He shrugged. He and I seemed to be on better terms, but he still had little opinion on what to do, just so long as I didn’t try to do something that might defy one of Balak’s few commands.
“All right then,” I said. “Let’s go.”
As we led our mounts down the hill and over the rough land toward the three thousand soldiers, I asked Dekar. “I saw you talking to Zev, earlier. Have you been staying in touch with everyone from the outpost?”
“Been trying to.”
“How are they all doing? I made sure they weren’t being mistreated, but I’ve barely spoken to any of them.”
I winced a bit, admitting that.
“They’re all doing pretty well. They’ve more or less learned what’s expected of them, and they’re just biding their time until this is over, I guess. Head down and taking it one step at a time.”
“Good.”
“Caleb is the exception though. His platoon leader was talking about promoting him to sergeant after they lost two lower officers.”
I grunted. “Never would have guessed that. But glad to hear it.” I paused, then joked. “I wonder if he still hates me as much for forcing him to leave the outpost and join the army.”
“He doesn’t.”
I gave him a look. “How do you know that?”
“Came up in conversation after we got back from taking out those three hundred Geneshans with the destruction globe.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, people understand more and more why they had to leave the outpost as time passes. Plus, knowing what you did to join us on that mission, and everything that happened during it, went a long way in increasing their respect for you.” He gestured to my legs. “Especially seeing the chains you now have to wear.”
That information was good to know. I wasn’t exactly trying to make everyone under my command a friend, but I also wanted as few enemies as possible. I had enough with the Geneshans.
I wanted to talk a bit more, but decided against it as we edged closer to the army marching toward us. Closer up, their discipline was beyond impressive. Ideas of what I could do with them blossomed in my mind. Combining their basic skills with the experience I had from the older veterans of the Geneshan War, I actually thought I might be able to pull off a few miracles in the field. At least in theory. Time would tell if my hope would turn into anything substantial.
The three thousand men came to a halt as the man riding out front on horseback raised a hand. He didn’t look back or stop, instead walking his mount to us.
We met some fifty yards from the main body.
He dismounted before I could open my mouth in greeting, stood at attention, and saluted. “The twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth regiments reporting for duty, sir.”
He snapped the words out with such efficiency, it took me aback. There didn’t seem to be any trace of bitterness or anger. Just a solider following orders.
“At ease, Captain Urion.”
“Yes, sir,” he snapped, moving into an at-rest position.
I wanted to laugh. This was a man who did everything by the book. He moved, acted, and spoke like everyone did after going through basic training. Most of those lessons we remembered, but trivial things that Captain Urion seemed to cherish usually fell away once in the field.
“Captain?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Relax. Though I appreciate the need to follow protocol, we’re at war, not presenting before the king.”
He looked confused, but slouched slightly.
“General Balak spoke to me about your men. He explained to me the original intent of your forces and that none of you had faced battle as of yet. Is that so?”
He seemed embarrassed. “Yes, sir. We unfortunately haven’t even had so much as a skirmish under our belt. We thought we might have to face a small force from Noval, but that never happened. Though they didn’t suffer as much as we did from the eruptions, I think their casualties partly deterred them from engaging us. I’m sorry.”
“No reason to apologize. Battle is not something to long for. Besides, you’ll have plenty of opportunities going forward. Geneshans are crawling all around us, converging and combining forces.”
“Yes, sir. I heard about your victory yesterday from one of my squad mages. Congratulations.”
I tried not to appear too thrilled at the mention of a squad mage, but I hoped there were more considering how few I had at my disposal.
“In light of the increase in enemy activity, and the fact that we’ll need to fully incorporate our forces, there will be immediate changes. I have some ideas based on what I know of your men, but once we get back to camp, I’d like to sit down with you and really hammer things out. Your input will be valuable.”
He smiled, which took me off guard. “Yes, sir. Of course. It would be an honor.”
I was confused. “An honor?”
Then he looked confused. “Yes, sir. You’re a hero.”
“A hero? Who told you that?”
I hadn’t heard anyone refer to me as a hero except Zadok. I pushed aside thoughts of him to remain focused. I had never felt like a hero, especially after the war.
“My father did,” he said. “You saved his life in the first year of the Geneshan War. He was an old veteran from the Byzan Wars, but was still stationed on the front lines at the battle of Yavne. He took a mace to the knee and couldn’t walk. Two Geneshans were ready to finish him when you came in with a spear and ran both of them through at once. Then you drew your sword and stood over him, protecting him until another soldier managed to carry him out.”
I blinked. Gods, despite my dreams, my nightmares, I barely recalled that first year or so of the war. However, as Urion’s words tumbled out, my mind opened. I could smell the sweat. Taste the spattered blood and dirt. Feel the same fear that drove me to fight. The desperation I had felt to not fail Lasha and the kids by dying.
I didn’t remember the captain’s father, but I remembered Yavne. And like all the other battles that haunted me, I wished I didn’t.
My hands began to shake. I squeezed the reins to steady them.
I blinked again. “Captain, one battle doesn’t make me a hero.”
“Maybe not. But my father kept up on you after he was sent back to Hol to lead the training of new troops on account of his leg never healing right. He told me of your unit and the work they did at places like the Safed Plain and Urtok’s Ridge. Then there was how you helped save Turine from being run over by the Geneshans at Wadlow Hill and, of course, at the last battle where you retrieved the artifact and—”
I raised my hand as if warding off the memories of my past pushing through to the forefront of my mind. “Enough.” Then I shook my head. “Captain, it sounds like you mean well, and I can see how those stories might be important to you. But to me they’re just reminders of men that I lost and people I failed.”
He frowned. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean anything ill by it. I was just trying to let you know that I look forward to learning from you. I also wanted to say thanks for saving my old man. He died in Hol with the eruptions, but you gave him nine years he wouldn’t have had otherwise.”
I was left speechless at the sincerity of the words.
Eventually, I cleared my throat. “I’ll see you back at camp, Captain. Carry on.”
I turned my horse around and left in silence trying to process all that I had heard.
* * *
It was late, really late when Captain Urion and I finished our conversation. First watch was almost over, and we had settled ourselves to some dried meat that neither of us could quite identify. But, we had successfully reorganized and combined the forces.
My veterans remained in control at a higher level, commanding regiments and companies. After that, I allowed many of his men to take control as platoon leaders. My hope was th
at the mix would be enough not to upset either side, those who had been with Balak from the beginning would lead, but they would also be teaching Urion’s men in case they needed to step into higher roles over the course of the next couple weeks.
I was rubbing my eyes with the back of my palms as I walked around the outskirts of camp, hoping the short cut would get me to my bedroll all the sooner. I was thinking about how unfounded my worries had been. Urion was a good man and our discussions had not only gone better than planned, but hearing more about his old man, made me feel like my time in the war wasn’t all for nothing.
I thought of my family. I may have done some good, but ultimately, I’d give it all up to have Lasha back and not miss out on that decade of my kids’ lives.
There was a quick shuffling of footsteps, back and to my left. I saw a flash of movement coming from around a dead oak. By the time I moved to defend myself, I was on the ground wondering what horse had hit me.
I opened my mouth to curse, but a boot to the gut took the air from my lungs.
“Heard you coming from a mile away,” hissed a familiar voice. “Getting careless.”
Molak-be-damned, I cursed to myself. Ittay, that tall piece of crud I handled for Boaz over Dinah’s ribbon. He’d probably been watching me for a long time.
I cursed again, because he was right. I knew better than to allow myself to become that distracted.
I rolled up to my hands and knees only to have them kicked out from under me. I fell on my face and another boot caught me in the side.
“Pick him up,” said Ittay.
“What? Why?” came a voice I didn’t recognize, probably someone he had convinced to come along.
“Because we can’t kill him here. You heard Captain Habak.”
Habak. I grit my teeth at the name while rough hands grabbed my arms and pinned them behind my back. Once I got out of this, he’ll have wished that mace that made him ugly all those years ago had finished the job.
“Kill him?” came the second voice. “He never said that. Just said to take care of him.”
“What do you think that means, idiot? We can’t just rough him up and let him go. He’ll make our lives miserable.”
“I didn’t want to do all that. Just get back at him for all the crazy training.”
“Well, it ain’t about what you want, it’s about what he deserves. C’mon and—”
Ittay’s words were cut off by an eloquent oof. The sound distracted the man pinning my arms enough for me to act.
I slammed my head back into the man’s face, then smashed my boot down hard on his instep. He screamed in agony, but the scream didn’t last long. I spun and planted a straight right into his nose. Blood and spit sprayed as the man dropped like a felled tree. I looked over to an unconscious Ittay. Reuma stood over him with her sword in hand. The back of Ittay’s head was bloody from where it looked like her sword hilt had struck.
I was out of breath, and my sides ached from their kicks. They may have cracked a rib.
“Thanks,” I finally managed.
She wore a look of sympathy. “Yes, sir.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“Ira, Dekar, and I have been keeping a watch on you from a distance when you go off on your own.”
I blinked and jerked my head back in surprise. “What? For how long?”
“Since you laid him and Habak out,” she said gesturing to Ittay. “Ira said there was no way they’d just let what you did to them go. He was certain they would try something eventually.” She looked embarrassed. “Sorry, I was late in helping. It had been so long I began to think Ira was wrong and was off taking care of business behind a tree when they attacked.”
Of all the odds.
“Why didn’t anyone just tell me about Ira’s concern?” I asked in frustration.
“I wanted to, but Dekar said you already carried more than enough worries. No reason why we couldn’t bear one for you.”
Though the frustration remained, any anger for being kept in the dark over Ira’s hunch faded as I considered the efforts they had gone through to watch over me. I couldn’t ask for better friends.
She gestured to Ittay and the other man groaning next to him, holding his broken and bloody nose. “What do you want to do with them?”
“I know what I’d like to do with them.”
She spun the sword in her hand. “You’re the boss. No reason not to.”
I thought about it hard, especially in Ittay’s case. But killing them here would only satisfy my anger, not reinforce a message I had hoped was already clear.
“No. Let’s tie them up and bring them back to camp. I’ll put a guard up and then take care of them in the morning.”
* * *
Nothing like getting attacked and knocked around to wake you up.
I no longer struggled to keep my eyes open though I still felt every bit as weary as before. Add in the bruises and pain from Ittay’s boot and I doubted sleep would come.
Before I even attempted sleep, I called a couple of men on watch to help drag my attackers back to the main part of camp. Ittay had woken up by then, but he didn’t say a word. I’m not sure if it was because of the dread of not knowing what was to come, or if it was because of the aftereffects to the blow to the head. Regardless, his buddy, had no qualms about speaking. In fact, it took a slap to the side of his face to stop his begging and pleading.
Captain Habak was awakened and joined the two men who acted on his orders. Like Ittay, his silence spoke volumes.
After all were secured in chains with a guard up, I left them.
Reuma went back to her bedroll while I made the dreadful march to the infirmary. I didn’t want to go, especially so late at night, but I could tell I needed to.
The pain helped distract me from my normal sense of dread upon entering the space. I slipped inside quietly, so quietly my chains barely even rattled. The tent was mostly quiet as the wounded tried to sleep. I say mostly, because many still suffered, and even in their sleep they moaned in pain.
I searched the darkness and spotted Noam walking toward me.
“You’re still up?” I asked, surprised.
“My turn to do the nightly rounds.” He yawned, then frowned as if seeing me more clearly. “Is something wrong?”
“I need you to check me over,” I said, wincing as my side pulled with an intake of air.
“What’s wrong?”
I had no desire to relay my tale to him just then, especially since I preferred to wait until the morning to talk about what had happened before the entire army. “I fell and hurt myself pretty badly.”
“Fell?” he asked, dubiously.
I shrugged.
He gestured to a side area sectioned off and empty. “Step this way then.”
I went into the area and sat on a small cot. He helped me take off my boiled leather and shirt. I griped the entire time.
He began looking over my ribs, pushing and prodding gently with his fingers. “Hmm, looks like you fell on someone’s boot to me. More than once.”
He raised an eyebrow. I didn’t elaborate.
“Anything other than external bruising?”
“Yes. Good thing you came. Some of your internal organs were bruised and you have a slight fracture on two ribs.”
“You mind taking care of the internal damage? I can deal with the external stuff, especially since I know it’s harder on you to try and heal me on account of my resistance. Normally, I’d just deal with all of it, but I don’t have time to slow down.”
“Of course,” he said in a workmanlike tone. “Let me just get my things ready. I’ll need to double all my mixtures at least with your resistance.”
As he started digging around and gathering up a collection of herbs and tools I had little understanding of, I asked. “How are those men I se
nt you working out?”
“Great. Every last one of them has taken an interest in learning.”
“Talking to Captain Urion today, he’s got about twelve dedicated healers and an additional fifteen cutters. I’d like you to evaluate them tomorrow on their knowledge. Let me know if you’ll be able to handle the additional three thousand men with their help. If not, I’ll see if I can swing you a few more bodies.”
He bobbed his head while settling a pile of herbs and magical tools beside me that he fiddled with. “Absolutely. Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Then let’s begin.”
CHAPTER 21
My arm swept around, the long whip acting like an extension to it. It snapped at the thinner end as it made contact with Ittay’s exposed back. He yelped as the whip fell, creating another red line.
That made six.
Blood crawled slowly down his skin as I drew the whip back up. My arm snaked out again and the whip cracked even louder across his back. He cried out loudly this time. The newest wounds oozed blood more quickly. Where the wounds began to crisscross each other, the mangled flesh peeled back.
Three more to go.
“Please,” Ittay said low, his voice shaky.
The next three lashes came in succession. Speed was the only mercy I was willing to give.
Ittay sobbed as I coiled the whip.
I gestured to two other men from Habak’s platoon. “Take them to the infirmary. See that they get bandaged to prevent infection. But under no circumstances are they to be healed.”
They each eyed the whip in my hand before moving to untie the three men from the posts.
A part of me felt bad about the ordeal. I did not enjoy inflicting pain on anyone, except maybe an opponent. But at the same time, a man can recover from ten lashes. Or twenty, as was Habak’s punishment earlier. A whipping was therefore a better alternative to me hanging them. And I would have been well in my rights to do so.
Hundreds of soldiers had watched the punishment. I made sure to draw a crowd.
I addressed those around me. “Veterans from the Geneshan War will recall that I never used this against another man before. They’ll also recall that Balak used it sparingly. However, when it is used, it is used to make a point. I’d like to think that there aren’t others among you who wish to do me harm. However, I’m not naïve, nor am I a fool. I’m also not one who enjoys giving out lashes. I won’t do it again.” I gave the whip to Ira and took the rope he held in his other hand. “The next time someone attacks me, or means to do an officer in this army any harm, they will not receive lashes.” I raised the rope tied into a noose. I pointed to a nearby tree. “This will be used instead. There are no more second chances.”
Resurrected Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Three Page 21