Forgotten Soldiers

by Joshua P. Simon

  “What’s your plan? I presume we aren’t going to spend the rest of our days here. Then again, if that is your plan, let me suggest we build a more substantial shelter before winter sets in.” She nodded toward the lean-to.

  “No. Once you’re ready, I thought we’d go into town.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, for starters you and your brother could use some better clothes.” I nodded toward Zadok’s feet. “And shoes. After that, I thought I’d start looking for a job. Once I secure a source of income, then we can look at renting a room or something at one of the inns for winter.” I sighed, thinking about the money I left at Jareb’s in order to buy Myra and Zadok’s freedom. “In time, I should have enough money to get a place of our own. I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to get our old home back, but the more I think about it, maybe that’s for the best. A new house might be a good symbol for a fresh start.”

  “The best place to have a fresh start would be somewhere other than Denu Creek.”

  I blinked. “But this is our home.”

  “Not by choice.” She grunted. “I wanted to leave years ago. It offers nothing for me. Or Zadok.”

  Zadok didn’t voice an agreement with his sister, but he didn’t speak a differing opinion either.

  “Besides,” Myra continued. “Jareb won’t let go of what happened. You should know that.”

  I looked away, thinking.

  No father wanted to listen to advice from his children regardless of how sound it seemed. Especially, when it was not only sound, but something I should have considered myself. The problem was that I was letting emotions cloud my judgment. But then, how could I not? Every dream I had in the last decade involved me returning to Denu Creek, and reuniting with my wife and kids. Now, my wife was gone. As dumb as it sounded, leaving Denu Creek meant I had to completely face the fact that those dreams would never come true.

  I sighed and began packing my things. “You’re right. We should probably leave.”

  “Good.”

  “However, we aren’t ready to go anywhere just yet. You and Zadok need clothes and we’re pretty light in the way of supplies. I don’t have a whole lot in the way of coin left, but I should have enough to get what we need before heading out.”

  “Couldn’t we just go to Tamra where your friends are, and buy our stuff there?”

  I snorted. The girl was smart. “We could. However, I don’t want to go to them completely empty-handed. Especially, since they’re just getting settled in themselves.”

  I wouldn’t say it out loud, but a part of me wasn’t eager to see Dekar and his wife cozying up to each other with Lasha’s death fresh on my mind either. Even still, I’d get over it if I felt it would keep my kids away from danger. I guessed I had a full day, if not more before Jareb got his act together and tried to come after me. He had always been slow in making a decision and I hadn’t left him and his friends in the best of conditions for any speedy action.

  Regardless, I’d have more than enough time to get the things I needed, and also check in on Nason. His reaction to me entering town still stung quite a bit. I needed to see what was going on there for my own peace of mind. Maybe he was in trouble himself?

  I stood and slung my bag over my shoulder. “Zadok, put out the fire. We’re leaving.”

  CHAPTER 15

  We reached the edge of town late in the morning. By that point, my clothes had long dried and then begun to dampen anew with sweat.

  Though a few people patrolled the streets, for the most part, the town sat empty. As was usually the case in towns the size of Denu Creek, early morning, midday, and late evening were the times it bustled most with life. Time in between was spent working in the fields or in the shops lining the main street.

  Few noticed us as we veered to the left side of the thoroughfare. I hoped my worries from when Ira, Dekar, and I had first ridden into town were an overreaction. I doubted it, but hoped all the same that just maybe the idiocy that had plagued other towns on our way home hadn’t completely reached Denu Creek.

  I was taking in the town’s changes in more detail when I came to an abrupt halt in front of a local apothecary not yet open for the day.

  “I thought you were taking us to a tailor,” said Zadok

  “I was. . . .” But the tailor wasn’t where I remembered it.

  “Oren retired almost six years ago. He sold the space to Irad who turned it into an apothecary,” said Myra, reading my thoughts.

  I frowned. “Gods, I never thought Oren would retire. So, who’s the tailor now?”

  “We actually have two. Gadiel moved into town right after Oren retired. He’s next to the feed store.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “Oh, he’s a jerk. He’s apparently from some town near Hol and likes to remind everyone any chance he gets. Looks down on most people.”

  “Is he good?”

  “Yes,” said Myra.

  “Who’s the other one?”

  Zadok pointed. “Sivan is a few doors down. He opened up just a year back.”

  I looked to Myra. “Any good?”

  “From what I hear. Nice too. Problem is Gadiel has been dropping his prices in an attempt to drive Sivan out of business. He over charged everyone for so long he can afford to do that now.”

  My hand ran across my money bag. Although I didn’t have much to spare, a part of me felt pulled to at least start with Sivan. I never liked bullies. “We’ll try Sivan first.”

  That warranted a smile from Zadok and a slight nod from Myra. I guessed I had made the right decision. Score one for me. I needed all the help I could get where Myra was concerned.

  I took note that on our way to Sivan we passed the cobbler. That would be our next stop. Poor Zadok was walking around barefoot. He didn’t seem to mind, but I did. Thankfully Myra’s footwear was actually in good shape. So long as she didn’t incur a massive growth spurt I felt they could easily last her through the winter.

  A large window adorned the front of Sivan’s shop. Full ankle-length dresses, shades of blue and brown, hung in the window. Various shirts and trousers lay beneath them on the bottom of the display.

  A small bell sounded as I opened the door.

  “I’ll be with you in one moment,” rang a woman’s voice. It came from an open doorway in the back of the shop behind the counter.

  “Take your time,” I said, not so much because I meant it, but because it seemed like a courteous reply.

  I scanned the inside of the shop while waiting. More displays sat against the wall to the left with a large, full-length mirror between them. A box about two hand widths high rested on the ground in front of the mirror. To the right, shelves held stacks of fabric in various colors. A privacy shade stood in the back, obviously used by customers to change. One chair sat not far from the privacy shade.

  I faced the doorway in the back of the shop as footsteps against the wooden floor grew in volume. A small woman appeared with hair as bright as the morning sun. Her skin was without blemish or wrinkle even though she looked near my age. I thought the reason for my guess at her age might have had to do with the warm smile she wore, or possibly the way her hair was pinned up in a bun, but then I realized it had more to do with what lay behind her eyes. There was something there that said she was not simply a young, pretty face to be treated like window dressing in order to attract customers.

  “Good morning. My name is Damaris. What can I do for you today?”

  “I was hoping you and your husband could fit my children with a new set of clothes, something warm for winter.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Tyrus. This is Myra and Zadok.

  She smiled. “Well, Tyrus, I’m actually not married. I help my father run the place. He’s in the back working on a recent order.”

  “My apologies.”

  She waved me off as she walked over. “You aren’t the first to make that assumption.” She changed subjects. “What about something for
yourself? Perhaps a new shirt, something dressier? We’ve just received this great material that—”

  “No,” I said, cutting her off. “Nothing for me. My clothes might not be much to look at, but they serve their purpose.”

  She nodded and turned to Myra. “How about we size you up first?” She took Myra by the hand. “While I’m taking your measurements we can talk about what style you want your new dress to be.”

  I thought about Myra shivering last night, and frowned. “No dress.”

  “What?” Myra asked, giving me a dirty look.

  “I’m sorry, but we need to be practical. You’ll be warmer in trousers and shirt. Plus, trousers are less cumbersome which may be important to us since we aren’t sure how things will play out in the coming days.”

  Her shoulders hunched forward, wearing a look of defeat. She saw my reasoning, though she didn’t like it.

  I put a hand on her shoulder. “Maybe we can get you a dress in time for next summer,” I said, trying to brighten her mood.

  She shifted her stance so my hand fell away. “It doesn’t matter.”

  I saw it did.

  She probably hadn’t owned a nice dress since I was bouncing her on my knee. I made a mental note to make that up to her. My list seemed to grow by the minute. I clenched my jaw. I had been careful with my money for ten years so by the time I made it home I wouldn’t have to wait any longer to make things up to her.

  Jareb’s contracts changed my plans.

  Damaris watched the exchange without interrupting, something I appreciated. She smiled wider, and spoke to Myra. “There are still plenty of things we can do with trousers and shirt. We can cut it differently so it still has very much a feminine quality. I actually have an outfit like that myself for traveling.”

  Myra looked up, hopeful. “All right.”

  I breathed a small sigh of relief. “Myra, would you mind letting Zadok go first? I need to visit the cobbler to see about getting him some shoes. I can do that while Miss Damaris is fitting you afterward.”

  “Sure.”

  “Go ahead, Zadok.”

  “Do I have to, Pa?”

  I saw his trepidation. “Miss Damaris isn’t going to bite you. It’s fine.”

  “I’ll be as quick as possible. And it’s just Damaris,” she said to me, walking over to Zadok. “I’m not ready for the Miss part yet. Maybe by the time my hair turns gray.” She gave me a small wink before putting her arm around Zadok and leading him to the mirror.

  Myra stood next to me, quiet and sullen. I thought to say something more in an effort to make things right, but everything that came to mind seemed like it would do more harm than good. I chose to focus my attention on Zadok who looked as uncomfortable as a stable hand at the king’s court. I’m pretty sure I saw him blush a few times during the measuring process.

  Damaris could obviously sense his discomfort as she kept her smile present and made small talk in an effort to distract him. She moved quickly between measurements and jotted down notes on a nearby chalkboard.

  When Damaris announced Zadok could step down, he jumped off the box and ran over to me. I patted him on the back and leaned down as Damaris was making the last of her notes. I whispered. “One day you might not mind having a pretty woman jostle you around like that.”

  “Pa!” he said in a low whisper, face growing red.

  Damaris turned. “All right, Zadok. That should do it. Myra, are you ready?”

  Myra nodded and walked over. Zadok was out the door before I even had a chance to turn. I decided not to tease him anymore. I may have pushed it too much already. Sadly, my children were still strangers to me and I didn’t know when to tease or when to be serious. I had to remind myself that these weren’t soldiers. I needed to talk to them differently.

  Like most other businesses, including the tailor we just left, the cobbler had his own window display. The display showed shoes of varying styles—mostly black or brown with the exception of a green pair I’m sure no one but an actor or a playwright would buy.

  I led the way inside again, greeted by the overwhelming smell of leather and hide. A middle-aged gentleman looked up from a work station in the back where he hammered on the sole of a boot. A large, twisting mustache spanned his face.

  The small twinkle in his eye at first evident when we entered, faded as he looked us over. He rose from his seat and approached.

  I guess our physical appearance was beneath his usual clientele. “Can I help you?” Skepticism laced his voice.

  “Yes, I need to get my son fitted for some boots, something warm, but comfortable.”

  The man looked Zadok up and down. “Payment is required up front.”

  “That’s fine. I’d like them by this afternoon. The nights are getting cold.”

  “That shouldn’t be a . . .” his voice trailed off as his eyes rested on the sword at my hip. He seemed to notice the dagger at my thigh next. Then the boiled leather peeking through the collar of my shirt. “You know, come to think of it, I doubt I could get your order fulfilled anytime in the next few days.”

  I frowned. “Is that so?”

  “Yes, I’m actually behind on my work.”

  “Is there another cobbler in town?”

  He shook his head. “No. You might try Tamra though. It’s only a day’s ride away.”

  “Which means I’ll get the boots two days too late.”

  “I’m sorry, I—”

  “What’s your angle? Are you trying to work me for more money? If so, let’s get to it.”

  “You were in the army, weren’t you?”

  Ah, the crux of the situation. “I was.”

  “There are stories about—”

  “So, I’ve heard. Most are completely inaccurate.”

  “Regardless. If someone saw me doing work for you it might impact my business.”

  “It’s not for me. It’s for my son.” I pulled Zadok forward. “Look, I just got back to town and I learn that my boy’s got nothing for his feet. I know you’ve been outside recently. The air’s getting colder and unless he gets something to wear by the time the first snow hits, he’s liable to start losing toes. I can’t let that happen. You don’t want to be seen with me. Then I’ll leave out back once we’re done here. But first, you need to size him up and promise me his boots will be ready by the end of the day. How much do you charge for something like that?”

  He told me the number.

  I blinked. No way it cost that much for boots. But I didn’t have time to argue and I could see he was going to be hardnosed about it. I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to strike him. I knew that wouldn’t get me or Zadok anywhere.

  “Fine.”

  I walked over, counted out the money from my pouch and set it on the counter. My pouch was getting light far too quickly.

  He counted the money, meticulously examining each coin for authenticity. I began to wonder if he was in the wrong profession. Moneylender seemed more apt considering his scrutiny.

  “We have a deal?”

  He paused for a moment, thinking. “Have your son sit there,” he said pointing to a chair. The man walked over and locked the door. After that he hurried over to Zadok, squatted, and grabbed a foot. He scrunched his nose. “A bath might do him some good,” he offered.

  “No doubt,” I said, trying to make light of the comment rather than let the cobbler’s rudeness get under my skin. “But one step at a time.”

  The cobbler measured Zadok’s feet, then had him stand to determine where he placed most of his weight.

  He scribbled notes quickly, calling out without looking up. “Come to the back door after sunset. I’ll have the shoes ready for you then.”

  “We’ll be there. C’mon Zadok, let’s go.”

  The man got up and walked to the back of his shop. “Follow me.”

  He peered out the window of the back door. When satisfied, he opened it quickly. “Make sure you’re here on time. I won’t wait around.”

  “We’ll
be here.” I held out my hand, hoping to end on good terms. “I’m Tyrus.”

  He looked at my hand, but refused to take it. “If anyone else from town is with you or sees you come, then the shoes stay with me. I can’t take any more chances.”

  He slammed the door, leaving us out in the alley.

  “This isn’t what I expected at all,” I muttered.

  Zadok said nothing.

  “C’mon, let’s go see if your sister is ready.”

  We got back to Sivan’s and Myra was sitting in the only chair, waiting. Damaris was in the back, but came out at the jingle of the bell on the door.

  I requested to have their clothes ready by the evening as well. After the cobbler, I expected a battle or at least some extra fee tacked on for such a request. However, Damaris surprised me.

  “That won’t be a problem. My father is already working on Zadok’s trousers now. I only ask that you allow a little extra time when you return for the final fitting. You can pay for the clothes then.”

  I smiled, genuinely. .“Thank you.”

  It was nice to be treated with some sense of courtesy. I had almost forgotten what that was like.

  On the street, Zadok asked. “Where to next, Pa?”

  “The blacksmith.”

  “Why there? You need some work on your sword?”

  “Not exactly.” I turned to Myra. “Is Joram still running the smithy?”

  She shook her head. “No. His place burned down when one of his apprentices got careless. I don’t know the new smith’s name, but he’s over on the corner, there,” she said, pointing.

  It looked nothing like old Joram’s place. Twice as large with two chimneys, each billowing smoke. A large sign painted with a hammer and anvil hung over the wide, open door capable of fitting a horse and carriage.

  I sighed. Had anything not changed?

  The rhythmic banging, clanging, and pounding of hammer and anvil served as the backdrop to my conversation with the new blacksmith at a table in the middle of his shop. I allowed Myra and Zadok to wait outside rather than suffer through the heat.