Read Resurrected Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Three Online
Authors: Joshua P. Simon
“Definitely heady stuff,” Ava admitted. “But again, you’re not the first person to think about such things. If I had the power to do it, I’d march back to that Geneshan camp and wipe out the entire army without batting an eye.”
“How do you deal with these feelings?”
She shrugged. “I just accept that this is my life whether I like it or not. Whether I understand it or not.”
“There isn’t another option?” Damaris’s tone seemed to suggest that she was begging for an answer that would put her mind at ease.
“Another one comes to mind. But it isn’t one I’d recommend.”
“What is it?”
“The other option is that someone kills you. Or you kill yourself. That sort of puts an immediate end to any thoughts running through your head.”
Damaris snorted. “Especially if how you die is a mace to the temple, I imagine.”
Ava came to a halt and gave the woman a look.
Damaris did the same, and frowned. “Sorry. That was probably not the best joke to make.”
Ava smiled, patted her on the arm. “In war, there are no bad jokes. Anything that warrants a smile is welcome.”
“Good.”
“So, this might not be the best time to bring this up, but then again, I don’t know when would be better. . . If you’re interested, I can show you tricks with a spear other than the basics Tyrus taught everyone. You know, just in case.”
Damaris bobbed her head. “I think I’d like that.”
CHAPTER 15
I hate to say that I used training as a way to relieve my frustration and worry, but I did just that for several days as we continued our march to Hol.
Training never really ends. Especially when you have a commander who’s been known to overdose on the pessimistic and worrisome nature of life. Put that commander in ankle chains and his mood only darkens.
I helped smooth over the vitriol from the men as I participated in the drills with them.
Though I was far from happy with where we were, I also knew I couldn’t keep pushing them the way I was.
The dinner bell was still an hour away from ringing, yet I called for an end to the day’s drilling. That confused everyone.
I gathered myself up and shouted. “I know I’ve been working you hard, but it’s for good reason. I know many of you dislike me anyway. Well, I don’t really care about that.”
Ira was nearby, giving me a cross look. I can only imagine what he was thinking. Probably something like, “That ain’t much of a rally speech, Ty.”
I continued. “However, despite your dislike for me, you’ve put in the effort and you’ve improved tenfold.” Not a lie. They had improved quite a bit. They were up to decent instead of crap. “So, I’m letting you off early tonight. Get some grub. Get some rest. Play some games. Do whatever. Still, no alcohol though.” A couple grumbles after that. “An hour extra sleep in the morning as well,” I added.
Most of the grumbles turned to grins. That was enough for me.
* * *
I walked off alone to the edge of camp. I decided that I needed a small break as well. Time to clear my head, at least of the army.
As I did, the space quickly filled with different worries, those of my kids and Ava. I worried about Nason, Sivan, Damaris, and the others as well. I tried not to dwell overly long on Damaris. I had enough to worry about with Ava and the kids. The last thing I needed was someone else. Especially when I considered what had happened to Lasha during the Geneshan War.
I shook away thoughts of her.
As I stood out past the pickets, staring out at the twisting, gnarled landscape, I allowed my thoughts to go to the only family I had left in the world. They could be dead and I might not learn of if for months, or years, if ever. I might be dead myself before I could ever see them again, despite my promise to them otherwise.
Ira used to say that a man needs to make do with the cards he’s dealt. His point was that a player who knew how to bluff or think could make any hand a winner. It was good advice that could be applied to life. Still, it would be nice if just once I could get a decent set of cards to play with. I was tired of bluffing, tired of working so hard just to survive.
The anger of my situation got the best of me. I raised my foot and slammed it down on a nearby branch. It snapped, and I ground the pieces into the dirt.
“Molak-be-damned, I just wanted some sense of normalcy with my family. Is that so much to ask?” I gritted out.
The thought of losing Ava, and especially my kids, was too much. I couldn’t lose them. Not after already losing Lasha. If there was anything that would break me, losing my family would do it.
“I’d rather be dead myself,” I said in a whisper.
My chest clenched then, my breathing grew rapid. I dropped to a knee, legs feeling weak, hands shaking.
Alone, I bowed my head as emotion overcame me.
* * *
An hour later, I felt better. Not great, but better.
After composing myself, I walked back into camp and headed for the chow line. I could have cut to the front, a perk of my rank, but that was never my style. I took my spot, and waited like everyone else. Unfortunately, my presence made those around me nervous, like their private conversations would get them in trouble. I tried to ease their minds with some small talk, a little praise, and a few jokes. It worked some, but it wasn’t until I grabbed my food and left that the tension around me dissipated.
I walked to my unit’s fire. Most were stretched out, relaxing as they ate their night’s meal. A few of the people I hadn’t known as long would not allow themselves to completely relax. However, Ira and Dekar hadn’t changed their behavior toward me one bit which more than made me happy. They both gave a cheerful nod, as did Reuma, who sat at Ira’s side.
Ira revealed a deck of cards. “Time for a couple games?”
I grinned. “Absolutely. Just give me a few minutes.”
“When you’re ready.”
I moved past him, and exchanged quick hellos and small talk with some of the others as I made my way to Boaz who sat in isolation, back to the flames, staring out into the night.
“Mind if I sit?”
He looked up. “No, not at all.”
I eased myself down and sighed like a man twice my age. I definitely needed the extra rest tonight as well.
“You look like a man with a lot on his mind,” I said.
“That would be a pretty accurate statement.”
“Want to talk about it?”
He shrugged. “Not sure what to say. I’m sure you’ve heard it all before, if not from me, then from others in a similar situation.”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t need to say it. It helps to get things off your chest.”
He let out a slow breath. “Just thinking about Dinah and Abigail. I miss them so much. Little Nadav too. That boy grew on me pretty quick. Like a son. Wondering if they’re all right, even still alive. Wondering if I’ll ever see them again. Wondering if I’ll make it out of this alive myself.”
I bobbed my head. “I have those same thoughts.”
“Any ideas on how to deal with them?”
“I think it comes down to the individual. Some people can push those thoughts aside and pretend that their family isn’t even real. Others use those thoughts to drive them. They keep their family on their mind purposefully as a motivating factor for success. I’ve seen men live and die from employing both techniques.”
He appeared defeated. “It all comes down to luck then.”
“Not always. But it’s hard to say that skill comes into it when you’re between two men with shields raised to ward off a storm of arrows and the soldiers on either side of you die while you live. Your shield was no bigger, your efforts no different, your body no smaller a target. Just luck.”
“That’s the hardest thing right now to deal with. I know I’ve gotten better in just the short time you’ve been training us, but back at that Geneshan camp, I should have been the one to die. Not Maksim. He was a much better fighter. Quicker and stronger. But his foot slid on a rock while mine stayed firm, and the enemy jumped on him before I could save him. That’s hard to live with, knowing a pebble saved my life and sacrificed his.”
“Why am I alive and he isn’t, right?” I clenched my fists as old feelings grabbed hold of me. “What makes me so special? Should I have died in his place? I bet you’ve asked yourself all of those questions.”
“Dozens of times already.”
“So have I. Every Molak-be-damned day since I first joined the army more than a decade ago.” I sighed, reflecting on the countless deaths I had witnessed, each one pushing down on me. “And I don’t have a reasonable answer for any of them. No soldier really does. Some might pretend they have it figured out, but they’re full of it. Often the most stressful part of being a soldier is not the fear of death, but the fear of living. It’s a burden, a great responsibility to do something with your life, to make it so you’re worthy for the time you have that others didn’t. It can eat at you if you aren’t careful. I knew several who weren’t and took their own lives.”
He hung his head. “Not very encouraging.”
“Sorry. Just wanted to let you know that you weren’t alone.”
There was a long silence between us before he spoke again.
“How do you cope with it?”
I wondered if I really was the person to ask. After all, I did just lose it for a bit while out by myself. However, I guessed that since I hadn’t taken my life yet, and was sitting there trying to help him, I was coping with it on some level.
“One day at a time, I guess. Keep thinking about your family, but try only to think about how important it is for you to be there for them. Don’t doubt that they are alive and waiting for you. And in the short term, think about your squad mates and how much they rely on you. You did a good thing back at the Geneshan camp with Maksim. He died, but it was through no fault of your own. You didn’t cower. You fought and defended him until I could get there. Then you got him to safety so he could die in peace rather than under a Geneshan sword. It might not sound like much, but for many, including me, that means a great deal.”
I looked over and saw he had slipped that ribbon from Dinah into his hand. He worried it between forefinger and thumb. He looked up to the sky, mouthed a few words, then put the ribbon away. I assumed there was a prayer, but I didn’t ask for confirmation. That was between him and the gods. I didn’t have any use for them, but I knew others did.
He smiled. “Thank you, Tyrus.”
I wasn’t sure what I said that might have helped, but whatever it was seemed to have done him good. That smile of his was enough to bring me out of the funk I had been in too.
I patted his back. “Up for some cards?” I asked, gesturing back over my shoulders.
“Nah. I think I’m going to take advantage of the extra down time to catch up on sleep.”
“Not a bad call.”
I made it back to Ira. Dekar and Reuma sat next to him. Each held a hand of cards. Another set lay face down on an empty spot on the log. I settled down, picked them up, and began organizing my hand.
“Just us?”
“Yeah, no one else can handle the stakes,” said Ira.
“Stakes? What stakes? We’ve got no money.”
“No. But we should after we whip the Geneshans. They always carried around valuable stuff. If not, we should find something leftover in Hol.”
“Looting dead countrymen?” Dekar shook his head. “Lovely.”
Ira shrugged. “They won’t be needing it. Best someone puts it to use.”
I said, “So you’re saying that no one from our unit wants to play cards with you because they may not have the money to pay their debts from a hypothetical pay off in the future? Seems like a flimsy excuse.”
“Well,” said Reuma while giving Ira a sidelong glance. “I think it had more to do with people accusing him of stacking the deck.”
“Yeah, can you believe that garbage, Ty?” He acted in genuine disbelief. “Me, cheating? Ridiculous. Like I would ever stoop so low to jeopardize the integrity of the cards. It isn’t my fault that I’m just a naturally gifted player.’
Dekar rolled his eyes. Somehow he managed to keep any other comments to himself.
“Let’s just get started,” I said.
“Yes, please,” said Dekar finally, “Maybe after I beat him a few times, he’ll shut up.”
Ira’s eyes narrowed. “That’s what you think.”
Reuma flashed me a helpless look.
I shrugged. “You better get used to it. I’ve been dealing with them for ten years.”
The games were interesting. Dekar and Ira bickered over every card played by the other, each time meticulously counting score to see where the other stood. Neither won a game. It almost didn’t matter that Reuma and I dominated them, so long as they beat the other.
“That’s three in a row I won,” said Ira, grinning.
“Uh, I won the last one,” said Reuma.
Dekar scowled, ignoring her. “Want to play a game of crests? I’m sure I can create a board.”
“No thank you.”
“Scared of a real game?”
“Just smart enough to play to my strengths. But then, mama used to say I was the one with the brains.”
Dekar’s scowl disappeared then. He started to chuckle. It grew into a loud laugh. A rarity for Dekar.
“What are you laughing at?” said Ira, face twisting.
“If you’re going to tell a lie, at least tell one that people might actually believe.”
He laughed louder, waking up the rest of our unit that had fallen asleep. They grumbled until Dekar snorted through his laughter. Then everyone, including me and Reuma joined in. That of course, angered Ira, but when Dekar snorted a second time, even Ira couldn’t refrain from laughing.
It felt good to rip out a good laugh. And based on the way people held their sides, or wiped watery eyes, it was obvious I wasn’t the only one.
“Well, gods-be-damned, what did I miss?” came a loud voice behind me.
The laughter faded quickly. I turned to Hamath, surprised in more ways than one. I still wasn’t used to the way he now cursed the gods, even in a general sense.
As we all stared dumbly in his direction, Reuma finally answered his question. “Ira and Dekar were arguing about a card game.”
“And it ended in laughter? Things have definitely changed.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked. The question came out more accusatory that I meant it to be.
Thankfully, Hamath didn’t seem to notice. Or if he did, he showed no signs of caring.
He smiled. “Honestly, I wanted to be dealt in. Kind of miss playing with everyone.”
That caused me to relax.
“Deal him in, Dek. You might actually beat someone now,” said Ira.
Before Dekar could respond, Hamath found a seat near me. “You might want to worry about yourself, Ira. I plan to embarrass you both.”
“You’re on, you red-haired piece of garbage.”
The laughs returned then, at least among me, Ira, Dekar, and Hamath. The exchange felt so natural it was like Hamath had never left. Like he belonged. Maybe things hadn’t changed as much as I had thought.
That feeling increased as we played the first few hands. Hamath ended up winning most of them. Ira did manage to win the last hand as he pulled a card out of his rear no one expected. His victory resulted in a nice rant about how great he was. It didn’t end until Reuma gave him a glance that said she had heard enough.
Hamath ribbed him for that, but all in good fun.
During the next game, Hamath volunteered. “So, I’m assuming Tyrus told everyone what happened to me after you dropped me off, right?”
The shift in conversation surprised me, as did his sudden seriousness.
“More or less,” said Ira flatly while organizing his hand. His response was guarded.