War-Torn

by J. E. Keep

  Though as one went for Aleena, Ramtok descended from above with a loud crunch as he landed upon the man, sword singing in the air as he slashed out at the third. The strike slashed across his throat, but that did not prevent the man from emitting a terrifying sound from his blood-spurting gash.

  She sighed, as if the carnage and ruin was a minor annoyance, and she moved towards the Chief. “It shouldn’t have ended like this. I’m not your enemy. Apparently they hate me even more than they wanted to rip you off.” Aleena lamented the truth in that statement as she bent down and checked his pulse.

  The Chief was still alive, and she could feel his blood still pumping beneath her slender fingers. Though outside she heard it: the first crack of fire. The bandits were using their weapons, and it seemed they included a handful of guns at least, though none of the bullets hit the cabin. She knew then the diversionary setup of fake-guards that were really branches and wood beneath tarps had worked.

  Ramtok took out his own rifle, and Saghar lifted the bandit Chief’s. “We must fight,” came the guttural voice of the shaman as his brother smashed out a window and took aim, firing a shot before anything more could be said or done.

  “It always comes down to that, doesn’t it?” Aleena grabbed the two wood-handled pistols from her boots and moved towards the door. “No survivors, except the Chief,” she ordered in a hushed tone. It still held all that powerful command, however, and she knew they’d obey utterly.

  She was the first to move out, and with grace beyond that of any normal elf she bounded to the cover of the trees in a mere moment. The crack of gunfire rang out and her sensitive ears drew her to it, the first bandit she sighted standing over one of the pretend-prone bodies and prodding the stack. The last thing he saw was the bramble of sticks beneath as she took him out.

  She could hear some cries of alarm go out, and knew it must have been one of the brothers showing himself, the bandits not expecting to see the Kron there. The human bandits had all run from the front to escape fighting such beasts, after all.

  The next bandit she crossed was more fortunate than the last, though as he pulled his rifle to bear towards her, she closed the gap and slapped it away before pushing her own pistol up in under his chin and firing.

  The messy affair dragged on, and by the time her two Kron approached her, the gunfire long silenced, she was peppered in specs of red. “That’s all of them, Matriarch,” intoned Ramtok, rifle across his broad chest.

  “You’re sure?” she said as she looked around her. Pure white stained with red. It was pretty, in a morose way. She felt almost dizzy as the flush of battle drained from her, and she quickly began thinking of her next step.

  Ramtok nodded his certainty. “I’m sure, Matriarch.” Though Saghar looked a bit distracted as he peered around him, gun in hand in place of his usual staff.

  The noise of combat was over, and already, slowly the sounds of the forest were creeping back into her surroundings.

  “What about the ones that set us up for this, hm?” she asked as she walked into the cabin once more. Her face felt hot and pricklish, and the familiar exhaustion began to coil through her body. She didn’t have time for such pleasantries, however.

  This was going to be harder than she hoped.

  The brothers followed her in, looking about cautiously before shutting the door. Saghar spoke first, however. “They set us up to take the brunt of a bad deal, Matriarch. Either they’re ready to pounce in and kill whoever won, or they’re nowhere near here.”

  Ramtok grunted his agreement to that sentiment.

  “I don’t really like that first choice.” She looked at the crate, her eyes falling to the Chief once more. “So I guess the question is, which one of us does he hate more?”

  Aside from the large, swollen bruise on his forehead, the Chief lay there looking for all the world as if he were just slumbering.

  Behind her, Ramtok said, “Either way, we should get moving soon, Matriarch.”

  “Agreed,” said Saghar. “They might be content for us to deal with the backlash of their scam backfiring, but we shouldn’t take the chance.”

  Her hand struck against the Chief’s face, the sound filling the room. The back of her palm struck the other cheek, and when finally his lashes began to flutter, her voice was that of a woman in control. “We were both set up. Your guards are dead. We will return you to your people, however, and you will tell them of how charitable we are.”

  The slowly awakening man seemed to take some time to soak in her words, his eyes rolling in his head before he looked up at her with a bit of a glare. Though once he saw the two Kron behind her, she saw shock and fright replace all else.

  “By the pits!” he cursed in awe at the sight of those two brutes. “They set us up in a trap with Kron?!”

  “The Kron are mine. They didn’t know about them, but now you do. The people that set you up were human, and the people that are trying to help you are us.”

  Saghar and Ramtok were unconcerned with the man as they kept watch around the cabin, though the Chief slowly seemed to regain his wits and she saw something other than shock and fright fill his eyes.

  He glowered at her, hard and venomous. “Those fuckin’ snow-wanderers set me up for a big rip-off,” he growled, and she knew that look — though directed at her — was meant for someone else. “My people won’t stand for bein’ ripped off. Not after we did fair trade with them for years at great cost!”

  “So wouldn’t it be nice to get back to them and warn them before any more of ’em get killed? Take what you can carry, but we’re moving fast,” Aleena said as she stood up, holding out her hand for his. “We’ll get you back in one piece, and you’ll get your revenge.”

  The fur-dressed man took his time, eying her, then her offered hand. At last he took it and moved back up onto his feet. “They’ll get what’s comin’ to ’em,” he growled out angrily, and she swore she could hear his teeth grinding even as he spoke.

  Chapter 25 – The Front

  It had been Private Caslian’s first serious engagement at the front since she arrived, and though she was not in the fighting, the stream of injured and maimed soldiers brought much of the reality back to her. On the second night of the enemy assault, one of their rockets that had travelled far enough back to hit amidst the medical facilities managed to light up one of the tents in an explosive ball of flame, the likes of which she’d never seen before.

  Green fire shot into the night sky, and not a soul made it out of the tent alive. “The rockets do their worst when they touch on fabric of any kind,” one doctor explained to her. “The flames consume clothes and tents and sizzle for ages on the skin.”

  She’d seen enough of that since to know it for fact.

  Without realizing it, she had been staring at the carnage in the tent. It was then she noticed that one of the burn victims on a stretcher-bed was with Levek’s unit. Berel was his name, though there was very little left of him to recognize. It was only that one eye that darted around frantically that drew attention to the deep blue that made him stand out amongst the soldiers under Levek’s command.

  Her stomach churned and her heart beat faster as she moved to him. Her hands were hardened and her face looked older than when she’d first arrived, and ever since that day Levek had protected her, she’d known fear. Caslian had managed to push it all aside, to focus on the positives in her life, but she felt something even deeper than horror.

  There were no words for it. It was as if all the worries that kept her awake at night had come at once, and her hand reached for Berel’s. “It’s okay,” she tried to say, but her voice was so weak. So foreign. She wanted to scream at him, to demand where Levek was.

  How she managed to push it away once more, she had no idea, for her knees quaked and her breath was shallow. “It’s okay.”

  Berel’s one remaining eye went to her immediately at that touch, at last focussing his gaze for more than a split second. “Hey, you... you’re...” He struggled f
or the words. “I know you,” he managed after a delay.

  “Yeah, you do.” Caslian smiled, trying to look as bright and cheerful as always. Every day robbed her of a little bit of that joy, but she fought so hard to keep it. “Looks like you made it out alive,” she added on, her thumb rubbing against his flesh.

  Perhaps the strangest thing about him was how unblemished and normal the one side of his body looked. More so than the scars of the other even.

  “Did I?” he responded, his eye flickering around again. “I guess they’ll send me home... right?” he murmured, his attention seeming to fade again already as his eye reverted to darting about.

  Her hand squeezed his, and she choked back her tears. “Yeah, I guess so.” She forced a smile, and the young woman with her hazel eyes and tanned skin knew she could fake it well. She’d had a lot of practice. “Look, you just rest up, okay? Hey... Was Levek with you?”

  “The Sergeant?” he replied with some confusion, his eye flickering faster. “He was... he was right beside me when it — ” He broke into a coughing fit, blood coating his lips as he lurched from his position for a moment before settling back down and closing the one remaining eye.

  Quickly after that, the doctor in charge came up to her. “Go take a break, Private.” His voice was hoarse after working the day away and now late into the night. “You’ve been up longer than I have, and it’s settled down now.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, but her stomach felt like someone had punched her, and her hands trembled as she stepped back from Berel. “They need me.” She was insistent, but the moment she swooned she knew there was no hope for her staying. She couldn’t see straight, and her eyes were burning.

  “That was an order, Private.” And with that the doctor simply walked away, and Berel lay there, eye shut, looking unconscious.

  There was no arguing with a superior’s command. Didn’t take a veteran to understand that. So with shaky hands she had to tread out into the night, the cool air tinged with the strange odours wafting from the front, the strange smoke still coating the sky and making it chillier than it should have been.

  Her own bunk was far away; she’d been moved after the flood of injured came back, to make more space near to the medical tents for the dead and deceased.

  With her blurry vision, she swiped away the tears that threatened her as she started moving. She didn’t even know what direction, but she didn’t want to go far. Maybe if she just paced around the tent, she’d find him. He was probably just busy, trying to clean up his people. Take care of them.

  “He’s fine,” she said to herself, but her voice sounded so strained.

  The voice that greeted her muttering was familiar, but it wasn’t Levek’s. “Well, thanks, sweetie.”

  When she peered up, she saw that she had wandered between two stone structures for housing some munitions. Some of the rare buildings were actually made from something other than tarp or wood. And the large, uniformed man that approached her from one side blocked her in.

  There was no moonlight to illuminate him, so he was but a dark silhouette to her. Tall, a bit bulky in the shoulders and arms, he didn’t wear his hat, just a tattered and worn trench uniform that frayed in several places along his outline.

  “Huh?” She stopped, her hands going behind her back as she stood primly. Her flaxen hair was pulled back from her face and her outfit was as clean as it could get, given the circumstances.

  “Sorry, ah... sir? I was just talking about one of the infirmed.” Had she eaten yet? She couldn’t remember, and the fact that it had occurred to her then was strange. Her stomach felt so tight she wasn’t sure she could eat, even if she tried.

  He stepped in closer to her, so she could smell the scent of vodka off him as he leaned against the stone building to her left.

  “Yeah, I hear tell yer a real carin’ sort,” he said, reaching out with his free hand and touching a stray bit of hair that had escaped to her shoulder. “Ya make a lotta men feel real good about themselves, they say. And I gotta say I’m a bit jealous.” The stranger’s voice was so dry and husky as his eyes gleamed in the day down at her.

  Her heart felt like it was in a clamp, but she smiled regardless. She always smiled when things got tough.

  “Well, I think you’re lucky you haven’t had to come my way. Most of the men I see aren’t too happy to see me.”

  Something was wrong. He was wrong. She glanced around her before taking a step back away from his hand.

  “Have you seen Sergeant Levek?”

  It didn’t work, however, for he grabbed hold of her shoulder and wrenched her back into place. “Hey now,” he began stepping in to her. “No need to be like that. Yer boyfriend ain’t here anymore.” He pushed against her, pressing her towards the wall as another voice came from behind him.

  “What’s goin’ on?” It came through the dark of the night as she was pressed between the vodka-stinking man’s hard body and the concrete at her back.

  She felt paralyzed. She had nightmares about the night Levek had protected her from those men. Was this man one of them? Caslian tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry and no moisture would go down.

  “I need to get back to work,” she managed to squeak out.

  She was such a delicate woman, so petite and innocent looking. The weeks she’d spent in the war, though, had stolen some of her brightness away, no matter how she struggled.

  “Hear that, bud?” said the first man before her, his hand moving across her shoulder towards her neck, rough fingers feeling her skin. “She wants to get to work on us.” And even in the dark she could see his uneven smirk and leering gaze.

  The other man came up beside them both casually. “Shit,” he said. “It’s her.” It was like those voices were coming back to her out of her memories. Out of her nightmares of that day.

  “Damn right, it’s her,” the taller one stated, his other hand moving down over her, feeling her through her ill-fitted uniform.

  “We’ve been lookin’ for ya a long time now, ya know, honey?” said the stockier man who’d just joined them, and his strong grasp went straight for her loins, pressing to her quim so hard through her clothes without the slightest bit of pretense.

  “Stop!” She struggled against them, but she felt so frail. It was hard for her to even see and her head felt like it was pounding. Her blood was boiling as they grabbed at her so crassly and she tried to knock them away. “The doctor’s expecting me!”

  The first man’s hand went about her neck entirely, his strong, calloused grasp choking off her throat, silencing her by force. “Shut the fuck up!” he spat out at her angrily, his temperament soured immediately. “Ya got any idea how long we’ve been strainin’ our drawers over you, ya sweet lil’ piece a meat?”

  “Real long time,” crooned the other man in his lower tone of voice, his thick digits groping at her sex so crudely still. “Musta wanked myself dry a dozen times since thinkin’ a yer tight lil’ body on my prick,” he said with a lick of his lips.

  Caslian tried to blink away the tears that burned her eyes, but her body felt like it was boiling over. Fear, anguish, rage... it all coiled within her as she felt that powerful hand squeeze her delicate throat. Still, her foot thrashed out, her fingernails digging into the man’s uniform.

  Her weary flailing against them was futile though. They were both built so solidly, and the first man slammed her against the concrete by his grip on her throat in punishment for her outburst. “Damn lil’ bitch just ain’t wantin’ to be nice with us, eh, bud?” he remarked, pressing an arm and a leg against the wall with his body.

  “Real shame,” added the second, who kept her other limbs pinned as he began to undo her pants and belt even as he continued to so roughly rub at her slit. “I was thinkin’ each time I beat off what a sweet time you an’ I would have, hun.” The breeches she wore nearly fell off the moment the belt was removed, so oversized for her small frame. “Damn, if she ain’t the hottest thing I ever laid eyes on,”
he said as if in a dream, feeling out her lower body with only her underwear to protect her.

  She made tiny sounds, pleading and begging, but they just came out as soft rushes of air. His grip was too tight on her slender neck. She was sure he would kill her. Collapse her throat and leave her there. Her parents had already mourned her — that was her send-off before coming to the front lines — and there was no one else who would care.

  Except for Levek.

  Tears streaked down her tanned cheeks as she shook her head, but her body was beginning to feel numb. As if it were no longer hers.

  The feel of a cold knife blade on her skin brought the sensations back, but she could barely see it as the shorter man cut off her undergarments. “Here,” he said, balling them up and then stuffing them in her parted mouth. “Wish’t we could put her pretty mouth to better use,” he sighed dreamily, returning his hand back to between her thighs, able to grope at her now-naked labia.

  “Good thinkin’,” said the first man, and he released her throat. She was finally able to suck in air through her nose again, but they only continued with their sick actions. “Nors’ll be pissed,” he remarked, undoing the buttons of her tunic. “He said he’d never jerk it again until he’d had a slice of this angel, and he don’t even show up on time.” He laughed, finding it hilarious as he freed her chest to the cold air.

  “Please,” she tried to muffle around the material, but then clamped her jaw together, as if that would save her. As if anything could save her as she pleaded at them with her eyes. She wanted to crawl up into herself, to hide from them. From the world. From this war.

  She was so small compared to them, like a doll they were playing with more than a woman. Levek, she pleaded. She wanted so badly for him to save her, yet at the same time, she didn’t want him to find her.

  Part of her knew that if he did, there would be bloodshed.

  As she tried to make some sense of it, the two brutes continued. No hesitation as they tore away her shirt and stripped off what remained of her clothes. Caslian was laid totally nude against the cold concrete wall, and that larger but shorter man continued to grope her with such enthusiasm, finding a breast in one palm.