Faith: The Fatted Calf

(Part of a continuing series. Previous post here, first post here.)

Jared shielded his face with his hand as he walked through the haphazardly erected tents of the Beckoner army. A stiff wind fluttered tent flaps and tugged at his backpack, chilling every unprotected inch of grimy flesh.

Smiling wearily, Jared entered the large tent at the center of the Beckoner camp - Thera's tent. A fire burned near the center of the capacious shelter, warming the soldiers who stood around it, chatting. A few were just there to get out of the cold; others were waiting to meet with Thera, whose office occupied the far half of the tent, separated from the waiting area by a thick flap. Jared smiled and waved at the soldiers and moved past them, slinging his backpack down as he went. He informed the guard at the divider of his need to see Thera, then turned back to join the other soldiers, hoping to thaw his hands out over the fire.

As he turned, Jared heard muffled speech behind him. The guard told him: "Wait." Jared obliged, surprised, and was informed momentarily that Thera would see him immediately. Looking at the waiting soldiers, Jared shrugged, and slipped through the inner divider to Thera's office.

The space was austere. Papers were stacked in boxes on the ground; more were on the desk at which Thera sat, too heavy to take on the march, and so probably looted from the latest Beckoner conquest, the village Jared had seen burning as he entered the valley. A small cot lay in the back of the room; Thera's office doubled as her bedroom. The only thing in it which showed no obvious utility was a small, half-filled box near the cot, holding, seemingly, only knick-knacks. Jared dismissed it from his mind and turned to Thera.

She rose, smiling, as Jared entered. "I'm glad to see you alive and well," she told him. "I didn't think the rabble you were fighting could threaten your health or life, but disease or accident can strike anywhere."

"I-I'm happy to see you too," Jared stammered, suddenly awkward in the presence of the General; nearly a peer, but grown to heights far beyond him. "Where are the Jhozhur, our allies? I didn't see their tents as I walked in."

"The Jhozhur are no longer part of our campaign," Thera told him. Still smiling, she asked, "But why are you back so soon - little more than a month after I sent you? Have you managed to quash the nuisance, the Intaki rabble?"

Jared's smile left his face. "It's the man you sent me with. Lar."

"What about him?" If he's insubordinate, I'm sorry, but that's a matter between you and him. Unless there's been some sort of mutiny, you can order him imprisoned, if it's become so dire."

"I did."

"Then..."

"He's a monster. He lured them in, kidnapped their children without orders, lied and claimed nothing happened on his patrols when he reported to me. I don't know where he kept them, or how. But I never knew."

"The Intaki came to rescue their children. At night, when I was sleeping. Lar ordered half the night watch - in my name! - to surround the hostages, guard them. He sent the other half to track the rescuers' trail back to their lair and slaughter them."

"He tortured the children, Thera. He cut them apart while their parents, their grandparents - and my men - watched. Then he killed the rest."

"One of the night watch - the ones assigned to guard the hostages while Lar did his filthy work - finally woke me. I looked at what was left, then ordered Lar held and set out for you."

"I don't have the authority," Jared stated, "to have him killed."

Thera thought, her face solemn. Her hands shuffled papers unthinkingly, as Jared watched with increasing concern. "Is there a problem?" he asked. "Should I have sent one of my command instead-?"

"No," said Thera, cutting him off. "I'm considering the example this would set. Yes, he circumvented the chain of command. That must be cut out at the root. I do not have a professional army, and I must exert every effort to maintain discipline. But he achieved quite spectacular results - tricking the Intaki into their own, final destruction. That deserves commendation."

"No," Thera said to an increasingly horrified Jared, "Lar has done well for the Cause. I will put him under my own direct command, keep him as an advisor. In this way, I will gain his valuable tactical insight, and be certain to control his more... willful tendencies."

"You're promoting him?" Jared asked, outraged. "But - he tortured children! He - I went into his tent, to arrest him - he'd taken some of the corpses. Some of the less... damaged ones. And in there, in his tent -"

"I'm sorry," Thera said with an apologetic look in her eyes, "But I don't care. He's done nothing to harm the Cause, and he's helped quite markedly with very limited resources. I don't care what he does, other than that. I would employ the Nine Devil Kings themselves, should they present themselves to my tent, if they served my purposes. And if they didn't - if Lar doesn't - then they'll go to their just end a little sooner than the rest of us."

Jared opened his mouth to vent an outburst.

"Stop," Thera said, interrupting him for the third time. "I can tell you're on the verge of insubordination. So take a walk. Cool down. When you return, we'll finish this, and I'll decide where you'll go next."

Jared closed his mouth, opened it again. Then, wordlessly, he turned and ducked under the tent's dividing flap, walking past the other soldiers and out into the bitterly cold wind. He stood there for a moment, just outside, his shoulders hunched. He wasn't sure what to think.

Then the wind shifted for a moment, blowing smoke from the burning village towards Jared. He covered his nose and mouth, coughing; then, struck by a thought, he uncovered them, taking a deep, unpleasant breath.

The smell of burning meat was on the air - and considering the direction, Jared doubted it was tonight's dinner.

Filled with a dreadful, sourceless apprehension, Jared began to walk towards the burning village. Most of the huts were ashes by now; the rest were merely smoldering. The smoke came from something else. Burning piles; large, lumpy piles, scattered between the burned huts. Piles,
Jared realized as he neared them, of bodies.

Covering his nose and mouth with his shirt, he walked between the piles, staring. Some of the corpses were dismembered, beheaded, burning in pieces; but most were nearly intact, killed by stab wounds, head trauma, shock. They burned slowly, reluctantly, some of them seeming almost alive as they burned.

Jared recognized one, with a shock. He was near the bottom of the pile, and nearly intact; the flame had done no more than remove most of his hair, and now it nibbled at his face. So Jared knew him: Isaac, the Jhozhur boy-warrior, with whom Jared had formed a friendship while they marched to war.

Jared put the pieces together, and realized where the Jhozhur were, and what he needed to do.

This was supposed to be another relatively-short part of Faith's story arc - to prevent authorial fatigue, I'd write up only the key events, cutting to the heart of things, and generally keeping it short.

I started writing it in class, and realized it wasn't very short at all.

No regrets!