Sunday, August 19, 2012

A story of my own

"Is he ready?" I asked the doctor exiting the cell. 

"Uh, yes general. He's perfectly healthy, just a few cuts and bruises." Grigory muttered. Grigory Korovin was a good man, a good friend, and a good physician, but sometimes I think he lacked the stomach for government work. I waved him off, and he gratefully scampered out. I drew myself to my full height and straightened my saber before I entered the room. When I did, I saw a man who looked like he lost an argument with the business end of a mace. His face was bloody and smashed to hell. He glared at me sullenly as I walked in and closed the door behind me. "Captain." I said. "I believe you should salute your superior officer."

He spat a glob of blood on the table. I could immediately tell that this man was going to be a handful. I sat down across from him. Ignoring his attitude, I said "Captain Kvavsov, your service record is commendable. You were the best shot in your regiment, the 5th Turiyov Infantry, if I'm not mistaken. You were awarded the Order of the Golden Sun and thus a non-hereditary knighthood for your valor at the Battle of the Two Rivers; I note it is rather conspicuously missing from your uniform-" 

"As bugles blow and trumpets roar
We cry: 'Man is man, and who is more?'" He muttered.

"Ah. A traitor, then." These Republican types were always quoting scripture. As if it meant anything.

He immediately straightened up in his seat, struggling against his constraints. "I am not a traitor!" He shouted "The Tzar is the traitor! He sold-" I brought my fist across his face hard enough to almost tip the chair over.

"You will not disgrace our Autocrat in my presence. Is that quite clear?" 

His head rolled to the side as he gasped in pain.

"I won't ask again, captain."

He brought his gaze up to meet mine, slowly. "Yes. Sir." He said through gritted teeth.

"Good. Continue in a manner that respects Tzar Viktor. Tell me what happened"

He dropped his gaze to the ground. "I killed them. That's what you want to hear, isn't it?" 

I shrugged. "Yes and no. Tell me how. Tell me exactly what happened in Goyiv."

"I ordered my men to round up the prisoners, all of them. Colonel Melnikov was quite pleased to have them taken off of his hands. I forced a local farmer to loan us his shovel, and then I made each of those blank-eyed bastards dig a grave, and kneel in front of it." He lifted his head when he said that, as though he were proud of what he did. "Then I ordered my men to fire by rank, all hundred and thirteen of them." He smiled. "There is no feeling more satisfying than doing the work of Man, which is the work of God."

"What you did was neither the work of man nor God." I snarled. "You killed prisoners that were going to be exchanged for our own men! You disobeyed your Tzar's commands, and you have threatened the peace that he worked so hard to create!"

The traitor tipped the chair forward and spat "He has created a Godless peace with sub-human scum! He has bowed down to elves and craven creatures of the night!" I brought my fist across his face again, to no avail. "No god but God! No man but Man!" He cried "No god but God! No man but Man!" I got out of my chair, disgusted. I walked over beside him and calmly tipped his chair over. It shut him up for a moment, long enough for me to leave the room. I left to find Carl Weber, a pale, blond-haired eastern piece of shit, calmly sliding two knives across each other. 

"I take it you need my assistance?" He said, with his characteristic near-unintelligible accent and that slimy little smile of his.

"Get him to recant. We need him to recant in front of a crowd. If he reverses his opinion when we get him to the gallows-" 

"Yes, yes, I am familiar with the purpose of a recantation. I'll have him begging for death by tomorrow, I promise you." I shook my head and walked off. "I know you disapprove of my methods, General," He said "But I assure you, I only do what is best for the Empire." Men like Weber are sick, cruel for the sake of cruelty. For all of his sweet talk of necessity and patriotism, he's just another parasite, feeding off the pain of others with government permission. Before he was Head Interrogator for the Tzar, he was the Head Jailer for some eastern knight, and before that, a mercenary. He has no allegiance to anyone or anything, save himself. 

And yet... He is right that he's necessary. A necessary evil, perhaps, but necessary nonetheless...

---

"Hail Tzar Viktor, first of his name, Emperor and Autocrat of all the Selonans!" I shouted, raising my right hand in the air and taking a knee in front of the Tzar. "Please, Pyotr, get up, I don't have time for this nonsense. Are the rumors true?" I tensed as I stood. Revealing bad news to the Tzar was never a good idea. He was a good man, and a fair ruler, but his temper was... Mecurial, at best. 

"Tzar, the rumors... Are, indeed true. One of our officers rounded up unarmed elvish prisoners, and massacred them. He didn't even deny it when I confronted him." 

The Tzar turned around and paced back to his writing desk. He picked up a piece of paper, hands shaking. "Do you see this, Pyotr?" He asked, voice quivering. I gritted my teeth. I could tell by his tone that this was going to be nasty. 

"Yes, Tzar, I see it." I said quietly.

"Do you know what it is, Pyotr?" His voice rose to a crescendo, and he looked as though he were about to tear the paper apart.

"It-it's a peace treaty, Tzar." I said.

He brought his other hand to the paper and softly ripped it in half, then into quarters, and threw the scraps in my face. "Not anymore, Pyotr! Not anymore! Because of your men!" I deeply resented the association, but I held my tongue. The Tzar didn't like being contradicted. "I've fought this war for ten years, Pyotr! Ten years! And now that little shit of a soldier is going to unravel it all! We could have had peace! At a cost, but any cost is better than slavery and death at the hands of elves! Do you realize what the Ostenians will do once they hear of this?"

"They might send a diplomat to request reparations-"

"They will come in here, and they will burn the city to the ground, and then they'll salt the earth behind it! That's what they'll do, and you know it!" The Tzar shouted in my face. Striding over to his window, he gripped the railing so hard his knuckles turned white. He took a few breaths of seaside air and ran a hand through his hair before turning back to me. A thunderstorm crackled distantly as he quietly continued. "This is the end, Pyotr. Of everything. We've fought inside and out of this Empire for years, haven't we? It's been sixteen years since I took the throne, but it seems a lifetime. And we are nearing the end. We've given up so much for this peace... And now..."

"Viktor," I said quietly "It's not all over. If we can get the captain to publicly recant, maybe his confession and execution will smooth things over enough-"

The Tzar waved me off. "Do as you will, Pyotr. I... I have some last letters to write. Tell Nicholas to bring me the carrier birds. All of them. I think it's time for them to take one last trip." I frowned and looked at the Tzar. He was barely a child when he took the throne, only fifteen. Now he looked almost fifty. His hair was already starting to grey, and his figure had become frail and gaunt after years of the burden of rule. He hadn't inherited this empire in good condition, but he had hoped to leave it in peace and prosperity. Now it seemed that he wasn't going to leave it at all. I silently left his room, leaving him to write his final letters in peace.

----

I made my way to a quaint little tavern that was constantly changing it's name (I think it was the Black Horse at that time, or maybe the Blind Pig) that was a favorite haunt of two of my oldest and closest friends. I smiled faintly as I smelled the familiar smoky aroma of the tavern, tinged with boar, and dully lit by a number of lanterns hanging from the ceiling. I nodded cordially to the tavern's owner, a broad, mustached man by the name of Ivan Shryenko, who returned the nod respectfully. I found Grigory and Vasily sitting in their usual corner, drinking and talking. Vasily was smoking a pipe, as usual, when I came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

He snarled "What the hell do you want?" as he turned his head around, but his angry sneer quickly turned into a smile when he saw me. "Petya!" He pulled me into a big bear hug, a huge grin on his rough, scarred face. He looked like a vicious bastard, but Vasily was all soft on the inside. I'd had him as senior sergeant back when I was just a green lieutenant, and I haven't been able to tear myself away from him since. "Here I thought you'd be too busy with, y'know, 'affairs of state' to come in to drink with us."

I grimaced. "Well, if affairs keep going as badly as they have been, there may not be a state to worry about." 

A sympathetic look crossed Vasily's face. "That bad, huh?" 

I shrugged. "Yeah. But I'd rather try and forget about it for a few hours." I pulled a chair away from a nearby table and sat down. 

Grigory rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Did you get what you needed out of the captain?" He asked

I shook my head and said "Weber is." Grigory shifted uncomfortably in his chair. I can't blame him, we both knew what kind of a man Weber was. "So Grisha, how is Anna coming along?"

Grigory smiled. "She should be due in about a month." He said, and laughed. "To think I'll be a grandfather soon... Makes me feel old." Out of the three of us, he was the youngest, but only barely, at forty-seven. I was forty-nine, and Vasily was fifty-five.

Vasily snorted. "You think you feel old now? Just wait until your youngest is starting a family. That's when you feel ancient."

Sofiya, Ivan's daughter, came up to me and placed a pint of Eastern Lager in front of me. "Your usual, General." I smiled and thanked her.

"I remember when Mariya had her first kid, I felt like the whole world was coming down on me. Now Vira is already on her second and I feel just fine. Calm as can be." Vasily took a puff from his pipe and calmly blew smoke up towards the ceiling.

"Don't you know that stuff is terrible for your health?" Grigory coughed and waved some smoke away from his face.

Vasily gave him a patronizing smile and said "So you keep telling me. I've never been convinced."

"The fact that it makes people cough should be a dead giveaway."

Vasily rolled his eyes. "People cough when they drink water too - when they drink it the wrong way. Do you see me coughing?" Vasily turned to me. "You've been quiet Petya, what's going on in that head of yours?" 

Fear. "I'm anxious. In a bad way." 

Vasily raised his eyebrows. "Should I be anxious?"

I stood up, my drink untouched. "Yeah, probably. I'll see you two later, I need to go check on the men."

-----

It seemed the more I tried to push my fears away, the stronger they took hold of me. It was only natural, of course. If I wasn't worried, if I didn't try to do something against the inevitable Ostenian reaction, would I really have been worthy of my rank? That question ran through my head as I roughly kicked the leg of Colonel Kastarov's bed. He startled, cursing and fumbling out of his blankets. When he saw me, he gritted his teeth together and rubbed his eyes, muttering "It's three in the bloody morning, so this had better be a goddamn emergency!" He then added, as an afterthought "Sir."

"Colonel." I acknowledged him with a slight nod. "Rest assured, this is an emergency."

Kastarov sighed angrily and slipped his pants and boots on. "Goddammit. How far away are they?"

"I'm not sure yet. There's been no official break, but I'm sure you've heard the rumors."

Kastarov affixed his cap neatly on his head and slipped on his jacket. "Fresh out of one war and into the next." I was always amazed at the Colonel's ability to look like a proper soldier on a moment's notice. Always clean shaven, save for a well-trimmed red mustache under his prominent eagle-like nose. As he finished slipping on his uniform, I would never have thought that not a minute beforehand he was fast asleep and in bed. 

"Get the militia ready and below the west wall," I said "I've already informed colonels Golovin and Potemkin to marshal the regular army."

"Tell the truth Pyotr. How bad is it going to be?"

I balled my hands into fists. "I don't know colonel. But if we're caught off guard-"

"They'll sacrifice the lot of us." Kastarov said bitterly. "To Jawin, or whatever heathen god it is they worship." It's Chwin, actually, but I didn't feel like interrupting the colonel. He scowled "I'll see to it that the men are impressed as to the importance of this. They still won't be happy about being dragged back to the ranks after a month of peace."

"I don't think we have much of a choice. Godspeed colonel."

"Godspeed general."

------

Warm rain pelted my face and ran down my back as I paced across the walls towards the western gatehouse. The men were aligned in rows three ranks deep, wheellocks ready and loaded. They stood at attention as I moved past, recognizing my distinctive peaked cap even in the heavy rain. Colonel Nikita Golovin saw me and quickly joined my side at a brisk pace. "General," He said "We have to talk."

"By all means, go ahead." I said

"Sir," He hissed in my ear "We can't possibly expect to win this battle. Between the rain and the fact that we don't know anything about their force; we don't know how many there are, we don't know who's leading them, we don't even know when they're coming, means that staying here and fighting is suicide!" 

I turned quickly and snapped "What else-" I looked away for a moment to calm myself down. I couldn't show any fear, any uncertainty in front of the men. An officer must serve as an example for the rank and file. Lightning flashed as I took a deep breath and continued. "What else can we do, colonel? Do you think that the Ostenians will just let us murder their soldiers without retribution? Have you forgotten what started the war in the first place?" I heard a few voices in the distance, drowned out by the rain and the thunder.

Colonel Golovin's voice took on a conciliatory tone. "Sir, I'm not saying that. What I am saying is that we're not even at a fourth of our strength, even counting the militia as regulars, and the riders to Volovin and Turiyov won't reach the cities for days. Even if this was a clear, dry day, we still wouldn't be able to take a fifth of the Ostenian army. Sir, we could..." He bit his lower lip hesitantly. "We could abandon the city. Move the men southeast, to Turiyov, form our army there."

I turned away in disgust, and in turn Golovin's voice rose to an almost pleading timbre. "General, please, it's our only chance. If we're caught here, there'll be no saving Selonan."

"Nikita." I said quietly. "Do you remember what happened at Stavvich?"

"Y... Yes sir."

"Apparently you don't, so let me remind you. The city surrendered, Nikita. Surrendered. And..." I closed my eyes, tried not to pciture the aftermath, the bodies laying in the streets, the profane symbols painted in blood... "They sacrificed one-hundred thousand human beings. Men, women, children, it didn't matter, all murdered for their heathen gods. What the hell do you think is going to happen if we give up this city without a fight? We hold here until relieved by reinforcements from Volovin and Turiyov." 

"Sir, I-"

"We hold here until relieved, colonel." I snarled "Is that understood?"

He nodded. "Yes sir." He whispered. He looked as though he had at least enough common fucking decency to be ashamed of his proposal. He saw what happened at Stavvich too. He had family in Stavvich. Of all people, he should have been the last to propose abandoning another city to those inhuman monsters.

"Good."

In the distance, I heard the voice of one of my scouts, Ivan, I think, I don't remember his last name, over the storm shout "Let me in, dammit! I told you I have a message for the general!" I saw a lantern swinging back and forth in front of a pair of mounted silhouettes, one in a cloak.

I found it odd, as I had ordered the scouts out alone rather than in pairs. Still, I raised my voice over the cacophony of the storm. "Let them through!" The gate guards must have recognized my voice, because a few seconds later I heard the gate groan and start to open. I turned to Colonel Golovin. "Find Colonel Potemkin and Kastarov, and meet me with them in the gatehouse. The guards will know which room."

-------

As I entered a small side room of the gatehouse and motioned for the guards to clear out, I took off my hat and wrung it of water. "What do you have for me, soldier?"

Ivan saluted. "General sir, I uh, well, he's a messenger, sir." The cloaked man- no, the cloaked thing drew it's hood back to reveal telltale pointed ears and clear, slightly luminescent eyes.

I straightened up and balled my hands into fists when I saw it. "There had better be a good reason for this, Ivan. Or I'll have you against a wall before his... Comrades... See the city."

"Please general sir, you have to listen to what he has to say."

The elf looked smug, although I think they all do. I can't tell them apart, they're all the same, they all look the same, they all think the same, they all act the same. They treat us like dogs who have yet to learn their place. Well, I suppose if that's the case, we've spent the past ten years teaching them what happens when you kick a dog one too many times. "General Pyotr." It smiled. "I believe you are just the man I'm looking for."

"General Vorontovich to you." I said coldly. 

"General Vwrontwovrich." It said, still smiling as his accent butchered my name. "My sincere apologies. There seems to be a misunderstanding between our two countries about the intentions of my masters." Masters. Like a slave. Like a dog. Not like a man.

Colonel Potemkin entered the room, and drew his pistol as soon as he saw the elf standing there. Luckily, I grabbed his hand before he could level it at the messenger. "He's a messenger, Alexander."

"Like hell. He's a spy, I don't care what he-"

"Alexander. We're hearing him out." Alexander put his pistol back into it's holster, reluctantly. His thick gray mustache bristled as he sneered at the elf and moved out of the doorway to let Colonel Golovin and Colonel Kastarov in, who both eyed the elf warily.

"Please." I said "Continue."

"Our 'force', as your soldier put it, is only the retinue of a diplomat, who has come here in light of... Certain events that have transpired recently." The Ostenian elf's smug little smile didn't leave it's face.

Ivan nodded eagerly. "There wasn't more than twenty elves there, I promise you general sir. Er, sirs."

"It's lying." Snarled Colonel Potemkin. "You remember how many times we attacked a supply caravan of 'just' fifty or sixty elves, and then how a whole damn division would come out of the woods? Elves are cowards, and liars. It's trying to make us let our guard down, so when they do attack they can butcher us!" The elf just continued smiling, which only encouraged Alexander. "You see? It doesn't even try to deny it! We should kill it now while we still have the chance!"

"Alexander. Please, calm down." I said. "Nikita?" 

Colonel Golovin shrugged. "I don't know. I think he's telling the truth... But Alexander is right, elves are notorious liars. And we've had our share of ambushes during the war."

I looked over at Colonel Kastarov, who was studying the elf intently, hand rubbing his chin. "Mikhail. What do you think?"

Colonel Kastarov narrowed his eyes at the elf. "I think he's telling the truth. Partially. I think he's also hiding something."

I drew my saber from it's sheathe and looked it over carefully, judging the elf's reaction. Nothing. "You think yourself safe here?" 

The elf nodded. "I think you... Humans... Have enough sense to not kill diplomatic envoys."

"Really? Well, by your own admission, you aren't the diplomat. You're just part of 'his' retinue. How angry do you think your master would be if one of 'his' servents went missing? Travellers go missing all the time along these roads. Ivan, I believe you have some leave days left? And family in Turiyov?"

The smile ran away from the elf's face. "He would be very upset, General Vwrontwovrich, and not quite so foolish as to buy such a contrived tale." Ah, that's all I wanted. I just couldn't stand that smug little shit's smile.

I put my saber back in it's sheathe. "Colonels. Tell the men, regulars and militia, to stand down, and march them to the Citadel of Stars. We can't risk Republicans... Or nervous recruits... Taking a shot and risking spoiling this opportunity for a renewed peace."

Colonel Potemkin frowned. "And if he's lying?"

"If he's lying, the guns in the Citadel of Stars are the biggest in the empire, and the artillerymen there have the calibrations to hit anywhere on the western side of the city. You'll take command and storm the walls with shot and bayonet." He seemed satisfied with that, and saluted before leaving the room, as did Mikhail and Nikita.

--------

"I think we should get down to business." The elven diplomat, by the name of 'Nuallan', said to Tzar Viktor.

"Of course." Tzar Viktor said, and smiled thinly. "I believe you are here to discuss the nature of some rumours that have been circulating lately-"

"They are no rumors. Truth travels on the wings of eagles, and there are ears in every forest." I hate how they always need to be so... Enigmatic. "We know what happened. But my masters are willing to forgive this little incident, for a price."

Tzar Viktor hesitated. "And what price do you ask?"

"The hundred men that committed the deed."

"Just a minute," I objected "The only man responsible for this was the officer in command. The men were just following orders."

Nuallan cocked it's head. "Is that what you human soldiers tell yourselves? I seem to remember this business of executing prisoners being quite common-"

"During the war! Not in peace, and not to-" Tzar Viktor raised his hand to silence me.

"Please, Pyotr. You want the hundred men as prisoners, correct? And the officer for execution?" Tzar Viktor asked, a hint of hope entering his voice.

"As sacrifices." Nuallan said.

"Get out." Viktor whispered. I knew that tone, and braced myself for his reaction.

"Pardon? I'm-"

"Get the hell out of my sight, and be happy that I don't take your head! You dare enter MY city, come into MY land, and demand that I give MY people to be sacrificed for your gods? You should be happy I don't throw you to the dogs, you subhuman bastard!" Viktor roared "You think that you can just come in here and demand the world? I'd sooner hang myself than betray my own wards!"

The Tzar sat down slowly. Nuallan just looked stunned, like a rabbit or a deer who's just seen a hunter. "My men will tell you when you can leave, Nuallan. They will escort you to your quarters until I've decided just what to do with you." The elf looked as pale as a ghost as he stumbled out the door.

The Tzar pinched the bridge of his nose and choked down a sob when Nuallan was gone. "Pyotr... Pyotr... God, what can I do?" The Tzar took a deep breath. "We... I can't, couldn't accept their terms could I? How-how could I call myself a man of God if I did?" He ground his teeth together. "How can I call myself king if I don't? Oh God, Pyotr... If they come out in full force, we can't stop them. They'll torch the cities, sacrifice thousands to their heathen gods." He slammed his fist on the table. His entire body with shaking with rage, or maybe fear. He put his hand on his forehead and went quiet. I stood up and walked over to the door. He sat there, in silence and despair, with only the burden of the crown to keep him.

God help him; I can't.

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