Resurrected Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Three (10 page)

Damaris reached down beside her. “I’ve got a small heel of bread. Looks like you could use it.”

Ava took it without hesitation and bit. “Read my mind,” she garbled between chewing the dry bread. “Beulah made this?”

“Yeah.”

“Thought so.” She took another bite. “Woman can’t cook to save her life.”

“Guess there wasn’t much need at the Soiled Dove.”

“Probably not. I shouldn’t fault her much. She is trying.”

Silence stretched between them. Ava didn’t know what to say, so she let it remain as she busied herself with the bread.

“You’re not going to tell me to hold out hope that Father is still alive, are you?” Damaris finally asked.

“No. I’m not,” Ava said with much resignation.

Damaris regarded her. “Of course. You know better. You’ve been around these sorts of situations more than others. You understand the hard truths.”

“Something like that.”

“I thought others would have started to understand that by now too. Gods, we’ve been through enough. Yet, look at them.” She gestured to several people waiting at the gate house. “Or those.” She motioned to the top of the barracks where three stood staring at the backdrop of low mountains. “They’re so certain that those Nason sent out are going to return with my father and the others that left with him. Several told me as much. Said I shouldn’t give up hope. Do you know what I told them?”

“No.”

“I’m not giving up hope. I’m mourning so I’ll be ready to move on all the sooner. That’s what my father would have wanted.”

You raised a strong daughter, Sivan.

“Knowing your father, I’d say that’s about right.”

There was another long pause. During it Ava found her heart tightening at the old tailor’s likely death. He was one of the few people she had met and liked since returning to Denu Creek.

Damaris sucked her teeth. “You’re not saying a whole lot.”

“You seem to have a lot of it worked out already.”

“Tyrus always had something to say.”

Ava shrugged. “I’m not him.”

“I didn’t mean—”

Ava waved a hand dismissively. She had grown used to comparisons with her brother long ago. “I know what you meant.”

“So why did you come over here?” She nodded at the crumbs in Ava’s hand. “For the bread?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Ava forced a smile. “No. Just looked like you could use some company.”

Damaris reached over and squeezed Ava’s arm. “Thank you.”

CHAPTER 8

For the first week of training, I primarily focused on general conditioning and foot drills.

Foot drills were crucial to any army worth its salt. They allowed a commander to move small units all the way up to large platoons from one place to another in an orderly manner. Besides that, they instilled habits of precision and response as well as reinforced behavior that soldiers needed as a group.

At least that was the textbook definition I was fed in my first couple months in the military more than a decade ago.

I had thought then the drills were not that important. Older and hopefully a little wiser, I now believed every word of that definition. I had seen and experienced its benefits more than once.

If any army couldn’t react accordingly to the most basic commands that foot drills reinforced, it had no chance of carrying out anything other than running at the enemy like a group of wild men. Although there was a time and a place for such a strategy, or lack thereof, it didn’t happen often. With our lack of numbers, I doubted it would ever come into any of my future battle plans.

Each day, men marched over open land as well as obstacles and uneven terrain. I had them start with a twenty-man-wide formation that narrowed down to a two-man-wide formation before climbing back up to twenty. All the while, we tried to maintain a pace of one hundred and twenty steps per minute.

We didn’t succeed often.

We improved quite a lot, but we were still far from where I wanted.

After a week, I shifted the focus on drills of companies to squads. In the heat of battle at Hol, that’s how I expected most movements would occur. With our current numbers, there just weren’t enough of us to make up a large battalion to sweep in to cover a weakened flank.

I was conveying those thoughts to the fifty men who stood before me. Each was a newly promoted platoon, company, or squad commander, hand-chosen by me, Ira, and Dekar. Most were veterans, though some of the greener men had shown enough promise to be promoted as well.

In my mind, they were probably the fifty most important men in the army. The right leaders could make or break us. I felt confident about the choices, but I wouldn’t know how good they truly were until our first battle.

“Speed and precision are going to be crucial to our success,” I said. “In the Geneshan War, there were times that in certain battles our numbers were equal to or greater than the enemy’s. Even when they weren’t, there was never so much disparity that it caused a huge disadvantage for us. However, this time around the enemy will outnumber us.”

The men exchanged worried glances.

“I’m telling you this not to make you scared, but to be honest. I want you each to know what we’re facing so you’ll understand how we train and later why certain orders are given in the heat of battle. We’ll need to strike hard and retreat before the enemy recovers. We’ll need to create confusion, and take advantage of that confusion with other weapons at our disposal.”

“Sir, what kind of other weapons?” a voice shouted.

I grinned savagely in a way that spoke of hidden information our enemy would crap themselves about if they knew beforehand what awaited them. “The kind that kills a lot of them in a not too pleasant manner.”

Grins formed before me, the sort that matched what I hoped mine looked like. I took that as a successful bluff.

The truth was I had no secret weapons I could bring into battle. Nothing at least, except three High Mages Balak kept close to his chest. Still, some lies are necessary. In fact, lies that put a man’s mind at ease so he can better focus on his task are the ones I fully support. I figured I could always deflect, or come up with something to explain a lack of “weapons” used in any future battle should the topic come up again.

“Now,” I continued, “our drills will continue to start at a battalion level and then a platoon level, but they are going to quickly move down to company and squad levels where our focus will remain. We’ve assigned soldiers to companies, but I’m going to allow you to pick your own squads tonight. Don’t get too caught up in who picks who. No bickering and fighting. It’s important that your men believe that each and every one of them were your first choice. We need to build confidence, not break it down.” I surveyed the group, glad that they all looked attentive and in agreement with me. “Starting tomorrow, your squads will do everything together—march, eat, sleep, even hold each other’s hands while taking a leak if you think it will increase the comradery among them. It’s important that your squad learns to function not as individuals, but as one body with multiple appendages. And it’s important that they learn to do this sooner than later.”

I may have sounded worried, but it couldn’t be prevented. According to Balak, we were down to seven weeks before we’d be in Hol. Nowhere near the time I wanted or needed.

To make matters worse, we wouldn’t have just one big battle where at the end winners would be claimed and everyone could call it a day. There would be smaller battles and skirmishes along the way. It was crucial that we were just as ready for those smaller confrontations. Win those smaller battles, and the confidence I was so desperately trying to instill would come quickly.

I eyed the men with narrowed eyes, studying them, seeing if I could already determine if there were any who didn’t belong. It would be easier to make adjustments now than after selecting squads. They all belonged.

“All right. Everyone dismissed. Pick your squads. Let them know how things are going to be, and then everyone tie down for the night. Tomorrow the real training begins.”

* * *

I was at the end of the latrine, staring at the back of the D’engiti tent. An intense need to empty my bladder occupied a portion of my thoughts. I was in the right spot to do so. I could piss my own pants and none would be the wiser. Still, I refrained. Something about doing that just didn’t seem right.

I cursed my nerves as I poked my head out, looking for any dangers.

Nothing.

I reached into my pouch and drew out the fist-sized globe created by the Council of High Mages. Inside was enough power to destroy the D’engiti tent as well as a portion of the camp around it.

It was pretty unremarkable in appearance, disappointing really. I expected something flashy coming from the Council of High Mages, maybe some designs, a glowing center, anything. But it just looked like a ball of dried clay with three oval markings—one on the top, one on the bottom, and another in between.

I spared one last glance around the area, then jumped out of the latrine and went into a full sprint. There was some initial slipping and sliding considering where my boots had just been, but eventually I made it to my goal at the back of the D’engiti tent. I knelt, dug a small hole with my hands, and laid the globe inside.

I pushed down on the top and bottom markings with one hand while rapidly pressing the center marking ten times as instructed by the High Mage who had given the globe to me.

A small, blue pulse glowed through the clay exterior. I smiled as I thought of my earlier criticism.

With the device activated, it was time to get back to camp and into a bath of some sort.

Unfortunately, two massive D’engiti rounded the corner of the tent. I don’t know how I didn’t hear their approach, but that would be something to rack my brain about later when I didn’t have to worry about dying.

I froze in place, hoping to remain beneath their notice. But it was too late. Their massive heads swung my way. Big white eyes widened as they locked in on me.

“Molak-be-damned,” I hissed.

* * *

The real training began before dawn, not long after I shook off the chills from yet another series of dreams that had me reliving events I wished to forget, especially the last one that finally woke me from my nightmares.

Ira joked that I only had everyone training so early to remind them I was still a mule despite handing out promotions the day before.

I smiled at the comment.

Watching the slow-moving chaos of men waking up and stumbling to form ranks showed me what I needed to see.

I ordered a five mile run for everyone, led by Reuma.

She gave a nod while holding back a grin. If anyone else would have seen the held-back grin, they might have been surprised. Some seemed to think I was punishing her as well, but she was one of my best conditioned soldiers. Having her keep the pace would only make the run harder for everyone else. Plus, it would continue to reinforce the idea to those soldiers who hadn’t gotten with it, that she was every bit as good as they were. In some ways, better.

I got a lot of deadly stares for ordering the run. I held every one of them until the other man looked away. That was a competition I wouldn’t lose.

I added one last command before the run began. “All squad and company leaders hang back. We’ve got something else to work on.”

The looks on the soldiers’ faces seemed to brighten as they likely thought I was going to give their officers a worse punishment for the morning’s failure. I let them believe that though it wasn’t exactly true.

I pulled the officers close.

“Men, I ran the exercise this morning to reinforce the idea of how important it is we’re ready for anything. There’s a chance that we could be attacked at night. If so, we can’t just wake up, rub our eyes, take a piss, scratch ourselves, grab some water, and then decide to confront the enemy. Remember, speed and precision. If you have to start timing men while they take a crap, do it.” That earned a few chuckles. “We have to practice it with everything we do, until it becomes part of who we are. For you veterans, this should be an easier thing to accomplish.”

I could tell they understood.

“All right, everyone line up. Ten rows of five. On the double.”

They moved quickly.

“Starting today, we’re going to stress individual combat. I know many of you already know how to fight, as do many of your men. However, I’m going to pretend you don’t know anything for a moment and I want you to do the same. I’m going to show you five movements. Many of you veterans will remember these five from our own basic training way back when. That’s good. Then you’ll be ahead of the game. While the others are running, we’re going to perform those five movements over and over until I think you have them perfect. Then you’re going to do them again. Hopefully, we’ll all have them down when the others return. Then we’re going to break out into squads and have your men do the same movements under your supervision.”

I took a long breath, surveying the group, making sure none wore a questioning look but were too afraid to speak up.

I went on. “We’ll do them without an opponent. We’ll pair off and do them. We’ll do them in groups against another group. We’re going to drill those five movements every day until you and your men are doing them in your sleep. You need to stress that if they can master these five movements, they’ll be a step ahead of most men in battle because rarely does a real fight last more than a couple moves.”

“Will we add to those five, sir?” asked one of the greener men I had recruited.

“Eventually. If we have time and everyone is able to execute these five properly.”

I looked around, giving others a chance to ask a question. None took the opportunity, so I readied myself.

“All right men. The first time will be slow. Watch and study me. The second time through, I’ll go slow again, and I want you to mimic me. Third time through we’ll increase the pace and keep doing so until we’re at full speed. By then, me, Dekar, and Ira will be walking around and checking form. If anyone has got it down, I’ll pull you out to help with others. On my mark.”

* * *

The day went surprisingly well. We still stunk pretty hard as a fighting force, but we at least stunk slightly less than we had before dawn. If we kept up that sort of progress we might be relatively decent by the time we had our first real test against the enemy.

After dismissing everyone for the day, those I had selected to make up my personal unit had the unfortunate luxury of participating in extra drills. It was a necessary evil since I couldn’t spend as much time working them during the day while overseeing training for the entire army.

I felt bad, especially for Boaz, who was the only person from Denu Creek I kept in my unit. The others were folded in elsewhere. Admittedly, Boaz didn’t bring as much to the table as the veterans that made up my squad, but I felt a greater obligation to ensuring his survival. Given how winded he looked, I doubted he fully appreciated my concern in the moment.

“Maneuver four,” I said, voice carrying through the dark night.

I knew I was pushing it, but I still wanted to get one more drill in before calling for an end. No amount of drilling would ever be enough, but what I selected was not a long one.

“Sweet son of a whore,” Ira swore under his breath.

I winced and my shoulders bunched, my body reacting to the comment before my brain did. I never even used to give those phrases a second thought. I even uttered them. Now though, knowing what Lasha had been forced to resort to for her and the kids to survive, they stung. I didn’t reply, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. And honestly, it seemed that Ira and others who knew about Lasha’s story hadn’t used those sayings as often as before.

Still, the language earned a slap from Reuma. She also had once been part of that profession. I heard others make similar comments in her presence. Probably because they didn’t know her history, or probably because they didn’t care.

However, she expected more from Ira.

“By Xank, what was that for?” he said looking at her.

She stared, eyes narrowed.

I could see him playing back in his mind what he had just said. Likely it had all been reflex. “Oh. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it. It was just words.”

“Just because the words are empty to you, doesn’t mean they’re empty to others.”

He frowned, then bobbed his head. “I’m sorry.”

She turned away from him, ready to carry out my orders. The rest of my unit had watched the exchange while trying not to make it obvious. Some excelled in that area better than others.