Resurrected Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Three (3 page)

I faced a man wearing the long brown robes of a healer. Like most in his profession, he looked overworked. Bags rested under his dark eyes and long lines marked his face. He was probably near my age despite looking almost fifteen years older. Because of the demands placed on them, healers weren’t known to have long life spans.

“I’m looking for the man in charge.”

“That would be me. I’m Noam. And you are?”

“Tyrus.”

He bobbed his head in a way that made him appear impressed. “The man who ended the war.”

I snorted. “Not my place to take credit for that. Especially since that war was only replaced by another.”

“Just so. What can I help you with?”

“Information. The general state of things here.”

A man groaned somewhere to my right. I refused to look, afraid of what I might see.

“You mind if we step outside?” I asked.

He nodded and led the way out.

The cleaner open air did wonders for my focus.

“What is your staff like?” I asked.

“Six cutters and four healers, including myself.”

“That’s it? Why so few?”

“We lost many healers after the first eruption, more after the second. There were only so many with a resistance available to negate the sorcerous affects and Balak used them for some purpose he never shared with me. As a result, several healers never recovered. Several more died while pushing themselves to help soldiers those with a resistance didn’t get around to.”

I shook my head at Balak’s stupidity. Why would he do that? What could be more important than saving healers and the lives of his soldiers? That wasn’t like him.

“Why only six cutters?” I asked, getting back on topic.

He shrugged. “It’s not a job men volunteer for. They have to be assigned. And if I had to guess, I’m sure Balak would prefer to have a man carry a sword on the front line than hold a cutting knife behind it.”

I grunted. “I noticed some men with the runs earlier. Not sure if it was something they ate or if it could be the start of something more serious.”

He sighed. “Where? I’ll go heal them.”

“No.”

“No?”

“At least not without an evaluation. I know the old habit was just to heal without asking questions. But if we keep up that practice, you and the others aren’t going to be worth anything when you’re needed most. From now on, you’re to evaluate every person before treating them. So long as it isn’t a disease that could spread and infect a large number of men, you’ll treat them with herbs, rest, and time. No sorcery. That’ll keep your strength up as we get closer to Hol. Get the cutters to help. The name might imply surgery, but I know they’re capable of more.”

The man almost started to smile, “That would help.” He paused. “But we’d need more resources to treat the soldiers that way.”

“What do you need?”

“More people with at least half a mind who I can teach to fetch and mix potions and poultices. Others with not so much of a mind, but a strong back to keep the infirmary and equipment clean.”

“How many?”

“A dozen would be a good start.”

“Done.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Really? Can you do that?”

In truth, I didn’t know how much power Balak had planned on giving me. As far as I knew, I was to act as a consultant of sorts. However, I also knew that if I attributed any order I made as coming from Balak, he’d likely not go against what I had said so long as I didn’t overstep myself.

“Of course I can. Now what else can I get you?”

* * *

I left Noam a few minutes later after going over what else the man might need. Unfortunately, some of his needs were more desires. In the new world of gray, some plants were practically impossible to obtain. I’d have men looking for them as we marched, but I was doubtful we’d find much.

With the infirmary off my list and Boaz, Zev, and Caleb safe, I decided to move on to bigger things.

Balak.

I wasn’t sure how long it would take for him to call me but I knew he held the most information.

The outside of Balak’s tent was guarded by six men, all of which I recognized immediately. Each had once been part of the elite units. Though theirs varied in strength, all had a resistance to sorcery like me.

“State your business,” said one in a harsh tone.

It was Etan, a man who had served six years as a special units leader. He and I weren’t close, but we had gotten along well enough. Mostly that was because I never had to worry about his unit and he in turn never had to worry about mine.

The ability to get a job done and stay out of each other’s way increased anyone’s likeability.

I gave him a nod. “Hello, Etan.”

“State your business.”

I raised an eyebrow at the lack of acknowledgement. “I’m here to see the general.”

He grunted, poked his head inside, and announced me. There was a low response I couldn’t quite hear. Etan stepped aside after it and opened the tent wordlessly.

I gave him a questioning look, but he paid me no mind. Maybe we hadn’t gotten along as well as I had thought. There definitely wasn’t going to be any nostalgic conversations about the good old days.

That might not be a bad thing. I couldn’t really recall any good old days.

I stepped inside and bit down a snort as Balak examined maps spread over a simple table in the center of the tent. The size and condition of the army had changed, as had apparently past relationships, but Balak’s tent looked exactly like the last time I was inside. Besides the table, there were a few piles of clothes in the corner, a bedroll, and a single oil lamp hanging on the center support pole. In less than two breaths, I could smell nothing else but the odor of that burning oil.

We had just won a war the last time I was inside his tent, ready to go home. Not even a year later, I had no home.

But I sure had another war.

My mind wandered to the men I lost on top that high hill when taking out the Geneshan post and capturing their cursed artifact. They gave their lives and in the grand scheme of things, it hadn’t done a bit of good.

Such thoughts did little for my mood which grew worse by the moment as I waited for Balak to acknowledge me. He hadn’t even looked up from his map yet.

I hoped whatever attitude Etan had outside wasn’t spreading like the runs I noticed earlier.

“You going to just stand there all day, Tyrus?” asked Balak, head still down.

“I guess not,” I said, walking over.

I stopped beside him and stared down.

Much like Dekar and I had begun making adjustments and notes to the map we had used after the eruptions, Balak had done the same to his. However, Balak’s changes were far more extensive, and made with much greater care. Considering the clean lines, and careful notes about them, I easily imagined him standing over his table for hours.

No wonder the army seemed neglected.

It was a startling revelation. Balak was not an innovative leader, but he was far from incompetent. It made me wonder what had happened for him to overlook the health and overall discipline of his men.

I planned to ask, but I knew that I needed to wait for the right moment.

“My army is crap, Tyrus. Don’t think I don’t know it.”

Sometimes the right moment comes sooner than expected.

“It definitely needs work,” I said. Since he brought it up, there was no need to dance around the issue. “I noticed that—”

“I need you to get my army ready for battle. Part of your job is to see that my men are trained, drilled, and healthy. We’ll hold enough disadvantages against the enemy as it is.” He ran his hand through graying hair that looked noticeably thinner than it was at the end of the Geneshan War. “I know you’re wondering how things got so out of hand. You know this isn’t me. But I’ve had to put my attention elsewhere. I had hoped your buddy Hamath would straighten things out, but he doesn’t have the ability to see the full picture as you do, despite what he thinks. Plus, I admittedly keep him so busy scouting, he doesn’t have time for what I need done.”

“Sir, I have questions—”

“I know you do. Let me try to catch you up first.”

I was surprised at how forthright he was being. He was much calmer than I expected. I’m sure the fact that we were alone helped. In a large group, I doubted Balak’s demeanor would be the same.

“It all started with that mess in Damanhur,” he said with a sigh.

I refrained from commenting. I was glad he was going that far back since I only knew what Ava had told us.

“I was mad at what had happened to you and the others. I petitioned the king to do something about it. He was weighing his options when the Council of High Mages convinced him it was an isolated incident instigated by my men, and it would be a waste of resources to send government officials to Damanhur. That angered me so I took matters into my own hands. I sent the next wave of soldiers home, ordering them not to bypass Damanhur. No one was supposed to instigate anything, but no one was to back down either. I wanted to let not only them, but others know soldiers would not be pushed around and intimidated.

“In hindsight, it was a bad decision. I really didn’t expect the town to react so poorly. I should have known better. Why wouldn’t they attack another set of returning veterans when they didn’t even get a slap on the wrist the first time?” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, genuinely upset. His jaw clenched, then relaxed. “Once I learned that Damanhur attacked and killed that group, I was sick. I petitioned the king one last time to do something, but again nothing. I couldn’t let it go so I marched the whole gods-be-damned army down there.” His eyes glazed over as if recalling the events. Balak was never one to show much in the way of emotions, but recounting the tale obviously brought up feelings he did his best to hide. “I razed the city to the ground. Not a soul survived. Man, woman, or child. Some might call me a monster for that. And maybe I was, or I am, but I’d do it again. They deserved it.”

Even remembering my own experiences with Damanhur, I doubted the idiocy had infected the entire populace, certainly not the minds of young children. Still, I knew Balak well enough that arguing would only derail him from sharing more of his story. I pushed aside my sickness at the loss of innocent life and waited for him to continue.

He continued. “The king and the Council of High Mages didn’t like my brand of justice. I knew they wouldn’t. I was ready for them when they sent several High Mages to arrest me. When they came in through the transfer portal, men with a resistance attacked and left none alive. That severed my relationship with the king. At that point, I had two options, leave Turine and use the army to work for some other king, or march on Hol and set our country back on the right path. It wasn’t a decision. I couldn’t abandon Turine.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, come now, Tyrus. Would you have rather I’d turned myself in?”

“I didn’t say that.”

And I never would. I knew better. Turning himself in would have been like admitting his sense of justice was wrong. Such an admission was a far cry from his earlier comment about not doing all he should as of late to ready his army.

“But you were thinking it. No, I wasn’t going to let my men deal with being mistreated any longer. Laws protecting soldiers need to be made. Attitudes need to change. That wouldn’t have happened with the Council of High Mages whispering constantly in the king’s ear. Before long, he would have been king in name only. Tell me I’m wrong.”

I ignored his request. The last thing I wanted to do was get into the ins and outs of politics, or debate his past decisions. I just wanted information to better decide the future.

“So you marched on Hol.”

“If I couldn’t convince the king to change, then it would be better that I wore the crown. I know I wouldn’t let someone influence me so directly. And I know I can rule fairly.”

I bit my tongue at that. Every man is fair in their own eyes, Balak included.

Ira would take a lot of issue with Balak’s declaration. I’m sure hundreds of innocent souls who had the unfortunate luck of being in Damanhur when Balak had marched on the city would also disagree.

He continued. “I never thought they’d use the artifact. I guess I should have considered it. I had already handled their other efforts to get rid of me and the Council of High Mages knew that if I succeeded in supplanting the king, I’d punish them.”

All that Balak had said thus far had mirrored the events as Ava reported them. Maybe that was why my reaction to hearing them wasn’t as strong as it might have been if hearing them for the first time. I still found the chain of events surrounding the eruptions sad as any number of people could be blamed for them. If Balak had turned himself in to the king, or had never marched on Damanhur, the Council of High Mages would not have used the artifact to stop him. However, if the people of Damanhur had not been so cruel to us, Balak wouldn’t have escalated the situation with them.

“Tell me about the artifact.”

I tried to keep the eagerness from my voice, but it was difficult. I had so many questions about recent events and finally I was speaking with someone who could give me answers.

“It happened in the evening. We had made camp three days outside of Hol. I was in my tent, staring at this map, thinking of the best way to breach the city. Then out of nowhere hell opened its doors. The thunderous noise, the bright, flashing light, the shaking of the ground.” He shook his head. “Then there was this immense pressure that sucked all the air right out of me. I lost consciousness.

“I woke a bit later with Etan’s hand on me. He and others with a resistance figured out that the attack was sorcerous. Told me several thousand soldiers had already died. Thousands more could die at any moment, many eventually did. Those who were alive and recovering were doing so because those with a resistance were helping them. I’d have died too, if not for Etan.” He closed his hand into a fist. “I knew it was the artifact as soon as I learned what I had missed. At first, I thought the council had managed to effectively harness the artifact’s power to attack me. It was only after I retreated that I saw what else had been affected. Then I knew the artifact’s power had gotten away from them. Those idiot High Mages really botched things. And to think they had been warned more than once by the Geneshans too.”

Other books

Memorias de Adriano by Marguerite Yourcenar
Adorkable by Cookie O'Gorman
Woodsburner by John Pipkin
God's Fool by Mark Slouka
MATT HELM: The War Years by Wease, Keith
Nobody's Child by Austin Boyd
Conquistadors of the Useless by Roberts, David, Terray, Lionel, Sutton, Geoffrey