Chapter 69: My Own Fault (Volas)

My office is a lot quieter now that the war has essentially ended in our favour. My fingers press against the chain of the magical necklace. Wondering that if I press hard enough, will my thumbs explode? No, don’t be foolish. There is no way that can happen, even if I try. There is no good in wanting harm to myself, not when we won the war.
Drums, flutes, and damn singing from the city flows through every hall of the palace. News travels fast; the entire North is celebrating. The Dog King is dead, killed by the Empress’s chosen General. I don’t feel their sense of joy. This victory is empty, this whole fucking war is just a disaster, and I am left to clean it up! People died, too many people died for something that should never have happened in the first place. How can I celebrate? What is the point of celebrating when there is nothing to smile about?
The war is still ongoing, and I will need to plan to take over the South. A war meeting requires my counsel. I need to outline the plan for everyone. Some Commanders will need to stay behind to ensure that the plantations and mines under our control are contained. An uprising from them will make things difficult, and I doubt we have the resources to beat them once we make our way South. The guard will need to be talked to. The fleet won’t be useful, but they should have some say on the matter. Hacket, thank the Gods, will finally be here after months out at sea. I just hope the war is kind to him.
Olivia sits alone, silent about the battle. She tries to paint, but sometimes she will stop to stare blankly at her drawing. Perhaps her mind goes back to the explosions and the screaming. I let her have an entire week to herself so she doesn’t do anything besides relaxing. However, the poor girl insisted she paints. I suppose that is her way of processing the death and destruction of her people.
My door opens, Huson peers inside before entering. He seems distressed; something is on his mind, and I can tell it is eating away at him. Best not to ask. I don’t want to cause further stress or delays.
‘How are you doing, Volas?’ He says to me with a long face.
‘Poorly,’ I admit. ‘I don’t want to go to the war meeting. I don’t feel ready.’
Huson nods as he sits across from me, his head hangs low. His lips curl as he notices the necklace wrapping my hands like prayer beads. ‘No… I don’t think either of us are.’
We sit in silence, unsure how we can continue the conversation when all of this is clear. The war is over, but there is no sense of victory or pride in it. It is so silly to repeat that over and over again, as if the whole thing is unreal. Though in truth, I am shocked. In a way, I struggle to see how we could’ve won this.
‘What do you think they will write about?’ Huson asks. ‘How will the future see us?’
‘What can they say? We did our jobs.’
‘No, I think they will say more than that.’ Huson responds after taking a long, heavy breath. ‘I hate this war. I hate what we fought and the reason behind it. People will say I proved myself, but…’
‘But we failed.’ Huson stares at me, surprised at my response. He leans back in his chair, wanting me to continue and say what is on both of our minds. ‘We sent people to die, Huson. We lied, cheated, and killed our way to get what we needed to win. Yet in the end, we fought for the Dogs’ enslavement. We won, but at the cost of who we are as people. I don’t think we proved ourselves, not when it is clear that all we did was beat an army of slaves.’
‘Do you ever think peace was possible? Is there a way to end the war sooner?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’ I lie before putting my necklace in my desktop drawer. But before I can close it, the glint of the blue gem reminds me of something. Why did Marak say he wanted to talk for peace? Why were the Dogs sloppy as they marched? If he sent a message, why didn’t it go to me?
‘Something on your mind?’ Huson says to me. Snapping me out of my trance, giving me the chance to put the necklace away and out of my sight.
‘No,’ I mumble. ‘Nothing important. I will meet you in the war room. We will discuss plans there. But before you go, can you arrange for Traya to meet me after? I want to discuss how we can maintain communications as we travel over Galire.’
Huson stands up and gives a tired salute. He isn’t doing that out of formality or respect; he is doing it as a way to say goodbye. Huson, the man who can shout orders from across large fields without taking a breath, is too tired to speak. I suppose we all are in the end.
The moment he leaves my room, I rise from my seat to straighten my clothes. On the wall near my office door, I crack a smile at Olivia’s painting of me. Still unfinished to figure out what my right hand should hold or be positioned as.
But that spark of happiness flees from my soul. She, like everyone who doesn’t know me, saw a hero. Someone who saved the Empire. She drew someone strong, someone with the power to move mountains. Yet from its abstract form, I know what I am. What I truly am. A soldier who fought for a great evil, a man who is tricked. There was a chance for peace. But Traya took that away from us, and I need to know why. I deserve to know why.

...

The room erupts in chatter as everyone looks over the map of the island. Four hours, four long and gruelling hours of analysing, reading, arguing, and planning. The majority of Commanders that I trust in their abilities to help reclaim the South talk amongst themselves as they compare troop numbers and resources they already have on hand, and what they will need to take on the Dog threat.
Hacket and some of his Captains are among the leaders who gladly join us in our plans to take the south. Elements of the Pretorian Guard and Dragon Fleet are not present, but again, they will have to attend to religious matters first. I am sure to brief them on the plan.
Huson was present for a moment. But he knows he isn’t a strategic sort and decides to excuse himself from the war room. He tried to act professional when he left the room, doing his best to hide that face of worry. It is no secret that Jack isn’t doing well. If I am to find him, it will without a doubt be in the hospital next to him. I can’t blame him; he prefers to be with people he loves.
To think, hours ago, I arrived in a room cheering at my achievements. Only to watch as they strategise the final phase of this war. The reclamation of the South. Some Commanders and leaders shower me with praise and compliments, even Hacket, who can barely walk and stand after being out at sea for months, joined in to thank me. But I don’t remember any of it. Most are genuine, but they are all empty either way. I just want this war to end.
‘… there comes the issue of Galire.’ One Commander continues. ‘The Dogs attacked us from there, but I see no strategic value in travelling through the desert to chase them off.’
I rub the ridge of my brow before responding. ‘The Galire Desert is still part of our island and Empire, Commander Kohl. Even if our Empire never utilises the region or develops it, the indigenous populations of the desert are still our subjects and should be liberated from the Dog threat.’
It is going to be a shit job crossing the desert. I doubt the Dogs will have any forces there, but I do need to make sure I can chase them out from there and use that momentum to break through into the South.
‘I will lead the forces traversing through the desert.’
Kohl speaks up in protest. ‘General, traversing the desert is no easy task.’
‘I am aware of the dangers.’ I swiftly respond as I move a few markers to demonstrate my plan to the entire room. ‘However, for us to succeed, I will need the majority of the cavalry units at my disposal and enough supplies to last me for weeks. The Dogs will await my arrival, which will give Hacket a chance to conduct an amphibious landing on the southern shores without any resistance and establish a new front. However, this can only work if they know I am coming. They are not foolish enough to set up the remainder of their forces to go against me without purpose. Not when their king is dead.’
Hacket plays with his grey beard as he looks over the map. Humming to a tune as he marches over to the centre of the war room to point at a few key areas. ‘I think it will be best to deploy troops in two areas. Even though the place is burned down, Ol Shire can provide your forces with a necessary logistical advantage in the west. In the east, I’ll conduct a landing personally near Fort Shatler. With these two areas secured, we can orchestrate additional attacks as well as supply our forces with resources from the North to aid in the campaign.’
A solid plan. There is no guarantee that there will be food down south, and we need to have supplies to give out to anyone who survived under Dog occupation in case a famine ravaged the area.
‘What about the rest of your fleet, Admiral? I know tens of thousands of my troops will require a lot of your ships to help transport my army to their designated locations. But I like to know if there is anything you can do to aid me.’
‘Some Captains will continue to patrol the South, though to a limited capacity.’ Hacket replies with a low groan, like he is about to say something less than ideal. Even the Captains of the Imperial Navy seem uncomfortable about the whole thing. ‘A good chunk of my fleet will also need to be on standby. I have word that the High Priestess will want to conduct an amphibious landing of their own, and that will require additional resources. Which will coincide with your invasion plan.’
I know the guard will join us, and I can see why they are not so happy about the arrangement. Besides joining us to not put any strain on our resources, they prefer to do their own thing. As long as they invade a different part of the South, then I can just pretend that they are not there. Their help will be good, but at this point, I don’t care anymore.
‘What about the patrol fleets?’ I ask Hacket. ‘What will they do if they encounter any Dog ships?’
‘We only have interceptors patrolling the South at the moment. They can take on a single ship on their own, but they are not meant for combat. So far, their orders are to fall back and report any sightings. After the landings, the bulk of my fleet will go back to patrolling the South to prevent any escape while also supplying your forces. However, there will be a window before that can even happen.’
I raise a brow. ‘How big is that window?’
‘About now and, if we are fast, two weeks after the amphibious landings.’
Okay, that is a large window. But I can work with that. It just means we should move sooner rather than later. With what we have now and our motivation to reclaim the South. We can start our invasion within the week…
Dong!
The clang of gold cathedral bells rings through the war room, and everyone jolts up to look at me for how I should finish up this meeting. Time flies when you are focused on the end. ‘I’ll call for recess. Everyone should get some lunch and come back in two hours.’
Everyone rises from their seats and does the usual farewell before heading off to get some food. I stay behind, burying my face in my hands with a tired moan. I have someone to talk to afterwards, and I know the answers I will get will not be pleasing.
‘You’re tired, kid.’ I look up at Hacket standing across from me. ‘When was the last time you slept?’
‘Ever since this war started, almost never.’ That is the best way to put it. I expect him to give me an old, tired lecture about finding rest, that a leader should look after himself before looking after others. Or that sort of crap.
‘You’ve been through hell.’ He replies, causing me to lean back into my chair in confusion. ‘I heard some things happened in this palace. The deals you made, the bill you pushed. Playing politics when our Empire was facing certain defeat. Even when you brought that Dog here to be your personal artist. A lot of strange things happened here, and I can tell from here it is eating away at you.’
I open my mouth to reply, but he raises a hand to shut me up. Like he is preventing me from saying something stupid.
‘Volas, I’ve been an Admiral far too many times. I know the choices someone has to make to get what they need. That you push for the bill is made with the blood of our soldiers.’
He knows? Does he know what I did? No, that can’t be right. If he does, then why didn’t he report me to the Empress for my crime? ‘Every bill and legislation is written with blood.’ I vaguely reply, though I can’t hide the guilt in my voice.
‘True, and I don’t blame you for it. The desperate make the most drastic of measures.’ Hacket says, reciting an old proverb from our holy texts before pulling out a folded piece of paper to hand to me. ‘But I fear some people know how to play the game better than you.’
Hacket leaves me alone, without waving or saying goodbye. I open the paper to read the contents inside to read a simple note. “The Dogs are doomed.”

...

I look everywhere for Traya. Marching around the halls of the palace and its grand garden. Then I found her. Near the palace entrance, across from where the carriages are parked. Talking with the leader of the Inspectors. The two notice me. Traya whispers something into the Inspector’s ear which prompts him to walk away. She likes to think she can handle me!
Traya is in charge of handling the messages and establishing communications between me and my soldiers. But I should expect the Inspectors to have their hands in the war and near me in some way. I should’ve known sooner!
‘General Regali. I didn’t…’
‘Cut the crap!’ I snarl at her. ‘I know the Dogs wanted peace. Why wasn’t I notified?’
Traya looks around before responding. ‘It wasn’t necessary, General.’
So it is true. She isn’t denying that the Dogs wanted peace, and we could talk with them. We could’ve ended this fucking war sooner!
‘Necessary! Of course, it is necessary! I am the General of the fucking Army, and I should’ve been notified if peace was an option. This war could’ve ended without the cost of so many lives!’
She shakes her head while her expression darkens. ‘Volas, can I call you that? Volas, it isn’t necessary to tell you about Dogs wanting peace or having an interest in peace. Because you are a soldier, you have made a bill that ensures that your kind never interferes with the affairs of the common people. In turn, the common folk will never interfere with the business of the soldier. Isn’t that what you want?’
‘It isn’t what I want! I want an end to this war…’
‘And it ended.’ Traya cuts me off. ‘You ended it. You were given the bravest men and women, the finest soldiers the Empire could provide, and you ended the Dog’s uprising.’
‘You know what I am talking about. I am not referring to war, I am referring to peace! Why wasn’t I told? Why was I kept in the dark until now? That is cruel! Evil! Hundreds, no, thousands died by my hands, following my orders. Some would still be alive if I knew!’
‘Fine, you want a proper answer?’ Traya scoffs, like I am some sort of child who can’t understand. ‘You hypocritical piece of shit! Don’t tell me that crap about caring about the lives of those under your command when you have sent out dozens of men and women to perish to pass that bill of yours.’
She cracks a smile, seeing how my calm expression fails me as I reveal my shock and horror. How could she have known?
‘Starting to click?’ She continues. ‘My niece was part of the unit that you murdered. It is so easy to show the world the sort of man you are. Someone who will sacrifice others for their own gain to fight a war that is already deemed to be winnable. The only reason I went along with you is because I agree with the idea of the bill. You military types are so out of touch that you couldn’t comprehend what the Empire needs. You're rabble, an idiot whose ego got in the way.’ Traya leans in to whisper. ‘When we conducted that vote, it was unanimous. The Dogs deserved to die. Peace was never an option.’
As she walks away from me, I call out to her. ‘What will happen to the Dogs?’
‘What about them?’ She stops to face me.
‘We still have some as slaves. What will happen to them?’
Tray walks back to me, like she is eager to reveal some sort of sick secret before walking away. ‘You know the mushrooms of Bravens Mine? We know them too.’
My heart sinks into itself, my stomach turns in disgust at the knowledge of what is going to happen. What have I done? By the Gods. What have I done?!
They already knew. The means to kill the Dogs and mask it all as a disease or plague. There won’t be talks of freeing the slaves or releasing the Dogs. They will just kill them! Slaughter every last one of them in a generation or two. A genocide that will end an entire species just because they went against us.
And it is all my fault. I am the one who killed them, the one who allowed this to happen. The Shaman won’t stop this because they will just make it look like nature is taking its course. They might even pretend to try to find the cure just to satisfy the old man. If I speak out against them, then I will put myself in further danger. My friends and family will all suffer if I decide to go against what the council already agreed on.
No matter what. I am responsible. I am not just the butcher of the Dogs. Not after what is happening and what I have done to get my bill passed. I am their doom, the reason their species will go extinct.