“There’s an alternative, you know. You’ve told me before that sometimes thinking only got you so far. Sometimes you just had to follow your gut. Right?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s your gut say about Damaris?”
“I know what you’re getting at, but it’s not that easy.”
“Molak’s balls, it’s not. You can lie to everyone, even yourself if you want, but I know you love that woman. Not exactly the same as you loved Lasha, but you do love her. After all the hell you’ve gone through, can’t you allow yourself happiness in that?”
I shook my head, thinking about my mental health. “There’s too much of an unknown with me.”
Nason cocked his head, looking baffled. “What do you mean? What unknown?”
I started to respond, but caught myself. Nason had gotten me to the point I nearly spilled out the extent of my struggles to him regarding Lasha.
I squeezed my empty water skin tightly. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“You only think I won’t. You can’t know that for sure.”
“No. I don’t want to burden you needlessly. I appreciate everything you’ve said. Truly. You’re right that we don’t talk like we used to, but I still consider you one of my best friends and I won’t dump my crap on you.”
He let out a massive sigh. “And you’re still not going to talk to Damaris and make things right with her?”
“It’s best for her that we keep our distance.”
“How can you say that?”
The look of pity Nason wore caused my anger to rise.
“Because you’re right,” I snapped, tired of the back and forth. “I do love her. More than I thought I’d ever love someone else. A life with me will be filled with disappointment and hurt. She deserves better.”
“You ever thought a life without you would be even worse? She’s hurting now, Tyrus. That’s why she’s locked herself away from everyone.”
“She’ll get over me much easier than if we were to start something I couldn’t finish.”
“Gods, Tyrus. Stop it and—”
I clasped Nason on the shoulder, cutting him off. “Nason, we’re going in circles. Thank you, but I’ve said all I can. I’m going to take a walk and clear my head.”
I gave his shoulder a squeeze and turned away. To my retreating back, he said “Good night,” in a low, sorrow filled voice.
Hearing that tone, I let out a slow breath of resignation. He had tried to lift my spirits, but I had actually brought him down.
* * *
My feet took me to uninhabited parts of Kasala on the northern side of town. There, I imagined what the area was once like before the artifact. Those imaginations had me think of the lives lost because of the eruptions, which in turn took me to the low mound of dirt that covered hundreds of Kasala’s former residents. It wasn’t a funeral pyre like I had grown accustomed to visiting in the war, but there was still something peaceful about a resting place for the dead.
“Gods, what is wrong with me?” I asked while staring at the dirt and thinking of all the work that had gone into completing the mass grave.
I was sure by now others knew the truth of the mound, but if they did, no one had spoken of it to me. That overall silence on the matter made me proud of those who knew.
The continued silence validated my own decision not to speak of the things tucked away in my mind. Just like in the case of the mound, the full truth would only bring hurt and pain to others. There was no point in that. I had an obligation and duty to protect Kasala, just as I had an obligation and duty to protect those I was closest to.
A hardness latched onto me, giving me an internal strength I hadn’t felt in some time. I stood straighter while overlooking the mound. I felt solid, confident in myself and my decisions for the first time in weeks. Nothing would shake me from my current path. Keeping my current course was the right one. I was sure of it.
Then my world crashed.
Flashes struck me. Bodies stacked higher than a man’s height, blackened under intense flames. Bodies lay on a battlefield, burning in the aftermath of sorcery or from lines of pitch lit by fire arrows.
The smell of battle engulfed me. The pain, the fear, and all the uncertainty that came with war coursed through my body.
Having not had such intense memories since Sinsca seemed to make the episode all the worse.
I’m not sure how long the experience lasted, but when everything had passed, I was down on one knee, head in hand, almost as if in prayer. I looked over my shoulder while catching my breath. Small pockets of light were still visible in town. Though the memories of war felt like they had lasted an eternity, I knew they had been brief.
Once more, I reached for my water skin and cursed its emptiness. I checked the glass vial in my pocket even though I already knew that none of it remained. Desperation grabbed me. I undid the top of the vial, trying desperately to force the tip of my tongue inside to lap up any residue of the concentrated potion.
There was a slight bitterness, but I had no way of knowing if I had consumed enough for it to be effective.
I got to my feet slowly and walked back into town, using each step to steady my breathing. I couldn’t wait any longer for the perfect moment to speak with Lieutenant Dar. I needed more of the potion so I could get to sleep.
Most everyone was in their homes by the time I made it back to the main street. Myra and Zadok were not. Both hurried toward me when they noticed my approach.
“Where were you?” snapped Myra.
I frowned. “Excuse me?”
“Where did you go?” she repeated, accentuating each word like a parent speaking to a defiant child.
“I went for a walk, young lady. And I’d appreciate it if you did not speak to me with that tone.”
She softened. “You need to let someone know when you’ll be gone that long. We were worried.”
I softened as well. “I needed to clear my head. It’s been a busy day.”
“Are you ready to go home?”
“Actually, I wanted to walk around a bit more.”
“Then we’ll keep you company,” said Zadok.
“No. I mean, thanks, but I’d like more time to myself.”
“Why?”
“Because I just do,” I said as sweat ran down my back and the tiniest of tremors grabbed hold of my hand. I jammed it into my pocket.
“You’re acting really strange,” said Myra.
“I could say the same for you. I didn’t realize I had to start checking in with my daughter every waking moment.”
She scowled. “That’s not fair. You know that after—”
“Don’t say it,” I snapped. I was sick of hearing about the need to open up. “I know why. Just . . . just give me some time alone. I’ll see you both in the morning.”
Before they could argue further, I gave them each a quick and awkward hug good night. I walked off at a fast pace, not only because of my need to find Dar, but because the hurt on my kids’ faces was not something I wished to linger on.
It took everything I had not to go straight to Dar’s place. Despite my concerns over suffering another incident, I worried that someone, including one of my kids, might attempt to tail me. Therefore, I took the long way, zigzagging and circling back until I knew with certainty no one followed.
The lights in Dar’s home were off. For a moment I nearly panicked, worried he was somewhere else. But I calmed myself. He had likely gone to bed as other homes around him were void of light as well. I knocked on his front door, low at first, harder when no one answered.
After a couple minutes, I began to panic some. I didn’t want to bang on the door any louder and wake up neighbors because that would only lead to more questions. I walked around his house, looking for a hint of which room he slept in. A second floor window had its shudders
thrown wide. After a moment of listening, I caught the faint sound of snoring.
I searched the ground for pebbles. I found several, making sure they were just barely heavy enough for throwing. The last thing I wanted to do was injure the man, especially when I already felt like a mule for having to wake him. I tossed the smallest pebble first. It clacked against the side of his house. I swore quietly at the echo that resulted and again for having missed.
The snoring continued. Apparently, Dar was a heavy sleeper.
I tried another pebble. It made it inside, bouncing on what sounded like the floor. It caused a small stir in the snoring, but after a moment, it started again.
My next throw hit the outside of his home again.
“Molak-be-damned,” I muttered, sorting through my remaining pebbles, patience waning at an exponential rate.
Despite my earlier reservations, I went with the biggest stone that remained. The pebble sailed through the window. A gasp followed as the snoring stopped.
“Finally,” I muttered.
A woman’s voice came after the gasp. “Why did you hit me?”
Dar’s sleepy voice answered. “What? I didn’t hit you.”
“Crap,” I whispered.
Dar wasn’t married so I had thought it would be easy to keep my visit secret.
“Something hit me. Wait, what is this pebble doing in the bed?”
“How am I supposed to know?”
For a moment I thought about running off like a kid caught vandalizing someone’s home. That would be fitting. Tyrus, commander of an army, killer of sorcerers, destroyer of the artifact, and former mayor, afraid to face a woman he accidentally struck with a pebble.
“Lieutenant,” I hissed over their bickering.
Their conversation stopped.
“Lieutenant,” I said again. “Out here.”
Footsteps pounded the second story floor. Dar stuck his torso out the window and squinted. “Sir, what are you doing out here?”
“Sorry, but we need to talk.”
He looked over his shoulder, frowning. “Did you—”
“Yes. I’m sorry about that too, but you didn’t answer your door. Can you come down?”
“Uh, yeah. Give me a moment.”
He disappeared. I heard a conversation start up between him and the woman as I walked to the front of the house. I wondered what the woman would say when she learned that the disgraced former mayor of Kasala was the guilty party throwing rocks through people’s windows.
Dar stepped out onto his front porch as I rounded the corner. “What’s going on, sir?” he asked, wearing a look of concern. “Do I need to get my gear?”
I realized how he might think there’d be a need for that which only added to my guilt. “No. Nothing like that.” I wanted to add, ‘Just your former mayor who can’t keep his crap together, looking for something to help him function.’ Instead, I asked, “Is she all right?”
He tried to act like he didn’t know what I was talking about, but then came to the conclusion that would be pointless. “Yes. I don’t think it will leave a mark.”
“That’s good. I didn’t want to wake your neighbors, and that was the only thing I could think of to get your attention short of climbing up the side of your house.”
“Right.” He looked nervous. “Tyrus, about Ha—”
I cut him off as he started to say her name, anticipating on where the conversation was about to go based on the shade of red his face wore that was obvious even at night.
“Lieutenant, I have no idea who you have up there with you. Frankly, it’s none of my business. As far as I’m concerned, tonight’s little meeting isn’t happening.”
He relaxed. “Thank you, sir.”
I relaxed too. If they were nervous about me keeping their meeting private, I had less to worry about them telling others about my presence.
“So, what are you here for?” he asked.
“I need more of that potion you gave me.”
His brow furrowed. “Did you spill it? Or did the bottle break?”
I frowned, pulling the empty bottle from my shirt pocket. “I know I probably used a bit more than I should have—”
“You drank all of it!” he shouted.
The sudden rise in his volume startled me. I shushed him while casting glances in either direction down the street.
“Not all at once,” I hissed, in part to ease his mind and in part to ease my own. I didn’t tell him about my scare.
“Sir, I told you how much to drink and you swore to me that you’d follow what I told you.”
“I did at first, but I ended up increasing the doses. Sometimes when I needed it. And admittedly, sometimes when I wasn’t as careful as I should have been.”
That hurt like hell to admit.
“Gods, sir. You have to be careful. You can’t just change dosages like that.”
It felt pathetic to be lectured by one of my men, but deep down I knew I probably needed it. Only Molak knows why I decided to let Dar be the one to come down on me. “I know.”
He swallowed noticeably. “Sir, that vial was enough to last months. And you’re telling me you drank the whole thing in a few weeks.”
“I guess I have a high tolerance,” I joked, trying to make light of the matter.
Then I thought of how badly I had held my liquor when I’d drink with my unit and knew a high tolerance wasn’t exactly true. I guess I had just been lucky for once.
“This isn’t funny.” He paled and gave a slight shake of his head. “I’m surprised you’re not dead.”
I cleared my throat. “Well, I’m not. I finished the last of it today, and it’s already starting to wear off. Sadly, I was coming over here for more to help me sleep, but after what you said, even I’m starting to see that sounds like a pretty stupid thing to ask for.”
“Yeah, but I can’t give you more anyway. There aren’t enough of the ingredients left in town to make another batch.”
Bile crept into my throat, sickened at what I was about to say. “Dar, I know you probably have your reservations about giving me anything else after this, but with the councilmembers here, I can’t afford to lose control. I need something to help me. Even if it’s weaker and you spoon me every Molak-be-damned dose like a child so I don’t overdo it.”
“I understand, but I really can’t. I don’t know enough yet to make something myself and anything worthwhile Vered keeps locked up.”
“So Vered might have something then? We just need to ask him, right?”
“What? Now?”
“Why not?”
“Sir, if we went to Vered at this time of night, we would have to tell him everything. He’d know about your struggles, about me giving you control of the medicine when I shouldn’t have, and about you taking too much of it. And I’m sure he’d go to your kids about what you’re wanting now.” He rubbed his brow. “I doubt you’d want that. And I’m certain I’ll lose my apprenticeship.”
Guilt for putting Dar in such a position battled with the demand I take something to help me gain control of my life. I already felt bad enough by what I had placed on Dar’s shoulders. Here was a good example of why I didn’t like involving others in my problems. I had tried to seek help, and all it did was potentially compromise Dar’s apprenticeship.
“You won’t lose your apprenticeship,” I said calmly. “We won’t tell Vered.”
He let out a slow breath. “Thank you.”
“But do you have any suggestion on how to keep the memories at bay?”
He snorted as if something was funny. “Getting drunk is about the only thing I know that helps me forget things. At least for a little while.”
I didn’t find humor in his joke, but I forced myself to grin for his benefit.
“Yeah,” I said as my eyes went to the ground.
“Sir?”
I looked up. It was obvious that Dar wanted me to announce an end to the conversation.
“Go inside and get some rest, Lieutenant.”
“You too, sir.”
“Yeah,” I muttered as I shuffled off his porch and into the street. I had heavy doubts that would happen.
I roamed the streets for another hour. Partly I needed to think, hoping a solution to my problem might come. But I also roamed out of fear of returning home and my kids seeing me in the state I was in. That fear got worse after suffering another smaller, less vivid episode.
Kneeling in the middle of an empty street to gather my wits, I reached a difficult conclusion.
Dar had joked that getting drunk ‘helped him forget,’ which was true for most, including me. It wasn’t a long-term solution by any means, and truthfully, one of the last things I wanted to do, especially after Myra had already expressed worry about what my water skin had contained.
Yet, I needed to do something to get through the night. I needed to be able to aid the council members. If taking a bit of alcohol could ensure that my contributions were effective, then that was just one more sacrifice I’d need to make.
I didn’t keep alcohol at home. Being the former mayor had its benefits, though. I never officially sanctioned the production and selling of alcohol in town, but I never exactly prohibited it either. I was well aware of several individuals who partook of that hobby in secret. I didn’t speak out against them because it had not yet affected their work. I could be strict at times, but I preferred not to be a mule.
I headed toward the home of the nearest hobbyist.
The house was at the western border. The distillery was easy to hide as the area received little foot traffic. I found several barrels and other cleverly disguised pieces of equipment, partially covered by an old tarp and planks of rotted wood. The items stood next to the rain collection system we created for each home. Most would assume the homemade distillery was simply part of the same system.
Quietly, I cleared away the rotted boards and tarp. Next, I pried open the lid, wincing at each tiny pop and creak in the wood. The fumes of the brew made my eyes water. It burned the inside of my nostrils so that I had to suppress several sneezes. The strong smell made me question the intelligence of my temporary solution. But then I thought of the alternative and pressed on.
Forever Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Four Page 38
