by Lance Wilson
“Keep your head down.” Byrdi says shoving his brother’s head back down behind the wall.
“Papa said we should have joined brother in the north” he says talking about his oldest brother Nagamasa.
“What’d he know? You watch me now. Do whatever I say,” he says with a smile at his youngest brother. They will get out of this alive, somehow.
“Aye-aye, lieutenant.” Bear says grows serious.
Bear punches his shoulder and moves on down the line. Nearby, Byrdi’s friend, Bolvive, though severely wounded is still fighting.
“How are the horses?” Bolvive asks pressing his long sword to his chest ready for the last charge.
“Better than you. Smell better, too. Can you hold on, Bolvive?” he says putting a hand on his friends shoulder.
“I got I choice?” Bolvive says with a smile on his face.
Byrdi smiles sadly. His men will die soon without medical attention. Byrdi moves down the line, spells whizzing overhead. He kneels beside Patroclus, his commanding officer.
“We need a flag. Find me a goddamn white flag!” Patroclus says panicking now.
“What are you talking about?” Byrdi asks looking around, why would he need a flag.
“Surrender, damn it! That’s an order!” Patroclus says his eyes alight with fear
The thought of the word surrender coming from his commander, a leader of men in the Hitori clan, it infuriates him and he backhands Patroclus. No retreat no surrender, that was what Musashi Hitori taught him all those years ago when he was brought into the folds of the clan. No he will not allow that. He must rally the men; show then the strength of the clan, the strength of themselves. With that thought Byrdi leaps lets out a whistle and then howling out like a bloodthirsty savage he leads a chaotic cavalry charge down the hill toward the advancing Kainith elf infantry. All around him are fireball explosions, spells whizzing in the air, trees shattering. Dirt flung up. The true sight of war. Byrdi’s brother, Bear, rides beside him. The wounded Sergeant Bolvive pulls himself up, and yells their battle cry. Patroclus remains cowering behind the stonewall. Carnage. Hitori and Kainith elf soldiers slam together, falling, drowning in mud and blood, stepped on by panicked horses. Byrdi wields his spear like a master, serving death on all sides. A soldier riding next to Bear is shot by a crossbow. A horse falls into a crater left by a fireball. Byrdi slices right and left with his spear. He is a truly gifted warrior. A tree branch knocks Bear from his horse. He sits, dazed, on the ground. Byrdi kills a Kainith elf soldier just as be is about to fire on him. Single-handedly, be rallies his men, screaming orders, then lifts his wounded brother onto the saddle beside him. He leads them downhill toward safely, Bear clinging to him for dear life.
Byrdi and his men gather in a copse of trees. They are giddy with the exhilaration of having survived.
“We did it, bro’, WE DID IT! Whoeeeee!!” Bear says with a shout of victory
Byrdi’s smile is short-lived, though. Suddenly, the woods erupt with a sound like thunder and roaring fire. Trees are shredded. Byrdi’s men are literally cut to pieces—Bear is riddled with smoking holes, his dead body shielding Byrdi from harm until he slides, lifeless, to the mud. Men and horses are torn apart—they contort and writhe in agony, jerking grotesquely as the spells rip into them. Byrdi frantically tries to locate the source of this firepower. Then he sees it, it is something he has never seen something like this before. Six rotating rods, one automatic hammer in back, and belts of coins all lined up ready to be fired. A man at its side turning a crank, turning spells out at a speed impossible to deflect or even dodge. A machine of horror and carnage like he has never dreamed of before.
With insane courage, he wheels and charges the machine. Spells rip into horse and rider alike. Byrdi falls, lifeless, into the mud. Once they are satisfied the Kainith elves stop their machine and move through the bodies. Taking everything. Once they are happy and sure that everyone is dead they move on. This is just another battle to them, and there are many others on the way. But Byrdi isn’t dead, if only he were that lucky. No. The wood elves near by had found him and help him back to health, using they own mages to undo the magical damage to his body.
Byrdi takes another drink of the milky green liquid and begins to sob. Sob for the loss of his men, his clan. Next to the journal are two letters, looking at them. He has read them over and over. The first was a letter telling him that his father died at the battle of Omashu at the hands of the Ghost. The second a letter almost identical, telling him of his brothers death, Nagamasa died in the north fighting for the Oda army. There is nothing here for him, all is lost. He reaches into the desk and takes out a thin deadly dagger. Stares at it for a moment letting the handle become warm in his hand. Then slowly he undoes his shirt and places the tip of the blade in the center of his torso, right at the edge of the sternum, a single upward thrust and it will all be over. And then, unaccountably, he is laughing. No matter how much he is trying, his body will not do his bidding and the knife moves no further.
“And why, after taking so many lives, do I find myself incapable of taking just one more?” He whispers to himself tears streaming down his face.
A knock on the door pulls him from his thoughts and he looks up. Who would call on him here, no one he knows is alive,
“Go away.” Byrdi shouts sure that it is one of the wood elves coming to check in on him, they know he has not been well.
“Not exactly the greeting I imagined.” Bolvive’s voice says from behind the door.
Byrdi looks up. He knows that voice. He carefully puts the knife back into the desk and shuts it before opening the door.
“Thought you’d seen the last of me, I expect.” Bolvive says at the sight of his old commander
At first Byrdi can think of nothing to say, he is in shock at the sight of Bolvive, he thought him dead at the last battle. Then without words the two embrace as brothers.
“Bolvive, sit please” He says breaking the embrace and sits at the desk, Bolvive taking a seat on the bed. Byrdi watches him take the seat on the bed and notices the pronounced limp.
“Got a job for you, a real job. Back in uniform.” Bolvive says cutting right to business. It is his nature being one of the elven barbarians of the north.
“I’ m retired.” Byrdi says looking away
“Bullshit” Bolvive says with a smile,
Byrdi looks hard at him and can’t help but smile, Bolvive knows him well, he is a soldier in and out, he will not be done tell he is dead.
An hour or so later Bolvive leads Byrdi into a lush restaurant. It is your typical wood elf restaurant with warm woods and smells of all kinds of food, in the corner a small band performs a soft soothing melody and a young woman sings a soft tune. The lights flicker showing trays of roasted meats and fish, even lobster. Patroclus sits with the three fully cloaked men. Patroclus’ hair has grayed. He is dressed in a more roman like attire with a light blue shirt and white toga over it. Tied in the middle with a golden sash. Seeing the way his is dress and knowing Patroclus as he does Byrdi can tell that he must have his eye on a political future.
“Patroclus” he says his voice one of shock and venom.
“Sit down. This is Sir Kage, from the east, and his two associates who, so far as I can tell, don’t have names…
The elf slowly puts his gloved hands up and pulls his hood back just enough for the men at the table to see his face. Everyone is shocked with the exception of the other two cloaked figures next to him. He is one of the mysterious eastern elves. His hair is a silver color and his eyes are purple in hue, his skin is black, as black as ink. Smiling slightly at the shock he lowers his hood once again so not to distract them.
“They’re looking to hire real American soldiers to create the first eastern Imperial Army.” Patroclus says shaking his head getting back into business after that shock.
Byrdi only looks at Patroclus not saying a word, then pours himself some whisky from a decanter sitting on the table.
“They got it in mind to become a civilized nation and they’re willing to spend what it takes to hire western experts to do the job right.” Patroclus says trying to move beyond the silence.
Byrdi only takes a slow lip of whiskey.
“Sergeant Bolvive has already agreed to serve. You would be my second-in-command.” Patroclus says not sure what to make of the awkward silence
“With approval from the Kainith elves, of course.” Byrdi says knowing that now after so many battles the Kainith elves control almost all the western elven kingdoms.
Both councils prefer to consider our mission unofficial. We’d be there as non-combatants only, advisors to the Salatar officers. Help them with training, ordinance and the like.” Patroclus says leaning back relaxing a bit.
“You ought to think about it. Captain.” Bolvive says looking at Byrdi, the last battle has changed him; he was daring and full of life. This man is bitter and hardened, trying to drink himself to death.
“I assure you Byrdi, you will be well paid for the benefit of your advice” Kage says his speech in Denerith elf is flawless.
Byrdi feels lost in the winds of change. All he wants to do is sit in his room and keep drinking tell he can get the courage to put that dagger in his chest. His father gone, his brothers gone, his whole clan vanished in to dust in the wind. But, to not at least go see the mysterious east when given the chance. He would be a fool. With that though he nods that he will go and everyone smiles. He then goes back to drinking and staring at the firelight as the others around him chatter about what needs done and ask questions on what to expect.
A huge ship with billowing sails makes its way across the great Pacific. Byrdi leans on the ship’s rail and looks out into an endless procession of waves. A dolphin crests the surface, arching into the air and then plunging back into the crystal blue water. All this beauty and peace is too much for him and slowly he makes his way to his cabin, the cabin is tiny but it is all he would need. He sits on the cot and listens to the sounds of the waves hitting the wood. His mind drifts to similar sound, not so long ago. He hears the voices of those now lost to him. It is the voice of Nagamasa,
“Don’t worry Bear, you’ll be at our brothers side the whole time. Besides someone has to save this lord Oda’s hide. If I’m lucky I’ll return with commission and can expand the Hitori clan even further in court,” he says as young Bear hugs his brother at the waist. Bear could be no more then 16 at best.
“Don’t go brother, what is the Oda war to us,” Bear says looking up at Nagamasa
“Trust in Byrdi, Byrdi, I’m trusting you to keep him alive. If something comes up write father, he is in the Kainith elf court, then write me,” he says and once Bear lets go he takes Byrdi’s arm at the elbow and pulls him into a hug.
“I know all this brother, and you have my word I shall look over him,” Byrdi says and scruffs bears hair a bit.”
In his memory he watches his older brother board the ship and watches it set sail for the great north. Shaking his head letting his memories fade to darkness once more he pulls out his journal and flips to an empty page.
‘It is impossible, standing here, not to appreciate one’s, own insignificance. Here there is neither past, nor future, only oblivion of water. And yet I ask myself, will the dead follow me across the ocean to this strange new land?’
He stares at the last few words, as there is a tap at his door. Slowly he gets up shutting his journal and walks to the door. It is Bolvive. Smiling he only nods and Byrdi walks with him across the ship to the main Cabin. Bolvive taps at the door but doesn’t wait for an answer and only walks in. In the cabin are Patroclus and Kage. When the two of them enter Bolvive sits right down at the table with them. But Byrdi however walks to a small bottle and glass at the bookshelf and pours himself a drink, he then sits down and begins to sip at it.
“After the Clans gave up power, the leaders, you would call them warlords knew that Islands needed a centralized government. So they asked the hereditary Emperor, His Highness the Enlightened Meiji, to lead the country.” Letting the three of them know a quick bit of history so that they know what they are going to be getting into.
“And these warlords just… gave up hundreds of years of power?” Byrdi says finding it hard to believe.
“Economic incentives were offered. Most provincial leaders saw the financial benefits of modernization.” Kage says looking hard at Byrdi; he will be the one to get on their side. He seems to have a greater grasp on what is going on and how to strategize.
“What about those that didn’t?” he says smiling, those there was a civil war, he is not surprised, there will always be those that feel the old ways are better.
“To deal with those who have resisted, the Emperor has decided to create an Army with allegiance only to him… We considered hiring advisors from Germany, but your Ambassador reminded us of your experience in suppressing rebellious elements in your Civil War.” he says sure that Byrdi has accepted that he is now part of the Kainith elf kingdom and he is talking about Mecmed bringing the elven nations together.
This evocation of the whole thing is not lost on Byrdi. He lets out a deep sigh. Twice his people had fought the Kainith elves and twice they had failed. The first time was when he was only a boy. His true family, the Unagi clan, is now scattered to the winds or possibly dead. And just recently when the Kainith elves broke the treaty after his father’s death and took the Hitori clan territory.
“Whom are we supposed to be fighting against?” Byrdi says letting the implication that he is happy about this slide past.
“His name is Bai Shi-zi. He is Vulkoori.” Kage says with a strict seriousness
“Vulkoori?” Byrdi asks having never heard the term before.
“The word you might use it “warrior”. But that does not quite capture it… Bai Shi-zi once served the Emperor but he is now a traitor who leads a band of traitors. He must be punished.” Kage says with fierceness in his eyes.
Byrdi looks at Bolvive wondering if there might be more to it, but now is not the time to bring it up. Nor is this there fight to analyze they are only here to train men to be an army.
“You told them about our experiences together, did you, Colonel?” Byrdi says almost snarling at Patroclus
“They know I was your commanding officer. Yes.” He says answering calmly.
Byrdi glares at him even harder and then stands, so he had managed to forget the part where he hid behind a wall as his men where cut to ribbons by some kind of new machine that the Kainith elves had developed. Forgot to mention that he took the cowards way out as he and his brother were riddled with spells, his men dying screaming out for their gods and crying for help.
“Excuse me, gentlemen. I need some air. I’m sure Patroclus can amuse you with more stories of patriotic gore.” Byrdi says snarling and walks out of the room.
“He is insolent.” Kage says disliking the idea of any lack of discipline in the ranks of an army.
“Get him in front of the troops, you’ll see. Born of the Unagi clan, Adopted son to Musashi Hitori. Brilliant tactician. Even wrote a book.” Patroclus says smiling like the true politician he is.
“Why did he leave your army?” Kage asks wondering why the Kainith elves would not use someone like him.
“What’s a hero to do when there’s no more great battles?” Patroclus replies shrugging his shoulders.
“Is that an evasive answer?” Kage says leaning closer, he doesn’t like politicians, and they all have their goals and are willing to say anything to achieve them.
“Sir, this man was left for dead. Doctors swore his heart had stopped beating, but before they could bury him, he came back to life. After the war he fought the Lyrandar elves, taking in with the c
lan that found him, fighting small skirmishes. Point him at the enemy. He was born for it.” Patroclus says knowing Byrdi’s skills and history. He is a fighter and killer. One of the few who can claim to be exactly that.
It is late at night and Byrdi wakes in the cramped space that is his cot. The dream is the same, it is always the same. The wagon of dead bodies, Byrdi’s eyes open to stare into the unblinking eyes of his brother, Bear, half his face burned off. He tries to move but be is buried beneath the weight of those piled on top of him. Blood drips down into his eyes and mouth, blinding and choking him. Always the same. Byrdi sits up taking long deep breaths before he notices a Silhouette in the doorway. He lets his eyes drift to the shadow and notices that it is Patroclus.
“I hope you realize the kind of second chance this is for you. I won’t tolerate insubordination.” Patroclus says growling like the commander he was, at least outside of battle
“Court-martial me.” Byrdi says in the simple ‘I don’t care’ tone of voice
“Would you rather I hadn’t recommended you for the medal. Byrdi? Is that it?” he says shaking his head. It didn’t matter how many heroisms he recommended him for in the Kainith elf army, he never showed up to claim them and the Kainith elves eventually gave up on him and brushed him off as a loose.
“We both know why you helped me, Colonel. Don’t expect me to go all weepy with gratitude.” Byrdi says snarling like a beast.
How dare he recommend anything for him? He hates the Kainith elves; they had cost him everything, he was happier with the wood elves, although true happiness would be forever lost.
“I expect you to do your job. Save the self-pity for your own time.” Patroclus says taking a long deep breath and walks out of the doorway.
Byrdi lies there for a while before finally getting up and walking up to the top deck. Once up there he can see that dawn is fast approaching and he also sees his friend Bolvive leaning against the rail. He chuckles and walks over leaning against the rail next to him.