Sea Born (Chaos and Retribution Book 3)

by Eric T Knight

  “The Fist wants them alive,” Rouk said. “But if they give you trouble, don’t be afraid to stick ‘em. There’s plenty more where they come from.” He looked at Fen. “You and your boys are here to chase down any that run.”

  “Yes, sir,” Fen said. “Are we taking men only?”

  “Men, women, children. Take them all,” Rouk said.

  Rouk started forward again and the soldiers followed. The whole way out here Fen had been wondering what they were doing. At first he’d thought Wolfpack squad was going on another patrol. They’d patrolled every day since leaving Samkara. At any given time there were four or five squads out on patrol, riding ahead to check for ambushes, keeping an eye on the flanks of the army. The Fist wanted no surprises. But once Fen saw the foot soldiers he knew this was not going to be a patrol.

  What was the point of taking prisoners? Fen wondered. Surely the Fist didn’t mean to use them as hostages. There was no way that would work. No king would surrender his city to save a handful of villagers. Did he mean to put them to work? But that made no sense either. If there was one thing an army had plenty of, it was men to put to work. Maybe the Fist wanted extra laborers to help build the siege engines. But then why bring the women and children? They would be no help and they’d only be extra mouths to feed.

  Well, it was his job to follow orders, not question them. Fen turned to Lukas. “Take Strout and the brothers and circle around to the right. We’ll take the left.” Lukas saluted and the four of them trotted off around the right side of the village. Fen led Cowley, Gage and Noah to the left. “Spread out,” he told them.

  Rouk and the foot soldiers entered the village. The woman who was outside weeding yelped and ran inside. The soldiers began going up to doors and banging on them, yelling at the people to come out. Rouk rode to the center of the village and sat there on his horse, watching.

  Some of the villagers came willingly enough. They were met by soldiers with unsheathed weapons who marched them to the middle of the village and forced them to kneel on the ground. Others refused to open their doors and the soldiers had to kick them down. There were yells and a couple of screams as soldiers went into those homes and dragged the inhabitants outside.

  As two soldiers approached one house, the door flew open. A man carrying a hammer charged out at them. He caught them by surprise and one of the soldiers went down, struck hard on the shoulder. But the other soldier jumped in and stabbed the man in the side. He fell to the ground with a groan and the soldier stabbed him again.

  Then the soldier went into the house. There was the sound of crockery breaking, a curse, and a moment later he emerged, dragging a young woman by the hair. He had a scratch on his face and she was still yelling at him and struggling. He let go of her suddenly and turned on her, raising his sword. He was a young man, a new recruit that Fen remembered helping train.

  “Leave off or you’ll get stabbed too!” he yelled.

  The young woman glared at him, but then she subsided. She looked at the dead man, probably her father, who was lying on the ground and started to go to him, but the soldier grabbed her arm and dragged her off to where the others were waiting.

  Fen saw movement from the corner of his eye and turned. There was a home at the edge of the village that the soldiers hadn’t gotten to yet. The movement he’d seen was the door opening. A young man and his wife emerged and ran for a stand of trees that grew outside the village. The woman was carrying a bundle in her arms.

  Fen spurred his horse and chased after them, cutting them off before they got to the trees. The man was holding a long knife and he held it up in front of him. He was about Fen’s age. His wife was a small woman with big eyes and fine features. The bundle in her arms moved and Fen realized it was a baby.

  Fen sheathed his sword and held his hand up. “No one’s going to hurt you,” he said calmly. “As long as you come peacefully, everything will be fine. You have my word.”

  “Where are you taking us?” the man asked, still holding the knife. He was pale and his hand was shaking. His wife was on the verge of tears.

  “Back to our camp. Come peacefully and you won’t get hurt. Please.”

  For a few seconds longer the man defied Fen, then he lowered the knife and tossed it aside.

  “It’ll be okay. You’ll see,” Fen said soothingly, hoping desperately that he was right. Surely the Fist didn’t mean to kill the villagers, he thought. What would be the point in that? They were no threat. The Fist might not be himself these days, but he was a long ways from being a senseless murderer.

  Fen escorted the couple and their baby to the center of the village. Soldiers were busy binding the hands of the kneeling villagers. When one of them moved over to the young woman to bind her hands, Fen said, “Don’t. Can’t you see she has a baby?”

  The soldier looked to Rouk for guidance. The captain rode over. “What is it?” he growled.

  “Surely there’s no need to tie her hands,” Fen said.

  Rouk glared at Fen. “Again? We have to do this again? They’re to be bound. The Fist’s orders.”

  “How will she carry the baby then?”

  “How should I know? Leave the baby here.” Rouk gestured at the soldier, who reached for the baby.

  “Stop!” Fen said. Rouk spun on him and started to say something, but Fen was angry now. “We’re not leaving the baby here. What’s wrong with you? It will die.”

  “So a peasant brat dies. What of it?” Rouk snapped.

  “It’s a baby.”

  “You sure you want to do this, lieutenant?” Rouk said. “My orders are clear. Everyone comes back bound.”

  “I’ll take responsibility,” Fen said. A number of the bound villagers had already been tied together by a long rope knotted around their waists. “Tie her in with the rest of them, but leave her hands free so she can carry the child.”

  “You insolent pup,” Rouk snarled. He reached for his sword. “I’ve a mind to—”

  He broke off and froze at the sight of every member of Wolfpack squad drawing his weapon. With narrowed eyes he surveyed them, then he turned back to Fen. “Have it your way for now,” he hissed. “We’ll see what happens when we get back to camp.”

  When they got to camp the prisoners were put with several score more that other soldiers had rounded up. The camp had roused while they were gone. Breakfast had been eaten. Wagons were being loaded and soldiers were lining up on the road to begin the day’s march.

  “Now we’ll see what happens to you,” Rouk told Fen, a hard smile on his lips. “Now you’ll pay. Come with me.” He led Fen over to where the Fist was talking with several of the high ranking officers.

  The Fist finished giving the men their orders, then turned to Rouk and Fen. “What is this?” he asked sharply.

  “Fist, I—” Fen started, but the Fist stopped him with a gesture.

  “I didn’t ask you, lieutenant. I asked the captain.”

  Rouk shot Fen a victorious look. He saluted the Fist, then said, “This man disobeyed my direct order, an order I received from you.”

  The Fist turned on Fen with a dark look. “Is this true?”

  “Sir, if I—”

  “Is it true?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Failure to follow orders means lashes and a loss of rank,” the Fist said. “Do you know that?”

  “Yes, sir.” Fen stood rigidly at attention. He’d known these could be the consequences of what he’d done. He’d hoped the Fist would hear him out, but either way he stood by his choice. He hadn’t joined the army to kill innocent people. He’d joined to defend innocent people.

  “We’re about to move out,” the Fist said. “The lashes will be administered when we make camp tonight. Your rank is suspended and your squad will fall under the command of your corporal. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “If there are no more problems, the demotion will be temporary. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “
Get ready to move out,” the Fist said, turning away to where his aide was waiting with his armor and weapons.

  Fen started back to his squad. Rouk fell in beside him. “You’re done for in this army,” he said gleefully. “There’s no place for whiny children in an army anyway. An army needs hard men to make hard decisions. You’re none of those things.”

  Fen felt a nearly-overwhelming desire to strike the man, but he kept it in check. The trouble he was in now was nothing compared to what would happen to him if he hit an officer.

  ╬ ╬ ╬

  “I’m in charge of the squad now?” Lukas said when Fen relayed to him the Fist’s orders.

  “He busted you back down to private?” Noah said disbelievingly.

  “He disobeyed an order,” Strout said. “What did you expect the Fist to do? Give him a medal?”

  “Shut up, Strout,” Cowley said. “For once just shut up.”

  “Strout’s right though,” Fen said. “I deserve whatever happens to me. An army has to have discipline or it’s not an army.”

  “He doesn’t have to sound so happy about it,” Cowley growled.

  “You think I’m happy about this?” Strout said. “Fen at least knows something about leading. What does Lukas know? How am I supposed to follow him into battle?”

  “That’s not all,” Fen said quickly before the others could start in on Strout again.

  “You’re getting lashes, aren’t you?” Gage said. They all knew it. They’d learned the regulations early on and all the punishments that went with breaking those regulations.

  “He’s going to whip you?” Noah said. “But…but you’re his, you know, like a son to him or something.”

  “He has to,” Fen said. “Don’t you see? If he favors me he’ll lose the respect of his men.”

  “It’s that ass Rouk who should be getting whipped, if you ask me,” Noah said. “He better not turn his back on me during battle.”

  Fen struck Noah in the chest with the flat of his hand, knocking him back a couple of steps. “I hope that was only anger talking and not something you actually mean to do,” he snapped, looming over the shorter man, “because I will turn you in myself if you even think about doing that. Understand?”

  Noah looked at him darkly, but then nodded.

  “Enough about this,” Fen said. “Time to move—” He broke off and turned to Lukas. “Sorry, corporal.”

  Lukas took a deep breath and gave the command to mount up. Wolfpack squad trotted over and took their spot in the marching order, Fen riding in the rear. As they lined up behind the Ankharans’ carriage, he saw Rouk looking at him with a cold smile on his face. He looked away quickly, not wanting to give the man the satisfaction of seeing his response.

  ╬ ╬ ╬

  “Are we really going to let them whip our lieutenant?” Noah asked angrily. It was the end of the day and the army had set up camp. Wolfpack squad’s camp was near the Fist’s tent.

  “I don’t like it either,” Gage said, “but I don’t see what choice we have.”

  “Leave it alone, Noah,” Fen said tiredly. Noah had already sounded off several times that day, and Fen was worried that Captain Rouk or one of the other officers would hear. He didn’t want anyone in Wolfpack squad to get in trouble on his account.

  “It ain’t right is all,” Noah grumbled. “There wasn’t a one of us wanted to see the baby left there to starve. It’s inhuman is what it is. The captain’s the one should be getting the lashes.”

  “I disobeyed a direct order,” Fen said.

  “But it was wrong!” Lukas joined in.

  “Soldiers don’t get to choose which orders to follow,” Strout said.

  “Nobody asked you,” Noah told him sullenly, his hands balled into fists.

  “Strout’s right,” Fen said. “We don’t get to choose.”

  “But you did,” Lukas pointed out.

  “Would you make the same choice again?” Cowley asked. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet all day, not joining in when the others in the squad complained about what was happening.

  Fen didn’t need time to think about it. “I would.”

  “You’re confusing me,” Noah said. “First you tell us soldiers got to follow orders. Then you say you’d do it again anyway. Which is it?”

  “I don’t know,” Fen replied. He’d spent a lot of the day wrestling with the same question. “I believe it’s important to follow orders. But I couldn’t live with myself if I left a baby to die.”

  “Someone shoulda abandoned Rouk when he was a baby,” Noah said darkly.

  Cowley put his hand on Fen’s shoulder. In a low voice he said, “I’d take the lashes for you, if I could.”

  Though he spoke only for Fen’s ears, Gage overheard and spoke up, “I would too, lieutenant. In a second.”

  The others chimed in then, echoing his sentiment. All except for Strout who said, “I still think you’re a fool for bucking the system, but I’d find it hard to sleep tonight if we’d left that kid to die. I’m glad you did what you did. I bet some of those other soldiers feel the same way.”

  Sergeant Ely came swaggering up then. He looked them over, a smug smile on his face. “I’m here for Private Fen,” he said, putting emphasis on the word private. “It’s time for his medicine.”

  “I’ve a mind to wipe that smile off your face,” Noah said, jumping up from where he’d been sitting and getting up in the sergeant’s face.

  “Anytime you want to try, puppy, you let me know,” Ely responded, raising his fists. He saw the rest of Wolfpack squad closing in on him then and his smile disappeared. He took a step back. “I’m sent by the Fist himself. It won’t go well for you if you jump me.”

  “No one’s going to do anything,” Fen said, pushing the others away from Ely. “I’m ready,” he told the man. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” Ely said, cracking his knuckles.

  “I’m sure you will.”

  “All of you are so full of yourselves, ain’t you? The Fist’s pet soldiers, getting all sorts of special attention. We’ll see how you like my special attention,” he said.

  Cowley shoved in between Fen and Ely. “Don’t overdo it, Ely, I’m warning you.” There was no sign of the normal, cheerful Cowley at all. In its place was barely controlled rage. “You go too far and something will happen to you, I promise you.”

  Ely blinked. He started to retort, then changed his mind and turned away. “Come along then,” he said over his shoulder.

  Fen followed him over to the Fist’s tent. It wasn’t a very big tent, certainly not the size or opulence that most any king would use. The only indication that it belonged to the Fist was the banner with his crest on it flapping overhead.

  The Fist was standing outside his tent, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression impassive. A handful of officers attended him. Several score soldiers had gathered as well. Two long stakes had been driven into the ground about an arm’s width apart. Ely led Fen to them. Fen took off his shirt and soldiers tied his wrists to the stakes with leather straps. Gripping the stakes, waiting for the lashes to start, he looked out at the gathered soldiers and saw Flint standing there. He didn’t see his old sergeant that much anymore and hadn’t even spoken to him since they’d left Samkara. Flint’s eyes settled on his, and the man gave him the merest nod. It was a nod that spoke volumes. Flint knew why Fen did it and he understood.

  Then someone pushed their way through the throng of soldiers to the front. It was Ravin. Her face was pale. She started to take another step forward, her eyes fixed on Fen, but he shook his head, warning her back, and she stopped. She stood there, biting her lip, tears in her eyes. She mouthed something to him, but he couldn’t tell what it was.

  Rouk came forward and handed a long, leather whip to Ely. Then he turned to face the gathered soldiers. “For the crime of disobeying a direct order from an officer, this soldier will receive thirty lashes.” He looked to the Fist, who nodded. To Ely he s
aid, “Begin.”

  Fen gritted his teeth. His power waited inside him, eager to rise to his summons. It would be easy to channel it into his back, make his flesh stone so that the whip did nothing to him. Or he could allow the whip to cut him so that he didn’t arouse any suspicions, but still use enough power to minimize the damage. But he had already determined to do neither. He would accept his punishment as the rightful consequence of his decision.

  He heard Ely grunt as he swung and the first lash fell. The whip bit deep into his back, and Fen had to grit his teeth to keep from crying out, the pain worse than he’d expected.

  Another grunt from the sergeant, and the next lash fell. Fen bit his lip, determined not to cry out or show pain, though the pain was excruciating. It was hard to imagine that he could stand up to twenty-eight more of them.

  Ely settled into a rhythm then and the lashes began to come at a steady pace. Fen lost count. He lost track of everything except the pain and his determination to stand up against it. His mouth was full of blood from where he’d bitten his lip deeply. Every fiber of his body was screaming in pain. On top of that he had to fight back his power, which tried over and over to rise up inside him.

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, it stopped. No more lashes fell. Fen sagged against the straps, breathing hard. He spat a mouthful of blood on the ground and looked up at Ravin. She was crying freely. He tried to give her a smile to reassure her, but wasn’t sure if he managed it or not.

  Then his squad mates were crowding around. Someone cut the leather straps binding him to the stakes. Fen staggered and would have fallen but Cowley and Strout caught his arms and held him up. A moment later Ravin was there as well, bathing his face with her tears.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered to her. “It’s okay.”