Wayward Soldiers

by Joshua P. Simon

  I managed to keep pace with Dekar’s lead wagon on foot thanks to half a pot of coffee. Doing so allowed me to distance myself from those struggling emotionally with their decision to leave. The sobs began just outside of town.

  Nason walked next to me, his mouth a tight frown.

  “You going to be all right?” I asked as the town disappeared behind us.

  “Leaving the tannery might be the one bright spot about all this.”

  “You’ll smell better.”

  He chuckled genuinely, which was nice to hear given his wife’s death. “You know, she never cared about the smell.” He didn’t have to specify who she was. “Said it gave me character.” Nason looked over his shoulder. “Maybe I’ll miss it a little after all.”

  We headed up the road. Along the way, two things had an impact on me I wasn’t expecting.

  The first was the small cluster of oak trees at the curve in the road not far from my old homestead. The place had always brought a sense of unease, as I felt it ideal for robbers to hide within. The dread returned, but only for a moment. The trees were no longer there.

  Intertwining, thick branches used to hang over the road. But the trees had fallen into a gaping hole some fifty feet in diameter. The edge of the hole came dangerously close to the road. Bark, sticks, acorns, and leaves decorated the edge of the opening. Daring a glance down into the abyss, I saw nothing but darkness and the faint puffing of sulfuric-smelling smoke.

  We took our time getting around the wound in the earth. No one wanted to see firsthand how deep the old oaks had gone.

  The second thing that had an impact on me was the land and house I once owned. I didn’t recognize either.

  Half the old barn at the back of the property had descended into another crater. A crack in the earth traveled from the crater to the fallen remains of what had been the house my grandfather built. Lava had recently bubbled out of the fissure, spreading and cooling into black, steaming rock that ruined the fields.

  There’d be no planting crops there again.

  I thought of the couple that had moved into my old place. Only then did I realize that I hadn’t come across them in town, nor had anyone ever mentioned their names. That should have dawned on me sooner, but my mind had been elsewhere.

  That did nothing for my mood. Their being on my land had saved not only my life, but those of my kids. We could have died there.

  That wasn’t an easy thing to swallow.

  “I’m sorry, Pa.”

  I looked up at the sound of Zadok’s sad voice. At some point, I couldn’t say when, I had come to a halt at the edge of the road, just across from the pile of splinters that had once been my home. Dekar pulled reins on the wagon, stopping just ahead of me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this after you and Myra got back from helping people out here after the first eruption?” I asked, feeling betrayed.

  Zadok’s face contorted as he tried to keep his emotions neutral. “Myra thought it best not to burden you with the news.”

  I glanced back to Myra who refused to look at me or the remains of our home. I addressed her. “Why?”

  “You had enough to deal with. Learning about Ma and worrying about Aunt Ava was wearing on you. I didn’t want the news of this to put you over the edge and affect your decision-making.” She swung her gaze over. “Can we go now? We’re wasting time.”

  Though she wouldn’t admit it, I could see the damage to our old home bothered Myra as much as it did me.

  I pulled out a small leather pouch I kept in my pocket and went a few steps onto what was once my land. The pouch held the few meager coins I still had to my name. Opening the binds, I reached down and grabbed a handful of dirt. I let the soil slowly roll through my fingers and into the pouch.

  I gave Dekar the signal to move out. Zadok and Myra rode away. Thankfully, no one else in our group said anything about stopping.

  Ava gestured to the pouch as I walked back to the road. She wore an inquisitive look.

  “Too many good memories here to leave it all behind.”

  I squeezed the pouch and placed it back inside my pocket.

  She threw an arm over my shoulder as we joined the wagon train together.

  CHAPTER 12

  The best thing about the rest of the day was that nothing happened, which was fine by me. I was long overdue for an uneventful period.

  Although there wasn’t much to do but walk, ride, or shuffle down the road, there was still plenty to see as we took in the changes of the countryside.

  Very little green remained. Brown and rust-colored plants, dead and rotting animals, all decorated a dry landscape that was pockmarked with holes and jagged fissures, illuminated by the strange, new, orange sunlight.

  Though we had filled up on water before leaving, staring out at the harsh land had me concerned about how easy it would be to find more. Would wells still be drinkable? Would lakes and rivers still exist? I hated heading off into the unknown with so many crucial, unanswered questions, but I saw no other reasonable option.

  I’d like to say we kept a brutal pace, but truthfully our speed was downright embarrassing. I had to keep reminding myself that we were with a slew of people unaccustomed to traveling. Factor in everyone’s fatigue and it didn’t surprise me that we hadn’t even reached Tamra, Dekar and Ira’s hometown, before making camp that night.

  Camp was eerily silent. After dinner, most people, including the children, found places near the fire or in the crook of someone’s arm to lay their heads and go to sleep.

  I knew that sleep was exactly what I needed as well. I could feel its pull with every movement. The only part of my body that didn’t hurt was my hair. However, sleep would not come. Sitting with a full belly on a quiet night awakened many of my thoughts, concerns, and regrets. Flashes of past battles came to mind. My heart raced as I watched squad mates under my command die all over again. My chest tightened and I squeezed my eyes shut while pushing those images aside. The blasted things haunted me enough while I slept, I didn’t need them dominating my waking thoughts as well.

  Perhaps Myra had been right to let me come upon the truth about what had happened to our old home myself. Learning about it sooner would have only given me one more negative to dwell on, when I scarcely had the mental capacity to do so.

  Glimpses of my childhood came to me while I fondled the old leather pouch that held my meager fortune and a handful of earth three generations of my family once owned. A pang of sadness hit me when I considered how that succession ended.

  Poor decisions by my Uncle Uriah had forced my wife to make choices no woman should ever have to make. But as much as I wanted to blame my uncle for some of my problems, I kept coming back to my commission to join the army. Without the war, I’d be sitting at our old table in the kitchen near the fire, likely whittling a piece of wood as my Pa used to do to pass the time. Lasha would be sitting across from me, probably stitching up a shirt or two. The kids would be tucked away in bed.

  A simple life.

  I never wanted something so boring and unimaginative as badly as I currently did. If only the Molak-be-damned war had never begun. . . .

  “Are you busy?”

  I started, nearly dropping my pouch.

  Looking up, Myra stood several paces away. Under her arm, she carried the set of crests Dekar managed to save from Denu Creek, one of the few non-essential items we took with us.

  “No. Just thinking.”

  “Are you up for a game?” she asked, gesturing to the case in her arm.

  “Absolutely,” I lied.

  I wasn’t a huge fan of the game, but I wasn’t about to pass up the chance to bond with my daughter.

  She sat, and without speaking, undid the clasps of the case and unfolded the board. Each individual game came with its own painted map of a different imaginary world. It added to the experience of playing since the owner of the map held a bit of an advantage.

  The board was well cared for. Unlike most boards I had se
en, I could still distinguish the various terrains and borders of the made-up countries, cities, and other landmarks. Small holes littered the map. Players used them to position their game pieces, advancing, retreating, or flanking as the game progressed.

  She began counting out the various military units and other pieces of warfare each player would have at their disposal. It was the first time I didn’t recall using the game’s dice to determine who got what assets. Apparently, a full set allowed for everyone to start off on even footing. No wonder Dekar made sure to bring the game along.

  We each set up our side of the board to our own liking, hiding the identity of half the pieces as the rules allowed. Dekar often let me see all of his as a way to entice me to play with him and add a layer of difficulty on his end. Not that it mattered. I still lost to him every time.

  She handed me the dice. “You can go first.”

  “Usually we roll to see who has the highest number.”

  “I know.”

  Ah, pity. Some might have felt offended, but remembering that Dekar had said she was a natural, I thought I should take any advantage I could get.

  I took the dice and rolled a two. Things were not starting off well. I used the safe approach and moved my scout two places, aiming for one of the pieces she had kept secret in an effort to learn its value.

  “Dekar must have told you how awful I am at this game.”

  “He did.”

  “And you wanted to play me anyway?”

  “I thought he might be exaggerating. Besides, watch changed and Dekar took Ira’s place. Everyone else is asleep, but I’m not tired. I saw you were awake and thought it might be a good way to pass the time.”

  Watch had changed already? My thoughts really were weighing on me.

  Myra rolled a four, moving up her own scout, two units of infantry, and a unit of cavalry which she used to start flanking my forces. Probably a feint, hoping I’d bite, but since this was the first time I was playing her, I couldn’t be sure.

  “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” I asked.

  “As far back as I can remember.”

  “Must have gotten that from my side of the family.”

  She said nothing to that, taking her turn again after another safe move on my part, bringing up a unit of longbowmen with knights protecting them on either side.

  We took a few more turns in relative silence. Then I made a really boneheaded move and she captured half my elephant units and a third of my sappers.

  “Dekar wasn’t lying. You are awful at this game.”

  “I’m not that bad. You have to remember, Dekar is by far the best I’ve ever seen play crests. Obviously, you have the same knack for it as him. Believe it or not, I usually win a third of my matches against everyone else.”

  “That’s still not a very good winning percentage.”

  I grunted, moved up a unit of light cavalry, and fell right into her trap of heavy knights and ballista.

  I opened my mouth to swear and caught myself, not wanting to get too free with the language in front of my daughter.

  She shook her head while studying the board. “Dekar said you were hands down the best strategist he’s ever met. So much so that General Balak used to come to you for advice.”

  I felt a little embarrassed. “There’s some truth to that.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t play you in crests before the raiders attacked.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah,” she said, causally taking out my entire left flank. “I wouldn’t have had any confidence in your plan.”

  I smiled, seeing her point.

  “I mean, from what he told me, you break most of the strategic principles of war crests helps teach. Yet, you were his unit leader, and Dekar wasn’t even your second.”

  I ignored the small jibe and focused on my turn. Maybe I could at least whittle down her forces so that her victory didn’t seem so absolute. After a minute, I brought up two divisions of infantry supported by my last unit of cavalry and a reserve of crossbowmen. I managed to make a good dent in her front lines but three turns later, she easily engulfed my forces.

  Myra began setting up the pieces again before I could even ask if she wanted to play another match. The way she beat me was embarrassing, but I’d gladly sit through a hundred games if it kept her near me.

  I revisited her last comment. “Did you make that point about the chain of command in my unit to him?”

  “Yeah. He said that if he’d been in charge, your unit would have been wiped out years ago.”

  “He’s being too hard on himself. Dekar has often led smaller squads for me just fine. And the man probably has the sharpest mind of anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “Then why wasn’t he at least your second?”

  “This might sound harsh, but the one attribute all great commanders have is the one Dekar’s never quite been able to master, and that’s the human element. Hamath had a good knack for that which was why I made him my second. The leader of those raiders must have had a similar ability. You don’t keep that many people together without some understanding of those around you.”

  “I’m not sure I understand your point.”

  I gestured to the board. “Crests is a great game for teaching the fundamentals of battle. However, the stringent rules it enforces stifles creativity. Yes, you can move your pieces, but only so many at a time, and only in a certain way. Yes, you can take advantage of the terrain, but only in a general sense. You don’t have information about the types of trees in the forest, the condition of the roads, the weather or any of that stuff. Those are all things that affect a soldier. And let’s not even talk about the morale in each unit. Are they confident from past victories? Scared because of a recent defeat? All those things are crucial when developing strategy. In battle, you aren’t trying to defeat three divisions of infantry, two cavalry units, and so on. You’re trying to beat men and women. Not pieces on a game board.”

  She tilted her head, looking genuinely interested. “How do you develop creativity?”

  “By paying attention to people. By seeing patterns. Putting yourself in the shoes of your opponent, then thinking how you would act in a situation.”

  “That’s what you did when you had Ira use the dead bodies on the road into town? You thought about how you would react in their situation given their easy victories beforehand.”

  “Exactly.”

  “That was still a big risk. If it didn’t work, Ira and those with him would have wasted a lot of time that could have been better spent elsewhere.”

  “True. But the way I look at it, three things could have happened. One, the raiders could have ridden up, seen what we did, thought the place was cursed and ridden off. That was the ideal situation, but one I thought the least likely. Two, the raiders could have reacted as they did, with some deciding to leave and the rest choosing to go on. I figured that the most likely scenario since there are always cowards and blowhards in every group. Then the third option was that none of the group split away, and all the raiders attacked.”

  She jabbed her finger, pointing as though she had me. “And that’s when the work would have been for nothing.”

  “No. Remember what I said. Put yourself in their shoes. How many people would have thought to do what I did? Did it cross your mind?”

  Her brows furrowed. “No.”

  I snorted. “It takes a special kind of person to come up with something as crazy as that and carry it out as well as Ira managed. To be honest, it’s not normal. Those raiders that went through with the attack knew that, which is why they entered town slowly. They knew Denu Creek would be different than anywhere else. Fear tickled the backs of their minds. It had them wondering what else we had in store for them. All of that affects a person’s ability to fight. So, even in a worst case scenario, getting inside your opponent’s head and shaking their confidence might be enough to gain the advantage in battle.” I motioned my hand over the board of crests. “That sort of thing doesn’t show
up here.”

  She stared at the board, looking confused. “What else?”

  “A lot of things.” I had to admit that each of her questions lifted my mood. Though I never thought I’d bond with my daughter over military tactics, I wasn’t one not to take advantage of a situation. “For example, it’s also important to understand what the men under your own command are capable of. You can have the most creative, ironclad strategy in your head, but it’s worthless if you can’t carry it out. Rarely do things ever work out exactly as you plan them. You can talk scenarios until you’re blue in the face, but something always comes up during battle that you’d never expected. You have to react and trust those you command to react as well. Like when the leader of the raiders ordered those riders around to scout.

  “Ira had no way to see my signal with the flags and still react in time. That’s why I used a crow call to warn him of trouble. I trusted him to take care of the problem. Without people like Ira, Dekar, and Ava, every part of my plan would have probably fallen apart. Just as things would have been more difficult without Sivan’s scouting skills. Once I learned of his ability, I took advantage of it to the fullest.”

  Her shoulders slumped a little. “This is all much different than crests.”

  “It is. And there’s still one more thing about commanding men that few people ever admit to.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Luck. That part is actually captured in crests with each roll of the dice. You can plan until you’re blue in the face, but you can never get rid of luck completely. That’s why it helps to have back up plans and the ability to change them quickly.”

  Myra stared at the board, fiddling with a game piece that marked her general.

  “Sorry if I got a bit long-winded there.”

  She grunted. “That’s all right. It was actually really interesting.”

  “Good. Did you want to play another match?”

  “No,” she said, starting to pick up the game pieces. “I think I’m ready to get some sleep.”

  “Oh.” That was sudden. I tried to hide my disappointment, not wanting to appear too needy for her attention.