Forgotten Soldiers (Book 1)

by Joshua P. Simon

  I blinked and then kept on blinking. I needed to do something while I gathered my thoughts.

  “Tyrus?” Ava’s voice had lost some of her fear and found a bit of frustration instead.

  I cleared my throat. “Give me a second.”

  Like everyone else, she looked to me for a way to get out alive. The best option really wasn’t an option at all and that was to desert. Those pressed into the army hated the years stolen by war. Those who volunteered eventually felt the same when they realized that once in, they could not voluntarily leave. However, we all respected our fellow soldiers too much to just leave. And as crazy as it sounded, a part of me still believed in the ideals of our king. If he said the Geneshans were evil and needed to be stopped, then who was I to question him? I sure hadn’t seen anything to contradict that view.

  “All right, what are we facing up there?” I asked her.

  “Two dozen. Four D’engiti.”

  “Four D’engiti?” hissed Ira.

  Dekar elbowed him, but it was too late. I had been too caught up in my discussion with Ava about the weapon to realize Ira had drifted over. Heads had all turned, eyeing me closely.

  “Well Ava, the D’engiti are yours,” I said. The Geneshan creations were tough, but a good mage could tip the scales back in our favor.

  She licked her lips. “Sorry, big brother. There’s still a Master Sorcerer up there along with two squad level sorcerers.”

  More muttered curses came from my unit than I may have ever heard in my life. I was among them, wondering how much I truly believed in the ideals of my king with each passing breath.

  I wanted to ask Ava to double check her numbers, but knew she probably had already done that at least a half dozen times before telling me.

  “You want me to go take a look at things?” asked Hamath.

  My second’s face had turned grim. Everyone knew what the odds meant. The chances of any of us surviving this assault were slim. That being said, some chances weren’t worth taking.

  I shook my head. “No. We’re going to rely on Ava’s report for now. The last thing I want is for some sorcerous trap to snag you and warn them of our approach.” I swung my head back to my sister, who had her eyes closed again. “Ava, can you draw something up?”

  “Working on it.” She opened her eyes after seeing it from a distance with sorcery. “All right. Got it.”

  We crowded around Ava as she drew a crude outline of the post in some dirt. I constructed a quick plan based on her map with the understanding that things might change once we got closer. Since we still had roughly another two hundred fifty yards to climb, we’d stick together a bit longer.

  Hamath took point. Ava stayed a step behind him in case we needed her.

  We took our time moving for obvious reasons, but especially since I had Ava cut off the concealment spell. Ava was so good at them that most of our own High Mages had trouble detecting us when she used them. Still, I wasn’t about to underestimate the skills of the enemy’s mages.

  We made good time considering our trepidation and the fact that the sun left us exposed. Adding to our misery, the mud we coated ourselves with had begun to crack and peal in the heat of the early morning.

  We came to a halt eighty yards out. Since we hadn’t encountered any traps or even a sentry for that matter, I changed my mind and decided to chance sending Hamath up alone. It’s not that I didn’t trust Ava, it’s just hard for sorcery to see everything as clearly as a set of eyes.

  Hamath crawled off while we all laid low, weapons drawn.

  No one made a sound.

  He came back faster than I expected with both good and bad news.

  He said little, not wanting to risk more noise than necessary while redrawing a map of the post. The good news was that sentries were just on the outskirts. That meant we’d be able to get closer before engaging and alerting others. Also, several of the soldiers Ava reported were actually messengers who had already slipped away down the other side of the rise.

  The bad news was that Ava had been right about the number of D’engiti. Hamath had been unable to spot the sorcerers and assumed they were all inside the tent.

  I started numbering off each of the men Hamath marked, starting at the farthest one on the left. Then I assigned targets to the eleven of us.

  Since the tent was our primary target, Dekar would lead his team in first to draw away as many of the D’engiti from it as possible. I thought about sending in Ira’s team, but decided I needed someone a little more cool-headed for this scenario. Ira had a tendency to let emotions override his thinking. Hamath and Ira would lead the rest of the men to cover me and Ava as we rushed the tent once Dekar had engaged the others.

  “I don’t like it,” whispered Hamath. “I’m going with you.”

  “No. You stay with the others. Nine against twenty-one, including the D’engiti aren’t the best of odds as it is.”

  “But the sorcerers are the largest threats. Unless you take them quick, those sorcerers are going to destroy us when they’re done with you, regardless if we’ve taken everyone else down.”

  “You aren’t a mage, nor do you have a resistance.”

  Hamath shrugged. “If this is my time, then so be it.” He paused, listening to make sure we weren’t being too loud. Considering the sudden sorcerous explosions from the battlefield, I didn’t think he had anything to worry about.

  He continued. “Look, even if I do nothing more than take a hit and die the second we get in there, it might distract them long enough to buy time for you or Ava to take down the Master Sorcerer.”

  “He’s right,” said Ava. “You’re resistant to sorcery, but you aren’t immune. And I’m not a god. We might be able to survive one direct hit from the Master Sorcerer, but that’s it. We need to hit them hard and fast.”

  I sighed. “All right, Hamath. You’re with us. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  Hamath winked. “I won’t do anything you wouldn’t.”

  I gave him a look that told him I hadn’t missed the jab. Then I turned my attention to Ira. “You’re on your own then, so, control yourself.”

  “Don’t worry, Ty. I got it,” Ira said, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  My voice hardened, angry at being put in the situation we were in. “I’m serious. If you don’t use your head, I’m putting my boot up your rear.”

  “Only after you remove mine,” added Dekar.

  Ira’s smile faded. Dekar put up with a lot from Ira. He sometimes came across as a pushover. We all knew better. Any threat from Dekar, even a mild one, sobered Ira up quick. Older brothers have a tendency to have that effect on their younger siblings.

  Satisfied, I finished outlining our approach, and gave the order to move out.

  * * *

  Thirty yards from the top of the rise stood a brown, canvas tent. It sat in the middle of a flat patch of land with guards and messengers scattered about. Tall pines enclosed the space. Four hulking figures carried axes and swords. The weapons were so big they would have been comical if not for the creatures wielding them. Unlike the others who openly patrolled the space, the D’engiti stood motionless like stone golems guarding the entrance to some ancient emperor’s tomb. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d think their lack of movement meant I could catch them on their heels.

  I knew better.

  They were slower than the average soldier, but not by much. What the D’engiti lacked in speed, they more than made up for in size, reach, and strength. Plus, the abominations were specifically created to take a beating.

  We got into position. Dekar and his team to the far left. Ava and Hamath at my sides. Ira and the others waited behind us to our right.

  I stared at the tent, estimating the sprint to its entrance would take a good seven or eight seconds. Maybe. A lot can happen in that amount of time. Seven or eight seconds on a battlefield for a soldier who knew what they were doing could mean seven or eight dead enemies. For a soldier who didn’t, it could mean g
etting stabbed seven or eight times.

  I silently swore to Molak and every one of the other god that crossed my mind. I had never particularly liked General Balak, but I had never hated him as much as I did then for giving us the mission. While we would deal the enemy a huge blow if we succeeded, I didn’t want to die before seeing my family again.

  An elbow to the side jarred me from my thoughts. Ava gave me a look that told me I needed to focus.

  I inhaled deep and gave the signal, imitating an eastern yellow-backed sparrow.

  Hamath groaned ever so slightly as Dekar’s team sprinted from cover, making as much noise as possible in order to draw attention their way. We watched them take out several guards to our right while using confiscated crossbows we had picked up earlier from the officers’ post. Dekar’s team quickly dropped the weapons, pulling free swords to engage the rest of the enemy.

  With the Geneshans rushing to Dekar’s location, Ava, Hamath, and I broke from cover, legs pumping with everything we had to the large tent at the center of the area. We didn’t make it far before being noticed. I raised my shield to deflect a thrown knife flying in from the left.

  A crossbow quarrel zipped past my right ear. Apparently Dekar wasn’t quite as engaged with the enemy as I had hoped.

  I heard Ira bark orders somewhere behind us. His team was more successful at taking pressure away from the three of us as we closed in on the tent.

  The flap flew open. In the entrance stood a woman in dark blue robes with wavy blonde hair. Her fingers crackled with sorcery as her eyes darted around at the chaos. She caught us speeding toward her and raised her arm. A knife thrown by Hamath struck her in the shoulder, its force throwing her off balance. The deep purple lightning emanating from her fingers blasted off to the left.

  Two steps later, I barreled into her with my shield, knocking her to the ground. I continued pushing inside, Ava right on my heels. Neither of us had time to finish off the woman with a Master Sorcerer nearby. I trusted Hamath to take care of her.

  The Master Sorcerer stood in white robes at the back of the tent over a simple table. There was no sign of the other lesser sorcerer. On the table rested a plain wooden box. In that moment, I cared about nothing else. His wide-eyed expression turned to anger. Our ability to get this far caught him off guard. His hands glowed orange. An acidic smell crept into my nose.

  I cursed and charged, hoping the tactic might buy Ava the time she needed to take him down.

  Bright fire shot across the room. I ducked behind my shield—its etchings softening the attack. Despite it and my own resistance, the force of the blast still catapulted me backward.

  I flew across the room and crashed into a table. Its legs shattered beneath my weight. I banged my head on something hard.

  The tent spun. I fought to stand, but could not, vomiting instead. I turned my head toward the Master Sorcerer, blinking against the pain of what was likely a concussion. I grabbed something. A cup, I think, and threw it with what little strength I could muster. It missed him by at least six feet. It didn’t matter. It was enough to distract him half a second longer.

  He realized his error and wheeled on Ava. He was too late.

  Thankfully, I managed to stay conscious as my little sister engulfed the whoreson in shadow. The sound of his agony was music to my pounding ears.

  * * *

  We started our mission with a unit of twelve men. We charged our last target with eleven. When the dust settled we were down to six.

  Besides the concussion I earned, the mage also knocked my left shoulder out of socket and further bruised my ribs I had injured earlier. Hamath lost a finger. Ira half an ear. Dekar suffered a broken leg and nose. Of the six of us who survived, none of us had escaped injury.

  But we had done it.

  Ava had killed the Master Sorcerer and still had enough left in her to help with the D’engiti while I vomited from the head injury and got my feet under me. Dekar had found the other sorcerer with his robes down in the woods. That was about the only thing that went our way.

  We had done it all right. I doubted that Adar, Baruch, Hayyim, Yahu, and Gal cared much about our victory though. I stared at their bodies while wavering on my feet. Their blood soaked into the ground beneath my boots. I doubted Jachin, the private I lost earlier in the day would care either. His body would get lost among all the rest and given no special acknowledgement.

  I’m sure all six of them were ecstatic about our success.

  My gaze rested once more on Gal’s body, where it lingered. Before breathing his last, he had managed to bring his hands up to his chest as if hoping his pendants might magically appear and save him. The man’s mismatched eyes seemed to stare back at me in a way that said “I told you so.”

  That bothered me. I knew those charms wouldn’t have stopped the sword that took him in the chest, but he had believed they would. Maybe not having his charms had distracted him enough that it led to his death. One more decision I’d question until the end of my days.

  “Not even hell could be this bad,” I heard Ira mutter, using the expression as originally intended.

  A shiver ran down my back, punctuating the remark.

  “You all right, Tyrus? You look like you’re about to throw up again,” said Hamath as he walked up. He had wrapped a makeshift bandage around his left hand. Blood seeped through where his pinky finger had once been. Sweat matted his red hair to his forehead.

  “I might. But if I do, it won’t be from the head injury.”

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing. We can talk about it later. Did you see anything with that spyglass you found?”

  Hamath had climbed up the last thirty yards of the rise and tried to assess the mess of a battlefield from a better vantage.

  “I saw a lot. None of it made sense. Lines from both sides are all over the place. Flags are being waved. I can’t tell if troops are being redistributed or if one side is surrendering to the other.” He paused. “Did Ava have any luck reaching anyone?”

  I shook my head. Ava lay on her back, asleep on the thin, yellow grass. Burn marks adorned her arms. Her chest rose slowly with each breath. “She passed out. She needs more rest before she can try to communicate at this distance. Someone will have to contact her first.”

  “So, we’re in the dark?”

  “For now.”

  Ava sat up, open palms going to her temples. “By the gods,” she whimpered.

  I moved toward her and nearly fell as my vision spun. Hamath caught my arm and helped me over.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  She nodded violently while holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut. Someone was communicating with her. I knelt at her side and waited. A few moments later, she let out a long breath and took several more while blinking rapidly.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  She swore. “Some idiot not used to communicating that way. Rather than asking me what he wanted, he bullied his way through my mind to get it. If I wasn’t so tired, I could have cut him off, but I didn’t have the energy.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “I’m getting there. How’d you like it if someone was inside your head unwanted?”

  I waited.

  She took one last deep breath, anger fading as she processed what she had been told. “I can barely believe it.”

  “Believe what?”

  She looked up, face twisting in emotion. Shock. Relief. Confusion.

  “The Geneshans laid down arms. All of their major sorcerers are dead or incapacitated. Their generals are already on their way to Balak’s tent to sign the king’s terms.”

  I blinked. “What? That fast?”

  Ava chuckled. “Yes. We won, big brother. Apparently the Master Sorcerer we killed sent a distress call to the others on the front lines. When he did, it distracted those in the field long enough for our High Mages to gain the upper hand. Also, Balak’s precautions along the western front with the seventh, eighth, and ninth regimen
ts stopped the Geneshan counter. They say his strategy was genius.”

  Hamath snorted and gave me an elbow. “That’s cause he didn’t think of it.”

  Ava gave him a confused look. “What?”

  “Nothing,” I said. Let Balak have the credit. “What else?”

  “They’re sending a company to come retrieve us and the artifact.” She paused. “We’re going home.”

  A few gasps came from the others at the news.

  My mouth dropped as I sat back. The image of a beautiful woman with dark hair and chestnut skin grabbed me. She stood in the doorway of our farm crying. A young girl and a little boy tugged at her legs as she faded from sight. The sound of rolling wagon wheels filled my ears.

  A tear ran down my cheek.

  “You all right, big brother?” asked Ava.

  I smiled. “Never better.”

  I was finally going home to Lasha.

  CHAPTER 3

  The infirmary stank in ways no man should ever know. Blood mingled with bodily fluids it was never meant to touch. It took everything I had not to retch.

  The sounds reverberating through the tents only made matters worse. Flies buzzed around wounds. Injured patients wailed at the cutters sawing away on limbs that couldn’t be saved. Curses of ‘hold still’ came from the cutters. They all added a new layer of guilt for me. My injuries seemed trivial in comparison.

  One of the mages adept in healing pushed and prodded my skull. He chanted something in a strange tongue, lessening the effects of my concussion. Tears streaked down his face as he worked. His breathing came in gasps. He was one of the few sorcerers strong enough to heal people with a resistance to sorcery. As a side effect, treating me put him through tremendous pain.

  My guilt increased.

  “There are others who need your help more. Why don’t you see to them?” I asked.

  “General Balak’s orders were to take care of you first.”

  The weariness in the healer’s voice was so strongly pronounced I had to strain to hear him over all the moaning and despair. Mages skilled at healing were a rare thing, so they often suffered from severe exhaustion. After the day’s battle, they wouldn’t sleep for days. It wasn’t unheard of for a healer to die because of the toll their bodies endured while healing others.