Joshua Simon - Forgotten Soldiers

“Hundreds of thousands dead? Thousands more who suffered? I don’t want freedom if that’s the cost of keeping it,” whispered the man’s quivering voice.

“Easy to say that since your freedom was never taken from you,” I hissed. “How dare you make assumptions about me? About these men. How dare you judge us when you never had to experience what we did?” I pressed the blade against the man’s throat until a small drop of blood trickled down his neck. “You weren’t there. You never had to make the hard decisions we had to make, the ones every soldier has to make. You never had to watch the man you laughed with the night before cry for his mother as he died. You never had to watch a man who trusted you, a man under your command, helplessly hold his guts in. You never had to look in that man’s eyes and lie, telling him everything would be all right. And until you do, you have no right to judge any of us.”

“What do you want?” one of the other men from town called.

I looked up trying to find the owner of the voice. Nervous expressions stared back at me. Fear dominated the looks in their eyes where before there was anger. Despite that fear, they still held weapons ready while eyeing the scythe in my hand. They’d pounce on us if I killed their leader.

I swallowed, the spit hanging up as it slid down my throat. I took a breath, lowering my voice. “I only want what we came for. You pay us the price agreed upon for the horses and wagons and allow us to buy supplies at the feed store. Then we’re gone.”

“If we do that, do we have your word, no harm will come to anyone?” said the same voice from earlier. It belonged to a man with a round face and a rounder belly. A line of sweat down the middle of his shirt split his stomach in half like a cut melon.

“You have my word. We did not start the events that happened in Damanhur.”

“We can make that deal. You mind letting him go?” he asked, gesturing to their leader.

I lowered the scythe, but pinned the man’s arm as I spun him around. I had been around too long to let my guard down at a kind voice. “I’d like to, but you’ve given me no reason to trust you. He stays with me until our business is done. You cross us, he dies. And after that you’ll be next. I’ll kill every last one of you myself if anyone tries to stop me from getting home. Am I clear?”

The man hesitated for a moment. My gut tightened.

Finally, he nodded and began giving orders to the other villagers.

* * *

We got out of town as fast as we could. Weapons stayed out until the place was a tiny speck in the distance behind us. I didn’t think those ranchers would be dumb enough to come after us, but then again, I never thought they’d have been dumb enough to try anything to begin with.

We didn’t make camp until well after dusk and when we did, I made sure we were well off the road. I doubled the watch and even set up a few trip lines. If there had been time and enough men, I might’ve even dug a trench with stakes.

The mood in camp wasn’t quite as bad as it was after Damanhur. The knowledge that we were all so close to home helped. It was easier to believe that Kafr was so inhospitable because none of us were from there.

I hoped that was true.

* * *

After dinner, card games broke out. Ira came over with a stick of tobacco and offered me a bite. I hated the stuff usually, but for some reason felt like having a piece. Anything to help take my mind off Kafr.

I took a bite and immediately regretted it. It tasted worse than it smelled, like coffee grounds and boiled leather. Ira told me that meant it was a good brand. I worked the stuff around my mouth until I had it positioned in my cheek. Off my tongue, it became tolerable.

Ira sat beside me. “Doing all right?”

I spat. “About as good as one can expect.”

“I hear you. Crazy stuff back there.”

“Yeah. Hoped we had left all that stupidity behind.”

Ira chuckled. “You know stupidity doesn’t work like that. That stuff spreads like crotch rot. I wouldn’t be surprised if half of Turine has heard about Damanhur by now.”

“I’ve wondered the same. Hopefully, Balak got Nehab’s message. Maybe he can get the king to put a stop to this nonsense before it gets worse. Make it easier on the others who come home after us.”

He spat. “Maybe. Though you heard that man with the scythe. Most of what they were worked up about had nothing to do with Damanhur. That had just been the tipping point. He brought up stuff that had been going on since the war began.”

“Yeah.”

“You know they gave me and Dekar that speech about duty when the army recruited us. Unlike you and Ava, we were dumb enough to actually join on our own.”

“Really?” Somehow after ten years, I hadn’t known that.

He nodded. “Bunch of morons we were.” He snorted. “The bones of those kids you mentioned. . that was in El Ghriba, right?”

I nodded.

“Yeah, that got to a lot of people. Cemented my resolve in what we were fighting for, you know. We had to stop the Geneshans. Who else was going to stop them if we didn’t? They had already conquered four nations.” He paused “I know you were pressed into the army, but did you ever really feel a sense of duty to what we were doing?”

“Sure. Sometimes. Like you said, it was hard not to after stuff like El Ghriba.”

“What about now?”

I blew out a slow breath. “On occasion, but less and less as the days wear on. You?”

He spat. “Nope. Not anymore.”

“What did it?”

“One of those villages that man talked about us burning. Hadera. We were making our final sweep after they allowed us to evacuate it before we razed the place. I found a baby crying in a basket under one of the beds. Xank knows what parent would have left their kid like that. Of course, the parents might have been dead for all I know. Anyway, I grabbed the baby out the basket and walked back to camp. Balak saw me and called me over.”

Ira changed his voice to Balak’s, stiff and deep. “Son, what are you doing with that baby?”

“I found him, sir. Left behind in Hadera,” he answered back in his own voice.

“And?” he said once again while imitating Balak’s voice.

“Thought I’d give him to one of the whores. I know it ain’t the best life for a kid, but at least it’s something.”

“And are you going to become that baby’s surrogate father too?”

“Honestly sir, I haven’t thought about it much. Probably wouldn’t hurt for him to have someone around while I can do it.”

“That’s what I thought. Give me the baby.”

“Sir?”

“I’ll take care of things.”

“How?”

“Give it to me, son, or find yourself in the stockades!”

Ira laughed. “Well what was I going to do, Ty? I didn’t want the stockades so I gave him the baby.” He spat, then worked the tobacco around his jaw. “He took care of him all right. I saw one of his aids burying the child during third watch near the latrines that night. I dug him back up to know for certain and saw his lips were all blue and there was some bruising around the mouth. Likely smothered. I realized then just how awful a person Balak was and what sort of person the king was for promoting him to general. It also said what sort of people we all were for following them both.”

We sat in silence, watching the flames dance for some time. I always had issues with Balak, but never did I think he was that cruel. Something dawned on me. “That aid. That was Jahleel, wasn’t it?”

He spat. “Yep.”

I remembered Jahleel dying around that time. Strangled with a belt. Body dumped in the latrines. No one knew who had done it though Balak did his best to find out. I put two and two together.