CHAPTER SIXTEEN - LAWFUL ORDERS

Raedrick’s heartbeat filled his ears, the thudding so loud he almost couldn’t hear the screams of wounded and dying men all around him. He paid neither sound any mind; his only focus was the man in front of him and the movement of the man’s sword.

They had danced around each other for an eternity. Three passes and still neither had struck home with his weapon. Through the prism of his concentration, Raedrick felt a grudging respect for the man. He was the enemy, yes, and his nation had waged brutal war against Raedrick’s homeland. But he was skilled and he fought with honor. It was hard not to appreciate that.

All around him, men on both sides of the battle had stopped their fighting. Those in the immediate vicinity formed a loose ring around him and his opponent. All eyes watched as though entranced; all enmity was forgotten before the spectacle of the mighty duel.

Flexing his fingers on the grip of his saber, Raedrick advanced slowly. The man circled to the left, and Raedrick pivoted to follow. He feinted upward, but pulled back from the true attack as the man simply countered, a lightning-fast cut at waist level that forced Raedrick to leap backwards to avoid having his guts spilled.

Landing lightly on the balls of his feet, he had to dodge aside immediately as the man followed his cut with a rising thrust toward Raedrick’s chest. He barely avoided the tip of the man’s sword by twisting his torso as he moved to the left, but he felt the blade tug at his mail for a heartbeat before he pulled clear. Slightly off balance, the only counter he could muster was a quick kick upward with the ball of his right foot.

A soft grunt accompanied the satisfying feeling of his boot striking the man’s side, and the man stumbled. Grasping his side with his left hand, he fell to the ground.

Raedrick moved in, but again the man’s reflexes nearly proved his better. Rolling onto his back, Raedrick’s foe made a wide cut at ankle height, forcing Raedrick backward just long enough for the man to spring onto his feet in a single fluid move.

They paused for a moment, eyeing each other carefully. Raedrick’s opponent removed his hand from his side and returned it to the hand-and-a-half hilt of his sword. Then he inclined his head, a gesture of respect that Raedrick returned in kind.

Just because they were trying to kill each other didn’t mean they couldn’t be civilized, after all.

Then the man advanced. His blade flicked upward, then abruptly descended toward Raedrick’s front knee. Nearly taken by the initial feint, Raedrick froze for half a heartbeat. Too late, he pivoted backwards, moving his front leg to the rear, but not before taking a deep cut to his thigh above his kneecap.

Grimacing at the flash of pain, and ignoring the cheers from several enemy soldiers as their fellow finally drew blood, Raedrick cut downward with his saber in time with his pivot. The razor-sharp edge of this weapon arced toward his opponent. The man’s eyes widened and he pushed backward off the balls of his feet, his only defensive option with his blade still whistling downward in follow-through from his cut.

Blade and man both were a blur of motion that suddenly stilled. A fine spray of red flicked from the tip of Raedrick’s saber, which was otherwise unstained. The man blinked and his jaw dropped open in bafflement as he raised his left hand to the side of his neck. As his fingers touched the skin of his throat, blood began flowing from the cut. At first it was a slow seep, then it became a spurting rush. The man’s eyes widened and he stumbled backward a half-step.

Then his sword dropped from the suddenly limp fingers of his right hand and he fell to the ground in a heap.

A low sigh seemed to emanate from the enemy forces as Raedrick’s foe fell. One and all, those nearby all wore expressions of stunned disbelief. As he watched, their fighting spirit seeped out of them, almost in time with the last of his opponent’s lifeblood as it left the wound in his neck.

The momentary lull ended as Raedrick’s comrades took up a loud, enthusiastic battle cry and surged forward, passing him on either side as they charged. The enemy fell back before their renewed onslaught. Entire platoons fell before anyone in the enemy camp tried to rally the troops, but by then it was too late. Inside of a half hour, the kingdom’s army swept the field, leaving only a few of the enemy wounded alive to see the sunset.

* * *

“Besting the enemy army’s champion in single combat, Corporal Baletier singlehandedly dealt a devastating blow to enemy morale, enabling our forces to win a decisive victory. Corporal Baletier’s unflinching bravery, unrivaled skill at arms, and stalwart example reflected great credit upon himself and were in keeping with the highest principles of service to the Throne.”

The Brigade’s Executive Officer finished reading the citation as the Colonel pinned a medal, green and blue fabric separated by a strip of gold from which dangled two miniature crossed swords made of silver, onto the breast of his dress uniform doublet.

“Congratulations, Corporal,” he said.

“Thank you sir.”

The Colonel returned his salute then turned to the assembled troops and led them in a round of applause. Raedrick stood at attention and tried not to blush at all the attention.

Soon enough, the official ceremony was over and Raedrick limped down from the podium. He was eager to get back to his tent and change into less formal and more comfortable attire. And for a bath and a good night’s sleep, followed by a week of leave back in Calas. It wasn’t often that a soldier could partake in such luxuries, but the High Command tended to pull out the stops after a great victory. And by any measure, last week’s battle had been just that.

His squad intercepted him at the bottom of the stairs. The five men he knew best in the world clustered around him, offering their congratulations along with good-natured quips, then walked with him back to their tents. It was a slow journey, and not just because of his injury. Throughout the camp, men he knew by name, by face, or not at all stopped to wish him well. One and all, they wore the exuberant expression of men who had not just survived, but conquered, in the face of what they all thought going into it was almost certain death.

The mood at their Company’s tents was more subdued though. Men were hurrying about, putting their gear in order as though getting ready for action instead of preparing to go on leave. What was going on?

The platoon Sergeant answered the question as soon as he saw Raedrick and his squad. “Leave’s cancelled. We’re heading out.”

Raedrick’s spirits, soaring high a moment ago, sank like a stone. “Where to?”

“The scouts uncovered an enemy outpost about twenty miles from here. We’re to take it out.”

* * *

The Company assembled on the crest of the hill overlooking the enemy outpost. To Raedrick, it didn’t look like much more than a country village. It consisted of fifteen or twenty buildings clustered around a central green. There was a small encampment of some sort on the east side of town, halfway around the town from their hill. Maybe that was the target.

“Doesn’t look like much, does it?" Hinderbrook said.

Raedrick looked sidelong at him and grunted. “The scouts say it’s a key outpost. Is everyone else ready?”

Hinderbrook nodded.

“Good. You know the signal.”

Little else needed to be said. The men in Raedrick’s squad were well drilled at this point. Months in combat conditions had melded them into a team that was second to none. Sometimes, it almost seemed like they were reading each others’ thoughts, the way they fought as a unit. It was a beautiful thing to see in action.

There was not long to wait. Maybe ten minutes later, the word passed down the line to make ready. Raedrick gripped his reins more tightly and forced down his growing anxiety. He needed to be cool and collected to lead his men correctly. It would be all the more important since he was not at his fighting best.

Then a whistle sounded from the center of the line and was picked up by the platoon leaders. Advance at a trot. Raedrick dug his heels into his horse’s flanks and began to post in time with her steps.

Again into battle. Would there never be an end?

* * *

Where was the enemy?

Everywhere Raedrick looked, old men, women, and children fled before the Company’s advance. But not a one of them had a weapon of any kind. Confusion reigned on the faces of his squad members as well. They had their weapons at the ready, but there was no one to use them on.

The scouts and intelligence people had fed them bad information before, but never this bad.

At the Platoon Leader’s order, Raedrick veered away from the main column and led his men to investigate a collection of outbuildings. Eager to actually accomplish something, his men fanned out as they neared the buildings. Dismounting, they quickly kicked in all the doors and conducted a search.

Their faces when they returned were more confused and almost dejected.

“Just a few kids hiding out. Other than that, there’s nothing here at all, Corporal,” Laremy reported.

“Better bring the kids along so we can muster them with the others. We don’t want them getting hurt by mistake.”

“Right.”

It took a few minutes to get the kids out of their hiding spot. In the end, Hilbredth had to sing a song to coax them out. He had a fine singing voice and a kind nature, so these sorts of things always seemed to fall on him. Soon enough, though, they were all formed up with the smaller kids riding ahead of them on their saddles and the bigger kids walking alongside.

They made for the town commons, or whatever the locals called the central green. Standard procedure was to muster civilians there, where they could be accounted for, while the unit finished its sweep. That had the dual affect of preventing surprises during the search and minimizing the chance of harming the civilians.

Suddenly a plume of smoke began to rise from the other side of the village. Then a second, and a third. Screams reached Raedrick’s ears, coming from the direction of the Commons. What was going on? Raedrick reined in and turned to his men. They all looked as nervous and confused as he did.

“Let the kids down.” Raedrick looked for the oldest of the children and pointed at him. “You there! Do you know a better hiding spot than those buildings we found you in?”

The youth nodded, his eyes wild with fright.

“You’re in charge. Take the others and go there. Do not come out again until you see me come back and tap myself on my head with the flat of my sword. Do you understand?”

The youth nodded again and began herding the other children together. Seeing that he had things in hand, Raedrick turned to his men. “Let’s go. Keep on the alert.”

Weapons drawn, his squad charged into the village at a canter. More smoke plumes were rising now and the screams and shouts were louder than ever. Biting back a curse, Raedrick turned into the Commons.

And cursed out loud.

The Commons was a scene right out of a slaughterhouse. Everywhere he looked lay hacked civilian bodies. Soldiers, mounted or on foot, chased down fleeing people and cut them down without hesitation. Some unfortunate women did not get that mercy. Several had been stripped naked and were being raped by soldiers. On the far side of the Commons, a large group of civilians was being herded into a large building, the Town Hall maybe.

Sitting on their horses in the center of the Commons, the Company officers pointed and shouted orders.

“What in hell is going on here?" Raedrick demanded in a fury. Just then, the soldiers finished herding the civilians into the building. They then chained the doors shut and backed away.

The Company Commander, a grizzled older Captain, glanced at Raedrick and scowled. “New orders from High Command, Corporal. Scorched earth: take no prisoners and leave no support for the enemy. Send a message that continued resistance means death for everyone.” Though his tone of voice was strong as always, his posture and expression said he was as troubled by this change as Raedrick was. That did not stop him from turning to the soldier leading the contingent who had just herded the civilians into the building and ordering, “Burn it.”

The soldier looked a bit sick, but saluted and turned away to carry out the order.

Was he serious? Raedrick barked, “No! Sir, we cannot do this!”

The Captain scowl became deeper. “We can, and we will. More specifically, you will. Private!” The soldier who received the order to burn the building turned, flaming torch in hand. The Captain gestured to Raedrick. “Turn the duty over, Private.” To Raedrick, he said, “Burn it, Corporal. Do it now.”

The Private handed the torch over, looking relieved to be rid of it. Unable to believe what was happening, Raedrick looked down at the torch in his hand, then back at the officers. Behind him, the members of his squad murmured amongst themselves. He knew they were as discontent as he was.

The officers noted his hesitation and turned their horses to face him. The Captain leaned forward and spoke in an even, cold tone. “Light the fire, Corporal, or I’ll have you up on charges for disobeying a lawful order and hanged this very night, decoration or no.”

Glimmer Vale is the first book of the Glimmer Vale Chronicles, an ongoing heroic fantasy series set in a world of valor and magic. It will be published here, one chapter per week, on Tuesday.

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