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Authors: Joshua P. Simon

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BOOK: Wayward Soldiers
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Most of the information I held back was what related to me and my family. I could not forget that many in the group had the dumb idea that my wife and kids had a curse attached to them.

I felt like an idiot for not anticipating the potential problems of Lasha’s appearance when we first returned in Denu Creek as husband and wife. I knew some people would have issues, but never did I imagine their cruel attitudes.

Hamath once told me that he believed all people had evil in them. That even the kindliest old woman, or an innocent young child, was capable of matching the worst atrocities we had seen during the war.

“All it takes is the right situation and a little nudge from those around them,” he had said.

I didn’t believe him then. Hamath had a way of putting even my penchant for cynicism to shame. However, I wondered if maybe he had been right after all.

I hoped that once we reached the Southern Kingdoms and Myra and Zadok were around others they more closely resembled, some of the hardships they had endured might lessen.

Staring into the hazy night sky, Lasha’s face took shape in the strange haze. A couple of stars even managed to shine bright enough to make it through the thick fog and represent her eyes.

Gods, she was beautiful.

Then without trying, I thought of her time at the Soiled Dove and the image faded. I wiped damp cheeks and closed my eyes.

At times, I really hated people.

CHAPTER 14

An interesting and important point that did come up in the discussions about our path south was the fear of encountering more bandits. It was a legitimate fear and one that had been in the back of my mind as well. We had held our own against the raiders in Denu Creek, but that was after an advance warning, and familiar terrain in which to fight.

Chances were, we wouldn’t have those advantages on the road.

Several townspeople had shown skill with bows, but that was while they were perched on top of buildings. I doubted their accuracy would remain as good while someone charged them with sword in hand, especially if mounted. I know my aim would suffer in a similar set of circumstances and I had years of experience they didn’t.

In Denu Creek, most of the casualties from our side occurred after things got up close and ugly. Few knew how to use a weapon properly. Without some of the tricks I had used to hide their lack of ability, the loss of life among our group would be much higher in another confrontation.

With that in mind, I had Ira wake everyone up early the next morning since I knew he’d take no lip from anyone who might call him crazy for doing so.

We began weapons training.

I had considered doing some sort of training sooner, but worried I’d face resistance from people still nursing injuries. Our meeting the night before helped me realize I was being careless and frankly, soft.

“Prax is laughing his rear off right now while looking at you sorry excuses for soldiers!” hollered Ira.

His voice rose above tired groans and painful winces while Dekar ran the group through warm-ups in the early morning glow. No one dared make the point that none in attendance were soldiers.

As usual, the brothers’ personalities contrasted noticeably. Dekar calmly encouraged. Ira loudly belittled. I tried not to get involved unless I saw either approach become too heavy handed.

My original intention was to keep Ira reined in a bit for these exercises given the people’s backgrounds and the fact we weren’t a real militia. However, the morning started off with one of Jareb’s old hands, Liam, taunting Boaz for his lack of physical prowess.

Liam was once a leg breaker, collecting money by any means necessary. He left Jareb quickly once he saw the money his boss flaunted didn’t mean much in this new world. He helped tremendously in the battle against the raiders, but unfortunately, his contributions had gone to his head.

The former owner of the Hemlock Inn tried to take Liam’s insults in stride, but I could see they bothered him.

I was about ready to get on Liam, but before I could, Ira jumped so far down Liam’s throat he could scratch the man’s toes. For over half an hour Ira laid into him, calling the man every name he could think of, even insulting Liam’s family eight generations back.

Ira never did anything half way.

Men gaped and women blushed at the things coming out of Ira’s mouth, especially the part about Liam’s great grandmother having an affair with a stray hound dog that resulted in her adopting behavior unbecoming of a woman. I swore Dekar might have cracked a smile at that one, showing a bit of sibling pride.

People grew more uncomfortable as Ira went on, but since no children were around, I let it continue. Setting the tone on the first day was crucial, and no one set a tone like Ira.

To be honest, the filth coming out of Ira’s mouth was also a thing of beauty. Many a drill sergeant spent years perfecting a mentality that just came natural to Ira. I sometimes wondered if Ira missed his true calling.

Sivan eased up beside me, shaking his head. “Gods, the army got a whole lot tougher than when I was in it if that’s the way recruits are handled.”

“Few are like Ira. Soon after joining, a captain tried to convince Ira to assist in the training of new recruits at Hol.”

“And he said no? That’s surprising. It would have gotten him out of danger.”

“Too much responsibility. If he’d taken the position, it would have become his job, rather than something I had him do from time to time. For him, this is fun.”

Sivan snorted as Ira paced back and forth in front of Liam, spittle flying from his mouth. “I believe it. He’s got that look about him.”

“Unfortunately, his personality rubs many people the wrong way.”

“Not me.”

“Oh?”

“There were always a few like him with that sort of mindset in the army. Oddly enough they usually end up being the most loyal people you’ve ever met.”

“True enough.”

“He was right earlier, you know. Prax probably is laughing if he’s watching this.”

I grunted, unable to picture the Turine god of war laughing at anything that didn’t involve death and destruction.

Sivan continued. “How long you going to let this go on?”

I offered a shrug. “As long as it needs to. Normally, I’d have Dekar move on to the real drills by now, but I’m trying to stall and give Ira time to work. It’s important we do this today.”

Sivan was an old hand and knew what I was trying to do. “He’ll break.”

Five minutes later, Liam broke.

It started with him trying to get physical with Ira. Liam threw a punch. Ira ducked under it and shoved him, not once stopping his taunts. In a real fight, Ira would have been all over him, and that would be it. However, if he had wanted a physical beat down, that could have happened long ago. No, this was much more than physical.

Liam got up and charged, ramming his shoulder into Ira’s stomach. They both careened to the ground, though Ira twisted so Liam took most of the fall. A breath later, Ira had him in a hold that pinned Liam’s arms behind his back and wrenched his neck forward.

Liam fought the hold, but it was hopeless. He wasn’t going anywhere unless Ira wanted him to. Ira lowered his voice so that no one could hear a word. The man started bawling like a child after a minute. Ira looked my way. I gave him a nod. He released Liam, got to his feet, and dusted himself off.

Dekar went over and helped the former leg breaker up.

He put his arm around Liam, and the two went for a walk. Two things could have happened. Either Liam would leave our group within an hour of returning, never to be seen again. Or he’d become the kind of man you’d want to watch your back in the worst of situations for as long as you lived and breathed.

Obviously, I hoped for the latter.

Ira walked up. “You want me to take over for Dek here?”

By this point, all training had ceased and the townspeople stood around processing what they had just seen. “Nah. I’ll take over. Go relieve Myra and Zadok from the young ones so they can join the drills. They could both use some time learning how to take care of themselves.”

Ira smiled. And it was genuine. He walked away.

Next to ripping a man a new hole in his backside, playing hide and seek with a bunch of young kids was about his favorite way to pass the time. After all our years together, I still had no understanding of why that was so. Many had asked him about his soft spot for children. Ira never gave more than a shrug. I could see there was something there, but he kept it secret. I think Dekar knew, but he never offered anything.

I wondered if it had to do with the incident Dekar brought up when Ira was eight.

“Sivan, can you do a quick sweep of our perimeter? I’d feel better confirming we still don’t have anything immediate to concern ourselves with before continuing here.”

“I’ll get on it.”

I faced the townspeople, their eyes moving between Liam and Dekar a hundred yards off, then to me, and then each other. They had no idea what would happen next.

Perfect. I wanted them off balance.

* * *

I worked them for a couple of hours while Dekar talked to Liam. I focused on the basics. Grip, stance, footwork, defense.

Eventually, Dekar and Liam parted, the former walking in my direction, the latter moving away from camp.

It was already past mid-morning and we still hadn’t broken camp. By the time we got things packed, it was liable to be lunch. I made a quick decision.

“All right everyone. Grab some water.” Relief washed over everyone’s sweat-soaked face. “Good news is that I’ve decided we won’t be traveling today.”

“Really? What about the stuff going on in Hol?” asked Rezub, half bent as he caught his breath.

“One day won’t kill us, and we really need to make up for some lost time here. We’ll meet back together in twenty minutes and run through the exercises again.”

The townspeople shuffled away.

“Well?” I asked Dekar as he eased over to me.

“Liam’s got himself a lot of personal baggage. Of course, he isn’t the first.”

“Nope.” Usually those who cause the most trouble are the ones who had the hardest upbringings, taking their anger out on everyone but the people who deserved it. “Will he stay?”

“I think so. I told him to go mull it over and make his decision before dinner. If he stays, he’ll be someone we can rely on.”

“Good. He has some talent with a sword.”

Dekar gestured over to the townspeople gulping water. “I heard what you said about staying put for today.”

There wasn’t really a question there, but I knew Dekar wanted me to elaborate. “Don’t worry. We’re safe. Sivan came back a few minutes ago and said our perimeter is fine. I’ll have him ride out every hour or so and make sure things haven’t changed. We really need to get these people to understand the basics. Starting tomorrow, I want those walking to break off into squads with a rotating command that starts at sunrise and ends at sunset. Whenever we stop to break, they’ll all be required to perform some small, short mission or drill to get used to working in teams. After we cycle through command a couple of times, I’ll name permanent squad leaders.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Trying to start your own army?”

“Trying to use what I know to make sure we stay alive. It just so happens that most of what I know as it pertains to our situation comes from the army.” I paused. “Never thought I’d be using all that stuff after we were discharged. Yet, it seems that’s all I’ve done.”

“You know, there was an old general from way back in Turine’s early days. General Urion.”

“Started Hol’s university, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. Became a philosopher after his military days if you can believe that. A pacifist in fact. So much so, he swore off eating meat. Got to be where the sight of blood made him physically ill. And the thought of killing anything, even an animal, brought him to tears.”

“Crazy.”

“Especially when you consider that in war Urion hated to take prisoners after victory. Said they slowed him down. Once he butchered five thousand men who surrendered to him rather than deal with the headache of feeding them afterward.”

“I guess every man has a limit on how much death he can take.”

“Yeah. Took him awhile though.” He paused. “How long you think it’s going to take to hit our limit?”

I swore. “Molak-be-damned if I know, Dekar, I thought I hit mine years ago. The problem was the gods failed to tell everyone else I reached that point. They kept sticking me in situations where it felt like I had little choice except to resort to violence.”

“That quiet life we all hoped for after the war sure isn’t working out as we thought it would, that’s for sure.”

Silence stretched then. I pondered many what-ifs and I’m sure Dekar likely did the same.

I cleared my throat. “So back to your story of Urion. It’s a nice bit of history, but I’m not sure I see the relevance to what I’m doing here.”

“When he created the university, he created a hierarchy of leadership among professors, instructors, aides, and so on. They all had their duties and they were all expected to complete them without question. Only the university’s top staff ever got to speak with Urion. Everyone else had to work their complaints or concerns through the proper channels.”

“So he borrowed parts of the military structure for the university?”

“Not parts. All of it. Meals were the same meals the army ate. The students sleep to this day in what are essentially barracks. First year students have to go through half a year of what we’d call basic training to weed out those not serious about their education. It’s actually kind of eerie. Before he died, someone asked him why he used military techniques so much since he had then hated all the death that had come with his time serving. Do you know what he said?”

“Not a clue.”

“He said, ‘The military in itself is not evil, it’s what the men in control of the military do with it that makes it evil.’”

“That’s a thought to keep you awake at night.”

Dekar gave a rare chuckle. “To say the least.” He slapped me on the back, and walked over to the water.

I wished I could have joined him in the laugh, but it wasn’t to be. For ten years, all I had wanted was to escape the army and return to what I loved. I wondered if I’d be haunted forever by my time in the military . . . planting vegetables so corn would flank my wheat while holding back a reserve of tomatoes.

Maybe I found a little humor in it after all.

* * *

We ran drills throughout the day. By the end, most everyone wished we had traveled instead. Walking miles and inhaling dust suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

I dismissed everyone to dinner.

Despite the fatigue, a few of the better students hung around and asked about sparring.

The most vocal of those was Sered, Denu Creek’s former blacksmith. The short man’s former profession had honed his muscles to a hardness unmatched by even the farmhands. He still looked tired, but wasn’t bent over half as much as the others.

I said, “How about we worry about that for another day? Repetition of the basics is what is most important right now. You start sparring and all the cues about form I taught you are going to be forgotten.”

“If we get attacked tomorrow, it will be forgotten even quicker if we haven’t tried to use that form in a real fight,” he responded.

“He’s got you there, Big Brother.”

I gave Ava the eye. I hadn’t noticed her creeping up behind me. She had watched over most of the afternoon classes, lending advice to other women, stressing to them the importance of speed and precision as many of their opponents would be bigger and stronger.

BOOK: Wayward Soldiers
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