by B N Miles
“Kill him,” Miuri said.
Cam frowned and stared at her for a long moment. She didn’t smile, didn’t blink. She wasn’t joking. Miuri wouldn’t joke about something like that.
“You really think that’s the right thing?” he asked.
“You need control right now,” Miuri said. “We’re so close, but if more men began to push against you, things might spiral away. You can’t risk it. This is bigger than one man’s life.”
“And that man is a traitor,” Felin said.
“Still. You’re talking about killing someone.” Cam searched Miuri’s expression for some hint of what she was feeling, but found nothing.
“I know this is hard for you,” Miuri said. “You didn’t intend to get involved in politics. But now’s the time to show a firm hand. Step forward and be a leader. Show the men you won’t tolerate a traitor, show them the right way.”
Cam took a deep breath and looked down at the rug covering the dusty ground. He didn’t want Lagon’s blood on his hands, didn’t want any Human blood on his hands. Killing Lord Remorn had been hard enough, but that was in the heat of the moment.
This was cold and calculated.
It made him want to retch. He held himself together. He knew that Miuri was right, he knew that Felin was right. The army was a pack and Cam was its alpha. He had to show strength if he wanted to retain his position.
Lagon defied him. Lagon got men killed.
And so Lagon had to be held accountable for his actions.
“Let me think,” Cam said.
Miuri nodded. “Think all you like. I need to bathe myself and get some rest.” She stretched her legs then stood.
“Want a hand?” Felin asked. “I’d be happy to get your back.”
“I’ll take you up on that,” Miuri said. “But you’ll have to catch me up on everything that’s gone on. I only heard the rough story from the guards outside.”
Felin hopped to her feet. Miuri got up, and the two girls walked to Cam’s tent flap. Felin ducked out into the morning, but Miuri hesitated and looked back at Cam.
“No matter what you do, I know you’ll do what you think is right,” she said. “And I’ll support it.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“I love you, Camrus.”
She ducked her head and left the tent.
Cam looked at the table. He ran his fingernails down the wood and wanted to scream in rage.
This was never his intention. The idea of holding on to power through force made him despise everything. The world shouldn’t work that way.
But he knew it did.
Force determined everything. And if Cam could bring enough force to bear, he could break just about any obstacle in his path.
The wolves, his own men. He could break them all.
But first, he had to be ready to accept some hard truths.
He hoped he could.
29
The light was dim in the command tent as Cam stood at the head of the table. His Generals stared back at him. Brice looked concerned, her head tilted, her hair loose and around her shoulders. Theus picked at his nails. Key drank beer from a large wooden mug. Felin lingered in the back with her arms crossed over her chest.
Infantry captains, general staff, Generals left over from the old guard. They watched him and he watched them back, trying to find the words he so desperately needed.
“Thank you all for coming,” Cam said. “I know the marches have been difficult these last few days.”
“Wolves won’t get off our ass,” Key said.
“But you’ve done a good job killing them at least,” Stine said. He was Lagon’s replacement, a willow-thin man with a drooping mustache and a head of gray hair.
“We’ve all done a good job killing them,” Colly said. He was a young Captain with a bright red tunic and the copper-colored hair to match it.
“The wolves have been a minor problem,” Cam said. “Compared to the difficulties of marching and the insurrection within our own camp.”
Cam noticed the discomfort around him. Even Key shrank down a bit.
“Sir, we’ve been speaking with the men,” Captain Frant said. He was one of the more reliable Captains, and had been working closely with Key. “There are some grumblings about the way things were handled.”
“What things, in particular?” Cam asked.
“They don’t believe they should be persecuted for their beliefs,” Frant said. “According to them, at least, sir.”
“They’re not,” Cam said. “Every man is free to believe as he wishes. But it’s when those beliefs get in the way of the smooth operation of this army that those beliefs become a problem.”
Captain Frant nodded. “I understand, sir,” he said. “But I’m not sure the men do.”
“I’m glad you brought their concerns to my attention,” Cam said. His eyes swept over the assembled general staff. He worked to keep his face tight and under control, but inside he was a mess of conflicted emotions. “I called this meeting today to discuss the future of the former General Lagon.”
More exchanged glances. Cam couldn’t tell if they were pregnant with rebellion or simple discomfort at the awkwardness of the whole situation.
“What are you thinking?” Key asked. “Are you going to banish him from the army?”
“That’s a death sentence,” Brice said.
“Not necessarily,” Frant said. “Lagon’s resourceful. He could survive it.”
“His wounds are too bad,” Brice said. “He won’t make it two days before the wolves catch him. He won’t make it five before the wounds take him to the Ur if the wolves don’t.”
“Banishment won’t do anything to quiet the men,” Stine said. “If the General really wishes to send a message, he should execute the prisoner.”
Cam watched the faces around him carefully. Some seemed to nod in agreement, some seemed like that was the most absurd thing they’d ever heard.
“Execution might be going too far,” Colly said.
“Not far enough, if you ask me,” Key said. “Banish him, kill him, who cares? He’s a traitor. Let’s get rid of him, quiet all the grumblings, and worry about the wolves.”
“Easy for you to say,” Colly said. “You’re busy fighting every day. You’re barely paying attention to anything else.”
“Damn right,” Key said, slamming her palm on the table. “While the rest of you bicker and moan, me and my men are fighting on the rearguard.”
“Enough,” Cam said before Colly could argue. The young Captain’s cheeks glowed red with indignation, and Cam didn’t need another stupid fight to distract him from his goal. “I’ve reached a decision concerning Lagon.”
The room fell silent. Cam composed himself and took a long, deep breath. He caught Felin’s eye and nodded. She slipped out the back and disappeared outside.
“Lagon is a traitor,” Cam said. “If he had stayed under arrest, nothing bad would have happened. I planned on holding him until all this was over, then releasing him. I wouldn’t kill a man simply because of his beliefs, even if those beliefs were spreading discord and distrust within my ranks.”
“But you would kill a traitor,” Brice said, her eyes narrowed.
“Lagon put men in danger,” Cam said. “Men died because of his selfish actions. And I can’t stand by and allow that sort of thing to go unpunished. Banishment is a death sentence, but it isn’t enough. No, Lagon deserves worse, and he’s going to get it from my blade.”
Cam could see the stunned reactions. Even Key seemed surprised.
“You plan on killing him, sir?” Colly asked. “Yourself?”
“I plan on executing a traitor,” Cam said. “Right now, out in the yard.”
“Right now?” Frant stood up. “Sir, you can’t mean—”
“Sit down, Captain,” Cam said, staring him down.
Frant slowly sank back into his seat.
“Felin is fetching Lagon as we speak,” Cam said. “When he arrives, I’ll
read the charges against him, pronounce him guilty, and hand down the sentence myself. I want you all to watch, and I want as many of your men as you can bring to watch. I want you all to understand what this means. I will not accept traitors. I will not accept dissent. We are days away from the most important battle of our lives, and any whisper of malcontent will be dealt with. We need to act as one if we have any hope of defeating the wolves.”
His words hung in the air heavy. Cam gripped the pommel of his sword and stared down at his general staff. Their faces were serious, some shocked, some dire, some accepting. But none smiled, and Cam knew they all understood the gravity of what would happen.
There was a commotion out in the yard. Felin appeared at the entrance with Arter lingering behind her.
“We’re ready,” she said.
Cam nodded and strode around the table.
The Generals stared at him.
“Come,” he said as he reached the flap and lingered at the threshold. It was a cool, beautiful afternoon. The sun shone bright. The sky was a splash of intense blue. Fluffy clouds drifted.
Cam was going to kill a man.
The Generals followed as he stepped outside. Lagon stood in a circle of Felin’s guard at the center of the yard.
He looked terrible. He was ragged, exhausted, his clothes stained with blood, his eyes red and ringed with black bags. Cam thought he could kill the man with a hard breath if he wanted.
The Generals spread out behind him. Cam turned and motioned at Frant.
“Bring witnesses,” he said. “Go now.”
Frant hesitated then stalked off.
Cam turned back toward Lagon and walked forward. Lagon stood as straight as he could, though he swayed to the side. A guard steadied him with an arm on his elbow. Cam couldn’t tell if the gesture was meant as a comfort.
“Lagon,” Cam said. “You’re here to stand judgement.”
“I won’t be judged,” Lagon said. “You can say your words. You can speak your piece. I took my shot and I lost. But I won’t be judged.”
“You’re accused of treason,” Cam said. “You resisted arrest, broke out of confinement, and marched a group of men away from the army. Your actions resulted in deaths that could have been avoided. Your actions endangered this army and everyone within it. Do you deny that?”
“I deny it,” Lagon said. “I got ambushed by wolves. I got unlucky.”
Cam was dimly aware of bodies filtering in around his peripheral vision. Frant gathered soldiers and stood them in a ring around the yard. The men murmured to each other, stomped their feet on the grass, shifted and itched and coughed.
The sky still shone. The blue was almost breathtaking.
“But you don’t deny spreading false rumors about the godlings,” Cam said. “You don’t deny taking a group of men away from the army. You don’t deny turning your back on the people that needed you the most.”
Lagon spit on the ground. It was a thick dark-yellow glob.
“I spread truth,” he said. “I led men that wanted to be led. I’d do it again if I could.”
Cam nodded. “Then I pronounce you guilty of treason,” he said.
Lagon grinned. “Banishing me, then? Sending me away? You never did have the guts for—”
“The sentence for treason is death,” Cam said, and drew his blade.
There was a long, low murmur from the surrounding men. More bodies packed around them. Cam saw Arter push some back with the shaft of his spear.
What was left of the color in Lagon’s face drained away.
“You’re going to kill me?” he asked. “Banishing me is death enough. I was still a General. This was my army. I only did what I thought was necessary.”
“The sentence for treason is death.” Cam said, pitching his voice louder. He reached for his magic and let the flame run down its blade.
He had to send a message.
Fear spiked in Lagon’s eyes. Cam could see the flames reflected in his expression as he stepped forward.
“Kneel,” Cam said.
“You can’t be serious,” Lagon said. “You can’t be—”
The guard holding Lagon’s elbow kicked the back of his knees. Lagon fell forward with a grunt. He hit the ground hard and caught himself before he dropped flat on the grass.
His neck craned up. Cam stepped forward as the guards fell back.
The world was hushed. Clouds drifted in front of the sun. Shadows slipped across Lagon’s face.
“Last words,” Cam said.
“I did what I thought was right,” Lagon said. “Please, you can still banish me.”
“The sentence is death.” Cam gripped his flaming sword in both hands. Lagon’s eyes closed tight and he tilted his head forward, presenting the back of his neck.
“Make it fast,” Lagon said.
Cam brought his sword down as hard as he could. The super-heated blade sliced through skin, muscle, sinew, and bone. Lagon’s head hit the ground with a soft thump and rolled a few feet away. Lagon’s body pitched sideways.
There wasn’t much blood. Cam’s fire cauterized the wounds.
The clouds drifted away from the sun and light came flooding back.
Cam released his magic. He stared at the severed head. The eyes stared back, blank and unseeing.
He felt sick as he held his blade to the side, waiting for it to cool.
“Bury him,” Cam said as loud as he dared. He feared his voice was going to break at this crucial moment. “Bury him, and make sure the rest of the army understands what happens to traitors.”
Cam looked around. Key stared back, her expression blank. Brice looked sad as she tugged at her hair.
“The real enemy is out there,” Cam said. “The wolves are coming. The fight is coming. And if we let men like Lagon spread deceit, dissent, and outright lies meant to break us apart, we will lose. But if we stand together for what’s right, if we do the hard work, if we step up and fight, then we can live through this. We can see our children grow and have children of their own.” Cam flicked his sword and slid it into its sheath. “This was never going to be easy. But what we do now matters. If we can step up and fight, if we can do the hard things, history will remember us as great men and women willing to sacrifice for the good of every Human in this world. But if we bicker, argue amongst ourselves, and blame our problems on others, then history won’t remember us at all.”
Cam finished his speech and turned back to the command tent. He could hear breathing around him. The silence was so oppressive that he worried he might not make it back to the tent at all. He worried it might crush him.
But as he reached the flap, a cheer rose from somewhere in the back. He wasn’t sure who began it, or who took it up, but soon the enlisted men were chanting: Shaman! Shaman! Shaman!
Cam paused at the entrance to the tent and held up a hand to acknowledge the cheers before stepping back inside. The cheer continued for some time, and Cam sat alone at the command table, drinking water and staring at a map of the region, thinking about his future, about his past, and about what he’d become.
30
Cam’s back ached as he sat straight against a tree trunk. He’d been there for an hour, his eyes shut tightly enough to leave blobs in his vision.
He could still feel his blade slice through Lagon’s neck. He could still see Lagon’s blank eyes staring up at him from the grass.
“Ah, shit,” he said and slapped his fist against the tree. He couldn’t seem to drop into the deep meditative state he craved. If only he could find that centered peace, he might be able to stop thinking about killing Lagon in front of half the army.
“I’m not sure that tree did anything to you.”
He opened his eyes with a start. Brice stood across the clearing from him, her arms hanging loose at her side. She wore a simple gray tunic, top two buttons undone, and a pair of tight dark pants. Her sword belt was missing, and her hair hung loose at her shoulders.
He’d never seen her looking so norm
al before.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t take it out on the tree.”
“What are you doing out here?” She tiled her head.
“I was trying to find some peace and quiet,” he said.
“I can leave you, if you want.”
“That’s okay.” He shifted and leaned forward. “Come sit with me.”
She hesitated. “I just wanted to come out and make sure you were okay. Arter said you gave him the slip, and I thought…”
“You thought, what?”
“I don’t know. That you were upset.”
He gave her a flat look. “I am upset, Brice,” he said.
She nodded and walked over. She sat down on the grass beside him and picked up a stray leaf. She began to rip it into small pieces, staring down at her fingers as she dropped the pieces onto the dirt in front of her.
“What you did was hard,” she said. “Killing a man like that… it’s not the same thing as killing someone in battle.”
“No, it’s not.”
“He was helpless. Couldn’t fight back.”
Cam grimaced. “I know.”
“Sorry.” She smiled a little. “If it helps, I think you did the right thing.”
“I’m not so sure.”
She finished tearing up the leaf and let the bits fly into the wind.
“I debated following you out here,” she said.
“I’m surprised you found me.”
She shrugged. “Wasn’t hard. Arter told me where you lost him and I just found your tracks. You have a particular way of walking.”
“Yeah? How’s that?”
“You limp, just a tiny bit. You put more weight on your right foot. I think it’s because you’re not used to wearing a sword at your hip. But anyway, I found your tracks and followed them out here.”
“Clever,” he said. “You’ve been watching me closely then, haven’t you?”
She smiled a little. “Not as closely as I should have.”
Cam looked away from her, out across the small clearing toward a group of bramble bushes.
“I came out here to try and find some peace,” he said. “I thought if I could just meditate and find a little quiet, maybe I could forget about Lagon’s head rolling from his shoulders.”