It was night again by the time I started toward Balak’s tent. We had been stuck behind enemy lines for nearly half a day before someone picked us up. I lost one other member of my unit during that time. Omar apparently had internal injuries. He collapsed while laughing at one of Ira’s attempts at humor. Ava never even had a chance to look him over before he stopped breathing.
I tried to push my thoughts aside. It wasn’t easy.
The mood around camp changed drastically the farther from the infirmary I walked. If I hadn’t known any better I might have wondered if our army had suffered any casualties at all.
Men from all over Turine congregated around newly tapped barrels of ale. They laughed with half-full cups in hand, happy that there would be no more fighting. It didn’t matter who you were or what you looked like before joining the army, once you fought next to a man in battle, you became brothers.
I passed by the hangers-on attached to any army. Merchants near carts peddled indulgences of all types, trying to convince soldiers their coin was best spent with them. Lines twenty men deep stood in front of each cart. Victory loosened the purse of even the stingiest man, and the merchants smiled ever wider because of it.
Despite the activity at the merchant wagons, none of those lines could rival the rowdy ones waiting for the whores outside their tents. Many men wanted to celebrate the victory and release excess energy carried over from battle. Others just wanted the soft embrace of a woman after coming so close to death.
The guard outside of Balak’s tent pulled back the flap as I walked up. That was a first. Either the general was in a great mood and couldn’t wait to thank me or he needed someone’s rear to lay into and mine was his first choice. Thankfully, I didn’t see how it could be the latter.
Inside, Balak sipped from a glass of wine, looking pleased with the state of things.
“Tyrus. How’re you feeling?”
“Better, sir,” I answered as the flap closed behind me. “Congratulations on the victory. I hear your decision along the western front worked out for the best.”
He set the glass down and nodded. “It did. The Geneshans were hoping to flank us. They weren’t expecting to run into such resistance.” He grunted. “The mages are acting like the victory should be theirs though. Lazy fools finally decided to pull their weight around here and now they expect all the accolades I sweated years for.”
I chose not to respond. It was no secret that Balak and the High Mages didn’t get along. Both resented the other since they each answered to no one but the king himself.
I changed the subject. “I hear terms of peace have already been worked out.”
“Yes.” His smile returned. “Once they learned your unit had the artifact, they agreed to pretty much anything we demanded so long as we swore not to use the thing. Have you seen it?”
“No, sir. We thought it best not to open the box it was in.”
“Nothing wrong with taking a look. Here,” he said while going behind the table still adorned with maps.
He pulled out the wooden box we took from the Geneshans. It looked unimpressive. Made of oak, it held no engravings or paints.
He flipped the lid and I moved closer to peer inside.
The artifact was carved from the same wood as the box. It was ugly as sin with the body of a turtle and the head of some sort of insect with long antennae and big, round eyes. I had seen better craftsmanship from the merchants peddling their wares to our army.
“It doesn’t look like much, does it?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Is that supposed to be Beel?”
He grunted. “You know, I didn’t think to ask. If it is, I understand their religion even less than before.”
A strange pulse of sorcery radiated off the artifact. It made the hair on my arms stand up.
“Even with my resistance I can feel the power coming off it. Any reason why the Geneshans never used this thing on us?”
He took a sip of wine. “Because they’re scared of it. You weren’t here for the peace talks. I think they wish they never found the thing. Apparently, there’s some ancient prophecy that says if used, the artifact will end the world.”
“And now we have it.”
He nodded.
I snorted. “And they’re serious?”
His face grew stern. “You should have seen how quickly they agreed to terms. They couldn’t stop going on about how the sky would change color, the earth would shake, fire would rain down from the heavens. Plants and animals would change-”
“And us?”
“Lots of death. Lots of sickness. Chaos.” He paused and shook his head. “So long as we promised not to use the artifact, I think they would have crawled around on their hands and knees kissing our rear for the next year in order to avoid their prophecies. As it is, they agreed to become a vassal of Turine.”
I doubted anyone had predicted the Geneshan Empire ever becoming a vassal. I didn’t. Even though we had gained the upper hand in the war for some time, the empire had been too big for Turine to ever hope to conquer outright. At best, most hoped for peace and maybe a bit of land west of the Golgoth River.
Balak closed the lid to the artifact and the pulse of power lessened.
“So now what happens to it?”
He lowered his voice. “Well, according to the terms of our agreement with the Geneshans, we’ll bury the thing a hundred feet below ground and never think of it again.”
Something about his tone didn’t sit right with me. “That’s not what’s going to happen, is it?”
He drained the last of his wine and poured another glass. “No. Orders from the king said I’m to hand the artifact over to the High Mages. They’re going to bring it back to Hol to study.”
“And you don’t agree with that?”
“Of course not. I’m not saying the artifact is going to end the world, but there’s obviously something there we should leave well enough alone. But you know how the High Mages think of themselves.” He sighed. “If I didn’t think it would get me hung for treason, I’d bury the thing myself and never give it up to them.” Now, he chuckled. “That would get under their skin.”
That admission startled me. Like most, Balak hated the High Mages. They treated everyone poorly, especially soldiers, whom they called an “ugly necessity” even in public. Still, I had never heard him consider going against king’s orders to defy them. Whatever he had seen or heard from the Geneshans must have convinced him they weren’t lying.
He drained another cup. “Anyway, let’s get off this sorcery nonsense. That’s not why I wanted to see you.”
“Sir?”
“You did good, Sergeant.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You’ve been a big asset to me since the war began. Even with the treaty signed, we still have a lot of clean-up. We need to make sure the Geneshan army disbands their southern forces along our border. I was thinking of promoting you to captain to help with the process. We’ve got a busy year ahead of us.”
A year? I’m not sure if it was because I still felt the effects of the concussion or not, but my stomach lurched and the room spun. I hadn’t expected the entire army to pack up and go home, but I also knew that not everyone would be needed to wrap things up. Rumors were already circulating that a very small group of people, important figures in the victory, would be discharged over the coming days. The king felt that patriotism and goodwill would be strengthened by the heroes returning home first. I had hoped that my unit would be among that first group to leave.
“Sergeant? Do I need to call for a healer?”
I shook my head, breathing slowly. “No, sir. I’m all right. It’s just. .” I paused, knowing I needed to be careful how I phrased things. Balak was in a good mood, but his mood soured quicker than milk left out in the sun.
“It’s just what?” he asked, the slightest edge coming to his voice.