“That would be nice.” I patted Zadok on the shoulder while turning from Batna. “C’mon, I’m starving.”
Walking down the rise, Zadok asked, “Are you all right, Pa? You’re acting more distant lately.”
Frowning, I said, “Sorry. Not meaning to.”
“No worries. It’s just . . . I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything too. All right?”
I studied him, once again amazed at how mature he could be at times and marveling that he was my son. Molak knew I didn’t deserve it.
I wasn’t exactly sure what Zadok was getting at, though I did have an idea based on how Ira and Damaris had been acting toward me. Ira especially reacted strangely to any negative comment I made. Given that Ava had expressed her worry over me before leaving, I wondered if she had passed her fears on to them.
Gods, I hoped not. It was hard enough to process on my own, let alone try to explain to prying friends.
Damaris nor Ira would burden Myra and Zadok with Ava’s suspicions, but my kids weren’t stupid. They picked up on changes in people’s behaviors like I did.
I threw my arm around him as we walked. There were some things a father would never feel comfortable sharing with his children. However, I couldn’t dismiss his concern. “Thank you, son. I’ll keep that in mind.”
* * *
Though we had not been involved in any conflict for a while, I still ran our group like a small militia. Old habits die hard, and the last thing I wanted was a lackadaisical attitude to come back to bite us. Everyone still had their duties—raising tents, tending to animals, examining the conditions of wagons, starting cook fires, prepping food for meals, and digging latrines.
A watch was set at the camp’s perimeter, rotating in four-hour shifts. Despite all the nightmares my time in the military brought me, I found great comfort in such organization.
I waved to one of the men on first watch as Zadok and I reentered camp. He kept to his post while scraping an empty bowl. I’d never let that pass in the military, but given the open land around us and the lack of immediate threats, I said nothing.
We exchanged a few pleasantries with others—nods and hellos while making our way to our fire. It wasn’t quite at the opposite edge of camp, but near enough. It was a personal choice of mine, though one I hadn’t vocalized. I had started the habit when nightmares woke me during the second Geneshan War. I figured the fewer questions, the better.
Ira sat on the ground between Reuma’s legs. She had her arms draped around him from behind as the two spoke with Myra and Damaris. Dinah and Boaz crouched nearby teaching their children Abigail and Nadav their letters by writing them in the dirt.
The comfort of everyone brought me a sense of peace.
I noticed Nason sitting away from the fire while watching his three kids play tag with others their age. He wore a smile, but there was sadness beneath it.
I asked Zadok to grab us some dinner. “I want to talk to Nason for a bit.”
“Sure, Pa,” he said, heading back to the center of camp.
Nason greeted me with a nod. “Tyrus.”
“Doing all right?” I asked, squatting beside him.
“Yeah. Just thinking about how blessed I am to still have them after all that’s happened.” He paused. “Their mother would be beside herself with how quickly they’re growing.”
“I was just thinking earlier how Zadok seems more of a man each day. It’s amazing how quickly they change.”
We both watched his kids run about, laughing and gesturing wildly.
After a moment, I said. “That was some goodbye you gave Ava.”
“I was wondering when you’d bring that up. Angry I kissed your sister?”
I laughed. “Nah, but Ava joked that I should kick your rear.”
He frowned.
“She wasn’t serious, Nason. You just took her off guard. Not sure what you told her, but it definitely gave her something to think about.”
He made a small grunt. “I guess that’s something. I kind of surprised myself. Told her that I had always loved her.”
I blinked. “Wow.”
Nason had already admitted that he had strong feelings for my sister when we were kids, and it had been obvious that they lingered to a certain extent. I couldn’t understand how they had deepened so quickly, especially given his love for his wife and the short amount of time since her death.
“Yeah. Part of me feels bad for dumping that on her before she left. And it also felt weird to tell her that because she isn’t my wife.”
I understood that completely, thinking about the feelings I had for Damaris. “You’re worried you’re betraying her memory.”
“No. It just felt weird because I had never put myself out there like that to another woman.” He met my eyes. “Loving someone else doesn’t mean that you have to forget another first.” He gestured to his children. “It’s like them. I had my oldest, Bara. And I loved her instantly. I didn’t think there was any way I could love another like I loved her. But then we had Cham and Ela. My love for them was just as strong as it was for Bara. I didn’t have to push Bara aside to make room for them.”
I had never considered things from that perspective.
He continued. “Besides, I knew my wife. She wouldn’t want me to be alone just to honor her memory. I hope I’m not overstepping myself, but I don’t think Lasha would feel any differently.”
He gave a light flick of his hand, barely perceptible. I followed it and noticed Damaris watching us. When she saw me notice her, she pretended to clean the dirt from her nails.
“Probably not,” I admitted.
“And still something holds you back.”
“I guess I’m just not ready.”
I appreciated Nason’s concern, but at the same time I was also getting tired of people suggesting that Damaris and I get together. Ava had come out and said it more than once, the kids had made several passing comments, and even Ira dropped hints. I knew everyone meant well, but at the same time their prodding didn’t make it any easier to heal the wound on my heart. The feelings I had for Damaris were difficult enough to consider without being reminded over and over about them from others.
Thankfully, Nason knew when to drop an issue. He said no more as we directed our attention back to the children. The older kids in the group had begun teaching songs to the younger ones. I tried to enjoy the moment, but found it difficult. I couldn’t help but feel sad at missing Myra and Zadok at those ages.
Gods, I hated war.
* * *
After dinner, my eyelids began to droop. I leaned back, allowing myself to succumb to my fatigue. The tension in my body lessened with the low drone of other conversations humming about.
A sharp increase in volume and a quick hush caused me to jump. I opened my eyes while craning my head in the direction of the voices. Reuma and Ira were the culprits, now locked into a bout of intense whispering.
I asked, “Is there something I need to be made aware of?”
Ira nudged Reuma in what appeared to be encouragement to speak.
Reuma gave Ira a dirty look. “Sorry. We didn’t mean to wake you. I was just telling Ira that I wondered if you had plans for strengthening Kasala’s defenses. But that can wait until morning. It’s obvious you’re tired.”
“No, it’s fine.” I sat up straighter as my head cleared. “I don’t have any plans yet. I didn’t want to get too far into thinking about that until I saw the city and what we’d be dealing with. Why?”
There was a pause and I caught Ira give her another gentle nudge.
Reuma cleared her throat. “Well, I was thinking that I’d like to take on that task.”
“Really? You want to be in charge of shoring up the town’s defenses?”
“I do.”
Everyone had changed since the eruptions, but
I don’t think any changed more than Reuma. I still remember pulling her from the crumbled debris that had once been the Soiled Dove. It was hard to imagine that the former prostitute had become one of the best soldiers I had in my group.
“I don’t see why not. It would be one less thing for me to worry about. How about we decide on a plan together, then it’ll be all yours to execute?”
Her face brightened. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
Reuma’s comment got my mind rolling in a good way, thinking about infrastructure, logistics, organization, and so on. It was a welcome change as I found the more present-day things I occupied myself with, the less likely my mind would drift to the atrocities of my past.
Noticing that others around the fire had ended their exchanges to listen in on mine with Reuma, I took advantage of my rolling thoughts and expanded the conversation.
“The council mentioned that most of the other towns near Kasala were abandoned except for one a couple days to the north named Sinsca. Sinsca suffered losses like everyone else, but they never left to find refuge in Batna, even after the council encouraged them to.”
Ira chimed in, “Gotta admire them for that.”
I looked to Chadar and Galya. “What do you two know about the place?”
Galya said, “The town was about half the size of Kasala. And it also borders the river. The journey between them took a day by boat. A little over two days if traveling by land. They were more of a farming community than Kasala. We passed through Sinsca more often because the river branches off in several directions nearby.”
Chadar nodded. “Besides using those tributaries as a faster source of travel, the people of Sinsca worked them with nets and traps. They traded their catches as well as their crops”
“How were they personally?” I asked.
Galya shrugged. “Good people as most in the Southern Kingdoms are. Cordial. Helpful. Honest. Their mayor led them well. Duna was his name. Not sure if he is still in that role though.”
The fire we sat around crackled as if punctuating her statement. Despite the differences in appearance, background, and accents, Chadar and Galya had become so much a part of our group over the last few months that it was easy for me to forget that this wasn’t starting a new life in a new land for them. This was a return home to something much different than what they had left. I recalled returning to Denu Creek after the Geneshan War and found it easy to empathize.
I pushed those memories aside. No good would come from them.
“I’d like you and Chadar to visit Sinsca. It would be good to establish a relationship with them as soon as possible. Perhaps we can help each other. I’d like to know who’s in charge, as well as what their population is, food stores are, defenses are, and any interactions they might have had with others in the Southern Kingdoms. Also, we need to learn if they’ve had any dealings with Byzan or remnants of the Geneshan Empire. There’s no such thing as too much information.”
“We’ll leave immediately after reaching Kasala,” said Galya. I could see her mind working behind her eyes as she thought of a plan to gather such information.
“I’ll assign a squad to accompany you.”
“That might not be the best idea.”
“Why?”
“You want to emphasize peace and trade. Bringing armed men will only do the opposite.”
“I’d rather have you spend an extra five minutes explaining the squad’s presence than risk getting attacked on the road because you have no protection.” I looked over to Damaris. “Can you do me a favor?”
She blinked at the sudden shift in conversation. “What do you need?”
“I’ve seen your handwriting. It’s far nicer than anyone else I know. Do you think you could copy the charter the council gave us with some of the parchment we purchased in Batna?”
She smiled. “Of course.”
I paused, lingering on that smile. She was a beautiful woman, though that wasn’t what necessarily gave me the pause. It was the warmth her smile generated. Lasha’s smile used to make me feel the same.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to work on it whenever we stop to rest as the roads are too rough to attempt copying on a moving wagon.”
“That’ll be more than enough time.” She studied the night sky. “Between the light of the moon and the fire, I could start now.”
I suddenly felt guilty for asking. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know. But it makes sense.” She stood and made eye contact with my son. “Zadok, do you want to watch me work?”
He wore a look of confusion. “I already know my letters.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to practice your handwriting on scraps while I copy the main charter. Besides, I could use the company.”
He gave a small shrug of indifference. “All right. Sure.”
I watched them leave, amazed at how easy she had spoken to Zadok. With just a simple prodding, she had convinced him to do school work while others relaxed. Earlier, I had noticed Damaris laughing with Myra in a private conversation.
It seemed like ages ago, but when I first understood that Damaris had feelings for me, I worried how my kids would react to the news. Nearly a year ago, Myra had admitted that she and Zadok were not ready for me to remarry, but if they had a choice in the matter, Damaris would be it.
I had not fully realized that until watching her leave with Zadok. Damaris had bonded with my children right under my eyes. They had yet another strong woman to look up to, just like their Aunt Ava and Lasha had been.
I should have found happiness at such a revelation given my own feelings for Damaris, but the tightening in my chest took away that contentment. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was betraying Lasha. Somehow letting her down.
CHAPTER 11
Located in the western district of Batna, Ava stood under a cloudy sky at one end of the military’s training ground. The eighty Turine volunteers stood more than fifty feet behind her and watched. She could feel their restlessness mimicking her own as they waited for her evaluation to begin.
Gods, does this test begin with patience?
Four three-story barracks bordered the area, housing the city guard. All but one of those barracks stood empty thanks to the artifact’s effects and resulting death toll, as well as the commitment of troops to the war in the northeast.
Scattered around the training ground were a series of targets at various distances. Three men finished inspecting those targets before approaching her. The Speaker of the council was one. The other two men were military advisors to the council. Captain Olabisi was to remain in the city. Captain Kamau was to lead Ava, her men, and a small number of reinforcements to Jumla Danso to the battlefield in the north.
Kamau had been part of the strategy meetings Ava and Tyrus had with the council. Olabisi had not. From what she had gathered, it was his way to protest the council’s decision to allow Tyrus and so many other able-bodied men to avoid military service.
“Are we going to stand around all day or begin?” Olabisi hissed, his words whistling as they passed through a gap in his front teeth. “Jumla Danso will be upset once he learns what we lost.”
“Are you implying that Danso will speak ill of the council’s decision?” asked the Speaker in a deadpan tone.
Olabisi sputtered an apology. “No, Speaker. I beg your pardon. It’s just that I imagine he will be disappointed to learn that he could have bolstered his ranks by an additional four hundred.”
“I think he will be more pleased to see an additional eighty experienced soldiers accompany the three hundred soldiers Kamau will take to him.”
Olabisi lowered his head. “Yes, Speaker.”
“Plus, we now have a high mage to add to our forces.”
“If she has any skill that will be of use. Sorcerers have a tendency to embellish their talents. For all we know, th
e display you spoke of was nothing more than show.”
Ava had enough. “Hey idiot, do you realize I’m standing right here?”
Olabisi sputtered. It sounded worse with the whistle. “You dare speak to a superior officer with such insolence?”
She mocked him in return, feigning offense. “You dare act like a mule?”
Olabisi’s jaw dropped. Ava expected the Speaker to defend the captain, but instead he guffawed.
“Let’s just get started,” said Captain Kamau, finally adding his deep voice to the conversation with a weary tone.
“I agree,” said the Speaker.
Ava asked, “What am I supposed to do then?”
Kamau said, “Simply dispense of the targets as quickly and as creatively as possible.
“That’s it? Done,” said Ava.
In one fluid motion, her right arm shot up. With it, dozens of small pebbles rose to waist height off the ground. She thrust her arm forward, and the pebbles raced toward the targets. There was little sound as they passed through hay and cloth. However, the cracking of wood at the back of the targets echoed across the training ground.
Before the sound ceased, a red ball of fire formed in the palm of her open left hand. She threw the fire at the closest target, setting it ablaze. In her right palm, a ball of blue flame formed. The choice of color was partly for show, but it also indicated a higher concentration of heat. It struck the next closest target, and burned so quickly that even the wood became little more than blackened embers.
Ava heard mutterings behind her, but she chose not to pay attention to them. She wasn’t done. She had a wealth of spells to draw from thanks to her time in the military, but some were better suited to showcasing her power.
She raised both hands overhead and brought them together in one large fist. The clouds that hung over the training ground darkened. She slammed her arms down. A bright streak of white lightning descended. It split into half a dozen smaller branches, each striking a target and disintegrating them into thousands of pieces.
Forever Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Four Page 5