Forever Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Four

by Joshua P. Simon

Two men helped Ilan to a sitting position. He wore fresh bruises on his face and moved gingerly while rubbing his left shoulder. A yard away from the three men rested my unsheathed dagger. For a brief moment, I wondered if Ilan had tried to kill me in my sleep. But the bewilderment, disappointment, and worst of all, the fear I saw in Ilan’s eyes cleared away all confusion. I swallowed the mother of all lumps in my throat.

  Myra approached. I wondered where she had been, since Dar said it was her shouts that had sent him running to me. She must have been busy keeping the rest of camp from getting involved in the situation considering the direction of her approach.

  She took my hand and whispered. “Are you yourself now?”

  “I think so.”

  She addressed Dar. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Please watch over the camp until I return.” She looked at all four men. “For now, do not say a word to anyone. I’ll have an explanation for everyone later.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Myra led me away, stopping a hundred yards outside of camp beside an old stump. She had me sit on the stump, then took a knee before me while still holding my hand.

  “Pa. Talk to me. Please.”

  I knew she sought an explanation, but when I opened my mouth, only disbelief and shame came forth. “I-I can’t believe I did that. I attacked one of my men. An innocent man.” I licked my dry lips. “What in the name of the gods is wrong with me?”

  “Was it a memory?”

  “A dream. I had a dream. But it was so real. I hadn’t had one so vivid in weeks at least.”

  Gods, I knew my progress was not nearly as swift as Ira’s. However, I thought I had at least improved some.

  “Tell me about the dream.”

  I was so dazed I did as she asked, though I caught myself enough not to add the many sensory details that haunted me still after waking.

  “So you mistook Ilan for a Malduk?”

  “I guess. But, I don’t remember anything I did to him. I was still asleep.” I rubbed my eyes, then my temple. “Gods, I’m losing my mind.”

  Saying those few words, admitting to someone else what I had been trying to deny for so long was a hard thing. I had implied as much to others more than once, but never had I phrased my struggles so bluntly. Unfortunately, the honesty Myra so desperately wanted from me did nothing to relieve the weight I carried. If anything, the burden felt heavier. I closed my eyes, trying to stop a wave of dizziness.

  “Why was he there?” I asked.

  I wasn’t necessarily trying to pass the blame, but one way I had tried to prevent others from discovering my secret was by sleeping on the outskirts of camp so that no one would hear me struggle through possible nightmares.

  “That’s my fault,” she said. “I asked him to wake you while I went to rouse the rest of camp. I should have done it myself. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. That could have been you.”

  There was a catch in my throat as I said that. Just imagining me raising a hand to strike my daughter was too much. Thinking of her face littered with bruises, or worse still, her dead body lying on the ground with my dagger imbedded in her eye had me ready to vomit. I hugged myself and began rocking like a gods-be-damned child, clenching my fists and jaw as if I could squeeze the image from my mind.

  I knew I wouldn’t be able to. Even though the image of killing Myra with my bare hands wasn’t real, I had no doubt that it would haunt me too.

  Myra touched my shoulders. I flinched, instinctively drawing away at her touch. I didn’t deserve comfort for what I had done. I didn’t deserve a daughter who loved me as she so plainly did. I didn’t deserve to live.

  Myra didn’t let me pull away completely, tightening her grip. She leaned forward and wrapped me in a hug. I felt ashamed for needing the comfort my child offered. I felt even worse because the idea of ending my own life didn’t seem like such a bad idea just a day after promising Myra I would never do such a thing.

  I was not the father I ever thought I’d be, and I was a far cry from the man I had once aspired to. For the first time since I returned to Denu Creek, I wondered if perhaps it was best that Lasha had died years ago. It had saved her from learning what I had become.

  * * *

  If Myra had gotten her way, we might have stayed out by ourselves all morning. But that would have only made matters worse. I couldn’t leave what I had done hanging out there. Any further delay in addressing the situation would create more confusion and greater negative feelings toward me. Besides, we still had Sinsca to worry about.

  I headed straight to Ilan upon our return to camp. My gut twisted at the bandaged cut on his cheek, the swelling around his right eye, and the sling his left arm hung in.

  The fear in his eyes pained me all the more. It wasn’t the same fear I had grown accustomed to seeing in the men I commanded. That fear was lined with respect and understanding. Terror better described what I saw in Ilan.

  Still, he stood tall at my approach. I held the man in greater respect for that.

  I halted several feet away. A crowd gathered around, anxious to hear our exchange. Everyone needed to hear my apology.

  “Sir,” Ilan said stiff in greeting.

  Some men might have tried to explain and make excuses for their behavior, worried that by doing anything else their reputation as a leader would be damaged. Xank take those men. Soldiers know when their commanding officer is feeding them crap, and that knowledge does far more to undermine a person’s leadership than anything else. Besides, this was not about me and salvaging my pride. This was about Ilan, and I had already decided that I didn’t care how weak I came across in trying to set things right with him.

  “Ilan, I’m sorry. Gods-be-damned, I’m maybe more sorry about this than anything else I’ve ever done in my entire life. I want to make it right with you as best as I can. Is there anything I can do for you to make up for this? I’ll even let you have a go at me? I won’t even try to stop you. It’s the least you deserve.”

  He blinked. “Sir, I don’t want to hit you.”

  “Sure you do. And that’s all right,” I said, stunned at how much I wanted that punishment.

  “No. I have too much respect for you. And you’ve done too much for me and mine.” He gestured around. “Without you we’d probably all be dead several times over. You stopped the artifact. You led us south and gave us a chance at a better life. I’d gladly take a few swings from you in exchange for that.”

  He probably thought he was doing me a favor, but his words only bit deeper. I’d rather him hit me. Even a kick to the groin would have been less painful than hearing his response.

  I sighed. “There has to be something.”

  He paused, working his jaw. Even with my blessing, he looked hesitant to speak. “Just tell me why, sir. That’s all”

  Speaking about my struggles was not something I wanted to do. Again, that kick to the crotch was a welcomed idea.

  My eyes flicked to Myra whom I caught studying me. She acted as though she wanted to come beside me and lend support. I gave her a tiny shake of the head. I needed to do this alone.

  I thought of lying. I likely would have if I could have thought of something believable.

  “I was dreaming . . .” I finally said, “reliving a part of my past. I was back in the war and I thought I was going to die. It was years ago, but it all felt so real. I thought you were someone else. A Malduk warrior. I probably would have attacked anyone, not just you. My mind wasn’t my own. That’s the only way I know how to describe it.”

  Silence hung in the air.

  Speaking those words in Kasala would have left many in confusion. But given that Reuma had primarily selected veterans to accompany us to Sinsca, I knew they understood. It was just not something discussed—as if speaking about it would activate something inside of them.

  Ilan cleared his throat. “I’m sorry you
’re dealing with that, sir.”

  “No reason for you to apologize. Last I checked, I struck you.”

  “But now I understand why.” He paused. “I’m not sure if it helps, but I don’t believe you’re alone.”

  Though I did not want anyone else to deal with what I went through each day, Ilan echoing a comment Ira had made did help.

  I met the eyes of several, noting a few tiny nods and looks of compassion. The subtlety in which those soldiers had announced their struggles and acceptance to me spoke volumes. I was reminded then of why some soldiers actually missed war. It wasn’t the fighting and bloodshed they had missed, it was the brotherhood and bonds that could not be replicated in peace.

  “I’m not sure what else to say other than thank you.”

  “That says more than enough, sir,”

  I bobbed my head in the silence that followed. I surveyed the group one last time, confirming to my relief none seemed to look at me any less favorably than before.

  The importance of our task ahead came back to me.

  “If there are no immediate concerns or questions, we should break camp. We have a job to do, and we need to get back on the road as soon as possible.”

  As the day before, Myra and I rode ahead of the group.

  In our relative privacy, she said, “I’m proud of you. I know that wasn’t easy back there.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “You sure we should go through with this today? Perhaps it would be best to wait and—”

  “I have a responsibility to see this through. The longer we delay, the more time we give Paki to pull something over on us again. We already had to wait longer than I would have liked in order to see to the fields.”

  “What if you have another episode?” she asked.

  “I won’t.”

  “Pa, this isn’t something you’ve been able to control. You’ve been trying to will it away for a long time. This morning was proof that strategy isn’t working.”

  Then maybe I needed to try harder.

  Sighing in weariness from discussing the subject matter repeatedly, I said, “Myra, I know I’ll be fine. I don’t have control over my dreams, but I won’t be asleep when I talk to Paki. Our discussions on strategy haven’t prompted anything. That should give you some assurance.”

  It was her turn to sigh, a much heavier one than mine. It pained me to hear the doubt in her tone. “If you say so.”

  * * *

  An hour into our journey, one of our scouts reported he saw someone watching us in the distance on horseback. Upon investigation, the rider fled.

  “Head back out, but don’t range too far,” I told him. “Anything odd you come across, high tail it back to me.” After he left, I told Myra, “Pass the word for everyone to be on alert.”

  Scouts reported little else of importance. But with anticipation mounting, I called for a rest about an hour outside of Sinsca. Our meeting could go any number of ways. It’d be better if we were refreshed before arriving.

  With the sun bright overhead, Sinsca finally came into view. The flat land leading up to the city had very few places we could use for cover. If things got ugly for us, we’d have a long way to retreat to for safety.

  Anger swelled inside of me at the sight of Sinsca’s lush green fields. They were evidence of what a river could do for a settlement. Even before our fields were poisoned, our fields didn’t look half as good as Sinsca’s.

  The dam holding back the river we so desperately needed rose above the natural embankment to our left. It diverted much of the river so that it created the moat that encircled the city and then poured more fiercely into nearby tributaries. Waiting just on the inside of the moat, stood a large group of warriors with sunlight shining brightly off their armor. Their number was surprisingly near ours, a contradiction to Chadar’s reports.

  It made me wonder if warriors were kept hidden from Chadar and Galya so that they could not accurately report Sinsca’s strength. The armor also took me aback. Paki must have hidden both assets from the council.

  I ordered my two hundred to spread out into lines twenty across and ten deep. Squad leaders were told that regardless of what happened, no one was to act unless given a direct command. I borrowed a spear and attached a white piece of cloth near its head. Securing the butt of the spear on my saddle so the cloth would be better visible, we continued our approach.

  About one hundred yards out, we came to a halt. There was movement within their lines. A spear of their own appeared a short time later. It also bore a white cloth.

  “Well, that’s at least promising,” I said to Myra. “Bring up your best squad. I only want cool heads with us.”

  I suppressed a wince at the word “us.” I didn’t want Myra in such a precarious position, but I needed her presence.

  “You aren’t worried about how it will look taking a squad?” she asked.

  “Don’t care. I don’t know them, and I certainly don’t trust them. Tell Lieutenant Dar he has command until we return.”

  Myra conveyed my orders.

  I handed off the spear to another to carry then the fourteen of us continued on. A group that mirrored mine crossed the moat also carrying their spear of white cloth.

  The men of Sinsca moved comfortably in full gear and looked confident. That might have shaken me some, but Paki made the mistake of meeting us too close to the rest of his men.

  Remaining near his men probably made him feel safer. However, it also allowed me to spot his ruse. Though it appeared some behind the moat had military experience, especially on his front lines, the majority did not.

  Where Paki’s front ranks stood tall at full attention in the midday sun, his back ranks sagged or fidgeted under the weight of weapons, armor, and gear. Old men leaned on spears for support while boys attempted to exaggerate their height, by standing on their toes.

  My attention returned to the fourteen men opposing us as we came to a halt twenty feet apart. Though we each carried signs of peace, none wore peaceful expressions.

  Beneath a furrowed brow, the man holding the spear said, “Why are you here, Tyrus?”

  “Paki?”

  He nodded. I hadn’t expected him to carry the spear himself.

  Paki did not appear to be a tall man, but he sat large in the saddle, head high and shoulders back. His frame was more round than lean, but his piercing brown eyes spoke of a hidden strength.

  “You know who I am?”

  “Of course. The traitors told me all about you and your people.”

  “Traitors?” I exclaimed.

  “Chadar and Galya.”

  “What? They’re good people.”

  “They were, perhaps. But they’ve chosen to help dangerous foreigners over their own people. I think traitor is an appropriate term to use in their instance.”

  “Others native to the Southern Kingdoms live among us and have helped us rebuild and re-settle Kasala. Are they traitors too?”

  “Maybe, but I don’t fault them in the same way. They likely wanted to make sure you didn’t ruin our land. Chadar and Galya are different. They led you here and spoke on your behalf to the council.”

  “Regardless of what you believe, the council gave us a charter. You saw a copy.”

  He spat. “I did. Another low for our nation. They treat us poorly but bend over backward for your people.”

  “Sounds like your issue is with the council, but you’re taking it out on us.”

  “My issue is with you and the council. I knew it would only be a matter of time before you made a show of force.” He gestured to the men behind me and narrowed his eyes. “I asked you a question that you never answered. Why are you here? To take what I would not give you?”

  “I’m not here for the river. After your last response, I sent word to the council for them to intervene on Kasala’s behalf. The
y refused and I accept their judgment.”

  Paki snorted. “Says the man who brought an army to my city. Chadar said you were noble, a man of your word who only wanted peace. Bringing two hundred men to my doorstep is not what I would call a sign of peace or accepting the council’s judgment. Is that how you repay the sign of peace I gave you by offering news of your sister?” He glanced at Myra. “And if you think trotting out one of your half-breed children will somehow prove you are different than the foreigners killing my people and stealing our lands, you’re mistaken.”

  Every part of me wanted to draw my sword and ram it into Paki’s gods-be-damned chest.

  My voice went low, and I spoke slowly so that there would be no mistaking my words. “I have never enjoyed violence. But the funny thing about my life is that for all my efforts at peace, violence is where I end up. Perhaps it’s because I am so good at it. Do not speak ill of my daughter again.”

  At my words, several of Paki’s men shifted in their saddles, hands drifting down to their weapons. Paki remained still. He didn’t necessarily seem frightened, but he understood he had crossed a line.

  I continued, raising my voice slightly. “I’m not here for the river, nor am I here to further any relations between our people. I see more than ever that there is nothing I can say or do that would cause us to be the neighbors I had hoped. I’m here instead to give you and your whole gods-be-damned city a warning. You poisoned our fields—”

  “We did nothing of the sort,” Paki cut in. “If you’re having any difficulties with your crops, it’s through your own hands, not ours.”

  “I am not a fool!” I snapped. “I know the signs of “the long blight” as it is called in your tongue. Your own people confirmed how grievous an insult it is to Kasala. I can’t believe that you would make up stories of my sister in an effort to make me doubt your guilt in using it on us.”

  I had to give it to Paki. He looked genuinely shocked at the accusations. “We would never use the long blight to poison our lands. And the news of your sister is true. After hearing it myself, I thought that if she’s done so much good, maybe I was wrong about you. But based on your immediate assumption that we would be behind your problems, I guess I was right after all.”