Stolen Valor

They were late returning to the camp. I thought for a few minutes after waking—they would show up soon, pack their tents and ride. I woke to a sunset, and I followed it back to the Stronghold.

Absolute silence as I walked. We were all trained to travel under the trees, and use the wind to hide our footsteps, but this was different. When the breeze came, the undercurrent of bristling leaves didn’t follow.

The charred flesh that followed me to the camp grounds had disappeared since. As I approached the Stronghold, I saw nothing.

None of our men patrolled. Once the wind died down, the silence became clearer. No laughter. No cheers.

Did they leave without me?

No, their tents were still pitched, and I was certain that Cadden hid some of his spoils in there. And I know he’d rather die than share a piece of it.

Not to mention Aleken, not that I care too much for his ostentatious speeches about glory, and stoicism, “Fight together, die together,” type talk—yet, he means what he says.

I know he’d sooner die than leave me behind.

I searched within the Stronghold. The way I’d been taught, working my way from the top of the walls, to the corridors, and to the rooms at floor level. The kitchen was the last place I looked. Inside of it was a large table, wooden mugs and half-eaten bread rested on top of it.

In the preparation area, the cupboards were all open. Some of the pots were flipped and I stepped on a pan when I inspected it.

Maybe the bread was poisoned, or the ale. I never indulged in putting poison on my arrows. Some of my brethren did, and I never told them how utterly disgusting it was. If you want to kill someone, don’t miss where you aim.

One of the floorboards creaked as I stepped over it. Odd. The rest of the floors were stoned, and if they weren’t, it was hardpan.

I always kept a large knife, seated in the small of my back. After unsheathing it, I pried up a floorboard.

An iron stench filled my nostrils.

I pulled the floorboard completely up, and the smell became putrid.

Bodies.

Aleken’s face was the first that I recognized. His face was stuck in a snarl. When I looked further, the base of his neck was disconnected. His head rested on a different body.

I stumbled back, tripping over the pan from before. I fell on my ass.

Outside, horses rumbled into the Stronghold.

“Aleken!” one of the horsemen bellowed. “Aleken, we received your smoke signal!”

I recognized the voice—Gabrindel, another captain. He has led another force, twice as large as ours. The other half of our final mission. He was even more ostentatious than Aleken, and he knew it. If Gabrindel saw Aleken’s head… his men… Bara knows what he’ll do.

Aleken’s voice spoke into my mind, ‘Bad news gets worse over time.’

Great, Aleken. My captain, now my head is filled with your useless nonsense. Why’d you die like this? Now I’m stuck having to clean up your useless corpse damnit.

“Captain Gabrindel!” I shouted.

I could hide. But his men would find me. I could run, but an arrow moves faster than my feet. This was the best choice.

I shouted again, this time fabricating a crack in my voice. “Captain Gabrindel! They’re all dead!” I waited until their footsteps scrambled my way. “They’re all dead!” I cried out.

Gabrindel was the first in the room. I made myself small, pathetic even. He glanced at me and then he saw the floorboard with bodies shoved underneath it.

He grimaced. Then he swallowed.

“You’re Craine,” he said.

I knew he’d remember me. He wanted me as a squad leader in his ragged bunch of archers. I’d sooner be poisoned than work with his men, not that it mattered though.

“Yes, Captain,” I said. I picked myself up, then acted feeble and fell back onto the floor. “I went back to pack up the camp, so that we’d spend less time by riding by night. No one came. So I—” I gulped. “I came over here, and—and—and—”

He put his hand up. “I understand.” Then he flicked his head to order his men over, “Jaren, Hugrief!”

They ran to his call, and snapped to. I’ve seen these two. Jaren kept his beard all ragged and his top hair was cut as short as possible. The uniform he wore barely fit him, as if he had to squeeze into one stitched for a doll. If I put it on, it’d envelop me like a blanket.

Hugrief was a scrawny man in opposition. But I’ve seen him in combat. I’d hate to admit it, but he was swift with his twiggish figure, and his eyes were always trained on his foe.

Gabrindel pointed at me. “Bind this man until I can figure out what happened here.”

I growled. “Wha—I told you *exactly *what happened.”

“Then you should be fine going in finer detail in my tent.”

When he spoke, I slipped my knife underneath my breeches. I glared at him as I showed my hands for them to wrap.

“Wait,” he said, “Hugrief, check him.”

The scrawny soldier drew his sword and trained it on me. “Stomach on the floor, soldier.”

“There’s a knife within my breeches,” I confessed. “I’ll take it out slow.”

“Don’t,” Hugrief replied. “Put your stomach on the floor.”

I stared him down. His face didn’t shift, and his hand didn’t waver, but gaze did.

“Do as I say,” he commanded.

An anger rushed through me, like an avalanche crashing down. It was Gabrindel’s eyes—it lit for a second, along with a poorly hidden smirk. It was Hugrief’s poor upkeep on that same facade. My voice rattled as I stewed on it. “Look at me.”

Hugrief narrowed his eyes and said, “What? Are you ill?”

“You should never blink before an execution. It’s pathetic. When you cut me down, stare at your work until it’s done.”

“What’re you on abou—”

“Look at me!”

Something clunked from the cupboards. An arrow flew out of it and stuck into Jaren’s brow. A knife flung out too, impaling Gabrindel in the neck.

Hugrief looked back, and I lunged towards him with my knife. He dodged it, and swung his sword. It caught my side slightly.

Cadden jumped out of the cupboards and strangled him, wrapping his legs around his waist.

I lunged again, and my knife dug into his chest. I twisted it, and watched as his soul disappear from the whites in his eyes.

Gabrindel gargled as he tried undoing the knife in his throat. A coin purse rattled at his waist. I stood upon him, glaring at him, waiting until he died.

In truth, I accepted my fate. I performed exactly as I was told. My end—caused by betrayal—wasn’t an inspired notion. It was his smirk. The thought he held on to, as if Gabrinndel inscribed it on his lips with the most unprofessional, indulgent, and incompetent flash of triumph. I could not let him die with that thought.

He thought he fooled me.

I unhooked his coin purse. “This is what you cost?” Untying the purse, I dumped its contents, and the coins thumped on his face. I took one of them. I pulled open his mouth and pressed it in. “You’re so pathetic. Have them. Have them all. Take them when you see Nostu.” I managed three when Cadden pulled my shoulder, but I shrugged him off me. “Stop gurgling Gabrendel. Disgusting. What happened to your smile?”

Cadden reached for my shoulder again. “He’s dead!”

“He’s not,” I said through gritted teeth. Then I wrapped my hands around his mouth, feeling the coins that poked out from his cheeks. He writhed, until he didn’t.

“Satisfied?” Cadden asked. He checked around the corner, in case anyone came over. When he felt comfortable, he looked at me. “I’ve never seen you like that. Ever.”

I took a breath and composed myself. “He murdered our—”

“Friends? Were you going to say brethren? I’m no fool, Craine. Where were you?”

“I went back to the camp, like I said. Doubt me, and you’ll share Gabrindel’s fate.”

His jaw clenched and he flashed some of his teeth. “I already believed you, but attempt a threat at me again,” he said.

“Understood.” I needed to simmer down. It’s easy to forget that the people I worked with weren’t as simple-minded as the rest of Kington’s troops, nor as easy to subdue. I’d hate to admit it, but he knew the exact lie I would spew to ease a militant mind. And I wish he didn’t see my anger, it’s unfitting for a professional.

After finishing his glare, he relaxed and kneeled beside Gabrindel’s corpse, picking up the coins half-mindedly. “Did you see any over there?”

“See what?”

“Bounters, in disguise I think.” He placed the coins in his pocket. “We got ambushed. Soldiers wearing our colors, I saw a few as they left.”

“So you hid?” I tugged out the crossbow bolt from Jaren’s brow, and inspected the end of it. It wasn’t the same—no, this won’t do. I tossed it aside.

“I—uh, I didn’t hide. I mean, I just wasn’t seen is all,” Cadden said, digging into Hugrief’s pockets. When he pulled his hand out, he had a handful of coins and a crumpled piece of paper.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “It’s nothing. Just marks, not like he’s going to use it—oh, you mean this.” He unwrapped the paper.

“What does it say?”

“Uh—”

He took too long to answer, so I snatched it from him. It was a Bounter note. Simply it said:

Ten Thousand Taelmarks. Aleken and his men

*Ten thousand? *Idiots. The Bounters were on their deathbed—crippled over countless years of precision attacks. If they thought for twenty seconds, they would realize that they could kill the Bounters and take whatever was left. In my irritation, I shredded the note.

Cadden picked up as much as he could from the pieces. “What did it say?”

“Didn’t you read it?”

“You took it too quickly.”

I took a bow that rested in the corner of the kitchen, and a spare quiver filled with arrows. “It was a Bounters’ note. Ten thousand marks for all of us.”

His mouth hung. “Ten thousand?”

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“I’m not… I’m not!” He swung up his hands to show me his palms. “I’ve got enough in my tent. Oh, my tent.”

“I need things from there too.”

“But where do we go?”

*You don’t know the way to the camp?” I asked, baffled.

“No, after. I have… to move things around, but, I’m not a foolish enough to stick around. Where should we go?”

I strapped the quiver to my waist. “I’ve got an idea.”

He leaned forward for to hear the rest. But after a stagnant silence he said, “Well…?”

“What? I don’t care where you go. Go hide in a hole in a hill in Tavean or Bramphia for all I care.”

“Please,” he begged. “Please, Craine.”

I sighed. “I’m heading to Niobeth.”

“You’re insane! Nevermind. You’re right, I’ll head west, away from that infested city. There’s likely dozens of inconspicuous Bounters there.”

“I don’t care. I’m going to Niobeth.”

He bit his lip. Then grabbed his bow, and strummed it while he thought. “Fine, I’ll go with you. T’s best to have another set of eyes.”

He’d slow me down. I’m certain he’d slow me down. But he was right. In spite of his looting tendencies, he was a competent archer. If he weren’t, Aleken would’ve left him behind in a random passing town with whatever change Aleken could scrounge, and a parting message, “I’d rather you live in shame, than be the reason we fall tomorrow.”

I’ll miss Captain Aleken. I hope Nostu hears him well. If I had time, I’d light him ablaze and wear his charred scent proudly.

Cadden nodded when he latched on his quiver.

Both he and I moved towards the exit, and both of us had our bows readied; an arrow placed behind the string, but not drawn, yet it’d be quick work to do so and let it loose. We’d be silent if Cadden didn’t mutter and twitch behind me.

Three horses were tied to a post in front of the Stronghold. As we walked into the clearing, we immediately scanned the tops and to our level—in case of unknown reinforcements.

None. Gabrindel was a foolish egotistical man. Either that, or only the three of them knew about the reward.

Once we felt comfortable, we headed towards the horses.

“Don’t do it,” I said.

Cadden had his bow slung on his shoulder. “We’d make it to camp in an hour or less.”

“They’ll kick you off and kill you in a second.”

He sucked in his teeth but heeded my advice. “What a waste,” he grumbled as we passed by them.

Still, we made quick work with the setting light. We passed through the trees as if we were raised in this forest, keeping a steady, careful pace.

In the last few minutes of the sunset’s orange haze, I could see my tent. Within it, I knew my arrowheads waited. They were worth nothing, if I tried to sell them to be reforged. Yet, it’d take more than ten thousand Taelmarks for me to sell them.

I rushed towards them. Cadden pulled me back by the collar.

“Look,” he said.

A shadow slipped around the tents—stopping and entering each one. He had his bow drawn before I could make out any more features, and released it once the shadow left Aleken’s tent.