Reclaiming Honor

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  “You’re a fool,” Benthok hissed at Jodin. “You could’ve gotten Tovak killed today.”

  Jodin said nothing, just stared fixedly ahead.

  The lieutenant took a step away and swung his gaze around the section. “What is my one rule out here?”

  No one answered.

  “Could the corporals help me with this one? For it seems Jodin isn’t the only one to have forgotten.”

  “To not separate,” Thegdol said. “While foraging, we stick together.”

  “Why is that rule in place?”

  “Because if you go out on your own, it’s a good way to get dead, especially if you run into more than you can handle,” Thegdol offered.

  “We are stronger as a group,” Logath said, speaking up, while staring directly at Tovak. “The individual is easily overcome, as should have been the case today.”

  “Exactly.” Benthok snapped his fingers. “While hunting and foraging, you are never to separate. This is ground we do not know. Not only is it easy to become turned around and lost in the woods of these hills, but there are dangers.” Benthok gestured out into the darkness.

  The lieutenant turned back to Jodin. “Now that the corporals have helped refresh memories, what is my one rule out here, Jodin? I do hope you were listening.”

  “Not to separate, while foraging,” Jodin said.

  “Perhaps earlier today you forgot that order?”

  “No, sir,” Jodin said. “I did not.”

  “Care to explain yourself, then?”

  “It was supposed to be just a prank, sir, a joke, nothing more.”

  “Did I ask for an excuse?” Benthok pointed over to Tovak. “You didn’t just let one of our own go out alone. You sent the newest, greenest, most inexperienced member of our company out there by himself, to what you knew was murinok ground. If I’m wrong, please correct me.”

  Tovak felt his cheeks burn as Jodin said nothing.

  “It was ill-thought-out at best and dangerous, and you should have known better. Not only are we moving into hostile, untamed lands, but the wildlife in these hills are as deadly as they come.”

  Benthok fell silent. He was staring directly at Jodin. Tovak could feel the intensity of that gaze. The anger almost radiated outward from the lieutenant, like heat from a fire. Jodin, for his part, said nothing. The silence stretched for several heartbeats, then Benthok broke it.

  “Well, what do you have to say for yourself? I want to understand your thinking. Why would you send a fresh recruit into a murinok’s hunting ground? Help me understand, will you?”

  Jodin’s mouth opened and closed, then opened again.

  Benthok took a half-step nearer, invading Jodin’s personal space. “I asked you a question, soldier. I expect an answer.”

  “I thought it was just a baby, sir,” Jodin said, “a juvenile. I did not know it was an adult.”

  “Juveniles are still dangerous,” Benthok hissed. “Do you desire Tovak dead?”

  “Dead? No, sir. I—I, uh, I was watching,” Jodin blurted. “I was watching him the entire time. He wasn’t alone, sir, not for one moment. I was there to help, if needed.”

  Tovak felt astonishment, and he looked over as a dull whisper started amongst the camp. Jodin had watched the entire fight? Then Tovak remembered he was supposed to be at attention. He faced front again, looking straight ahead. The lieutenant seemed not to have noticed. Benthok had gone very still.

  Jodin had gone completely white in the face as he realized what he’d just admitted. Sweat beaded his brow and his hands began to shake slightly. The lieutenant turned to look first at Tovak and then Thegdol behind him, who appeared just as stunned.

  “Corporal, didn’t you tell me Tovak brought the murinok down by himself?” Benthok asked. “Without any help, do I have that correct?”

  Thegdol’s expression hardened as he gazed first at Jodin and then the lieutenant. “I did, sir.”

  Benthok turned back to Jodin. Tovak could feel the tension hang in the air.

  “You watched, but did nothing to help? Tell me that is not what occurred?”

  “It happened so fast,” Jodin said, in a tone that was far from convincing.

  “That is not the answer I was looking for,” Benthok said. The lieutenant clenched his right fist, as if he were going to strike, then after a heartbeat relaxed and unclenched it.

  “Sir, I, uh,” Jodin stammered, “I was there to help.”

  “And yet, you didn’t,” Benthok said. “Did you freeze?”

  “Sir, I didn’t mean . . . .”

  “Shut it,” Benthok snapped, then leaned forward and whispered something in Jodin’s ear, so that only the two of them could hear. Jodin began to tremble violently, his eyes locked with Benthok. There was true unadulterated fear there.

  The lieutenant took a step back and rubbed his jaw as he considered Jodin.

  “We are the company,” Benthok said in a voice that was almost a whisper and had Tovak and everyone else straining to hear. He raised his voice and it became firm as iron. “We are the company. Each one of you is its beating heart. We rely upon each other and in that reliance comes a sacred trust, a brotherhood in arms. Without trust, we are nothing. Without each of us, working together, relying upon one another . . . the company is nothing.” Benthok fell silent and ran his gaze around the section. The eyes that stared back at him were grim and hard. “It all comes down to trust, the foundation upon which our company is built.” Benthok hammered a fist into his palm. “We must trust each other. Pranks like the one that Jodin pulled erode that trust and hurt all of us. When everything goes balls up and we are in the shit . . . trust in the comrade next to you is all we have. Take that sacred trust away and we are nothing, there is no company, just a bunch of individuals.”

  The lieutenant let that hang in the air a moment, then sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly as he turned back to Jodin and Tovak.

  “For your actions, Jodin—perhaps I should say lack of action to aid one of our own—you’re on buurl rations for five days. No meat, no dodders, just hard bread and water. I’m revoking your spirit and wine ration as well. You will be fined half of your next pay, which will go to the funeral fund. For the foreseeable future, you will be assigned to latrine duty.” Benthok paused. “Corporal Thegdol?”

  “Sir?”

  “As Jodin’s corporal, you will inspect the latrines daily,” Benthok said.

  “Yes, sir,” Thegdol said. “It will be my pleasure, sir.”

  “It is my hope, Jodin,” Benthok said, “that each morning, as you muck out the latrines, you will reflect upon your failure to the company. In short, I expect you to learn. Do we understand one another?”

  “Yes, sir,” Jodin said, and his shoulders sagged a fraction with evident relief.

  “As an experienced member of our company,” Benthok said, and there was real disappointment in the lieutenant’s tone, “I expected better of you. You are lucky I am not having you lashed.”

  “It won’t happen again, sir,” Jodin said.

  “By Thulla, if it does,” Benthok said, in a quiet tone that was filled with menace, “I will do as I said I would, and I do not mean the lashing.”

  “No, sir,” Jodin said, with a slight tremor in his voice. “It won’t come to that.”

  Benthok gave a curt nod and then abruptly turned to Tovak.

  “Even though you were the butt of the intended prank, when you realized what you faced, you continued on. What were you thinking? Going after an adult murinok, and by yourself too? I really want to know.”

  The lieutenant’s eyes were piercing and seemed to capture Tovak’s gaze. It was as if Benthok were looking right into his soul. Tovak wanted to avert his gaze but could not.

  “Well?”

  “I have no excuse, sir,” Tovak said. “It was bad judgement and I will not make the same mistake twice. On my Legend, I swear it so.”

  “That’s right,” the lieutenant said in the same cold, hard tone he’d just used with
Jodin. “There is no excuse for your behavior. In fact, I know for certain you weren’t thinking. No sane individual would ever take on an adult murinok by himself. Are you crazy, perhaps not quite right in the head?”

  “No, sir,” Tovak said. “Just lucky, I guess, sir.”

  “Luck? Some put their stock in luck. I don’t. By rights, all we should have found of you, assuming we found you at all, was a patch of blood on the ground. Lucky or no, you’re a fool.” Benthok looked to Jodin, who was still standing to attention by Tovak’s side. “Fools, both of you, without a lick of common sense.” Benthok pointed a finger at Tovak, tapping him on the chest. “If it was luck, you best make Fortuna an offering, and soon. Thank her for your good fortune.” He shook his head slightly and then raised his voice so the entire section could hear him clearly. “Out here, we reward good thinking and good hunting. In my opinion you exhibited neither of those qualities. Fortuna got that kill, not you.”

  Tovak said nothing, for he’d not been asked a direct question. Benthok eyed Tovak for a long moment, as if he had something more to say, then turned to the rest of the section and placed his hands on his hips.

  “With all the hopper swarms gathering in these hills for the migration, we’re going to be running into bigger and more dangerous predators, not to mention goblins and orcs. What you’re filling your bellies with is a perfect example of what we’re likely to see more of. The fact that we ran into our first trapdoor spider, as tasty as it is, means you must be on guard and cautious. Stay on your toes. More importantly, use your head. Nobody, and I mean nobody, goes traipsing around alone. You go in pairs. And”—he stared daggers over at Jodin—“if you want to pull a prank, make sure it doesn’t put anyone’s life at risk.” He fell silent for a long moment. The lieutenant raised his voice, looking around at the section. “Am I understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” came the massed reply.

  “Tovak,” Benthok said. “You’ll have to prove to me that your judgement is sound, because as it is, I believe it to be suspect. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” Tovak said, feeling his cheeks flush with shame. Still, he knew he’d earned this and he had to sleep in the bed he’d made.

  “You’ve got teska duty tonight and tomorrow morning,” Benthok said. The lieutenant spared one more look around at the assembled section. “Finish your meal in peace. Before we turn in there will be a lesson. That is all.”

  Tovak blinked in surprise. His punishment was nothing compared to Jodin’s. He was keenly aware it could have been so much worse. The lieutenant spared him one last unhappy look and turned away, moving towards the cook fire. Tovak puffed out his cheeks and returned to his seat.

  “Gorabor,” Benthok said, “have you finished?”

  “I can finish after, sir,” Gorabor said. “I don’t mind running grub to the sentries first.”

  “Right, then,” Benthok said. “Off you go.”

  Gorabor got to his feet and made his way over to Shrike. The teamster was already reaching for the bowls he had sitting close to the fire.

  Tovak gazed down into his mess bowl, at the last bites of krata meat. He no longer felt hungry. Still, he knew he had to eat, for tomorrow was likely to be another demanding day. He finished his food and washed it down with some water from his skin.

  He rose to his feet, prepared to go to the stream and clean his mess bowl. As he did, he caught Jodin glaring at him. There was no comradeship in that gaze, only heated anger. He’d made an enemy this day, and in a very short amount of time too. The rub of it was, none of it had been his fault. He turned away from Jodin and made his way out of the camp for the stream, where he found one other washing his mess bowl.

  “Crazy or not, it took guts facing down a murinok,” the warrior said.

  Tovak looked up from rinsing his bowl. He did not know the warrior.

  “I’m Dran, from Corporal Gamok’s squad.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Tovak said.

  “A word of warning,” Dran said, “if you will take it?”

  Tovak gave a nod, wondering what was coming.

  “You showed up Logath and his squad today,” Dran said. “He won’t like that.”

  “What?” Tovak asked surprised. “Logath? How did I do that?”

  “His squad took down the krata,” Dran said. “Normally that’s quite an achievement, something to be celebrated.”

  “And I killed the murinok,” Tovak concluded.

  “That’s right. You showed him up.” Dran dipped his bowl into the stream.

  “He’s gonna take offense over who took down the bigger animal?” Tovak asked, finding the proposition of such a grudge almost preposterous. “And hold that against me? What happened to us being one big family?”

  “It’s got nothing to do with that,” Dran said. “Logath is very competitive. He aims to win at everything, even dice, and when he doesn’t, well, he tends to hold a grudge.”

  Dran shook the water from his mess bowl and stood. “Nice talking with you, Tovak.” He walked off, back towards the camp.

  Tovak watched Dran walk off and then turned his gaze towards the heavens. It seemed he was making more enemies than friends. He finished washing his bowl and headed back to camp.

  “Drop what you’re doing,” Thegdol called out, just as Tovak made his way over the bridge and past the berm. “Time for sign instruction.”

  Tovak perked up at those words. Benthok and Thegdol were by the fire, which had been freshly fed. Its light pushed back against the darkness. Tovak had been taught some of the sign language at the Academy. He’d enjoyed it and had even excelled at using the finger speak. It was how the pioneers communicated without talking and was something he could see being useful to the skirmishers as well, which was likely why the lieutenant was teaching it.

  “None of you are even close to being proficient in advanced signing,” Benthok said. “Lots to learn, and if you’re looking to be recommended to a pioneer company, you must master not just the basics, but the advanced signs too.”

  Tovak started over, moving with the rest of the section and gathering around the lieutenant. Thegdol spotted him, pushed through the press, and stepped up to Tovak. The corporal pulled him aside.

  “You’ll need to water both teska and gather whatever manure they’ve left for the camp forges,” Thegdol said. “There’ll be a bucket for the water, a sack and shovel for the manure hooked on the back of each cart. See that the animals are watered, the manure gathered up. I will be checking on your work. Oh, and don’t forget to brush the beasts down too. There should be a brush in one the buckets, and if there isn’t, speak to one of the teamsters. They will tell you where it is.”

  Tovak glanced over at the lieutenant, and then Thegdol, confused.

  “What about the sign language class?” Tovak asked, not wanting to give up on it.

  “The lieutenant assigned you punishment duty,” Thegdol said. “That supersedes tonight’s instruction. Now get going.”

  “Yes, Corporal,” Tovak replied, crestfallen.

  He turned and started walking to the bridge. Just beyond the camp and at the edge of the firelight, he could see the picketed teska grazing on the hill grass beyond the trench. Behind him, he heard Benthok’s voice as the lieutenant began his instruction.

  Tovak shook his head, feeling miserable. He was tired and worn out from his first full day with the company. While he got punishment duty, the others were being taught what they needed to become pioneers. It seemed unfair, though he knew it wasn’t. He’d earned his punishment. Then, Tovak came to an abrupt halt. He half-turned and glanced back, recalling what Benthok had said. Recommended for the pioneers. Could the lieutenant do that? Could Struugar?

  A moment of hope flashed through Tovak, before being dashed. A heavy fist clutched tightly at his heart. No, he thought, recalling what he’d overheard outside of the captain’s tent. Benthok didn’t even want him in the company. He thought, as a Pariah, Tovak was bad luck. There would never come a time when Ben
thok would recommend him for anything, other than menial duty. Tovak blew out a breath and continued walking.

  “Hey, boffer.”

  Tovak had been lost in his thoughts. Gulda, still on watch, walked along the top of the berm back towards the bridge and over to him. As she gazed down, from the edge of the berm, he could see what Gorabor saw in her. She really was a pretty girl.

  “Gulda,” he greeted.

  “You lived to tell the tale of taking down a murinok,” Gulda said. “You did good today, even if your lieutenant didn’t think so. Well, I have to admit it was pretty bone-headed, but you lived and that’s what counts.”

  “Thanks,” Tovak said. Her words had been meant to help, but they still did not make him feel better. He had messed up.

  “No matter what others think, luck is an advantage.” With that, she turned and walked back the way she’d come. Over her shoulder she said, “Enjoy teska duty.”

  Tovak made his way over to the first cart. Outside of the firelight of the camp, he took several moments to allow his eyes to slowly adjust to the moonlit darkness. He grabbed the bucket off the hook on the rear support. The brush was inside, large and heavily bristled. He placed it in the bed of the wagon and then retrieved the second cart’s bucket.

  Holding both bucket handles in one hand, he went to the stream, patting the neck of the closest teska as he went by. Teska were docile animals and quite affectionate, almost pet-like. He’d worked with them before, when he’d been employed as a stable hand.

  Tovak knelt next to the stream. He filled the buckets to the brim. When he stood, he groaned as his legs protested mightily. He paused, transfixed by the vast expanse of the plateau. The moon hung low over the horizon, casting the land in a soft, silvery glow, almost looking otherworldly.

  An owl hooted in a nearby tree. The light chill of the mountain air felt good. It was a serious improvement over the day’s heat. He could smell the campfire and the roasted krata. There was even the nasty stench of teska droppings mixed in, but he didn’t mind so much.

  For a moment, despite his troubles, it felt good just to be alive, to have survived. He was in a beautiful place, serving his people. Granted, he’d damaged his reputation with the section, but it didn’t seem so bad when put in perspective. Here was an opportunity, finally, to make something of himself, and Tovak intended to do so.