Jonathan Haymaker

by Sam Ferguson

  “Oh, and who was that?” Lord Bingham replied with a half-smile as he folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.

  “My brother, Jason Haymaker,” Jonathan said confidently. “He and I tied for first until he split my arrow. There is no other here who can beat me.”

  Lord Bingham’s smile disappeared and he looked to the man at his left.

  By that time, Pa pushed his way through the crowd and placed a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “Forgive him, Lord Bingham, he is anxious to rejoin his brother,” Pa apologized.

  Lord Bingham waved it off and shook his head. “It’s alright, Master Haymaker,” Lord Bingham told Pa. He leaned forward then and looked into Jonathan’s eyes. “I am sorry to tell you, but even if I took you today, you would not rejoin your brother.”

  Jonathan scrunched up his face. “Why not? I am almost as good as he is.”

  Lord Bingham shook his head. “It isn’t that, it’s the fact that you would be sent to Fort Sym.”

  “Where is Jason?” Pa asked as he leaned down toward the table. “I was assured he would be going to Fort Sym as well.”

  Lord Bingham sighed and motioned to his soldiers.

  “Alright, that’s enough. Break it up and move along,” one of the soldiers said.

  “We have a long line of recruits and we need to be on the road by morning,” a second added.

  Pa slammed a shaking fist on the table and yelled, “No!”

  One of the soldiers was quick to skirt around the table. The crowd split, making way for the soldier to get to Jonathan’s grandfather. Jonathan’s breath caught in his throat. He had never seen Pa look so angry and determined. His loving Pa’s eyes turned cold and he squared off against the approaching soldier. Pa raised a bony finger and pointed at the solider.

  “I was whipping trolls in the Quags since before you were a happy thought in your father’s head, boy. You had best reconsider before tangling with the man who found The Warrens.”

  The soldier hesitated. The crowd took a collective step backward. Pa turned back to Lord Bingham and held his accusatory finger out at the nobleman.

  “I thought we had an arrangement,” Pa stated bluntly.

  Lord Bingham rose to his feet and leaned in close to Pa. He kept his voice low, but Jonathan could still hear the nobleman clearly. “It isn’t like that,” he started. “The king ordered all of last year’s recruits to the Quags. They were all transferred to Battlegrym. No one was given a different assignment. They all were trained for it, and they marched out three days ago for Battlegrym. Upon reaching it, those who are up for the task will be assigned to the Ghosts of the Quags. Others will be under Commander Kilgrave’s command. The Ghosts will scout forward, trying to trail blaze for the army, and the army itself will follow behind them in a final push to The Warrens.”

  “And then what?” Pa pressed. “What happens after they are found by the trolls? Has anyone ever made it deep enough into The Warrens to find the trolls’ nest?”

  Lord Bingham shook his head. “The Ghosts of the Quags are the best we have ever had, but they have never so much as seen where the trolls live.” Lord Bingham turned to Jonathan and shook his head. “I wish your brother all the strength of the gods, but he has been assigned to the Ghosts. If I were you, I would go ahead and light the funeral pyre now. No one comes back from there.”

  “You told me we had a deal!” Pa shouted. He launched his bony fist and punched Lord Bingham square in the nose. Pa’s left fist was only a fraction of a second behind the first. It struck Bingham on the right side of the face, opening a small gash on the man’s cheekbone.

  Three soldiers bounded over the table and tackled Pa to the ground.

  Jonathan was knocked to the ground, and someone grabbed him by the arms before he could react to what was happening. The next thing he heard was a mob of angry shouts. People closed in from both sides. Soldiers tore through the table and quickly restored order. The few villagers who had jumped in to help Jonathan and Pa were all taken to a nearby barn and seated on the floor with their hands tied behind their backs. Four armed soldiers guarded them while the rest exited the barn and the doors were closed.

  None of the arrested villagers spoke. They sat on the floor half breathing and half growling as they watched the four guards. There was no way for Jonathan to know how long they sat there. His legs went numb and the sun was darkening long before the barn doors were opened again.

  Lord Bingham strolled into the barn flanked by several soldiers. Jonathan felt his stomach twist into knots as the nobleman walked toward them. His shiny boots thumped across the floor heavily and the man’s eyes locked onto Pa. The soldiers with him kept their hands near their weapons.

  “Master Haymaker,” Lord Bingham began as he stopped directly in front of Pa. “Your actions today were foolish. You nearly caused a rebellion in Holstead, what do you have to say for yourself?”

  “Go stuff yourself,” Pa hissed.

  Jonathan’s eyes went wide. He had never heard Pa speak like that before.

  A soldier stormed in and raised a gauntleted hand, but Lord Bingham stopped him and roughly shoved him away. Lord Bingham then crouched on one knee in front of Pa. “My son is nineteen,” Lord Bingham said. “I am a noble, a man of means, and a man of authority. Yet, my son, Felix, is marching to Battlegrym as we speak.”

  “I already lost a son to the war,” Pa said with quiet anger. “Now you would take my oldest grandson as well.”

  Lord Bingham shook his head. “You must listen to me, I am telling you that even my son is being sent there. No one escaped this fate.”

  “Then why did you take the money that I gave you?” Pa snarled. “Something to fatten your pockets? Do you love your gold so much that you would worship it at your son’s funeral?”

  Lord Bingham shook his head. “The money doesn’t go to me, it never did. I only passed along the bribes, but I didn’t keep any portion of them.”

  Pa shook his head and snorted derisively.

  Lord Bingham stretched out a hand and laid it softly on Pa’s shoulder. “When the king sent out his edict, I offered everything I had to the assignment officers. I sold my home and took the money to the field commander in Lehemat. Do you know what he did?”

  Pa looked up at Lord Bingham.

  “He thanked me for my contribution to the war fund. My wife now lives with her sister in Trieste.”

  “You want me to feel sorry for you?” Pa sneered.

  Lord Bingham shook his head. “No. I want you to know that no one could get out of this. I passed along your bribe, as I did for tens of others with similar requests. They took the money and kept it, but all of the recruits are marching to Battlegrym.” Lord Bingham rose from the floor and took two steps back. “I, myself, am going to Battlegrym as well.”

  Pa’s anger and ferocity melted from his face then as he looked up to Lord Bingham.

  “If my son is going to The Warrens, then I am going too. As soon as I take the new recruits to Lehemat for their training, I am leaving for Battlegrym. I will join a secondary group that is scheduled to follow behind the Ghosts of the Quags.” Lord Bingham glanced around at the others seated on the floor. “So, hold your anger men, for the nobleman before you is already dead. I just need to catch up with the Quags, and then your justice will be delivered.” He turned and addressed a nearby soldier. “Release them all. No charges, and no threats. Just, let them go home.”

  Jonathan was the first to be released. The others had their restraints severed and then everyone was sent home with the instruction to keep silent about what they had heard and not cause any more trouble.

  Pa and Jonathan met Memaw a short ways off from the barn they had been held in. It was obvious that she, along with several other townsfolk, had been waiting there to see what would happen with those who had been arrested. She and Pa embraced. A moment later she reached out and pulled Jonathan close.

  “We’re alright, Memaw,” Jonathan said.

  Pa pushed Memaw and Jona
than away and then glanced over his shoulder at the barn. “Let’s go home. I could do with a warm meal, how about you, Jonathan?”

  Jonathan’s brow tensed and he wondered whether he should ask the question on his mind. Pa must have seen the consternation in Jonathan’s face, for he bent low and whispered into Jonathan’s ear.

  “Don’t believe everything you hear,” Pa said. “If there was anyone who could survive The Warrens, it would be Jason. He’ll come home to us, I am sure of it.”

  Jonathan nodded.

  “Everything alright?” Memaw asked.

  “Fine, right Jonathan?” Pa replied.

  Jonathan nodded again. “The postman didn’t leave a letter today,” Jonathan said.

  Memaw smiled and produced a small envelope. “Or perhaps he didn’t know where he could find you,” she corrected. “I haven’t opened it yet.”

  “Let’s read it at home,” Pa said.

  Jonathan took the letter and held it tight in his hand. The three of them returned home and ate a supper of beef stew with the previous day’s rolls. The bread was a bit hard, but Jonathan liked it that way. He broke the rolls and soaked them in the stew. Jonathan wolfed everything down, hardly stopping to drink between bites as he hurried to finish.

  “The letter will still be there, even if you eat normally,” Pa scolded.

  “Oh let him have his fun,” Memaw chimed in. “After a day like today, I imagine he could use a bit of encouragement.”

  “I would have won the golden bow,” Jonathan blurted out.

  Memaw paused and took in a half breath. Then, putting on a smile to cover her concern, she nodded her agreement. “I know you would have.”

  Pa arched a brow at Jonathan, a subtle warning not to press the matter too far. Pa was always protective of Memaw like that. Jonathan pulled the letter up, wiping the corner of his mouth on his sleeve. He opened the letter and smiled as his eyes scanned through the words.

  “You are going to read it to all of us, aren’t you?” Memaw asked.

  Jonathan nodded sheepishly. “Sorry Memaw.” He cleared his throat. “Dear Jonathan, today I am leaving Lehemat. Orders have come down from the king that we are all going to be transferred to Battlegrym. Some of the soldiers will stay in Battlegrym, but some of us will be assigned to a veteran commander named Captain Ziegler. He leads a unit called the Ghosts of the Quags. From what I understand, he is quite the warrior. Rumor has it that he has a skull tattoo on his body for every troll he has killed. They say the tattoos cover his left arm and part of his chest. I suppose we will see when we get there. They also say that we will get new names. I am not sure who picks the names, but rumor has it that no one who fights with the Ghosts keeps their old name. I should be able to write letters until we leave Battlegrym. I have already been selected to go with the Ghosts into The Warrens. One of the captains over my training unit delivered the news personally. Too bad you aren’t here, little brother. I will pretend you are with me as I slay the hideous trolls. Keep up with your chores. With any luck, you should be the winner of this year’s golden bow, so it won’t be long before I see you again. Give hugs to Grandfather and Grandmother.”

  Jonathan looked up when a spoon fell to the table. Memaw leaned over from her chair and started sobbing as Pa pulled her in tight to his chest.

  “I’m sorry,” Jonathan said. “I hadn’t read the letter privately first, I didn’t know he was going to talk about it, and then I just got so excited—”

  “It’s not your fault,” Pa said quickly.

  “You said he would be safe!” Memaw said as she pushed away. She pointed at the now boarded up holes that had once held the glass windows. “We sold our windows to keep him safe!”

  Pa nodded. “Lord Bingham said his son was sent too, and he sold his entire house.”

  “Well, he should have to go and fight in The Warrens too then!” Memaw shouted. “Lord Bingham should be right there in front!”

  Pa held Memaw’s arms and nodded. “He will be,” he said. “He told me in the barn, after I struck him today, that he will be joining them as well. He will look out for Jason.”

  Memaw shook her head and left the table. She went to her room and slammed the door.

  “Don’t worry,” Pa told Jonathan. “Jason will come back. Just keep writing to him, and show him we still support him. I’ll go in now and talk with her.” He motioned behind him with his head and then left the table.

  Jonathan nodded. The scene was so much the same as it had been a year ago, only now Jonathan was left alone at the table. There was no one for him to confide in. All he could do was write a letter and hope that the postman would continue to carry Jason’s letters to him.

  Several weeks later, Jonathan handed the postman a letter for Jason. Jonathan also got one in return. This was the letter Jonathan had been dreading since the day Lord Bingham had told them about Battlegrym. The letter was much shorter than any of the other letters. It stated only that his new name had been assigned by Captain Ziegler himself. He was now known as Boar. It was a name fitting Jason’s stubborn personality, Jonathan thought. The only other sentence was a farewell, as Jason was leaving Battlegrym early.

  A week passed without any word from Jason. Jonathan went out to the road every day, anxiously waiting for the postman, but he never saw him. A month passed, and then the winter came without any word from Jason. Jonathan still diligently wrote to his brother, hiking all the way into town on the days he knew the postman would be coming. The postman smiled the first few times, commenting that such loyalty was an honorable trait. By the time the spring thaw set in upon Holstead, the postman no longer smiled at Jonathan. Instead, he looked to the young man with sad, dull eyes. Jonathan didn’t miss the fact that the saddlebags were becoming more and more empty. Jonathan understood that less letters coming in meant more people had died.

  Still, Jonathan refused to lose hope. He continued to write letters to his brother every week. Often times he saw Memaw or Pa watching him through teary eyes as he sat at the table writing, but that didn’t stop him. He knew his brother was out there. Whatever hardship Jason was facing, Jonathan hoped that his letters would ease them.

  Finally, Jonathan walked into town for the last time. The postman rode in, with his leather overcoat flapping behind him wildly. In addition to his saddlebags with letters in them, he held a small bundle of letters tied with twine. Jonathan jogged into town as he watched the postman dismount and talk with some of the villagers. Jonathan knew that the news must be bad if the postman was willing to get off of his horse.

  Many of the villagers left with letters, but those who had sent their sons away the previous year remained behind, begging for news of their sons. The villagers were all turned away. None of them carried any letters from last year’s recruits. Those young men had all been reported dead. Still, Jonathan made haste to give the postman his letter for Jason. If anyone could survive the war, Jason could. Besides, Jonathan’s grandfather had survived. Surely Jason would be coming home.

  When the postman saw Jonathan, the man hung his head and his shoulders rose up quickly and then fell with a burdened sigh. The postman grabbed the bundle of letters and held them out toward Jonathan.

  “I never had the heart to tell you,” he said apologetically. “Jason has been reported dead for some time.”

  Jonathan stopped in his tracks and looked at the bundle of letters. He shook his head. “No, the envelopes have been opened. He read these!” Jonathan insisted.

  The postman shook his head. “I read them,” he replied. “I’m sorry. I know it was wrong, but I couldn’t bear to tell you.”

  “Why would you read the letters?” Jonathan asked. “They are for my brother.”

  “Your brother was lost in The Warrens, along with the rest of the Ghosts of the Quags. It’s over. I only came today with the news that Battlegrym has fallen. The war is all but lost now. Only those who remain at Fort Sym still live. They will hold the line, and try to build the wall between our kingdom and th
e Murkle Quags, but the monsoons are growing stronger still.” The postman pushed the bundle of letters out to Jonathan. “I read them because they made me smile. My job isn’t easy, bringing casualty reports to so many. I needed to see some hope. Your letters helped.”

  Jonathan nodded slowly, letting the words sink in. Stubbornly, he pushed his new letter out to the postman. “Deliver this to Fort Sym, then,” he instructed. “Tell them to hold it there until my brother returns.”

  The postman sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he looked up to the sky. He shook his head and then looked as though he were about to turn away.

  “Take it, please,” Jonathan said. “My brother needs to know that I have not forgotten him.”

  The postman shook his head. “Your brother no longer walks the plane of the living. You have to accept that.”

  Jonathan took in a breath of courage and frustration and stepped close enough to slap the letter into the man’s chest. “You take my letter. That’s your job. My job is to write them and support him. Your job is to take the letter to him.”

  The postman stood rigid. “If you wanted to support him, you shouldn’t have let him go. All who fight alongside the Ghosts of the Quags die, that’s the reason they are given new names, boy. The new name is to dehumanize them, to make them part of a large herd that won’t feel so sorry when some of the luckless soldiers die off. Don’t believe me? Ask yourself why your brother was named for an animal, and then you’ll see the truth of it.”

  Jonathan didn’t let the logic penetrate into his mind. Instead, he fired back, saying, “Captain Ziegler has a normal name. Obviously some of them live.”

  The postman laughed. “Ziegler is the name of every captain of the Ghosts of the Quags. Ziegler is an old Terrish word for ‘ghost.’” The postman shook his head and sighed again as he waggled the bundle in front of Jonathan. “Ziegler is the name given to a dead captain, just as all who serve under him as soldiers are given animal names. There is no merit to me carrying your letter.” The postman stepped away, dropping the bundle on the ground when he realized that Jonathan would not accept it.