watching Blaine and the princesses."

Burt furrowed his brow, "Who's Blaine?"

Jeff took a moment to recognize that Burt truly didn't know about the prince and looked at Kurt and Finn who also seemed to be awaiting an answer. "Blaine is the king's son sir. The second son."

"Then why isn't he off pillaging farmlands and raping women like his other brothers?" Kurt spat out, knowing all too well the reputations of the Anderson brothers.

"Blaine isn't like the rest of the boys..." Jeff looked down, feeling the hate in Kurt's words, "I'm sure the king would kill him if everyone didn't keep secretly interfering..."

Finn's face scrunched up confused. "Wait. He'd kill his own son?"

Kurt arched an eyebrow at Finn, "Really? This is Anderson we're talking about here. The rumours go that he killed his own mother so he wouldn't have to wait for the throne after his father died."

Finn shook his head in disbelief, but kept quiet.

Jeff continued, "He's also killed two of his wives when they spoke up against his treatment of his children and people. So long as Blaine keeps out of the King's way, he manages to avoid getting hurt. Sometimes the king will send two of his more malicious guards, Sebastian and Hunter, to rough Blaine up, but we've been able to keep him fixed up and fed."

Burt nodded, "Sounds like this kid might be a good replacement once we get his dad out of the way...."

Jeff's head tilted to the side just a little and looked at Burt, "You really think you'll be able to do that?"

Burt grimaced, "Well damned if we aren't going to try."

Kurt looked to Jeff, "I have a bed set up for you in tent 206 near the medics area. You should get some rest. You have been extremely helpful."

Jeff doesn't immediately get up, "Are you sure you don't need anything else? I mean, you leave in the morning... if you need to know anything..."

Burt put a hand on Jeff's shoulder, "We were hoping you'd come with us as a guide."

Jeff blinked, then swallowed, and then looked down at his hands. "I will do anything to get my friends out. If the kingdom is going to go to hell, I don't want them there to burn along with it. They're good people in a bad situation."

Burt, Finn, and Kurt smiled and nodded before Kurt stood and offered Jeff his hand, "Come on. I'll show you where you can get washed up."

It's late when Kurt finally gets to his own tent. One of the perks of being a general is the privacy. No tent-mates.

He washed up with the water provided in a basin and changed into a comfortable set of pyjamas. Kurt uses an array of ointments made from different herbs and poultices to moisturize his face. He doesn't want to look like some of the guys who have been fighting for over ten years – skin leathered from the elements. He knows his family wants him to find someone, but unlike his dad and step-brother, Kurt hasn't been able to see the point in looking for romance while stuck in perpetual battle. He has already lost his mother, and on too many close calls, almost lost his dad. He isn't able to risk heartbreak over someone who could die in battle, or risk breaking their heart if he dies.

No, now is not the time for romance. Leave that to Finn and Rachel, and their not-so-secret, secret affair. Leave that to Mercedes and Sam, two of the colonels. Leave that to Brittany and Santana, two officers who both have repeatedly turned down promotions so they can be at the forefront of any battle.

Kurt needs a clear head to do his job. If he needs to get involved in the fighting, he doesn't want to worry about protecting anyone other than himself.

And maybe, just maybe, if his dad is right, they can retire at the end of this. He can find someone, someone far away from any of the politics and danger he's grown up around. He can have a life free of wearing the tacky uniforms and of unfriendly, yet necessary, protocols.

And he'll have a dog. A nice big dog that will get hair all over his nicest clothing and track dirt everywhere. A dog that will curl up at his feet at night and lick his face in the morning. A dog that will make him gasp for clean air with the smelliest dog flatulence. A dog to run with him in the mornings. He's always wanted a pet dog. Unless it's trained for specific purposes, a dog in an army camp isn't welcomed. Pets are a luxury they can't have here.

It's funny that he's put more thought into the type of dog he wants then the type of man he wants. Maybe that's another luxury he hasn't been allowed. Maybe it's one he's denied himself because he doesn't want to hope for something that he might never get a chance at.

Maybe... he needs to stop thinking so much and get some sleep already.

In the morning, everyone is in their armor. Anyone with rank is organizing those under them. Formations are being formed and inspirational speeches are made.

Kurt's contingents are kept in the back of it all. He has medics assigned to different brigades; his engineers are in their own small contingents ready to help where necessary. His dad is far off in the front of it all, and Kurt is sure he is thankful his son and wife are in the back.

They set off, in a steady march over the land toward Dalton. It is an empire made of smaller empires, yet instead of liberating all the smaller empires it has overtaken, they have opted to cut through and go to the center of the empire, Westerville. Westerville is the capital and where the castle is. It is a 'cut off the head of a snake' strategy, and the one most risky. It is where all the most loyal and trained guards to the empire are. But if they succeed, it will allow for all the smaller empires to be liberated easily.

"What do you think the casualties will be like?" Quinn, head medic, asks. They are both riding horses and she has rode hers up beside him.

Kurt thinks for a moment. He doesn't want to think about casualties. They haven't had major casualties in all the years he's been a part of this. His dad has been too good. The enemies have been too weak, ruling over troops and people with limited loyalty who have switched sides or fled the instant they realized they were overpowered.

Anderson will be different. Yes, people are dying and fleeing, but the guards and soldiers in Dalton are treated well and given freedom to do as they please. Most have a very strong loyalty to the empire because it allows them that freedom. Most of the Dalton soldiers have bedded women who have bore their children and who are now bound to them.

The commoners don't have the weapons, or freedom of assembly to rise against their oppressors. The nobility is kept in strict control and guards and spies are kept in their homes to ensure they don't rebel.

Kurt sighs and looks beside him at the pretty blonde who always sees the worst consequences of the battles, "Too many."

Quinn nods, "I will tell Joe to be ready."

Joe is the chaplain of the troops. Kurt is not very familiar with him, not trusting any God to watch his ass – whether in battle or in negotiation. He doesn't have much to talk about with him. The man seems nice enough though, and many of the troops and his own people, Quinn included, see him for guidance.

"Are you alright Quinn? I know you had a hard time leaving Beth with the caretakers back there." Kurt watches Quinn now. He watched her this morning having a difficult teary goodbye with her daughter. Noah was there too, since Beth was also his. Kurt wasn't really sure what was going on between them. In public there were quite cool with one another, but he saw the way they looked at one another, pupils dilated with want.

"Don't tell me I could've stayed Kurt. You know I can't. I can stitch up faster than anyone... and maybe I'm a control freak, but I don't trust anyone else to take care of my friends. I'm not afraid I won't see her again. I'm afraid Noah won't... and despite everything, she loves her dad." Quinn swallows, to hold back the tears threatening to overtake her eyes.

Kurt looks back ahead. "Well. I'm glad you're here. I know I certainly don't want anyone else but the best at my side, and you're it."

"Thank you Kurt." She stills and looks ahead now too. "How much longer?"

"So long as we don't face any armies, which our scouts tell us aren't along this path, then we should see the outline of Westerville by nightfall." He responds.

Quinn looks away from the road and back to him again, "And then?"

"And then we prepare to fight."