Chapter 13 - Part 6

It was near dark by the time they arrived at the eastern edge of town. Orphan could smell the salt taste of the sea, and he saw how the elevation of the ground had smoothed out, and then dropped down slightly. There was some light from two moons and some stars, but not enough for the warforged, who had every sixth or seventh unit get a torch from a bag one of the officers carried and light it. Orphan thought it was poor tactics to have all of the warforged armed with two-handed weapons if they were going to need one hand free to carry a light, but a warforged’s heavy fist was dangerous in its own right, so they were not exactly weaponless.

Not as dangerous as my hands, he thought. But he did not want to fight them. He would probably be forced to fight by this Aundairian lord, and he knew that he would probably be able to kill several of the warforged soldiers before he was cut down, but that saddened him. It was wasteful. Foolish. Because this power-hungry man from Aundair said so, the warforged around him – born into slavery through no fault of their own – would die. This Aundairian does not deserve to make law, Orphan thought with some anger.

They passed by half-built seige equipment, and Orphan wondered why they had started building it if they were simply going to make an infantry charge. What made the Aundairian change tactics so suddenly? His instinct gnawed at him, telling him that there was something terribly wrong.

Captain 7824FB was sending men out in groups of eight, two torchbearers, one officer, and five soldiers. One group was sent down to the cliffside to check on the soldiers there. Another was sent to sweep the northern section of the area, and another the southern section, while the Captain and Iron Orphan marched with the main body of troops past various homes and shacks.

“What are you worried about?” Orphan asked. Captain 7824FB did not answer him. “Why do you think this area is not secure?”

“Maybe because your fleshy friends came and went,” Captain 7824FB snapped.

Orphan felt that 7824FB wasn’t telling him the truth, but the Captain was reminding Orphan of his prisoner status. The monk kept quiet.

After perhaps five more minutes they came to a house. Orphan could see a small garden in the back. He could also smell large amounts of dried blood, and hear the buzzing of flies.

All of the warforged tensed. “Inside,” Captain 7824FB ordered. “Bring the prisoner.”

Somehow, about a dozen of them squeezed into the house. Somehow they avoided setting the place on fire with their open torches. Somehow no one felt like commenting as they looked at the masses of dead bodies. One was obviously Lord Ibraim, but his head was on the other side of the room from his body. Captain 7824FB picked it up, and gently closed the open eyes. He set the head on the couch, disturbing a mass of flies.

“Everyone out,” he said finally.

They trooped out to an open yard in front of the house. There had been a small picket fence there this morning, but warforged feet had trampled it to splinters. Captain 7824FB made some gestures, and the warforged formed a large circle around him and Iron Orphan.

This is it, Orphan thought to himself. Oddly, he was not afraid, just sad. He would have to kill as many of them as he could. That way they would be weaker the next time they attacked the village proper.

“His sword was not with him,” 7824FB said. He ostensibly said it to Iron Orphan, but his words were loud enough to be heard by the seventy-plus units there. “His special shadow sword. It was an inheritance in his family. Did anyone see it?”

A few scattered negatives followed.

“This was not done by my friends,” Orphan said.

“I know,” 7824FB told him. “The bodies, they are all several hours old. They died about the time we left. And we left suddenly, abandoning our siege engines, with suddenly changed orders to kill everyone and everything.”

The warforged shifted their feet, not sure where this was going.

“A changeling?” Orphan asked 7824FB, also pitching his voice more loudly.

“Aye,” 7824FB said. “I did not see the one called Kleris there. I suspect that…” His voice trailed off.

“I suspect that you have forgotten your orders,” one unit said, stepping forward. “You are sharing confidential information with the enemy, Captain,” it snarled, brandishing a sword.

“Step back into line, soldier,” Captain 7824FB ordered.

“A loyal soldier,” it said, advancing carefully. “Not like you.” It jabbed at Orphan as it advanced.

This is it, Orphan thought. He stepped forward, kicking the soldier in the head. The soldier’s faceplate actually crumpled a bit, and sparks flew from its neck joints. It staggered backwards, but Orphan’s hands had already punched out a knee and disabled one of the wrists. It fell, limp, into the dirt. It did not rise.

“I did not kill it,” Orphan said. That was true. He had hurt it very, very badly, and it would not be conscious again without repairs, but he had not killed it.

The other warforged looked at each other, but did not move. Captain 7824FB looked down at the battered unit by Orphan’s feet. The Captain then swiftly drew his own greatsword and cut the rebellious unit in two.

“No,” 7824FB said. “You didn’t. I did. It is the officer’s job to execute the mutinous.”

Orphan said nothing. There was nothing to say. War and death were everything to these units. There was no place to begin a sentence from.

Lights appeared, and warforged were running towards them, swords sheathed, torches aloft. They were calling desperately for their commander. 7824FB waved for the circle to open, and they came in, babbling.

“Quiet!” 7824FB thundered. They were silent instantly. “You,” he said, pointing to one. “What is going on?”

“The ships have been sank,” the soldier told him. “Sabotage. There are tracks in the mud, heading north, deep bootprints.”

“Kleris,” 7824FB said, nodding. “Or whatever his real name is.”

Orphan forced himself to relax. “So now you understand that your mission was in vain? You will stand down?”

Captain 7824FB stared at Iron Orphan for a moment. “Stand down?” he asked with a dangerous edge to his voice. “Stand down?” He lunged and slashed at Iron Orphan, who only barely dodged. “We have no way out of here now!” Another furious slash. Orphan jumped up and somersaulted over 7824FB. The crowd began murmuring and pumping three-fingered fists into the air. “We have no way of escaping!” He swung a terrible roundhouse blow at Orphan, who ducked under it, and then slipped in and grabbed 7824FB’s arms and neck in a wrestling hold. “They will come to kill us all! We have no choice but to fight now!” Captain 7824FB was squirming, but Orphan had him in a tight grip. “Your nature caster destroyed hundreds of us without mercy!” 7824FB finally slipped free, but lost his sword in the process. “What chance do we have now?” he snarled, swinging a fist at Orphan. The monk moved aside and caught 7824FB’s arm, throwing him to the side. Captain 7824FB stumbled to his feet, trying to brush himself off. There was a nasty scratch that had disfigured the Aundairian symbol on his chest.

“We do not want to fight you!” Orphan yelled. “You were advancing on the town, to kill, to maim, to destroy! And you are angry that we defended ourselves?”

“We?” 7824FB asked. “What is this ‘we’ that you’re babbling of? Humans who control us? You have one race, 4311XD, and that is us. And you collaborated with them to kill us. Call it helping Reachers kill their rightful Aundair masters, call it helping fleshy ones kill our race, that’s you!”

“I have tried to stop death!” Orphan said. “I do not seek it! I did not kill that soldier on the ground, you did!”

“We are death,” someone in the crowd said. “What more are we? What else can we do?”

“I was confused when I met you in the woods,” Captain 7824FB said. “I thought the smart thing would be to get back here. I trusted you because even when we were newly minted you seemed to – you seemed to know what was right to do.”

“You wanted guidance, and I gave it,” Orphan said. “If the people of the town see good faith on your part, they’ll let you fix your ships and get out of here. Even a half-decent sailor can follow the coast back to Aundair.”

“Good faith?” someone asked.

“It will take us two or three days to fix the ships,” another one yelled. “The Reachers will never give us that time!”

There were more angry yells, and murmurs about attacking now, not waiting. Orphan felt the crowd slipping. He knew that 7824FB knew it as well. They would soon decide to attack, no matter what their officers told them.

“You can prove to them that you no longer have hostile intentions!” Orphan yelled. “You can release the hostages that you have here!”

Suddenly the crowd went quiet, looking at one another.

“Hostages?” Captain 7824FB asked. “We have no hostages.”

“But – but surely you didn’t – you…” Orphan trailed off, watching them.

“No hostages,” Captain 7824FB said wearily. “We killed everyone.”

Orphan was stunned for a moment. Finally he spoke. “Even the children? The smallest ones?”

“Even,” came the self-damning reply.

The warforged shuffled their feet. They sensed it would be time to attack.

“You know, I actually regretted having to fight you,” Iron Orphan said. “I am a member of the Balanced Palm. I know how to strike without killing. But I was afraid that I would be forced to kill some of you. Afraid because I was once almost one of you. A thing. A weak, spineless, mindless, soulless thing.” He shifted his feet, readying himself. “But if you truly can slay even the smallest and weakest without hesitation, just because someone told you to, then you are not merely things. You are evil. Come then, Captain 7824FB. Send your men at me. Attack me yourself if you have the courage. I will eventually be slain, but will take a dozen of you, if not more, with me.”

“Like you would have done different in my place,” Captain 7824FB said, raising a hand to signal his men. “And would it then be me preaching to you? Bah, we shall end this.”

A sudden crash was heard. Some sixty feet behind and to the left of Captain 7824FB was another cottage, this one with a thatched roof over a porch. A child’s cry of pain was heard.

“We missed one!” Captain 7824FB said. “Everyone to my right attack this warforged, everyone to my left hunt down that small human!”

Iron Orphan had already started moving before 7824FB spoke, however. He bolted into the ranks of warforged, tumbling and jumping under and around them, beneath held blades, between massive legs, and over stony shoulders. Most did not have time to react, although he did easily dodge one clumsy greatsword swipe.

A shifter child lay on the floor of the porch, its leg obviously broken. The child was male, about ten years of age, and terrified as Orphan scooped him up.

“Be calm,” the monk assured the boy. “I am not with them.”

“Catch him!” roared Captain 7824FB. The warforged soldiers charged.

Orphan jumped up onto the railing, then onto the porch roof. Stepping quickly and lightly, he made it onto the roof of the house proper, and balanced himself next to a chimney. A javelin flew past him, but it was far from the mark. Still the shifter child pressed against his chest, trying to avoid it.

“This is a child!” Orphan yelled. “A child! What are you doing? Why are you doing it?”

The warforged surrounded the house. Smoke arose from where the torches were pressed against the plaster. Soon it would catch. Captain 7824FB walked up cautiously, having retrieved his sword.

“You are not safe up there!” 7824FB told him. “You should have run when you could!”

Orphan suddenly jumped, and the child made a frightened yelp. The warforged sailed over the ring of soldiers around the house, tucking and rolling as he protected the boy from harm. He stood up directly in front of Captain 7824FB.

“I can run whenever I please,” Orphan said. “You can’t. You will never make it overland through the Reaches, you’ve seen how druids turn trees, animals, and the very ground into their army. And unless you listen to me, you will never have time to fix your ships and sail away either. And if you don’t tell your men to stand down instead of attacking me because you’re too scared to do anything else, I’ll rip your head from your body.”

The soldiers charged, but Captain 7824FB held up his hand. They were confused, but they stopped.

“What do you want me to do?” 7824FB asked. “We are all dead anyway.” He sounded tired, which was odd, given that warforged did not get tired.

“This boy, and any other Reacher who has escaped your massacre, are under my protection,” Orphan said. “You have your men sheathe your blades, and I will take this child and any other survivors back to the village proper with an offer of a cease-fire. They don’t want you here any more than you want to be here. You’ll fix your boats and leave.”

“They will let us leave, just like that?” 7824FB asked. “After what we did?”

“They will if I ask them to,” Orphan said. The boy hugged him, still too scared to speak.

“Why?” 7824FB asked. The warforged captain seemed to want to believe Orphan, but could not bring himself to you. “Why would they listen to you?”

“Because unlike you I don’t make pathetic excuses for my actions,” Orphan responded with contempt. “Unlike you I try to do what is right, even when it brings scorn to me, rather than take comfort in hiding behind the instructions of others.”

“Had you been me, you would have done the same,” 7824FB said weakly.

“I was you,” Orphan said. “I was there with you. I took responsibility for the dead Cannith human, remember? You faded into the crowd. Now, will you tell your men to stand down?”

A long, long pause followed.

7824FB finally nodded. “Stand down,” he said to them. “Sheathe your weapons and stand down. There is a cease-fire. Harm no more Reachers. We head to the docks and try to fix one of the ships.” The warforged soldiers nodded, and began marching down towards the docks. “Prove you are different than me, then,” said 7824FB. “Make the case for my men. We don’t want to fight. Bring the boy back.” And with that he dropped his sword on the ground and walked after his troops.

Orphan and the boy watched them go. For the first time, the boy spoke. “Will you help my leg?” he asked.

“Yes,” the warforged said gently. “Are there other survivors?” He felt the boy tense, and then relax, deciding to trust the warforged monk.

“My Momma, my sister Ossai, and my little brother Aril,” the boy said shakily. “Will they be safe?”

“They will be safe,” Orphan said. “I am Iron Orphan. I will bring you and them into the center of the village.”

“I’m Vacci,” the boy said. “I can’t walk, but I can show you the way.”