Brave Men Die: Part 3

by Dan Adams

‘Cygnus won’t look after our men. He doesn’t like us and it shows with how he treats any of the Buckthorne soldiers when they are on the wall. He gets Ara to support his men but not ours. He has even told the doctors to aid his men first. If he is left in charge none of us will be going back home.’

  Pollux ran his hands through his hair, pulled his head back and sighed. He knew Cygnus was favouring his own troops, but he just kept putting off the confrontation because he knew what it would lead to. He didn’t want to be running the show but there was no one else. Not now that Cronos was gone, Byrn had lost his nerve, and everyone else was dead.

  ‘I’ll support your claim for leadership. We could take it by force if necessary. The Fists will support you, hell, all of Buckthorne will support you. You are the best chance we’ve got of surviving this.’

  ‘Taking anything by force is ridiculous. There is no point us killing each other when the enemy are more than willing to do it. We need as many men on the walls as possible to keep the Kyzantines out of the Kingdom.’

  ‘Look Pollux, I don’t want to die because of him, okay.’

  ‘I’ll think about it, and I’ll let you know as soon as I’m ready.’

  ‘That’s all I’m asking. Otherwise I will kill him, and you can have it that way.’

  Octans stalked off, his shoulders slightly slumped, mingling amongst the men. Pollux didn’t need this shit now, he had enough to worry about. He turned his attention to the walls, saw the familiar silhouette of Ara staring out toward the enemy, and his heart went out to her. While they were burying his battle brothers today, she had mourned Daria as well.

  Pollux climbed the stairs slowly. He didn’t know what to say and he dreaded the thought of making a fool of himself. Creeping softly along, he didn’t want to disturb her but then thought better of it — he didn’t want to startle her and make her cast. He let his footfalls echo slightly against the stones and her frame twitched slightly, signalling that she was aware of his presence.

  He pulled up beside her, leaned forward and rested his forearms against the stonework, and looked over the battlefield. Ara was standing on the wall where Daria had crashed into the earth in some magical self-destructing storm and blown the enemy away. It was there that Ara landed and saved his life. Pollux owed both women more than he could ever say.

  ‘It doesn’t get any easier with time,’ Pollux muttered, staring at the enemy who were still collecting the dead from the scorched earth.

  ‘Why would you say something like that?’

  ‘It’s the truth. My father died when I was five. I still miss him. He was the reason I became a soldier. I can’t remember his face, but I remember him. It sounds stupid I know, but I remember the idea of him and I know that I miss that idea, that feeling when he was around.’

  ‘Daria was my teacher — my mother really. I haven’t seen my birth parents since I was selected to go to the Academy, but Daria looked after me. Daria treated me like her child, she didn’t have any of her own that I knew of. She punished me when I was bad, praised me when I did something right.

  ‘I got into dimensional magic because of her. It was her life and it soon became mine. Daria was so proud of me when I passed my tests and moved higher up in the circles, her tuition was what helped. I’m stronger than her you know … I mean stronger than she was … but I never let on that I knew, never tried to openly flaunt that extra power. I didn’t want her to know that she wasn’t the superior, the teacher anymore.’

  ‘I’m sure she would have been proud of you if you did. Daria cared for you, and when you care for someone you don’t care if they are better, you just care if they are safe.’

  ‘You’re right you know. Now I will regret not showing her what I could do.’

  ‘Show her now, show her everyday for the rest of your life, and be the best person that you can be.’

  Ara looked at him then and the world seemed to stop. Wrapping her arms around him, Ara nestled her head against his chest.

  ‘Will you help me?’ Ara asked.

  ‘Anytime you need me.’

  ‘How can you say that? You said that with such honesty and conviction but …’

  ‘As long as you’re here and I’m here, I will look out for you. Ara, I’m responsible for your safety, just like all the men here from Buckthorne. I smile when I get off the wall and I know you are okay. As long as you’re okay I know I’ve done something right. Even if I don’t want to be in charge, it looks like I am.’

  Ara looked at him, her eyes begged him to explain.

  ‘I became a sergeant because the last man died. I became captain of the Fists when Kryst died because there was no one else. Then Cronos died and Byrn broke. That left me.

  ‘Now Octans wants me to take charge of everything. He doesn’t trust Cygnus to look after the best interests of the Buckthorne men and I have to agree with him. I never wanted this. I was going to Sarkridge to become a sword master, and instead I ended up on the battlefield in charge of these men. I don’t see any other option than me right now, to take charge of Black Claw. It’s me or it’s Cygnus, and at least with me I know that I’ll do my best to get all of these men home safely.’

  ‘I guess we both have our problems and some high expectations to live by.’

  ‘You got my back, I got yours. Sound fair?’ Pollux asked.

  ‘Sure. Your sword, my magic. Now shut up and kiss me.’

  Ara pulled his face down toward hers, her lips pressed tightly against his before Pollux’s hands grabbed hold of her waist and he pulled the feisty mage to his body.

  CHAPTER TEN

  It was another simmering summer night and the southerly Buckthorne had been expecting was late. Past midnight, and Gerard was sweltering at his post on the northern wall. It had been a long day and it wasn’t over yet. Murray was a right bastard.

  Gerard had done his first shift with the captain earlier on during the day, started in the morning like usual since his appointment. But Murray was doing the rosters for punishment and his favourite thing at the moment was making sure Gerard had back-to-back shifts. At least it gave him something to do while he wasn’t sleeping.

  The sky was clear, and looking up he easily found the Lion and the Soldier blazing in the night. The moon was near full and illuminated the fields to the north where they expected the first signs of trouble to appear. At this time of night, it wouldn’t be their men moving out there, it would be someone trying to breach the walls.

  He could see miles to the north and at times he honestly thought he could hear the sound of battle drift toward him. Gerard knew they were just phantom noises; even on nights like this, when everything was still and quiet, there was no way those sounds would carry over the distance.

  The Callisto Mountains were perched on the horizon, spanning from east to west as far as he could see. The others swore they could see the campfires of the Buckthorne troops lighting the night sky, but Gerard could see nothing of the sort. Even from the wall he couldn’t see the entrance to the passes and the mountains themselves blocked any clear line of sight. More phantoms.

  Despite those claims Gerard was hoping they would still see the enemy coming. They couldn’t be that blind. There were leagues of open ground to see the banners of the enemy marching across toward them. But they were a long way off from that. The Kingdom would march to the mountains and put a stop to it all there. If he didn’t keep telling himself that, only the gods knew what kind of fears would creep in.

  The footsteps of armoured men landed heavily on the stone and echoed along the wall. Gerard didn’t turn. He kept his focus on the north. The three were approaching him — Gerard had had a long time to familiarise himself with the sound of armed men. They were heavyset, one taller than the others and he was walking on the left. The man on the right was sloppy, a loose metal ring on his scabbard was clinking against his armour. The third walked with a hurried, pompous stride. His sense of purpose suggested he was a man of authority.

  Gods he needed to find hims
elf a hobby.

  He glanced to his right: three heavyset men, the one in the middle a long stride in front and a right arse. Gerard sighed at the sight of Murray and his shoulders slumped as he returned to his vigil on the north. He hoped that they would walk on by but the footsteps up on the wall never lied and Gerard could hear them slow.

  ‘Shift’s over Morgan, get off the wall,’ ordered Murray.

  Gerard looked over him suspiciously. There was a hint of frustration under his usual tone of disappointment and Murray was doing his best not to meet his gaze, preferring to look out over the wall. ‘I’m meant to be up here all night,’ Gerard said.

  Murray inhaled deeply and clawed his bottom lip with his teeth before slowly turning to face him. The pained expression on his face told Gerard he really didn’t want to be telling him anything. ‘Captain didn’t want his pet having to do a triple shift.’

  ‘That’s nice of him.’

  So the captain had finally found out and had decided to do something about it. Gerard certainly wasn’t thrilled, he had enough problems with Murray trying to fuck around with his roster. The captain’s interference could make things worse. The captain expected him in his office at seven every morning and Murray had him on the wall from ten til four. Say goodbye to those three hours of sleep.

  He shrugged his shoulders and walked past Murray toward the burning fires in the guardhouse. Gerard didn’t turn round despite the feeling he got that Murray would prefer to push him over the edge.

  He nodded to the watchmen stationed at the guardhouse before descending the stairs that lead into the town’s northern quarter. He should have headed for the barracks, got himself some food and went to bed. Instead, he followed his feet and found himself wondering toward the keep, slowly, in the middle of the empty streets.

  The magi’s unexpected visit plagued his sleep. Up until then he had managed to live a very simple life, one that hadn’t involved magic of any sort, and had managed just fine. Now they were appearing in his sleep, trying to knock down the gates and burn them all alive. It was the old woman’s face that scared him, the way it contorted as the magic danced along her fingertips. Gerard was waking drenched in sweat four or five times a night until he would usually drag himself from his bed and up onto the roof of the barracks. He’d set himself up with a chair and he’d take up whatever book the captain had leant him and a coffee, and just sit and read until the morning. It was better than sleeping. Dying in agony as the old woman’s magic consumed his flesh was not a pleasant way to go; he’d never managed to remember his dreams before but these memories were vivid.

  Still aimlessly walking while his mind tried to make sense of his dreams, he wasn’t startled to look up and discover the captain’s home. He hadn’t been looking for it, not consciously, but it represented safety, a new beginning and someone he didn’t want to fail. There were no lights on inside the house, no silhouettes passing by the windows. It was late, they had no reason to be up. The captain would have come home exhausted, his wife in bed beside him, and Mia … she had no reason to stay up waiting for him.

  This wasn’t where he wanted to be now, or where he was needed. He dragged his feet as he left, unsure of where he was headed and found himself going through the market district. At this hour it was empty, no people, no merchants, nothing. He kept his head down as he walked, watching his feet take every step, worried where he might end up this time.

  After some time he was back at the barracks and he went in search of the captain’s office and the cupboard of alcohol he kept in there along with the privacy from the other watchmen. Tonight he didn’t feel like their company or their snoring. Alone with his thoughts, just how he dreaded it but needed it all the same these days. Gerard noticed a light coming from the captain’s office and shrugged it off as something Tobias had forgotten to extinguish when he left. He walked quietly to the cupboard like a thief in the night, pulled out the bottle of bourbon, poured himself a glass, and sat down in the outer office.

  ‘You shouldn’t drink alone Gerard,’ the captain said as he came out of his office, ‘Especially from my personal stash.’

  The captain looked tired, the dark bags under his eyes, ruffled hair — like he had been running his hands through it — and his eyes were red from the strain of keeping them open. Gerard knew he would never admit to it, he still looked organised, groomed and tidy, but it had been sixteen hours since he had started that morning.

  ‘Sorry sir.’ His eyes dropped to the glass in his hand, untouched since he poured it. The amber liquid swirled as it tilted ever so slightly, a small tremor in his grip.

  ‘Don’t worry about it.’ The captain poured himself a glass. ‘You’re here very early for your shift.’ It was more of a statement then a question, but by the way Tobias leaned back against the cupboard, his legs crossed at the feet, he expected a response.

  ‘I came from the wall,’ Gerard replied between sips, thinking about exactly how much he should reveal. ‘My feet led me here in the end.’

  ‘The end?’ the captain asked, having lowered his drink from his lips.

  ‘It’s … nothing. You’re still here.’

  ‘Reports arrived from Black Claw before dinner that needed attending to. And before you worry I went home and had dinner with the wife and Mia and came back before starting them.’

  ‘Is there anything you need help with?’

  ‘It’s just some paperwork. Sit, finish your drink.’

  ‘Gerard, you still out there?’

  ‘I’m right here captain,’ Gerard answered, entering from the adjoining room next to his office, his first unfinished bourbon still in hand.

  ‘Remember, you can call me Tobias when it’s just you and me in the office.’

  ‘Right captain,’ Gerard said with a grin. ‘Tobias.’

  The captain just shook his head. ‘I’ve changed my mind, you might as well give me a hand here, means I can go home and get into bed a lot faster if you read half of these.’

  Gerard nodded and sat down opposite the captain at his desk. He took the offered reports and scanned the pages. ‘Why are you still here when you have somewhere else to be?’ Gerard asked, not looking up from the reports.

  ‘Duty. My wife understands, painfully. She knows that I’ll come home when the work is done and not before. Just like my boys. She hates that they take after me, but they do, there’s no changing it, and they will come home when it’s done.’

  Gerard noticed the reluctant smile on the man’s face, the hurt behind his words. His boys would come home when it was done or not at all. He would grieve in this office and nowhere else, and then he would go home to his wife and be strong for her and never let her see he was hurting more than her.

  Gerard didn’t want the captain dwelling on the subject of his boys not coming home. ‘How has the recruitment been going?’ Gerard asked.

  It was a contentious issue. The reservists had left for Black Claw three weeks ago to replace the dead and wounded, taking fresh supplies. That left the watch solely responsible for the security of the city. And the baroness’ personal guard in the keep.

  Since the army had left, the baroness had summoned the captain to the keep to discuss security details, recruitment, training, and any other little problem. She expected the captain to solve all her problems. Even Gerard knew it was impossible, but the captain still had to figure it out.

  ‘Have you sent out those orders Gerard?’

  ‘Yesterday. The watch have gone door to door. All children between six and ten have gone to the fletchers, the bakers, or brewers. Any child over ten has been summoned to start training with a blade except those who have shown some skill, and those have been moved to the blacksmiths.

  ‘Once they have been trained the fourteen-year-olds join the watch for a year and from the age of fifteen they join the ranks of the reservists and head for the gate.’

  There was a moment of silence as Gerard finished. He had read the same report as Tobias, read the instructions that
the baroness had passed on to be enforced. She believed this war wouldn’t be solved by the end of summer and felt that they needed to start preparing as young men were being butchered in the mountains defending their home.

  ‘Fuck, what have I done Gerard?’

  ‘You’ve done what you have been told to do sir. The baroness wants Buckthorne protected and she wants fighters at Black Claw to replace the wounded and the dead. I don’t see that you had any choice in the matter.’

  ‘Feels like I’ve sentenced an entire generation to their deaths.’

  Gerard agreed with him but wasn’t stupid enough to say so aloud. That was the last thing he needed right now. The silence stretched between them.

  The captain shook his head and carelessly threw the reports down onto the cluttered tabletop, leaning back on his chair and pulling his fingers through his hair.

  ‘Bugger the work tonight Gerard, all the problems will be waiting for us in the morning.’ The captain reached for his glass of bourbon, abandoned earlier to the pile of paperwork, and slammed down the remnants of his drink.

  ‘Sounds like a plan, Tobias.’

  They left the office in silence. Walking the streets they passed a patrol and each man nodded in turn and muttered some kind of greeting. They kept walking, seemingly going nowhere, until the captain turned left and entered a door. It took a moment for Gerard to realise that they were out the front of the Crossed Swords.

  He held the door open, waiting. ‘Come on lad, the ale won’t wait forever.’

  Gerard hurried in after him. It was pretty much empty, a few old men in the corners, undeterred by the curfews. The captain half waved to the bartender and he smiled in recognition, moving away from drying mugs with the towel in his hand to pouring two mugs from the keg behind him.

  Following the captain straight to the bar, Gerard pulled out a stool and adjusted the blade at his waist to get comfortable. Before he could open his mouth to order a drink, the bartender plonked a mug and a shot in front of both of them.

  The captain indicated for him to pick up the shot first, clinked the glasses together and swallowed his in one gulp. Gerard followed suit. He shook his head as it burnt going down.