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- Author: B. Miles
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What was left of the color in Lagon’s face drained away.
“You’re going to kill me?” he asked. “Banishing me is death enough. I was still a General. This was my army. I only did what I thought was necessary.”
“The sentence for treason is death.” Cam said, pitching his voice louder. He reached for his magic and let the flame run down its blade.
He had to send a message.
Fear spiked in Lagon’s eyes. Cam could see the flames reflected in his expression as he stepped forward.
“Kneel,” Cam said.
“You can’t be serious,” Lagon said. “You can’t be—”
The guard holding Lagon’s elbow kicked the back of his knees. Lagon fell forward with a grunt. He hit the ground hard and caught himself before he dropped flat on the grass.
His neck craned up. Cam stepped forward as the guards fell back.
The world was hushed. Clouds drifted in front of the sun. Shadows slipped across Lagon’s face.
“Last words,” Cam said.
“I did what I thought was right,” Lagon said. “Please, you can still banish me.”
“The sentence is death.” Cam gripped his flaming sword in both hands. Lagon’s eyes closed tight and he tilted his head forward, presenting the back of his neck.
“Make it fast,” Lagon said.
Cam brought his sword down as hard as he could. The super-heated blade sliced through skin, muscle, sinew, and bone. Lagon’s head hit the ground with a soft thump and rolled a few feet away. Lagon’s body pitched sideways.
There wasn’t much blood. Cam’s fire cauterized the wounds.
The clouds drifted away from the sun and light came flooding back.
Cam released his magic. He stared at the severed head. The eyes stared back, blank and unseeing.
He felt sick as he held his blade to the side, waiting for it to cool.
“Bury him,” Cam said as loud as he dared. He feared his voice was going to break at this crucial moment. “Bury him, and make sure the rest of the army understands what happens to traitors.”
Cam looked around. Key stared back, her expression blank. Brice looked sad as she tugged at her hair.
“The real enemy is out there,” Cam said. “The wolves are coming. The fight is coming. And if we let men like Lagon spread deceit, dissent, and outright lies meant to break us apart, we will lose. But if we stand together for what’s right, if we do the hard work, if we step up and fight, then we can live through this. We can see our children grow and have children of their own.” Cam flicked his sword and slid it into its sheath. “This was never going to be easy. But what we do now matters. If we can step up and fight, if we can do the hard things, history will remember us as great men and women willing to sacrifice for the good of every Human in this world. But if we bicker, argue amongst ourselves, and blame our problems on others, then history won’t remember us at all.”
Cam finished his speech and turned back to the command tent. He could hear breathing around him. The silence was so oppressive that he worried he might not make it back to the tent at all. He worried it might crush him.
But as he reached the flap, a cheer rose from somewhere in the back. He wasn’t sure who began it, or who took it up, but soon the enlisted men were chanting: Shaman! Shaman! Shaman!
Cam paused at the entrance to the tent and held up a hand to acknowledge the cheers before stepping back inside. The cheer continued for some time, and Cam sat alone at the command table, drinking water and staring at a map of the region, thinking about his future, about his past, and about what he’d become.
30
Cam’s back ached as he sat straight against a tree trunk. He’d been there for an hour, his eyes shut tightly enough to leave blobs in his vision.
He could still feel his blade slice through Lagon’s neck. He could still see Lagon’s blank eyes staring up at him from the grass.
“Ah, shit,” he said and slapped his fist against the tree. He couldn’t seem to drop into the deep meditative state he craved. If only he could find that centered peace, he might be able to stop thinking about killing Lagon in front of half the army.
“I’m not sure that tree did anything to you.”
He opened his eyes with a start. Brice stood across the clearing from him, her arms hanging loose at her side. She wore a simple gray tunic, top two buttons undone, and a pair of tight dark pants. Her sword belt was missing, and her hair hung loose at her shoulders.
He’d never seen her looking so normal before.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t take it out on the tree.”
“What are you doing out here?” She tiled her head.
“I was trying to find some peace and quiet,” he said.
“I can leave you, if you want.”
“That’s okay.” He shifted and leaned forward. “Come sit with me.”
She hesitated. “I just wanted to come out and make sure you were okay. Arter said you gave him the slip, and I thought…”
“You thought, what?”
“I don’t know. That you were upset.”
He gave her a flat look. “I am upset, Brice,” he said.
She nodded and walked over. She sat down on the grass beside him and picked up a stray leaf. She began to rip it into small pieces, staring down at her fingers as she dropped the pieces onto the dirt in front of her.
“What you did was hard,” she said. “Killing a man like that… it’s not the same thing as killing someone in battle.”
“No, it’s not.”
“He was helpless. Couldn’t fight back.”
Cam grimaced. “I know.”
“Sorry.” She smiled a little. “If it helps, I think you did the right thing.”
“I’m not so sure.”
She finished tearing up the leaf and let the bits fly into the wind.
“I debated following you out here,” she said.
“I’m surprised you
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