“Take care of yourself, Big Brother.”
“You too. And be careful.”
Apparently, being close wasn’t a guarantee of saying what you felt.
My sister followed the High Mages leading the prisoners through the transfer portal.
Ava stood out among the group, but not because she was one of only three women, but because she alone disdained the robes. She wore instead, of course, her black leathers. I wondered how long it would take for them to force a change in her wardrobe. The corners of my mouth turned up as I thought of that confrontation. The High Mages would rue the day they had agreed to apprentice my sister.
Ava paused at the entrance to the portal and spun toward me. I gave her a wave. She smiled, offered a slight nod, and then was gone.
“That was maybe one of the worst good-byes I’ve ever seen in my life, Ty,” Ira said behind me. “Ow!” he added as Dekar cuffed him.
I snorted. “It was pretty bad, wasn’t it? Good thing she and I don’t need to say much. We know how things stand between us.”
And that was true. Granted, that didn’t stop me from wishing I had actually said the hundred things running through my mind. Most of all, I wished I had told her how proud I was.
It took some effort not to start bawling like a little girl when the portal closed. I hadn’t ever shed a tear in my life except when it came to family. Whether it was the happiness of watching Lasha give birth to our children or the sadness of my parents passing, family tugged at my heart the most. It really affected me to see the person who knew me better than anyone else in the world leave.
* * *
We hung around camp another three days before we were ready to depart.
Those three days took longer to pass than the nearly ten years I had spent in the army. I must have played a thousand hands of cards, lost nearly all my money twice over, and still managed to come out a few coins ahead in the end.
Finally, we set out at dawn on the fourth day.
Most soldiers sent us off with a smile and a wave despite the gods’ forsaken hour, believing their turn would come around soon enough. Others more cynical stared with jealous eyes and sneers. The faces of the latter lingered with me the most as I recalled Balak’s mention of pursuing Noval after Genesha had been cleaned up.
Though some of the army would be allowed to return home in the coming months, many seemed destined to suffer through another conflict. If successful, I wondered when Balak and the king would finally call it quits, to allow life in Turine to return to normal.
Somehow, I didn’t think they ever would. They had tasted success and had become greedy. War just might be the new norm.
Hamath and I stared at the Turine camp from the back of a rolling wagon, feet dangling over the road. Soldiers sat behind us, crammed between barrels of salted pork and oats. Other wagons were loaded similarly.
None of us said a word until long after the army faded from sight. If it wasn’t for the occasional grunt when the wagons hit a hole in the old roads, you’d think we were all asleep.
I think we were just taking time to process the return home.
We began talking about things weighing on our mind, each glad they weren’t alone in their thoughts. How many more soldiers would never return home? And why did we deserve to leave when so many others were forced to stay behind?
* * *
By evening, the depressive mood shifted to celebratory. We were on our way home.
A clear and starry night hung over us as we finished prepping our camp for the night. We formed a circle with the wagons and tethered the mounts just outside of it to graze on tall grass. Sentries patrolled the perimeter with loaded crossbows.
The war was over and we were happy, but old habits died hard. The likelihood of any bandits brave enough to try their hand at a few dozen veterans was slim, but that didn’t mean we wouldn’t prepare for such a scenario. You didn’t stay alive as long as we all had by taking things for granted.
I took my place in the chow line, behind Hamath. I hadn’t realized just how hungry I was until I caught a whiff of the night’s stew. My stomach growled.
Hamath turned. “Lasha a good cook?”
“Why you want to know?”
He shrugged. “Just curious. I can count on one hand the number of meals we’ve had over the last decade that’ve been prepared by someone outside of the army. Thought it might be something you’d look forward to.”
“I guess you’re right. The last time was what? Two and half years ago?”
“Yeah. It was when we spent a couple weeks in that city near the battle of Urtok’s Ridge. What was it called? After all this time, the places are starting to run together.”
“Awarta.”
“Yeah, Awarta. I liked it there.”
“Really? Don’t you remember all the trouble we had with them trying to poison us?”
“I remember. But outside of the poison, the food was good.”
I shook my head, chuckling. “I guess.”
“Too bad we razed the place when we left,” said Hamath. “Balak’s never been the sort of person you want to upset.”
“That might be one of the only times I ever questioned if what we were doing was the right thing.”
“What do you mean? The Geneshans invaded us, remember?”
“Yeah, but to kill the women and children too?” I whispered. “I still hear their screams sometimes when I close my eyes at night, and I wasn’t even the one to set the houses to flame.”
We shuffled up the line in silence. I noticed the conversations around us had faded and heads were down. Apparently, I had been too loud. The smell of the stew no longer had the appeal of a few moments ago, but I knew better than to step out of line. In the army, you ate anytime you could. Otherwise, you might regret the missed opportunity later.
Conversations eventually started back up again, and I managed to push away my own morose thoughts.
“Lasha’s a great cook by the way,” I managed to say while watching the steaming black cauldron.
Hamath snorted. “Somehow I knew you’d say that. That woman can do no wrong in your eyes.”
I smiled. “You’re right about that.” I paused. “What about Bilhah?”
Hamath tensed. “Hmm?”
Bilhah was Hamath’s lady friend he left behind before the war started. “Is she a good cook?”
“Yeah. Pretty good,” he replied quickly.
I grunted, deciding not to push. Over the years Hamath had talked less and less about Bilhah. A part of me wanted to ask why. Another part respected his privacy.
The soldier stuck cooking the meal for the night carefully scooped a heaping ladle full of stew into our wooden bowls. His shirt left more than enough evidence of how many times he had hurried his efforts before-brown and yellow stains decorating the front.
I examined the bowl’s contents. A bit of onion, some potato, a piece of carrot, and even a few pieces of meat. Not bad. In fact, better than most of the meals I’d had of late. I grabbed a hard biscuit from the sack next to the stew pot and followed Hamath to a small fire. Ira and Dekar were already there, the former using his fingers to get the last bit of food out of his bowl, the latter taking his time with each spoonful.
Ira looked up at us as we took our place around the fire. “What’s the word, Ty?”
I caught a glimpse of his half-missing ear. Though it looked better than it once did, the image was not a pretty one. “Huh?”
“Where are we heading first? I saw you talking to Captain Nehab earlier. Dekar thinks it’s going to be Damanhur. I told him to get his head out his rear. It’s gotta be Edema.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Why Edema?”
“Because it’s bigger and along all the major trade routes. It’s filled with all sorts of wonders, you know. I was mad we didn’t pass through there on the way to Genesha.”
I nodded to Dekar. “Why Damanhur?”
He swallowed his food. “Opposite reasons. It’s smaller, so the men are less likely to get into trouble and waste all their coin. Plus, trade routes mean nothing to us now. We’re returning home. Damanhur is a shorter distance from here too. We go to Edema, we’d add a day to our journey.”