Forgotten Soldiers (13 page)

It was my turn to grin as I threw back a thumb. “Hop on then. My name’s Tyrus.”

He bowed. “You can call me, Kehat.”

* * *

By the end of the day I had begun to regret my goodwill toward Kehat.

I had known many of the men worshipped Molak. What I hadn’t realized was how starved they were to renew that faith.

During the war, men would say a prayer or mutter a curse to the gods as needed. However, few really devoted themselves to their chosen deity as there was little time for all the pomp and circumstance needed to do it properly. Balak allowed priests to come and go so long as they didn’t get in the way of men doing their jobs. Therefore, few men spent much time talking to priests.

I guessed after Damanhur, some of the men felt like their half-hearted efforts in worshipping the father of the gods had caused Molak to abandon them at a time when all was supposed to be well. They figured that by taking advantage of this golden opportunity with Kehat, Molak might get off his rear and throw them a hand out.

I doubted Molak would do anything. He sure seemed stingy with the blessings during the last decade when hundreds of thousands of men lost their lives on the Turine side alone. It seemed that Molak would have been a bit understanding of his followers’ inability to properly worship since they were busy trying to block the swords coming at their throats.

Regardless, Kehat had the men chanting prayers and singing hymns as we set up camp. Even quiet Dekar joined in. We were so far away from any major form of civilization, I decided to let the men go at it and get it out their systems. From the looks of things, they all needed it.

I, on the other hand, did my best to block out the dozens of songs I remembered from my youth, lest I accidently slip into a chorus myself. That was no easy thing. Several times I caught my lips silently repeating the refrain of a specific prayer on their own accord.

Comfortable the work was getting done, and filled to the brim with the carryings on, I placed Dekar in charge, and went to the outskirts of camp to get away. Thinking about Lasha and the kids helped clear my mind.

Some say that religion was infectious. They may have been right, but it was a disease I had no wish to catch.

* * *

Captain Nehab returned just after camp was set. I knew this only because the singing came to an abrupt halt. I heeled and toed it back to camp to greet him but he was already walking toward me.

“Sorry, sir. Didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I was farther out than I thought.”

“No problem, Sergeant. We can stay out here. Hamath told me about your aversion to all things religious. I don’t have quite as strong of feelings as you, but I’m no disciple either. How have you been killing time?”

“Just thinking. Mostly about my sister now. Wondering how she’s doing with her studies under the High Mages of Hol. She never got along with them before. Put one in the infirmary about four years ago when he tried to belittle her in front of several others because she was only classed as a squad mage under my unit.”

He chuckled. “I remember that. Your sister has a unique personality.”

I grinned. “That she does. Hopefully, it’s not getting her in trouble. Especially since I know she wanted to be a part of looking over that Geneshan artifact.”

He grunted. “Well, I hope looking is all the Council of High Mages is doing. Balak told me what the Geneshans think the artifact is capable of. I’ve dealt with enough misery and chaos in the war. I don’t need that stuff following me home.”

“I hear you, sir.”

The singing started back up, and I shook my head. “So, how’d it go today?”

We started walking.

“Well enough. No one seems to be following us, which is what we suspected. We came across a small town off the main road. Heaven’s Way. Ever heard of it?”

“No, sir.”

“Me either. For something with heaven in the name, it sure was a dump. Maybe eighty people or so. I kept the men back and entered on my own after removing all signs of the army about me. Just to get a feel of things.”

“And?”

“Not great, but not awful either. They hadn’t heard of Damanhur yet, thankfully. But I’m sure they will soon enough. Regardless, the sentiment seems mixed. Most of the general populace doesn’t hold the army in high regard. Lots of stories circulating about the war. Some false, some true, some exaggerations of the truth. Those who seemed to be more supportive of the war or at least indifferent to it were around, but outnumbered in their opinion.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Hard to say, and I couldn’t press without being suspicious.”

“So, what are your orders?”

“Keep doing what we’ve been doing. Avoid people as best as we can until it’s time to start dropping people off at their homes.”

“And what do we do if things are just as bad at those places?”

He sucked his teeth. “I really don’t know. That will be up to the individual to decide. Stay, or move on to a place where they’ll be welcomed.”

“The thought of returning home is the only thing that has kept most of them alive all these years. To not be welcomed there, well . . .”

He sighed. “Yeah. I know.”

The singing got really loud just then. We both turned our heads.

“Sorry, sir. I may not be religious, but the priest looked pretty bad off.”

He patted me on the shoulder. “No worries, Sergeant. I would have done the same. And if nothing else it seems the men needed him just as much as the priest needed a meal and a ride. We’ll let him stay with us for a bit. When we part, we’ll give him some supplies to take with him.”

I nodded.

“And, Tyrus.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Let’s not mention what I said about that town to the others just yet. No reason to bring them down again.”

“Of course.”

“Good. Then I’ll leave you to your thoughts. After a day of hard riding, I can put up with some off key singing if it means a full stomach.”

CHAPTER 8

Over the next week, Kehat went his own way and we continued to shun any large communities we passed. That practice changed as we reached several smaller towns that were the final destination for several in our group.

To ensure the safety of those we dropped off, Nehab sent half a dozen men into town as an escort. He didn’t want to send in anymore, so that the locals weren’t threatened by us. The six men selected as escorts were never the same, rotating men out here and there so everyone at least got a brief taste of civilization.

Reports from those who returned to the group were mixed. Some were surprised to see soldiers returning, and asked questions about the war in a more curious than accusatory manner. However, many locals cast sour looks, even crossing the streets to avoid contact. Still, no one tried to raise arms against us like in Damanhur so we at least had that going in our favor.

Since the hostilities seemed minimal, every soldier we dropped off chose to remain in their home town, just as I expected they would.

Several men who returned after one particular trip into a passing town tried to look at the positive, explaining the looks and behavior of the people as just being cautious of strangers. The pessimists of our group felt it proved that many in the world no longer wanted us.

I hadn’t decided which side of the argument I fell.

After another night of debating the same thing, Dekar changed subjects. “Hamath, don’t you live somewhere around here?”

He threw a stick he had been fidgeting with into the fire. “Yep. We should make it there in a few days.”

“You don’t sound excited,” Dekar said.

Hamath shrugged. “Not especially.”

“What about Bilhah?” I asked. “You aren’t happy to see her again?”

He snorted. “She got married years ago.”

I blinked. “What? You never told me that. When did you find that out?”

“It was in that last batch of letters we all received before the army quit delivering messages.”

Shortly after Wadlow Hill, Balak had called for all outside communications to cease. Things were bleak then, and he was worried about our dwindling resources. He didn’t want to deplete them further by ferrying personal messages back and forth across country.

“Why haven’t you said anything before now?”

He threw another stick in the fire. “Because I knew how much it meant for you to talk about your family. I didn’t want to make you feel guilty about it just because I no longer had anyone waiting for me.”

“That’s a heck of a thing she did to you,” said Ira.

Hamath shrugged again. “She waited more than five years. That’s more than I thought she would considering we were only betrothed.”

“You gonna kill the guy she married?” asked Ira.

“Xank, no.”

“A beating at least? He took your woman,” Ira pushed.

Hamath shook his head. “She always wanted kids, and she was tired of waiting. I can’t fault her for that. Lavi be cursed, I was never sure if I even wanted kids.”

“Still, I know I couldn’t let someone get away with that. I’d have to at least—”

Dekar cut his brother off in a low voice. “Let it go.”

Ira clamped his jaw shut while the rest of us stared at the dancing flames. I spared a quick glance at Dekar and saw the worry lining his face, most likely thinking of the wife waiting for him.

We were all more apt to dwell on the possibility that there wouldn’t be much good waiting for us on our return. It was one thing not to have a job, or friends. But to lose your family, your woman . . .

My chest clenched for any man who had to go through that.

* * *

We set out late the next morning. Despite the desire to get home, Nehab demanded we all take a few extra hours of rest. No one argued. We had been pushing hard and it showed.

I sat at the back of the trailing wagon, legs over the side, listening to the clattering wheels as we rolled along. Staring at the beaten road, my mind wandered in a hundred directions—thinking of my stint in the army, the men I lost under my command, and what Ava was learning in Hol. I wondered what those idiot High Mages were doing with the Geneshan artifact. Maybe they had wised up and buried the thing as our enemies had said to do. That would be the day.

Most of my thoughts went back to Denu Creek. How much would it have changed in the last ten years? Would I recognize any of it? Would anyone recognize me?

The conversation from the night before got me thinking about how Lasha would greet my arrival. She wouldn’t have found someone else. I doubted that would happen even if she thought me dead. We had talked about that scenario the night before I left home. I had been adamant she find another man to marry.

“Fine, Tyrus. I’ll try. I’ll try to find someone who makes my legs weak with just the slightest of looks, who makes my heart race with the barest of whispers. I’ll try to find someone who treats me better than I have any right ever to be treated and loves his kids like no man I’ve ever met, including my own father. However, I have a feeling that no one will ever live up to the standard you’ve set. But, if it will ease that worrisome mind of yours, I promise to do my best if you don’t make it back.”

That was all a moot point. I wasn’t dead, and she knew that. Before Balak cut off communications with the outside world, he allowed all soldiers to write one more letter home stating that another letter would only come to announce our death. Until then, our family had no reason to believe we were dead.

No, what I worried about was how we’d act together after so much time apart. I knew her letters said she loved me, but saying something and acting the same way were two different things. Would the fire between us burn immediately, just as it had before? Or would it need to be rekindled, stoked over time, until it ended up greater than it had ever been? I guessed it didn’t really matter how things fell into place as long as they eventually did. And with everything I knew about my wife, I had to believe they would.

The kids though . . .

The wagon rolled over a rough patch of dry road, sending dust into the air. A violent coughing attack seized me, jarring me from thoughts I probably shouldn’t have been dwelling on anyway. I reached for my canteen, took a swig, and swallowed. The water was warm, but satisfying. I blinked away the tears in my eyes from coughing and nodded at Captain Nehab as he approached.

“Captain, what are you doing back here?”

“Looking to have a word with you in private, Sergeant. You mind hopping off and walking a bit?”

“No, sir. I could probably use the time to stretch my legs out anyway.”

That wasn’t entirely true. I still had quite a bit more time on the wagon before I’d have to trade spots with someone walking. We rotated spots in order to be fair. However, since several still nursed injuries, those who had healed up took longer shifts walking than others.

We drifted to the rear of the wagons until well out of earshot.

“You know our next stopping point, Sergeant?”

“No, sir.”

“Treetown. Ever heard of it?”