Wayward Soldiers

by Joshua P. Simon

  I shook my head in disbelief. “You’d be surprised. We came across some people up north who thought as you do, but the majority wanted nothing to do with us, treated us like garbage.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “How can there be such a differing view?” I muttered.

  She shrugged. “Maybe the Byzan Wars have something to do with it.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, since that war dealt mostly with the southern borders of Turine, many of the veterans from it live in the south. Perhaps, having so many of those men as our neighbor, family, or friend is part of it. We just know better.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You’ve also been traveling southeast. Maybe getting farther away from the Geneshan border has something to do with it. The news isn’t as fresh since it had to travel longer to reach us. We’re aren’t as bitter about the ups and downs of this war.”

  “I had considered that. Still seems like there’d be something else.” I thought of Damanhur. “The hate we saw at times was downright scary.”

  I had been too preoccupied with getting home to my wife and kids, then later preoccupied with just surviving to really ever spend much time trying to figure out what had caused such a turn from the populace. I doubted I’d ever get an answer and had resigned myself to that.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “No one should have to go through that from their home country after what you likely saw in the war.”

  I hung my head. “No, they shouldn’t.”

  She touched my arm. I looked up as she smiled.

  “Thank you, again. And not just for letting me join your group, but for everything.”

  I returned the smile as some of the weight I carried lifted from my shoulders. “Thank you, too.”

  “For what?”

  “For your gratitude. I didn’t realize how much I needed it until now.”

  CHAPTER 18

  A rare breeze blew against my face, providing a light reprieve against the unusually warm weather. Unfortunately, it was the only good the wind brought with it. I hadn’t glimpsed anything more than a hint of a rain cloud since the second eruption. That meant any stirring of air, no matter how light, tossed around dust and ash with little effort. It joined right in with the storm of dirt our group kicked up with each step. If the dust didn’t get into your eyes, nose, or mouth, it stuck to damp skin. Even the brightest clothes of the women who used to work at the Soiled Dove took on a brownish-gray quality as a result.

  I kept an eye on our water usage as our supply was getting low. We hadn’t come across a source to refill our casks in several days and the last thing I wanted was someone to waste water wiping the dust from their skin.

  Thankfully, the wind kept the scent of sweaty, unbathed travelers out of my nose. There wasn’t much to do about my own smell. Soon, I’d be getting to the point where I wouldn’t be able to stand being around myself.

  I walked at my normal spot to the right of Dekar’s wagon. I spat the grit from my mouth, wondering if the negatives of the breeze outweighed the positive. Of course without a breeze, all I’d be doing is complaining about the heat. And again, the smell.

  From the time I was a boy, I’d sometimes slip into a negative mood. It was all I could focus on. Back in the day, Lasha would notice those moods before I got too deep in them. She’d tell me to forget what I was thinking about and focus on something positive.

  I’d usually reply with something like “Some days my mind doesn’t want to see the positive.”

  Then she’d step in front of me, wrap her arms around me, and kiss me like it was our wedding night. “What does your mind want to see now?” she’d ask.

  My mood never failed to improve after that.

  But I didn’t have Lasha anymore. Nor did I even have the hope of one day seeing Lasha again, which was what had carried me through a decade in the army.

  “You all right, Tyrus?”

  I looked left. Dekar stared down at me. Ava sat beside him.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You’re doing a lot of muttering.”

  “An awful lot,” Ava added.

  “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

  “About?” she asked.

  I grunted. “You probably don’t want to know.”

  Actually, she probably did. She had already gotten on me once about keeping things inside and letting them fester. That’s just who I was, who I had always been. It’s not like I never talked about personal things, but I refused to harp on them and bring them up over and over. Right or wrong, I always felt like at some point I had to stop talking and figure out a solution for myself.

  Ava gave me the raised eyebrow trick.

  Unlike Damaris’s reaction to my usage, I clearly understood what my sister was getting at. I could see her debating internally whether she wanted to call me out in front of Dekar.

  A shout rang out from behind. “Whoa, Dek! Hold up!”

  Saved.

  Dekar pulled reins as I pivoted. Ira jumped off the wagon bed where he was supposed to be catching up on sleep while Sivan scouted.

  He ran off the road, leaped over a small fissure, and stopped at a patch of bushes. Others tried to follow, but he turned and waved them off. They saw Ira meant business and backed away.

  I glanced over my shoulder. “Any idea what your brother is doing?”

  “Gods, if I know. I’ll go check.”

  “No. I’ll go.”

  It would give me a chance to get away from any follow up questions from Ava that I didn’t feel like addressing. I didn’t wait for a response, just started walking toward Ira. A snort from Ava sounded behind me.

  As I said, she knew me well.

  About a dozen people in our group formed a line bordering the edge of the road as they watched Ira squat in front of the bushes. It looked like he was talking, but I wasn’t sure.

  I moved past everyone and walked toward Ira, slowly. About halfway to him, I called his name.

  He turned and raised a hand for me to stop.

  “You mind telling me what’s going on?”

  He waved me off.

  “Ira. Talk to me. Otherwise, I’m going to keep coming toward you.”

  He glanced back to me, then to the bushes, which I realized were briars. He said something under his breath in the direction of the briars, then hurried over to me.

  He wore a pained expression. “There’s a boy in there.”

  “What? Let’s hurry and get him out,” I said, taking a step forward.

  He placed a hand on my chest. “No. He’s scared out of his mind. When he saw me coming toward him, he got himself tangled up worse. He’s hiding.”

  I frowned. “From who?”

  “Raiders.”

  My head swiveled about. “Nearby? How many?”

  “I don’t know yet. They attacked a nearby town called Uman. His parents told him to run and hide. He figured no one would ever look for him in the briars.”

  “Can he get out?”

  “He’s stuck pretty bad. We’ll need to cut him free, but all of these people, especially all the men, are scaring him. He said the last thing he saw was them killing his Ma and Pa.”

  I swore.

  “Yeah,” he agreed.

  I looked at the briars, I couldn’t even see the boy, but there was a bit of movement, a shaking of the bushes every now and then. “How did you even see him?”

  “I didn’t. I thought I heard a sob and then something just didn’t feel right so I went to look.”

  I shook my head. That wasn’t much of an explanation for something that seemed pretty implausible. Hearing a faint sob over people talking and wagons rolling? But, I let it go. How Ira knew wasn’t important.

  “How do you want to get him out?”

  “Women and some of the older children like Myra and Zadok would be the best to help. I think if they came to cut him free, he’d be less scared than if people like you and Dekar started chopping with swords and ax.�
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  I nodded. “I’ll see to it. Go comfort the boy while I get what you need.”

  He bobbed his head.

  Despite eight women and children working beside Ira, it still took the better part of an hour to get the boy out. I still didn’t understand how Ira found him.

  When the boy emerged, my heart sank. He wore an expression of pain and sorrow. Long brown hair was tossed over his eyes perhaps purposefully, as if trying to hide his tears. However, the streaks on his dirty cheeks gave away just how much crying the boy had done. I didn’t blame him. No child, especially one that looked around nine should ever see something as awful as what he had witnessed.

  He wanted no one to touch him except Ira, and then only a hand on the shoulder or arm to steady him as they walked. The boy looked weak from lack of food and water, tired from lack of sleep. Ira managed to convince him to go with Boaz and Dinah. The former innkeeper and his wife fed him and cleaned his wounds from the briars. Another family donated clothes for him to change into as the ones he wore were full of rips and tears.

  We were just ready to get moving again when Sivan came galloping up. He reined in beside me.

  “What’s going on?” he asked. “I thought you’d be farther along.”

  “We found a boy hiding in the briars. His family was killed by raiders.”

  He gave me a grim nod. “Well what I found won’t come as a surprise then.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Uman. Tyrus, it’s . . .” he paused while searching for the right word. “It’s awful. I don’t know what else to say. Words don’t describe it. Death is everywhere.”

  “Did you go into the town?”

  “Yes and no. Mostly scouted its outskirts. I didn’t see anything moving, but I guess there could still be a small group of people hiding somewhere. Not enough to threaten us if there is. No noticeable traps either.”

  “Let’s get this over with then.”

  “You don’t want to avoid it?” he asked.

  I glanced back at the boy Ira saved. “No. We might find more survivors like him.”

  He seemed like he approved of my decision.

  “I’ll get back out front,” he said, clicking his reins and galloping up the road.

  CHAPTER 19

  Uman was twice the size of Denu Creek with two wide streets running parallel to the main road and connected at several locations by narrower perpendicular streets. The layout spoke of a town that had recently swelled in population with plans for a far greater influx. Unfortunately, blackened timbers, shattered glass, and bodies choked those streets.

  Lots of bodies. Some already being gnawed on by vermin and crows.

  Too many bodies to count, though I couldn’t stop myself from trying. The raiders killed with little prejudice. To my left, a gray-haired old man lay dead, cradling a toddler that was likely the man’s grandson. I took solace that they both bore wounds that had probably killed them quickly.

  I couldn’t say the same for others. Women as old as the gray-haired man and girls as young as Abigail lay stripped and bloody in the streets. Around them, dead men held crude weapons. The men had tried to defend their families and in a few rare instances managed to bring down a raider.

  Looking over my shoulder, many of the mothers riding with us held their children at their breasts to protect them from the horrors. Fathers placed hands on the shoulders of their older children, trying to explain how such things existed in the world. I hated having the young ones see such sights, but I also didn’t want to split our numbers by having some wait on the outside of town in case the raiders returned.

  Realizing I should be seeing to my kids as well, I looked for Myra and Zadok. Ava stood over them, talking. She caught my eye and shook her head slightly. Another gesture told me that she’d handle things. I could fill in the blanks she missed later. For now, I needed to take charge of this situation.

  This could have been Denu Creek and everyone knew it.

  I cleared my throat and shouted. “Bring the children together and designate five women to watch them. Everyone else, start looking for survivors. Always have at least one person with you, just in case.”

  Work began quickly.

  Ira walked up to me, his voice low and heavy. “You know we aren’t finding survivors, Ty.”

  “Still have to go through the motions.”

  He gave me a curt nod. “C’mon and give me a hand,” he said, pointing to a large beam that rested atop two men.

  It was grim work, sifting through debris and putting hands on cold flesh in hopes of finding a faint pulse, knowing you wouldn’t.

  An hour later, Ira laid it out plain and simple. “Ty, all we’re doing is wasting daylight.”

  I opened my fists, unsure when they had balled. “I know.”

  “It looks like this is really bothering you.”

  “It is.”

  “Why?”

  I paused. “Does seeing this stuff ever make you feel guilty?”

  “Guilty for what?”

  “For what we did to the Geneshans. We burned and raided their towns.”

  “Only after they did that to ours.”

  “Does it make it any better?”

  “I don’t know. Go talk to Dekar if you want to philosophize. You know how I am. If someone does something to me, then I do it back to them. Harder. Simple as that.” He paused. “Besides, we never wiped out a whole town, just men of fighting age. And no one in our unit raped any women or children.”

  “Didn’t stop other units from doing it when we weren’t around to keep them in line.”

  “We couldn’t be everywhere.”

  Silence stretched. I let out a sigh, looking over the carnage once more. “The people here never had a chance, did they?”

  “Nope.”

  * * *

  I called everyone together and made the announcement that it was time to leave. We could do nothing more.

  The reaction was mixed. Some were thankful to get away from the hell around them. Rezub and others felt we shouldn’t leave until we searched every inch of town again.

  “That’s not wise,” I said.

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “Because we don’t know if the raiders that did this are still in the area. Sivan’s out looking, but he hasn’t returned yet. Do we want to risk facing them ourselves? Every minute we spend looking for life when we know we won’t find any is another we could have spent on the road. We really haven’t put the distance between us and Hol I had hoped for.”

  People hemmed and hawed. It wasn’t easy, but they saw the truth in what I said. Eventually everyone conceded.

  “What about the dead?” asked Rezub.

  “Leave them.”

  “So the rats can continue to get fat off of them? So the crows can feast? We should burn them like we did ours.”

  “We burned those who died in Denu Creek because we were worried about disease spreading. There’s no one alive here for the disease to spread to. Hauling everyone to a pyre is going to take too much time. Just let them be.”

  “It’s not right,” someone muttered.

  “What do you all want me to do?” I snapped, voice rising in frustration. “Wash and clean each body? Cover them in perfume and flowers? Give each their own proper burial? None of that is feasible. Look around, the world has changed. I thought each of you understood that. The old rules, the old way of living doesn’t apply anymore. I know it’s not easy, but we have to worry about the living and let the dead lie.”

  “Pa!”

  I wheeled. Zadok sprinted toward me, waving his hand. He and Myra had gone off with Dekar and Ava to search for survivors. I hadn’t bothered rounding them up right away since I knew I wouldn’t be getting any push back from them on my decision to move on.

  He skidded to a halt a few feet from me, breathing heavy. “Pa, you got to come quick. We found some people alive. They hid in the basement of a small temple built for Molak.”

  “Where?”

&n
bsp; “Just outside town. C’mon!”

  He took off. I followed him, as did everyone else.

  At the edge of town, situated in a grove of dead maples stood the charred granite walls of what had once been a temple.

  Zadok disappeared inside the doorway. I was a step behind.

  Though the walls still stood, the wooden roof had collapsed after flames weakened the support beams. Nothing inside escaped damage—marble was scarred black, maple wood turned to ashes, and metal curved into odd, twisted shapes. Despite that, it smelled like lavender from the incense kept at all of Molak’s temples.

  Myra and Ava stood in the far corner of the temple behind the slab of marble that priests used for animal sacrifices. I made my way around the debris between us. Dekar kneeled on the floor, clearing away the last of the rubble, exposing a hidden trap door. He flung it open.

  Out popped the head of a young boy around fifteen. He had his jaw set and a sword raised. Dekar slapped the blade aside.

  “Put that thing away. We’re not raiders.”

  The boy started to open his mouth, but was cut off by the voice of another from below.

  “Of course not, Evran. These people are here to help us,” said the voice.

  “How do you know? They could be back to finish the job,” said the boy, glaring around at us.

  “No. I prayed to Molak for help and he’s brought it.” An older man stepped into the light at the bottom of the ladder. He wore black and red robes, marking him as one of Molak’s devout. In my opinion, he thought too highly of the god he served.

  As Dekar offered the priest a hand and helped him up, I said, “Next time you pray, you might specify that the help come sooner.”

  “Sometimes the help we receive from the Father is not the help we ask for, but the help we need.”

  “That makes no sense. Just like every other priest I’ve met.”

  “Later, Tyrus.” Ava snapped over her shoulder, while she, Dekar, and Myra helped some kids up from the compartment. Most were young, though a few teenagers and elderly soon appeared.

  I grit my teeth. She was right. Arguing in the face of so much sorrow made little sense.