CHAPTER 8
Over the next week, Kehat went his own way and we continued to shun any large communities we passed. That practice changed as we reached several smaller towns that were the final destination for several in our group.
To ensure the safety of those we dropped off, Nehab sent half a dozen men into town as an escort. He didn’t want to send in anymore, so that the locals weren’t threatened by us. The six men selected as escorts were never the same, rotating men out here and there so everyone at least got a brief taste of civilization.
Reports from those who returned to the group were mixed. Some were surprised to see soldiers returning, and asked questions about the war in a more curious than accusatory manner. However, many locals cast sour looks, even crossing the streets to avoid contact. Still, no one tried to raise arms against us like in Damanhur so we at least had that going in our favor.
Since the hostilities seemed minimal, every soldier we dropped off chose to remain in their home town, just as I expected they would.
Several men who returned after one particular trip into a passing town tried to look at the positive, explaining the looks and behavior of the people as just being cautious of strangers. The pessimists of our group felt it proved that many in the world no longer wanted us.
I hadn’t decided which side of the argument I fell.
After another night of debating the same thing, Dekar changed subjects. “Hamath, don’t you live somewhere around here?”
He threw a stick he had been fidgeting with into the fire. “Yep. We should make it there in a few days.”
“You don’t sound excited,” Dekar said.
Hamath shrugged. “Not especially.”
“What about Bilhah?” I asked. “You aren’t happy to see her again?”
He snorted. “She got married years ago.”
I blinked. “What? You never told me that. When did you find that out?”
“It was in that last batch of letters we all received before the army quit delivering messages.”
Shortly after Wadlow Hill, Balak had called for all outside communications to cease. Things were bleak then, and he was worried about our dwindling resources. He didn’t want to deplete them further by ferrying personal messages back and forth across country.
“Why haven’t you said anything before now?”
He threw another stick in the fire. “Because I knew how much it meant for you to talk about your family. I didn’t want to make you feel guilty about it just because I no longer had anyone waiting for me.”
“That’s a heck of a thing she did to you,” said Ira.
Hamath shrugged again. “She waited more than five years. That’s more than I thought she would considering we were only betrothed.”
“You gonna kill the guy she married?” asked Ira.
“Xank, no.”
“A beating at least? He took your woman,” Ira pushed.
Hamath shook his head. “She always wanted kids, and she was tired of waiting. I can’t fault her for that. Lavi be cursed, I was never sure if I even wanted kids.”
“Still, I know I couldn’t let someone get away with that. I’d have to at least—”
Dekar cut his brother off in a low voice. “Let it go.”
Ira clamped his jaw shut while the rest of us stared at the dancing flames. I spared a quick glance at Dekar and saw the worry lining his face, most likely thinking of the wife waiting for him.
We were all more apt to dwell on the possibility that there wouldn’t be much good waiting for us on our return. It was one thing not to have a job, or friends. But to lose your family, your woman . . .
My chest clenched for any man who had to go through that.
* * *
We set out late the next morning. Despite the desire to get home, Nehab demanded we all take a few extra hours of rest. No one argued. We had been pushing hard and it showed.
I sat at the back of the trailing wagon, legs over the side, listening to the clattering wheels as we rolled along. Staring at the beaten road, my mind wandered in a hundred directions—thinking of my stint in the army, the men I lost under my command, and what Ava was learning in Hol. I wondered what those idiot High Mages were doing with the Geneshan artifact. Maybe they had wised up and buried the thing as our enemies had said to do. That would be the day.
Most of my thoughts went back to Denu Creek. How much would it have changed in the last ten years? Would I recognize any of it? Would anyone recognize me?
The conversation from the night before got me thinking about how Lasha would greet my arrival. She wouldn’t have found someone else. I doubted that would happen even if she thought me dead. We had talked about that scenario the night before I left home. I had been adamant she find another man to marry.
“Fine, Tyrus. I’ll try. I’ll try to find someone who makes my legs weak with just the slightest of looks, who makes my heart race with the barest of whispers. I’ll try to find someone who treats me better than I have any right ever to be treated and loves his kids like no man I’ve ever met, including my own father. However, I have a feeling that no one will ever live up to the standard you’ve set. But, if it will ease that worrisome mind of yours, I promise to do my best if you don’t make it back.”
That was all a moot point. I wasn’t dead, and she knew that. Before Balak cut off communications with the outside world, he allowed all soldiers to write one more letter home stating that another letter would only come to announce our death. Until then, our family had no reason to believe we were dead.
No, what I worried about was how we’d act together after so much time apart. I knew her letters said she loved me, but saying something and acting the same way were two different things. Would the fire between us burn immediately, just as it had before? Or would it need to be rekindled, stoked over time, until it ended up greater than it had ever been? I guessed it didn’t really matter how things fell into place as long as they eventually did. And with everything I knew about my wife, I had to believe they would.
The kids though . . .
The wagon rolled over a rough patch of dry road, sending dust into the air. A violent coughing attack seized me, jarring me from thoughts I probably shouldn’t have been dwelling on anyway. I reached for my canteen, took a swig, and swallowed. The water was warm, but satisfying. I blinked away the tears in my eyes from coughing and nodded at Captain Nehab as he approached.
“Captain, what are you doing back here?”
“Looking to have a word with you in private, Sergeant. You mind hopping off and walking a bit?”
“No, sir. I could probably use the time to stretch my legs out anyway.”
That wasn’t entirely true. I still had quite a bit more time on the wagon before I’d have to trade spots with someone walking. We rotated spots in order to be fair. However, since several still nursed injuries, those who had healed up took longer shifts walking than others.
We drifted to the rear of the wagons until well out of earshot.
“You know our next stopping point, Sergeant?”
“No, sir.”
“Treetown. Ever heard of it?”
“Can’t say that I have. Pretty dumb name though.”
“I’m from there.”
I winced. “Sorry, sir.”
“Don’t be. It is a dumb name. The town is very small. Named after this giant white birch growing in the town square. I always thought ‘White Birch’ or something like that would have been better.”
“Definitely an improvement.”
Nehab chuckled which made me feel better.
“This must be hard on you to be so close and not be able to stop.”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about, Sergeant. I’m not going on with everyone.”
“But sir, didn’t Balak—”
“Yes, my orders are to see that everyone gets home safely. But I can’t do it. You and I are rare. We’ve been in this thing since the very beginning. I’ve got a family waiting for me just
like you. Can you honestly tell me you could pass the place you’ve thought about every day since joining the army and not stay?”
I shook my head. “Probably not.”
“Neither can I. Look, I hate to do this to you, but you’re the most senior officer left among us. You, Dekar, and Ira have the farthest to travel among everyone else. So, it only makes sense to transfer command over to you once we reach Treetown. Can you do that for me?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Sure.”
“Thank you,” said Nehab. The relief in his voice was overwhelming. “I know I don’t have to tell you this, but I’m saying it anyway. After Treetown, continue to stay away from the cities and towns you come across. I’d hate to hear you ran into trouble again.”
“I’d hate to run into it.”
“Good. Let’s catch back up to the others.”
The captain made the announcement to everyone at dinner that the next day would be his last day with us. He transferred command to me. No one objected. I wondered if anyone cared. Maybe they knew me well enough to know I’d do right by them, or maybe they didn’t have an opinion on who they took their orders from so long as someone gave them.
I laughed to myself. What was I thinking? Every soldier had an opinion on who they take orders from. I’d worry about the ones who didn’t.
* * *
Around midday we left the road, turning off onto a dirt path overrun with high grass that we all would have missed had the captain not been with us. He took point and led us into a wooded area about fifty yards off the road.
Hamath nudged me. “Are you sure about this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Us going to Treetown. Seems contradictory to what Nehab has been saying about avoiding places as a group.”
I shared Hamath’s concerns, but Nehab had a good head on his shoulders so I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Well, he said Treetown is so isolated that most people have a tendency to forget about the place. It’s a good chance they don’t share the opinion we keep running into.”
Looking around at the trees closing in on top of us, I understood the captain’s surety of his town’s remoteness.
“But if they do?”
“Well, you heard the captain last night when he was describing the place. They aren’t going to have enough people to attack a group our size even if they don’t want us there.”
He grunted. “Let’s hope they haven’t had a recent population surge then.”
A half mile later, we came out on the other side of the woods. Seventy yards from the forest’s edge stood the smallest settlement I had ever seen. Farmland stood to either side of eight round hovels congregating in a circle around a massive white birch. Seeing the tree lord over the little community made me wonder if one of the lesser gods occupied the thing. It had that sort of aura about it.
A few residents noticed our arrival and gathered on the edge of town. They held tools of trade like weapons where everyone could see—shovels, hoes, and pickaxes. That didn’t bode well, even if I could understand their concern upon seeing several dozen soldiers rolling into their tiny town. I could almost sense Hamath ready to utter an “I told you so.”
“Halt!” Nehab called. He dismounted the wagon as it rolled to a stop, unbuckled the sword at his side and made a show of dropping it in the dirt. “Stay here until I say otherwise,” he added over his shoulder.
He walked alone, hands out at his sides. Additional people from the town materialized next to the original group. More people lived there than I had thought.
A woman screamed out and burst through the group. She sprinted toward the captain, brown dress flowing behind her. Nehab abandoned his calm approach and took off toward her. They met in a loving embrace with the captain raising her off the ground.
A lump formed in my throat as I thought about Lasha again.
The townspeople relaxed as recognition set in. They hurried out to the couple, white teeth showing in wide smiles. Nehab shook hands and hugged several others all while keeping one arm firmly wrapped around his wife’s waist.
After a minute, he waved us over.
“Well, one less thing to worry about at least,” I said.
Hamath responded with a grunt.
* * *
Treetown ended up being the opposite of Damanhur in more than just appearance. People shook our hands, thanked us for our service, and even made small talk about the weather. The only time I ever saw a smile leave their faces was when Nehab gave a very brief summary of the events in Damanhur. They offered condolences and said prayers for the dead. It was the reception we had hoped for from the beginning.
An elderly man, tall, wiry, and bent over a cane made a suggestion all could get on board with. A celebration.
I’ve never seen people move so fast in all my life. In less than an hour, meat dripped on open spits, bread baked in nearby ovens, and corn roasted over open fires. The comforting smells made it hard to keep from drooling. Everyone alternated between eating and talking. Someone rolled out a couple kegs of ale shortly thereafter and things really got going. With each mug of the warm, satisfying drink voices grew louder until all it seemed I could hear was laughter.
The mood had become so infectious that Dekar managed to talk Hamath into a match of Crests, a strategy game that I was barely serviceable at. Dekar had never lost, even winning a tournament the army put together two winters ago when we couldn’t do much else but sit around on account of a blizzard. Since then, he nearly had to pay people to play him.
The elderly man pulled out a fiddle while a woman I assumed was his wife began singing songs I hadn’t heard since my parents were alive. None of that religious garbage either. These were about the sun, the rain, family and friends—finding joy in the simple things of life.
I sat beneath the white birch with eyes closed, listening to the upbeat tempo and recalling fond memories of my youth. A small sigh escaped my lips, wishing Ava had come along to see this.
“Everything all right, Tyrus?”
I opened my eyes at the captain’s voice, watching him as he approached. “Yes, sir. I was just thinking how much this place reminded me of home. Well, a better version of home actually.”
“I hope it’s even better than how you remember it when you get there.”
“Me too, captain.”
“You can cut the ‘captain’ and ‘sir’ out now. I’m officially a commoner again. Nehab works fine by me.”
I nodded and gestured to a line of people, townsfolk and soldiers alike, dancing. “I’m glad you invited us to stay for the night. Not even that priest of Molak mustered this much genuine happiness from them.”
He smiled. “I thought they might need it.” He pointed and chuckled. “The way some of them are acting, it makes me realize how little I know them.”
I followed his hand. Ira danced in a circle with a group of kids ranging between the ages of two and seven. After a few moments he purposefully took an exaggerated tumble and they piled on top of him laughing.
I grinned. “Yeah, most people wouldn’t expect it but Ira’s always had a soft spot for kids. Don’t tell him I told you, but he used to sneak food all the time to give to the younger ones attached to the army. Most of my unit knew about it, but none of us ever said anything to him. We figured if he wanted to keep it to himself, then so be it.”
I looked up as the leaves rustled in the wind. “By the way, you were right about the name of this place. Treetown just doesn’t do it justice.”
Nehab rubbed his hand across the white bark, eyes traveling up and down the thick trunk. “The gods know I’ve tried to sway everyone’s mind, but people here just don’t seem to like change.”
“Considering this is the best place we’ve come upon in a long time, the people here might be on to something. Who would want to change this?”
Nehab smiled at his wife as she walked toward us. Her grin was just as wide. “Not me, Tyrus. Not me.”
By the gods,
I missed my wife.
CHAPTER 9
With the group now my responsibility, I no longer brought up the rear as had become my habit, but rather rode in one of the lead wagons. I kept the pace steady, just as Nehab had, still concerned about the health of those who had suffered injuries.
The countryside looked less ravaged by war the farther away from Genesha we journeyed. Fighting hadn’t touched these areas in years, most places not at all.
Lush trees danced in the summer breeze. For once, the wind carried scents that in no way reminded me of life in the army. No animal excrement from overcrowded pens, no urine from flooded out latrines, no sickness hovering over the infirmary. Finally those were nothing more than sour memories. Clean air, fresh grass, and lavender filled my nose instead.
Three days and one stop after leaving Treetown, we reached the top of a low hill. Over the pecan trees standing behind an old wooden fence, we saw the outline of a distant town. Smoke from one of the buildings rose over the trees.
Hamath let out a sigh. “There she is. Home sweet home.” He snorted, scratching at his red side burns. “I wonder if old Aviad is the one still stoking that forge.” A distant tone took to his voice. “I remember hanging around his place for hours as a kid.”
“You wanted to be a smith?” I asked.
“Nah, I had no interest. I still picked up a few things anyway. It was hard not to.” He chuckled. “My ma always wanted me to be a tanner. Gods, could you imagine that smell?” He shrugged. “No, I hung around the forge so much because I liked listening to Aviad pound away with that hammer of his. You know, I think that helped me become a better scout. I got to where I could figure out how and where each blow struck without ever opening my eyes. It got to be a game for us.”
“I’m sure if that’s him, he’ll be glad to see you then,” I offered.
Hamath stood in his seat. “Stop here.”
“Huh?”
“Just do it.”
Confused, I gave the command to the driver. He pulled on the reins and our wagon creaked to a halt. Those behind us followed.
Forgotten Soldiers Page 10
