Chapter 10

Taran was placed under guard in her tent room, and not even Hoen was allowed to see her, given that she committed an offense on the march. She was only given bland oatmeal for breakfast in truest prison fashion, and she spent the rest of the morning awaiting discipline from the general. As an agent of the census, she would have only been dismissed and sent back, but with the army so deep in the wilderness, that would have to wait. Midday arrived, however, and the sentence never came. Did the general just intend to detain her here for the rest of the war, not bothering to have anything more to do with her? Was he agonizing over some special penalty? Was he just busy? She had heard that uncertainty in confinement was as much a punishment as physical torture. That must be it.

Just then, a raucuous cheering flooded the outside of the tent. Eh? Eh?! She jumped to her feet and rushed to the guard… who was not there; seems he had joined in the racket, as well. She rushed outside. What could be so important that practically everyone went out of their way to see…

She gasped.

Guns.

Large, menacing, and most of all, new guns. Everywhere. Towed artillery made up most of the kit—precisely what the army needed for their strategy of creeping barrage towards the Trans. And shells. Loads and loads of shells delivered by large trucks manned by fresh troops from Lilan… Hold on. Heh…? These men. Were they really from Lilan? They did not wear uniforms, just shirts and jeans with an overall color scheme of red and black. Red and black. Were they… Were they from Five-Moon!?

“Whoa—hey!”

Someone yanked her arm and was now dragging her. It was Hoen. He looked mad. “Hey, easy on me!” she said breaking free. But he only grabbed back and dragged her again. “What’s your problem, bro?”

“It’s our problem, mine and yours. The general. He is discarding us.”

“Hah!?”

“He talked to me. The government wired him over the radio.” He stopped and inched his face menacingly close to hers. “They ordered us to stop mapping. We are useless now.”

“…”

“You can’t let that happen, can you?!”

“And so…?”

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard. “We will be sent to the front! They will feed us to the enemy! You think we can just walk away? They will not give us an escort back to Ozhakoland.” He pointed at the men cheering the arrival of the weapons. “They jailed you, didn’t they? They roughed you up just for visiting the hospital! They said you will be put at the frontline. What kind of sick thinking do they have?!”

Oh. So nobody had clarified to him it was her own doing. “I’m fine with that. I really am.”

He gazed wild-eyed at her. “Did you get addled from your oatmeal? Leave me out of it.” He strode away furious, but then stopped in his tracks and went back. “Know what, let’s just bug out of here. Pack up now, while they are distracted. We will continue the mapping ourselves. Since the government let us go, they won’t care about us anymore. They’ll just assume we will be picked off by the veldt apes. As if we’d let them. Let’s go!”

“Hoen!”

“What?”

“I was the one who committed the infraction, not you. I can talk to the general. You will stay here in camp. Have a gun. Show them you are no deadweight.”

“Like that did you a hard ounce of good! Alright. I will fight for myself alone. And you… Be an oaf. Be a cold, dead oaf.” He strode away again, and looked back. “Was nice meeting you!” he yelled in his most anxious voice, clearly not fine with parting with her just yet. But… whatevs. He left her behind in the end.

The following morning at sunrise, Taran was dragged out of her room to join the vanguard, whose job for the day was to clear out the grounds where the new cannons were to be emplaced, within view of the high embankment that bore the Trans. Every last enemy was to be offed, and if there were too many, they shall ride back and call up reserves.

Not all of them will be able to do that last bit… of course.

The army at least had the courtesy to send her off with complete gear on her final mission. There were the standard two packs, one for weapons and one for wittles. One and a half for weapons, to be clear, half the food bag was crammed with ammo and spare parts for the rifle. Which was a little dumb, she thought, if they were so sure the vanguard will be dead so soon, they shouldn’t have filled their bags to the absolute brim with potential captured supplies. Whatevs.

Taran had already loaded her horse and was climbing onto the saddle when her ear caught someone calling after her. It was… Krum? The trooper ran over and promptly collapsed on her knees when he reached her. “Our commander…” he panted. “He said…” Huff. “He said I had a death wish.”

What is this about? “Did you volunteer for the vanguard?”

“Not for the vanguard.” He stared her with such a piercing gaze it unnerved her for a moment. “You should know by now. My platoon has shunned me. Everyone else in the new batallion don’t wanna have anything to do with me. I got nowhere to return. It’s your fault.”

“…”

“No… No, rather… It was mine. Gah! I knew it. I should have known better. I didn’t want to! Why did I even speak up for you in that pit!? Look at me. Look at where I am now. I got nowhere to return. Grrrr…” He was close to tears, but was a little too mad for that at the moment. “I cast my lot with you, OK? Don’t you turn me away now!”

Taran smiled at the poor, hysteric young man. “I thought it would be a bore to ride out the first ten miles or so by my lonesome… ‘cause the people who ride with me are cold. I don’t mind a partner at all!” She took his hand, and with the softness of her own, took his breath out of his throat. He was dazed as she seated him up on the saddle before her. When she finally took her place in front of him, a sense of closure fell on them both.

“Shall we ride?”

Krum let himself nod, and they were off.

As they galloped into the wind, he finally allowed the tears to fall. The long days of living on his own have ended.

“Hey, Krum.”

“Yessir?!”

“What’s with that reaction? I’m not your superior. We’re mates now, ar’nt we? You can just call me Taran.”

The battle opened with a shootout on the plains, gun on gun, horse on horse. Krum had since known better than to fire away at speedy raiders with a bullet hailstorm, aiming and shooting with a simple rifle, firing only when the enemy was in sight and close enough. But all they were doing was chase each other in loops all over the veldt like schoolchildren, stuck in an aimless game of tag with nary a single acre secured.

“There’s no point to this,” Krum told Taran. “Let’s ride back for reinforcements.”

“We haven’t felled a single man.”

“They ain’t letting us, can’t you see? Let’s get the army. The barbars will retreat, at least.”

Taran reined the horse in, and took her time scanning the veldt, assessing the situation. And then, “You’re right. They are baiting us to them to keep us away from the highway.” Looking around some more, “I got it!” She pointed to a lone tree in the distance. “Can you shinny up there? Wear some branches. Get your rifle.”

He saw what she was trying to make him do. “I’m no good shot. I need to be point-blank to be sure of a kill.”

“Can you do better? Twenty yards.”

“I… I’ll try.”

Sigh. “No good. I know. Shoot the horse. Bigger target. As soon as it tumbles, reload fast, take out the rider.”

“…”

“We been shooting at moving targets from a moving platform all morning. At about the same distance. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

Krum took in the confidence in her eyes and nodded. “Alright.”

For the rest of that day, Taran lured or chased enemies one by one into Krum’s kill zone. Together, they offed four, the fifth one rode away quickly realizing he was about to be trapped. Taran rode to the tree; their secret is now out. “Krum! Radio someone.” She dismounted and tied the horse before climbing up to him.

As soon as they saw a uniformed rider pass by, Taran whistled. The trooper stopped at shouting distance. “Sir! Tell some guys to grab trees, molehills…. Fire at the enemy from cover.”

“We can’t keep a secret like that for long, can we?”

“I’m counting on it! They’ll tell their fellas. That’ll fence them out of half the field. The rest of us will chase them back and secure ground.”

“We will have to work fast. Word gets around quick—”

BRAMMMM!

A flood of fire, as though a great wave crashed out of an ocean from nowhere, surged between the trooper and the tree.

When they came to, the fellow was gone. He must have been swept away.

Krum’s teeth was chattering. “The army… They’re firing at us!”

The horse she tied was mad with fright. Taran was herself pale with fright. “No… Look!”

He turned his gaze to the Trans. All of a sudden, there were dark, hulking shapes atop the embankment. It did not take long to understand what those were. Just then, a shriek sliced the air. “Krum! Jump!!!!”

They both leapt off the tree.

The ball of flame and splinters consumed the tree just as they touched the grass. The shockwave felt as if a truck rolled over their backs. The twigs peppered them like bee stings.

Taran fought to stay conscious through the pain. Her ears were still ringing. She saw the horse bolt away. Her partner has passed out.

“No… not now…”

She struggled to her feet and dragged Krum by the collar, looking around, and found a dry creekbed. She flung him into the trench, waking him up, and dived in. She reached over the trough and grabbed fistfuls of dry grass. “Here, cover your ears!”

“What…?”

She forced the grass on him herself.

For the rest of the day, the two huddled tight, Taran crammed in Krum’s hug, weeping together as a fiery storm beat down on the land. She embraced herself to cover her breasts, the last thing she remembered to do before the barrage ensued. There was smoke everywhere above them, they had no way of knowing if there was a fire nearby. Cries of terror shot through their ears, if not much of the cry itself because of the earplugs, then the terror, along with the frenetic pounding of hooves; their comrades were fleeing the battleground. The horses just kept coming, were there this many in the vanguard when they rode out? No… She could see the swift passing of shadows. Horses were jumping over them. The enemy.

“Shhhhhh—!” Krum nodded in agitation. She could only imagine what was happening this moment in camp. The scattered remnants of the vanguard rush headlong into the waves of troopers who would have been ready to march forward and occupy the ground that was supposedly cleared, throwing them in a panic, making them easy prey for the raider cavalry. The camp is thrown into confusion and full retreat, most packing up against the orders of the brass and escaping on their vehicles just like that morning of that attack long ago, hastily towing away the unused artillery that they just got from Five-Moon… what was left of it rather, they can’t just haul off a major portion of something heavy as those. Perhaps half of all the guns will be captured.

Poor Hoen. Well, he probably got carried off by the army. He is not letting himself be caught by veldt apes, is he? She knows him.

“…”

Who gave the raiders their own guns?

Was it another Sister?

“…”

The tears flowed even more freely now.

To think she had let herself be pawned off by Treverorum to the likes of them.

“…”

Oh. Was it dark already?

It certainly is dim here in the trench.

The veldt had quieted down. Now, only the wind could be heard whistling on the grass. Krum’s hold on Taran slackened.

“Stay down, Krum,” she said through the tears.

“…”

“There might be riders around.”

“…”

“Let’s stay the night here, at least.”

Krum heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“I… I leaked myself. I-I was scared. I was scared, of course. I hope… I hope you’re not…”

“We can’t change right now.”

Well, that much was obvious— “Taran!”

“Huh?”

He pushed her back, held her at arm’s length, and looked her over. She was bleeding. In her pants. Taran saw it, and her eyes widened. Only now did she remember to notice that she was actually hurting from the discharge. She did feel pain, but in the frenzy of destruction she distantly thought she was just injured from the earlier fall from the tree. But now… Why did it have be a man who sees it!?

She shoved Krum off of her and scrambled off to a side. “Don’t mind it!”

“Taran, you’re wounded! We gotta treat it!”

“I can treat myself! Look after your own.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” he said crawling to her.

“I said, look after yourself!” she screamed flinging a fistful of dirt in his face.

“…”

“…”

They were both shocked. Taran’s hand was still hanging in the air, in complete disbelief at what she just did.

“…”

“…”

“I… I-I’m sorry,” she said curling into herself. “But please…

“Please don’t mind me.”

“…”

Her eyes were glued her feet in embarrassment. But she can feel him look at her. Krum’s eyes were wide, they shone in low light, as though realizing something.

“Do you want to run away now? Take care, please. It… It’s dark.”

She still felt his stare. She kept feeling it. He did not leave.

Instead, Krum lay against the wall of the trough, feeling his wet pants, smelling the pee. Welp. There was nothing to do now, there was no use being fidgety when there was no way to clean oneself in this wilderness.

The night wore on and the moon shone faintly through a screen of overcast. The dogs were howling again. Taran had covered her trousers with dirt to suppress the scent of her blood.

“Taran.”

“Yes?”

He wanted to ask her something… but decided to put it off after he addresses a more urgent concern. “The army has abandoned us now, right?”

“Yes. They will list us as dead.”

“Where do we go? Back to Oz?”

“No, we won’t make it. Not in a year, perhaps. We got no horse.” And no trucks to hunt down with improvised spikes.

“Are we hunting stuff to eat now?”

“I… guess? First thing tomorrow, we walk. We look for a river. We take what we can along the way.”

“…”

“Don’t be afraid. I been there. Alone.”

Scenes of Athos and the Bensons flashed by and mixed up in her head.

“I been there. There are two of us here. It will be alright.

“It will be alright,” she comforted herself.

Her throat began to shrink again, and a sourness was starting to rise within.

“Krum?” She inched her hand towards him. “Could you hold me?”

The trooper regarded her in the darkness. He can make her out. That soft, mildly callused hand lay close, waiting for him. I was about to ask that myself, Taran.

He took her hand. Squeezed it. Warmed each other with those hands. And the tension wound down, as did the sourness, the fear, they all let it drain away as they let themselves doze off.