by P. S. Power
The General nodded.
“You know, that might well work. I’ll leave that to you. Use magic to make certain they are telling you the truth, however. Some men will say anything to save their own lives, or a bit of coin. Most will, when there is great risk of harm. We can, perhaps, allow a minor mercy. We cannot allow our enemies to see kindness in us as weakness, lest they use it against us, later.”
The man rode next to him, for the entire slow trip back to the camp. There were a few places that had to be dried again, but in the main the road was still nice and hard. The dirt had stayed more or less smooth, given that, even with thousands of feet on it that morning. The same seemed to be holding for the main camp, when they walked into it. They hadn’t taken everyone that day, only about a third of the men available. Women too, most likely, but Anders had yet to meet any of those in the Istlan military. Some of the ladies that had been taken prisoner seemed to be knights of a sort, however. Probably light armored horse, rather than heavy, since men were simply stronger than women were, but they seemed hard and capable enough for the task.
Like they might have been, if they hadn’t ended up mired like they were. Rather than wait, since doing his work in the dark would be no easier than doing it tired but in the light, he started to build almost instantly. He used a variation of the culvert spell, placing the new jail at the back of the compound, but inside the palisade around it. The wooden stakes wouldn’t really keep anyone from escaping, but there was only one narrow door to the thick-walled place, and the roof on top was steeply slanted. The earth was made dry, using magic, and hard using a separate spell that rammed it from all sides at once. The inside was warmed, but he couldn’t hold it that way, really. It was too much effort for him, after the day he’d had.
The prisoners were made to simply stand and watch him work, which probably wasn’t the most interesting thing in the world. Then, some found magic to be passing fair entertainment, so it was probably personal for each of them.
At the end, he frowned.
“It’s not freezing inside, but it’s just a dark open room. I...” He sighed then and nodded. “I’ll make another one, for the women. Not that you men here would harm them, but... I promised to do my best to protect them.” He felt bad, accusing them of being rapists like that. None of the men spoke of it though. They just looked at the ground, feeling the shame of their captivity. Even if they weren’t all stripped to naked and beaten half to death. The other prisoners were being kept across the camp. From the sound of things, they weren’t having an easy time of it.
It took less time to make the second, smaller jail, and he managed to get some of the levies to come over and guard their people, while he went to get his food, then got some help in setting up to cook, directly out front of where the prisoners were to be kept. No one tried to escape. Then, doing that before nightfall would be insanely foolish.
As he worked, Anders called people over. He started with the one person who sounded as if they might have been in charge of something.
“Count Nordman? Would you be free to have an interview with me? I know it’s strange, me cooking at the same time. We can wait until later, but I’d imagine that you and your people here want the letters of ransom to go out as quickly as possible.”
It was difficult, but Anders tried to drop into a trance while he worked and spoke. It slowed everything down, but he was able to tell several things, all at once. Half of the people there were planning to attack, in the night. Even if they died doing it. Most of them didn’t love their chances, and also weren’t aware that others were thinking the same thing.
The Count, a large and powerfully built man that had seen enough seasons that there was much gray in his yellow beard and hair, moved over to him, directly. He seem bemused at the fact that Anders was cooking for them all that night. Until he glanced at the cart, which was mostly filled with meat and greens.
“Riches, these things are, at a local such as this. Then, you took much wealth this day. The armor and effects of our fallen, these ransoms... That is not a poor start on a life, for one as young as you appear.” The man closed his lips then, and looked away, speaking in the language of Yanse, which they were technically in at the moment. “That man, the one in command... He scolded you, like a mere boy or servant. For what crime? Being too powerful? Thinking for yourself? One such as you might make a very good future, living in Yanse. Even if you refuse to turn on your people, you could do much there. Even building a house such as this would assure you a life of leisure and wealth, if done a few times a year.”
Anders looked at the man and nodded. After all, he’d told him much, in those few lines of speech. For instance, that the Count spoke Istlan. He wasn’t speaking in it at that moment, either, which meant the other man understood that most of the levies wouldn’t have two languages, like he did. They were farmers and simple folk, who probably couldn’t read or write, either. Most lands had a class such as that, most likely.
That the man was also seeking to bribe him, perhaps for his own freedom, was also in there. Though that didn’t seem right. He was going to be able to buy his way out of incarceration, after all. Not all of them there would be able to do that, most likely. If that number was too high, he’d be hard pressed to save them all. Really, he wasn’t certain he should.
As soon as they were let go, they’d simply turn and attack again. If not that day, then within the next months or years. There was a real reason to go gently with these people, of course. If they were treated well, then they, and perhaps their people, might hold to that in the future. It wouldn’t always work, but sometimes it did, making it a thing to attempt. At least that made some sense to him.
Anders shook his head.
“I’m just a fletcher and the boy who makes deliveries at times. Now, how do we get notice to your people? Are you paying the ransom for all of your people? You mentioned that in a way that seemed to indicate that would be the case. That they’re your people, that is.”
The man turned white then and went hard eyed.
“I can’t afford that. Even if I beggar myself, I wouldn’t have even the rate required for the lowest of my own people here. I can, perhaps see to ten of them?” The man swallowed, thinking of a sum in gold that sounded high, to Anders. Nearly ten percent of what he owned, merely for his own freedom.
Rather than give over and lower that for the man, Anders simply nodded.
“Fine. Where do we send a message? Do any of the people here who can’t make the ransom know where to go?”
That, it turned out, was the case. In fact, he had eight messengers willing to travel at first light with complicated instructions as for deliveries. One of them, a poor knight, from the sound of things, if an honorable one, volunteered to meet the others and bring the funds back to Anders.
He smiled when he spoke the words, his eyes sad.
“Then, if I am taken prisoner again, it is only one man, not eight.”
That made a lot of sense, so he nodded.
“Understood. Now, some of you, a few, are planning to escape in the night, killing as many of us as you can. Don’t. You won’t survive it. I already know who you are, after all.” They were eating by that time, and Anders’ words got several of them to glare at him. He simply smiled at it.
“Besides, we’re trying to get you all back home. Please recall that later, if it’s your turn to show mercy to someone.”
There were grudging nods at the words, but Anders knew they wouldn’t take it seriously, until they were on their way back home. At true dark, the prisoners were put inside the structures, the hard and heavy, unlocked swivel doors closed, to keep the heat inside. Feeling about finished for the day, Anders made his way back to his tent, only to be waved into the one on the far side, by Prince Robarts.
“Anders? A moment, of your time, if that’s possible?”
He nodded, since he was tired, but not falling down yet.
“Certainly. What may I do for you, Prince Robarts?”
> That got waved to the side, a bit curtly.
“I need to have a message sent to father, tonight, if we can do that. It’s late, but we shouldn’t wait, since it’s good, but important news. The southern forces of Yanse have fallen to us. In part, at least. It is a real weakening of their ability to resist us in this area. I should have gotten with you earlier, but you were busy. I hear that General Coelder scolded you for your heroism of the day? That’s less than welcome.”
Anders shook his head.
“He didn’t, truly. He scolded me for not following orders well enough, not for the actions I took, really. Then he set to me the task of seeing to the health and safety of the prisoners I helped to take. I have the levies guarding them right now. Will that be enough, do you think? I should probably do it myself, but...” He was so tired a sense of it poured from him then. Only for a moment, but hard enough that the man across from him nodded.
The Heir let his eyes narrow, just a bit.
“I’ll send over some of the Knights, to stand a watch there. The levies are good men, but not the sort to stand up to an army officer, if they demand harsh things be done to the prisoners.” The man looked over at Sir Humphrey, nodded and then turned back to Anders.
“Overall, you did well today. I can see the General’s point, of course. Following orders is at the heart of military operations. That you aren’t actually in the military might have been missed by the man, naturally. Now, we need to leave for the next camp, the north central front, in a day. That will leave the prisoners here, under the command of others. I’ll speak to the General, and suggest he see to their care, as you would do it. We leave at mid-day, tomorrow, weather and the war, permitting.”
That was a tight time schedule, but he might be able to get some food in, if he hurried well enough. That wouldn’t cook it, but there was only so much he could do that way if he had to leave under orders from the Prince.
For a moment he felt torn in too many directions. The General had told him to see to the prisoners. The Prince told him he was leaving the next day. What he lacked was any way to make the two things meet in the middle. There was little to nothing he could do with the prisoners if he was gone. On the good side, if he had orders to leave, the military man wouldn’t be able to do much to him over the idea. It left him feeling poorly, however. He was supposed to get his tasks done. It wasn’t just his own rule for himself, it was what everyone he knew expected of him. Most of the time, at least.
That must have shown on his face, because the man nodded, seeming to commiserate with him.
“One thing I have learned in life is that you will never be able to make everyone happy. Not all the time. The best you can manage, most days, is making sure you do what you think is needed, to your own satisfaction.” He smirked a bit then, and looked at the ground, which he kicked twice, with the toe of his boot. “Which, trust me, is never as simple as it seems, when your father is the King. I understand that sense of being torn.”
He nodded at the man, looking up at him. The fellow wasn’t a giant, but he was taller than most around them by half a head or more. Thinking things through, he shrugged. It was rude of him to do that, so he sighed a bit and then bowed.
“I’ll be up early then, to see to some hunting, if I can at all. If I can’t... I don’t know what I’m going to feed the prisoners.”
Prince Robarts gave him a strange look for a few moments, and then nodded.
“Then do what you can, to the best of your abilities and let it be enough. It will have to be. Now, you should be off to bed, I wager. I’ll ask Sir Clemence to wake you early?”
That was a plan, and would probably work better than Anders trying to do it himself.
“That message first? I can do that now.” He was exhausted, but the communications magic truly wasn’t that difficult to manage. Neither was being able to ascertain that Master Tolan was at a meeting with the King just then, making passing the information along rather expedient. After that, going back and forth twice with messages, Anders finally was allowed to go off to bed, wondering it Sir Clemence would be able to rouse him the next morning at all.
As it turned out, he was just as well off to have gone to bed early, since Sir Daniel yelled for him, at an hour that was totally dark outside.
“Master Brolly! Problem at the jail. Come!” There was a sound of feet then, boots hitting the ground, with many people running into the night. He followed, muttering a spell as he moved, making his belt knife glow, since he’d fallen asleep with it on.
It was his short eating knife, not a real weapon, but it gave him something to focus on.
“Bar li teth- fen ot...” A bright light, like that of the sun, only made smaller and less hot, came from the metal of the knife. The little sword, as he’d called it. It worked, thankfully.
When he got to the jail, it wasn’t the men’s side that was having trouble, but rather the women’s. One of the ladies was naked, her face bruised. Off to the side were a clutch of military men, with one of them lying on the ground, clearly dead.
He didn’t wait to ask what had happened, closing his eyes immediately and looking at what had taken place already. It wasn’t a good thing, the woman being pulled out of his jail by force, the levies not being able to tell the military men to simply leave. At least they hadn’t, at the time, and the feeling was that they really hadn’t wanted to fight the men who had come to rape the women there. Only one of them had been used that way, but it was one of the ladies that Anders had assured the safety of. That he’d do his best to protect her and the others. Then she was used, which wasn’t, he hoped, the best he could manage at all that way.
Rage filled him, for several moments. He was still in a trance, so it didn’t show on the outside. Not even when he spoke.
“We need the General here. Now, please.” That didn’t take long, the man alerted to the situation by the yelling right outside his own tent.
He bothered to ask what had taken place.
Anders silenced everyone else, waving the glowing blade. It was just a light, but did serve to get their attention.
“These five men, four now, raped that woman. Each of them was going to do it, though only three of them managed it, before the knights found it going on and stopped it. I’ve checked the situation, using magic, and all the facts line up. I promised this woman that she would be safe from such things. I promised.”
Anders didn’t know what was going to happen at all. He figured, or at least Farad did, that the men would be allowed to go, perhaps with a reprimand, since the woman was only a prisoner and that kind of thing happened. It was almost a rule of war, in fact.
After a moment of reflection, the older man took a deep breath.
“I see. This is an odd situation, then, isn’t it? In the normal course, there would be no punishment for such an act. You men, perhaps unknowing, have challenged Master Brolly’s very word... He is acting here as a direct representative of King Mathias, which alters the situation, greatly.” He swallowed then. “Trial by combat. Now. This is to the death, Master Brolly. They will try to kill you, if they can. Arm the men, please, Sir Daniel.” They had their own weapons, which had been taken away.
As soon as they were armed again, with swords, Anders killed them all. Ruthlessly, causing their heads and middles to explode. It happened so quickly that it seemed almost to be two separate events, instead of four.
Then he set the bodies on fire, even if it made no sense to waste the energy on it. The world filled with the scent of roasted meat, at first. The light from the fire was white hot, with blue in it, and it seemed to light the sky, brightly. That scent quickly became something closer to burning charcoal. Fifteen minutes later, with Anders sucking in air as hard as he could, there was nothing left but black places on the earth and ash.
Which didn’t undo the wrong that had been done there. He shook, bowing toward the woman. It was a bit too pretty and genteel, but he had nothing else he could do. The woman swallowed, and turned away, at fi
rst. Then she spoke in the language of Yanse.
“Thank you.” Then she went back into the jail, on her own, which didn’t have a lock on the door at all. Sir Daniel moved to him, and patted him on the back.
“Easy there, Master Brolly. I think your message was delivered well enough. No one will try you, or these people, again. Not if they learn of this event, which all will by mid-morning. Now, we should get back to bed. You guarding this place... Well, as said, it won’t be needed.”
He didn’t storm off, but he left without looking back. The other man was correct, after all. People would either fear him enough to resist their urges, or they wouldn’t. The next day he was leaving, so sitting there that night would show that he was simply not there the next.
Leaving at that moment, he could imply that he wasn’t truly gone at all. Even if he wasn’t there. It wasn’t totally true, perhaps, but he could check on things from a distance, having those skills. Then, if need be, he could pester the General until any problems were fixed. If they weren’t, then... Well, there wasn’t much he could do about it.
No one tried to speak to him when he rose for the day, not having slept at all. Sir Clemence followed him out, but kept his distance. As if his anger at the rapists would spread to the innocent, if they didn’t walk carefully with him. He got to where the horses were being kept, an open pen, and saddled Chestnut, since she hadn’t been ridden much in the last weeks, being on cart pulling duty. Being a good horse, she hadn’t complained much. Sir Clemence had his own horse saddled in about the same amount of time, which meant he was going slow, to not outpace Anders that way.
Then he closed his eyes, and pointed off to the south west.
“Five miles, that way. We’ll need to ride fast. There’s a large herd of deer. At least thirty of them. We can’t bring that much back with us.” He had what he needed in his saddle bag, as far as rope went, and had a sharp blade on him.