Wayward Soldiers

Home > Other > Wayward Soldiers > Page 24
Wayward Soldiers Page 24

by Joshua P. Simon


  The old man pulled in beside me shortly afterward.

  “How’s it looking out there?” I asked.

  He reached down and took a drink from a skin of water. “The trail’s in good shape for quite a few miles. Should be easy traveling through this afternoon at least.”

  “Finally some good news. How far you estimate we are from the caverns?”

  “Two days. A day and a half if we push it.”

  I glanced at the sky. “We don’t have that kind of time. We need to be there by tomorrow night.”

  “That’s going to be hard to do, especially because we will arrive in the dark. Even with that crazy sky, it’s going to be hard to find shelter without much light.”

  “Which brings me to my next point.”

  “You want to send me on ahead, don’t you?”

  I grinned. “Sorry. It’s the curse of being good at what you do.”

  He sighed. “That’s what I figured. Do I have time to grab a quick meal and say hello to my daughter?”

  “Of course. I’m not that heartless,” I quipped.

  “I know. Just giving you a hard time.”

  He didn’t leave. He rode next to me for a minute in silence.

  “Something on your mind?” I asked.

  “I just wanted to say thank you for talking to Damaris the other night. And not stringing her along and hurting her.”

  I shifted in my saddle, uncomfortable. That woman was closer to her father than I had thought. I cleared my throat.

  “I’d never purposefully do that to her.”

  “I know. You know she was married once before?”

  “She never mentioned that.”

  “He died in the first year of the Geneshan War.”

  Gods, that hit home. Maybe she and I had more in common than I thought. “I always assumed she never married.”

  “She likes to think of herself that way. He was no prize. She married him when she was young and naïve and he was young and sly. He fooled everyone, including me. He never hit her, but he wasn’t very kindly to her after they married. He kept her away from me and my son. When her husband died, she was upset, don’t get me wrong, but it was also freeing. She got to be herself again.”

  “That’s a shame. She’s too good a woman to be treated poorly.”

  “I agree. You’re a good man too, Tyrus.”

  “Some would disagree.”

  “I’m sure they would. I’m not saying you’re perfect, mind you. But you do what you think is right and for reasons that even those on the opposite side would have a hard time arguing with. I respect that.”

  “If you’re trying to get out of going on ahead, you’re doing a pretty good job of it.”

  He chuckled. “No. I’m on my way to get some food. Change out my mount too. We just don’t talk much outside of my reports.”

  “No. We don’t.” I thought about that old man hurting himself while searching those caverns alone. I couldn’t have that. “Why don’t you take Zamir with you too? The two of you will cover more ground and can watch each other’s backs. I’d feel better about that.”

  “I’m sure Damaris will too. Thank you.”

  “It’s the least I can do.”

  CHAPTER 32

  It was well past dusk when we made camp. We only stopped then, because Dekar and Ava had teamed up in convincing me to do so. They knew how badly I wanted to get to the caverns before the next eruption, but they also knew it was far too dangerous to carry on at night. This was especially true since the land had become rougher with greater ups and downs to be mindful of as we neared the Ofra Hills.

  I shivered. The last thing I wanted was to come across another hidden crevice like the one that caused us to lose four men.

  It was the ugliest camp of my entire life through no fault of Myra’s, as I’d told her we didn’t have time to do it right for that evening. If my drill sergeant had seen it, he’d have kicked my rear from one side of Turine to the other while calling me every name he could think of and berating me for my idiocy. He’d be right too. I knew better. A well-made camp had saved many lives in the army when the Geneshans tried to attack us at night.

  However, we weren’t in the army and I didn’t have a company of soldiers at my disposal. I had a handful of veterans and another handful of men and women who might turn into the real deal with time devoted to soldiering. The rest in our group were just everyday people who did their best given the circumstances.

  * * *

  We camped on side the road so that we could leave at first light. Dinner and fires were up to each individual. Most settled for neither, choosing sleep instead. They had a cold meal on the road earlier and would have a cold meal in the morning.

  Admittedly, the lack of the comforting smell from a campfire made me wish I had put in the effort to make my own.

  I volunteered for first watch and then volunteered two others. They didn’t appreciate that, but I didn’t ask them to. Watch was smaller than usual, but I didn’t intend for people to stand around in one spot. Instead, we paced up and down the length of our wagons, weaving in and out of families to make sure all was well.

  It was my intent to stay awake and take second watch too, even though it was going to be hard on me to do so. I was beyond tired, but I felt like I could push through the fatigue tomorrow. I had done far worse when slinking behind enemy lines with an hour of sleep over two days.

  “Get some rest, Tyrus.”

  I turned. Dekar walked toward me, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

  “What are you doing up?” I asked.

  “I had to relieve myself and saw you still up. So now I’m taking over. Otherwise, you’re liable to do something stupid and stay up half the night.”

  I kept my earlier plans to myself. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep. Long day tomorrow.”

  “I know,” he said as he came closer. “Get some rest.”

  “I’ll rest when we make it to the caverns.”

  He snorted. “No you won’t. You’ll just start stressing about where everyone is going to sleep, what we’re going to eat, and so on. People like you never feel comfortable resting. Now go, there’s never going to be a good time.”

  I gave him a look, but didn’t move. He was right, but I wasn’t in a mood to admit it.

  He shooed me with his hand. “I said go. I’m sure a whole bunch of bad stuff will happen when the artifact goes off again, right?”

  “Probably.”

  “And based on what we’ve seen before, it’s likely to be worse than the other two times. I want you as rested as possible when you have to start making decisions regarding that.”

  Sound reasoning even if it went against my plan.

  “Fine. I’ll rest.”

  “Before you go, I do have a question for you. I’d have thought to ask you sooner, but there wasn’t a chance for a lot of privacy on the road.”

  I gave him my full attention. “What is it?”

  He looked around at the people sleeping, like he was worried they’d wake at any moment. His shoulders hunched. “You ever have those days, those moments where you just really wonder why you bother? Why you keep trying?”

  I blinked. That hadn’t been the question I had anticipated. “Are you saying you want to die?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. I’m not saying I necessarily want to kill myself. I just . . . I’m not doing a good job of dealing with the loss of Adwa lately. It doesn’t seem like the hurt is really going away.”

  “I hate to tell you this Dekar, but I don’t believe it ever will go away. I just think that you start to get used to it until the pain no longer consumes you so much.”

  He sucked his teeth. “Any idea when that will start? Because I sure haven’t gotten used to it yet.”

  I snorted. “Not really. I haven’t either. Some days are better than others. Some hours, some minutes too. The pain just comes and goes.”

  “Well, that’s disappointing.”

  “I’m sorry.”

&n
bsp; He sighed. “No, I should apologize. I didn’t mean to bother you about this. Especially because of Lasha.”

  “You mean because she died?” I shook my head. “I lost my wife. You lost yours. How we lost them doesn’t really matter all that much in the grand scheme of things. We’ll never be with them again.”

  Honestly, I thought that in some ways he had it worse. Adwa chose to leave him. Lasha never did that.

  Dekar bobbed his head. “You know, I tried to focus on Ira for a bit. I was trying to look out for him even more than usual. Hounding him all the time like a mother hen. No wonder he wanted to come to blows with me.” He paused. “I feel unanchored with nothing to look forward to.”

  “We’re all drifting right now. No one knows what’s coming next. I think you had the right idea with Ira, though maybe you were going about it the wrong way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve found that the more I focus on helping others like the kids, Ava, the people we’re dragging along with us, it helps with Lasha’s death. Makes it seem that life isn’t so much about what happens to me, but instead about what I do for others.”

  “That makes sense. Definitely gives me something to think about while I take watch from you.” He smiled. “Now, go get some rest.”

  I chuckled. “All right.”

  “Good night, Tyrus.”

  * * *

  When morning came, I was glad I let Dekar take second watch.

  Zadok woke me at dawn in a good mood. Just like his Ma would. Up early and loving it.

  Myra threw something at her brother as she crawled up, groggy, behind me. She definitely took after her old man.

  Dekar kept a good pace once we got moving. Boaz offered to take my role of checking the road ahead. I was too tired and too sore to argue.

  I used the free time to catch up on a bit of sleep in the back of the lead wagon as we rode. Not nearly enough.

  To allow for more privacy, I moved Chana to a different wagon, allowing Myra, Zadok, and myself room to fit among the supplies while Dekar drove with Ava next to him up front. The arrangement allowed us some uninterrupted conversation.

  Earlier talks with Myra and Zadok, as well as my exchange with Dekar last night, gave me an idea to accomplish several things at once. I’d teach the kids about strategy and reading people while keeping Dekar company and getting his mind off Adwa.

  I made a game of it. Ava came up with a battle situation. She gave the strength of foes, make up of supplies, formations, and so on. We each asked her three questions about the battle. When everyone finished, we each took a stab at determining how best to accomplish defeating the other side. We picked apart the decisions and strategies offered, giving us insight into multiple points of view on a single situation.

  It was sort of like crests without all the stuffy rules. It also differed from crests in that there wasn’t a right answer. I drove the point home that there was no one way to win a battle. Too many factors came into play.

  Dekar in particular surprised me several times as he strayed away from his strict system of rules.

  “All right Pa,” said Myra after everyone took their third turn. “What about reading people?”

  “Well, you heard all of the questions we’ve asked. What did they tell you about us?”

  “That Dekar tends to follow textbook strategy, but can think outside of it when pushed. You know the rules, but look for ways to break or rather bend them, and you rely a lot on instinct.”

  “What about me?” asked Zadok.

  “You’ve got a long way to go,” she said while wearing a wide grin.

  “Hey!”

  “I didn’t say you lacked potential, just you’re not there yet.”

  “There you go,” I said.

  “But that’s nothing new. I knew that about everyone before today. How would that help me with people I’ve just met or never met at all?”

  “So you’re saying it’s easy to read people you know?”

  “Maybe not easy, but easier.”

  “Let’s put that theory to the test. Ava tell a story to see if we can see the truth or lie in it.”

  Without missing a beat, she started. “One time when I was eight, there was this huge, purple bird that—”

  I cut her off. “Something remotely believable.”

  She winked. “I know. Just joking.” She paused, thinking. “This was a story told to me by a friend.” She cleared her throat. “At seven years old this girl developed her first crush on a boy several years older. Looking back, she didn’t understand why she liked him because the boy was an arrogant, mean idiot. But at seven, she only saw things with her eyes and thought he was cute. Besides, the boy hadn’t done her wrong.

  “Well, that changed one day when the girl thought she would confess her love to the boy. She fixed herself up as best as she could manage for a seven year old and waited for him to pass by in town. She stepped out to tell him her feelings. Only the boy was with his friends. She stiffened her resolve and said what she had to say anyway, not ashamed in the least.

  “The look on the boy’s face was horror. It changed to anger when his friends started teasing him. In response, the boy began calling the girl names. She cried, and the boy’s friends made fun of her instead. Encouraged, the boy escalated matters. He spat on the girl and pushed her in the dirt. She managed to get away that day before it got worse. And it did get worse for a long time afterward. That moment changed her, she told me. Whether for the good or the bad, she wasn’t sure. Regardless, she was never the same.”

  My sister refused to meet my eyes as I studied her.

  Zadok broke the silence following the sad story. “That was pretty depressing.”

  “Yeah, not what I expected to hear,” said Myra.

  “I was told to tell a story,” Ava said. “I wasn’t told what kind of story it had to be. Any takers on what was a lie and what was truth?”

  Myra, Zadok, and Dekar discussed matters, picking apart the details.

  I sat there quietly, thinking as my stomach knotted and sorrow built up in my chest.

  “What about you, Pa? What’s your guess?” asked Zadok.

  Everyone turned to me. And finally, so did Ava. I could see plainly in her eyes the truth. She never could lie to me. Nor I to her. It made me wonder even more why she would pick that story to share. It was one I had never heard. One I wish I had known though, as it shed a great deal of light on her as a child and even more as an adult.

  She had to be the girl and knowing that, the boy had to be Jareb. I hated him even more than before, if that was possible.

  But no one needed to know that I knew the truth. No one but my sister, and I could already see she had figured out that part. I did what I thought she’d want me to do. I lied.

  “I don’t guess, son. I always know the truth. And the truth is your aunt’s story had none. Every single bit of it was a lie.”

  “What?” he shouted. He turned to Ava. “Is that true?”

  She forced a grin. “Afraid so.”

  “Man, I was sure it was only the age that was wrong.”

  Conversations quickly shifted to the mundane thanks to Zadok going off on a tangent. Ava said nothing which was her way of saying the matter was closed. I’d let it be over too. For now.

  Out of the corner of my eye, Myra glanced our way with a furrowed brow.

  * * *

  Late in the evening, much later than I had wanted it to be, we finally reached the mostly bare, rocky Ofra Hills. I couldn’t complain much as we still knocked off quite a bit of time from Sivan’s first estimate. Yet, I still grumbled some. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.

  It was hard not to grumble with the sky pulsing faster than before. In many ways, each moment felt borrowed because I was sure the artifact would go off again at any moment.

  Not that I’d say so aloud.

  The sky was doing its strange color sequence as we entered a narrow valley where dry grass grew amidst small, thorny bushes. The
path we traveled dipped slightly before coming to a dead end next to a thick copse of maple trees and an out-of-place pile of granite. Smaller clusters of each were more evenly spread throughout the valley. Almost no vegetation, even dead, climbed up the sides of the valley into the hills themselves. It was just gray and black rock mixed with lots of brown dirt. Small, steep, trails led to various cave entrances.

  Sivan waited for us with Zamir by his side.

  “You made good time,” he said, casting glances at the sky. “Just as you said you would.”

  “I hate breaking my word,” I replied, climbing down from the wagon. “You found us shelter?”

  “There’s got to be at least a hundred caverns here. We haven’t been able to search every one, but we found several that are ideal for what we need. Three in particular even have a water source. I figured we’d use those.”

  “Those? We won’t all fit into one?”

  He shook his head. “It’ll be tight between them I think. I thought we’d keep the animals separate. We can send them through a passage between one of the others I discovered. We’ll need to unhitch them. The incline is too steep to bring up the wagons.”

  “Understood.” I turned to the group. “I need four people specifically assigned to the animals and seeing them to safety. I need two more to make a litter for Chana. The rest of you need to start unloading all of the supplies from the wagons. No one is to stop working until everything is secured. No one rests unless you have children under three. And if that’s the case, we need to consolidate who’s watching them. Sivan and Zamir are going to show you which caves are safe for us to camp inside.” I turned back to the scouts. “Can you two split up the group or do I need to?”

  “We’ve got it,” said Sivan.

  We were all exhausted. And it was dark. So naturally, nothing went easy. And since nothing went easy, people did a lot of griping and complaining while they worked. But, at least people worked hard. They knew what was at stake.

  Progress was still slow. After an hour, we had barely managed to unload half the wagons. We were tired, legs burning from the up and down climb of the rocky paths.

 

‹ Prev