And this poor fool got stuck with the task of healing me.
My headache continued to subside. I clenched my jaw in frustration, guilt gnawing at me even more as I watched a cutter walk by, cursing audibly. Blood bathed his leather apron. He held a saw in one hand and a severed foot in the other. He dropped the foot in a wheelbarrow with other severed limbs. Someone would be by soon to cast them into a bonfire.
Bile crept into my throat. I knocked aside the healer’s hands and rose to my feet, unsteady at first.
“I’m not finished yet,” he said.
“Close enough. I can walk on my own. Go help someone who needs it more.”
The healer gave me a faraway look that let me know he was barely there. Heavy bags under his eyes added to a sagging and tired face. I hurried out the tent as he sighed and began to stand.
I had plenty of sympathy for the wounded, but that didn’t mean I wanted to linger. The infirmary was the part of military life no one, including me, liked to think about. We faced our mortality every day on the battlefield. None of us needed to be reminded of it afterward.
Those in civilian life weren’t much better. Fairy tales described stories of heroics, maybe even a valiant death for those fighting in war. No one ever told the story of the poor cripple who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and was forced to find a new standard of “normal.”
It was night again by the time I started toward Balak’s tent. We had been stuck behind enemy lines for nearly half a day before someone picked us up. I lost one other member of my unit during that time. Omar apparently had internal injuries. He collapsed while laughing at one of Ira’s attempts at humor. Ava never even had a chance to look him over before he stopped breathing.
I tried to push my thoughts aside. It wasn’t easy.
The mood around camp changed drastically the farther from the infirmary I walked. If I hadn’t known any better I might have wondered if our army had suffered any casualties at all.
Men from all over Turine congregated around newly tapped barrels of ale. They laughed with half-full cups in hand, happy that there would be no more fighting. It didn’t matter who you were or what you looked like before joining the army, once you fought next to a man in battle, you became brothers.
I passed by the hangers-on attached to any army. Merchants near carts peddled indulgences of all types, trying to convince soldiers their coin was best spent with them. Lines twenty men deep stood in front of each cart. Victory loosened the purse of even the stingiest man, and the merchants smiled ever wider because of it.
Despite the activity at the merchant wagons, none of those lines could rival the rowdy ones waiting for the whores outside their tents. Many men wanted to celebrate the victory and release excess energy carried over from battle. Others just wanted the soft embrace of a woman after coming so close to death.
The guard outside of Balak’s tent pulled back the flap as I walked up. That was a first. Either the general was in a great mood and couldn’t wait to thank me or he needed someone’s rear to lay into and mine was his first choice. Thankfully, I didn’t see how it could be the latter.
Inside, Balak sipped from a glass of wine, looking pleased with the state of things.
“Tyrus. How’re you feeling?”
“Better, sir,” I answered as the flap closed behind me. “Congratulations on the victory. I hear your decision along the western front worked out for the best.”
He set the glass down and nodded. “It did. The Geneshans were hoping to flank us. They weren’t expecting to run into such resistance.” He grunted. “The mages are acting like the victory should be theirs though. Lazy fools finally decided to pull their weight around here and now they expect all the accolades I sweated years for.”
I chose not to respond. It was no secret that Balak and the High Mages didn’t get along. Both resented the other since they each answered to no one but the king himself.
I changed the subject. “I hear terms of peace have already been worked out.”
“Yes.” His smile returned. “Once they learned your unit had the artifact, they agreed to pretty much anything we demanded so long as we swore not to use the thing. Have you seen it?”
“No, sir. We thought it best not to open the box it was in.”
“Nothing wrong with taking a look. Here,” he said while going behind the table still adorned with maps.
He pulled out the wooden box we took from the Geneshans. It looked unimpressive. Made of oak, it held no engravings or paints.
He flipped the lid and I moved closer to peer inside.
The artifact was carved from the same wood as the box. It was ugly as sin with the body of a turtle and the head of some sort of insect with long antennae and big, round eyes. I had seen better craftsmanship from the merchants peddling their wares to our army.
“It doesn’t look like much, does it?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Is that supposed to be Beel?”
He grunted. “You know, I didn’t think to ask. If it is, I understand their religion even less than before.”
A strange pulse of sorcery radiated off the artifact. It made the hair on my arms stand up.
“Even with my resistance I can feel the power coming off it. Any reason why the Geneshans never used this thing on us?”
He took a sip of wine. “Because they’re scared of it. You weren’t here for the peace talks. I think they wish they never found the thing. Apparently, there’s some ancient prophecy that says if used, the artifact will end the world.”
“And now we have it.”
He nodded.
I snorted. “And they’re serious?”
His face grew stern. “You should have seen how quickly they agreed to terms. They couldn’t stop going on about how the sky would change color, the earth would shake, fire would rain down from the heavens. Plants and animals would change—”
“And us?”
“Lots of death. Lots of sickness. Chaos.” He paused and shook his head. “So long as we promised not to use the artifact, I think they would have crawled around on their hands and knees kissing our rear for the next year in order to avoid their prophecies. As it is, they agreed to become a vassal of Turine.”
I doubted anyone had predicted the Geneshan Empire ever becoming a vassal. I didn’t. Even though we had gained the upper hand in the war for some time, the empire had been too big for Turine to ever hope to conquer outright. At best, most hoped for peace and maybe a bit of land west of the Golgoth River.
Balak closed the lid to the artifact and the pulse of power lessened.
“So now what happens to it?”
He lowered his voice. “Well, according to the terms of our agreement with the Geneshans, we’ll bury the thing a hundred feet below ground and never think of it again.”
Something about his tone didn’t sit right with me. “That’s not what’s going to happen, is it?”
He drained the last of his wine and poured another glass. “No. Orders from the king said I’m to hand the artifact over to the High Mages. They’re going to bring it back to Hol to study.”
“And you don’t agree with that?”
“Of course not. I’m not saying the artifact is going to end the world, but there’s obviously something there we should leave well enough alone. But you know how the High Mages think of themselves.” He sighed. “If I didn’t think it would get me hung for treason, I’d bury the thing myself and never give it up to them.” Now, he chuckled. “That would get under their skin.”
That admission startled me. Like most, Balak hated the High Mages. They treated everyone poorly, especially soldiers, whom they called an “ugly necessity” even in public. Still, I had never heard him consider going against king’s orders to defy them. Whatever he had seen or heard from the Geneshans must have convinced him they weren’t lying.
He drained another cup. “Anyway, let’s get off this sorcery nonsense. That’s not why I wanted to see you.”
“Sir?�
�
“You did good, Sergeant.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You’ve been a big asset to me since the war began. Even with the treaty signed, we still have a lot of clean-up. We need to make sure the Geneshan army disbands their southern forces along our border. I was thinking of promoting you to captain to help with the process. We’ve got a busy year ahead of us.”
A year? I’m not sure if it was because I still felt the effects of the concussion or not, but my stomach lurched and the room spun. I hadn’t expected the entire army to pack up and go home, but I also knew that not everyone would be needed to wrap things up. Rumors were already circulating that a very small group of people, important figures in the victory, would be discharged over the coming days. The king felt that patriotism and goodwill would be strengthened by the heroes returning home first. I had hoped that my unit would be among that first group to leave.
“Sergeant? Do I need to call for a healer?”
I shook my head, breathing slowly. “No, sir. I’m all right. It’s just . . .” I paused, knowing I needed to be careful how I phrased things. Balak was in a good mood, but his mood soured quicker than milk left out in the sun.
“It’s just what?” he asked, the slightest edge coming to his voice.
“My family, sir. I—“
“Yes, your family.” He cut me off, spitting the word out like a swear. “Gods be cursed, Tyrus. After all this time, I thought you had hardened up. You’re telling me you’d rather go home to a bunch of strangers? At this point that’s what they’ll be.”
Strangers? The word struck me. I had already prepared myself for things being different at first upon my return. A period of getting used to each other again, sure. But to say my family would be strangers? I couldn’t believe that.
“Yes, sir. I’d like to go home more than anything else if it’s all the same to you.”
“Well, it’s not,” he snapped, glaring at me beneath those caterpillar eyebrows. “You know, with the war over the king might be interested in looking east to Noval. He has the war machine already created. Why not take advantage of it? It could mean big things for people like us.”
“That sort of thing doesn’t really appeal to me.”
He swore, picked up a piece of paper on the table, and threw it at me. It bore the king’s seal.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“It’s what you want. Release papers for your entire unit for playing a significant role in our victory. The king sent them through one of the High Mage’s transfer portals shortly after terms with Genesha were signed.”
“Then why did you ask me to stay on?”
He shrugged. “I thought I could count on you.”
I balled my hands into fists, trying to control my anger. If I hadn’t mentioned my family, I wondered if he would have even given me the king’s orders. “I guess there’s no need for you to count on me anymore now.”
He looked at the papers in my hand. “I guess not. You’re no longer any use to me, Tyrus. Dismissed.”
Balak poured another cup of wine. My mouth hung open at his attitude. Hamath always said Balak took me for granted. I knew he did on some level, but the callousness in the way he treated me after almost a decade of service staggered me. In a matter of minutes, he went from treating me with respect to acting as though I was no better than a dog.
I left when Balak turned back to his reports, hopeful I’d never see the man again.
* * *
My anger waned as I walked back to my unit’s section of camp. The general could say what he wanted, but he didn’t really know me and he sure didn’t know my Lasha. I knew it would take work to rekindle the relationship with my wife and develop a bond with my kids, Myra and Zadok, again. However, it would all work out. Of that I had no doubt.
The remaining members of my unit sat around a crackling fire when I arrived. Though everyone had taken their turn with a healer and looked better for it, the moods were somber, a stark contrast to the rest of the army. Though I knew part of it related to losing more than half our brothers, I could tell that something else was going on.
“What is it?” I asked.
Ira spat a wad of phlegm into the flames, sizzling against a half burnt log. “Third unit came over and broke the news to us.”
“What news is that?”
“That despite all we’ve been through, we’re sticking around after all. Balak’s orders. Apparently they need us for the transition after the war.”
“Did they have orders?”
“Yep. Even showed us the slip of paper,” said Hamath, rubbing at the space where his pinky finger had once been.
“Did that paper happen to have our names on it?”
They exchanged looks.
“No,” said Ira. “But then again, it didn’t have anyone’s names on it. Just said all elite units would—”
I pulled out Balak’s orders and cleared my throat. “I got this paper here, signed by the king himself. We’ve been given our releases from the army in light of our effort and dedication in the Geneshan war.”
A collective sigh ran through the group.
“What about the other units?” asked Dekar. “Lots of men besides us contributed.”
“They did and I’m sure they’ll get their release eventually.” Though I wasn’t so certain about that anymore after hearing Balak’s ambitions and his talk of Noval. Honestly, a small part of me wasn’t all that interested in what other units would be doing in the months and years to come. “For now, we’re going home.”
Ira jumped up, hollering with excitement, nearly tripping into the fire. Hamath got up with him, and the two danced like idiots. Dekar just watched with a slight smile, unable to stand because of his recovering leg injury. His concern about the others who would have to stay on seemed to fade as the reality of the situation took hold of him.
Ava alone sat expressionless. She threw a stick into the fire she had been fidgeting with and rose to her feet. She brushed by everyone in a hurry.
“Ava? Where are you—”
Hamath grabbed me by the arm. “Let her be. You know she ain’t happy unless she’s got a reason to be upset.” He shoved a drink into my hand. “C’mon, let’s celebrate.”
Ava disappeared behind a supply wagon filled with sacks of flour.
I looked back to Hamath. “All right. Just one. Then I’ll go talk to her.”
* * *
One drink turned into two. Two to three. And so on. I managed to get hold of myself after five. All that drinking did nothing to speed along the healing of a head injury. It also didn’t help that I had never been able to hold my liquor well.
I snuck away before Hamath handed me another drink so I could look for Ava. I took it slow getting through camp, unable to tell if the alcohol or the concussion was the cause for my unsteadiness.
Ava leaned against a small fence that enclosed the cavalry horses. She had a leg propped up on the fence while petting one of the creatures.
Since our childhood, Ava gravitated toward horses when she needed time to think, relax, or just to be alone. I never understood it. She hated riding the animals, and the feeling toward her was mutual. She broke an arm once when one of the beasts threw her from its back. Face-to-face however, it seemed neither could get enough of the other.
The horse she petted moved away as I approached, turning its nose up at me for intruding. Unlike my sister, my relationship with the animals was strictly business.
“Took you long enough to come after me,” she said without facing me.
I leaned on the fence next to her. “Thought I’d give you some time to think.”
“Don’t lie to me. I can smell the ale on you, big brother.”
I snorted. “All right. You got me. So, I guess you’re worried about what’s going to happen with you and the High Mages? I was thinking we could go see them together. Just let me do the talking and make sure you look ashamed of yourself. You don’t even have to mean it.”
“Why not? No High Mage can intimidate me as much as the old man’s stare used to.”
She laughed. “That’s true. But that’s not going to be necessary.”
I cocked my head.
“I spoke to them already. Apologized for what happened with the recruit and everything. They actually seemed to think I meant it.”
I started. “Seriously? You apologized?”
“It was the only way that I knew they would listen to what I had to say.”
“Oh?”
She faced me wearing a nervous expression. Though she was a woman grown, right then she reminded me of the little girl I used to play in the mud with.
“I asked for them to take me on as an apprentice.” She paused, thin lips pressed together as she let her words sink in. “They accepted me much quicker than I thought they would. I’m honestly not sure if I even needed to apologize first. I wish I would have known that because I wouldn’t have bothered with it. They heard all the details about how we killed the Geneshan Master Sorcerer. Apparently, they couldn’t ignore my talents any longer, regardless of my pissy attitude. Their words, not mine. I leave with them tomorrow for Hol.”
Hol, Turine’s capital, where both the king and the Council of High Mages reside, held a quarter of the nation’s population. It had been a dream of ours as kids to visit the place one day. I don’t think either of us had ever expected to really make it there.
“What about home? Didn’t you hear what I said? We can leave.”
“I’m not deaf.”
“I don’t understand. We’ve been talking about returning to Denu Creek nearly every day since we were forced into the army.”
She shook her head. “No. You talked about going home. I just listened. Personally, I’d rather this war go on for another ten years if it meant I didn’t have to go back.”
I blinked. “I can’t believe I just heard that.”
“Seriously? Ignore the alcohol and clear your head, big brother. The memories of our youth aren’t exactly fond ones. At least not the ones outside of our family. How many times did I get picked on? How many times did you get into fights trying to protect me? Gods, even after my talent manifested, it didn’t get any better. Sure, no one hit me or made fun of me to my face, but I still saw the looks cast my way. I noticed how the girls excluded me from their little get togethers while the boys acted like I was some kind of freak. I don’t want to return to that. And despite Ma and Pa saying it would get better when we all got older, it never did.”
Forgotten Soldiers (Book 1) Page 5
