“A scout has spotted the enemy a two day’s march off. A lot of ‘em,” Sutebenu said, joining the younger boys sitting upright on the hard ground, staring across the horizon at t he rising sun. It had been three days since they made their camp here, allowing for much needed rest and preparations. “We’re gonna hunker down here and wait for ‘em. From the sounds of it the higher ups got something’ planned, not that they’re talkin’ much.” The man looked down at his own sword that sat in his lap, ominously cold, and his frown deepened. “They say there’s a real bloodthirsty one among ‘em,” he continued, his voice deep and serious. “You boys be watchin’ your back, ‘cause I’ll be doin’ the same for ya.”
“Then you had better be watching your own as well,” Kris added. He looked a mess, but his calm, confident composure made up for what his appearance was lacking. “The best we can do is stay alive and hope to see home again, and that’s what I intend to do. For all of us to do.” Devis nodded, looking pale and sickly like most of the other servants, despite the extra food Sutebenu had been risking his neck to bring to him. Thankfully others seemed too concerned about themselves to take notice.

Kris rose, a troubled look on his face, and had begun pacing when his attention was stolen by a loud horn that sounded from a far corner of the camp. Devis and Sutebenu joined him on their feet, all eyes squinting to see through the dust and obscured their vision. Shouts and yelling followed, then another loud bellow from the horn.
“We‘ve been fooled,” Kris stated. His voice shook with anger, and perhaps even a hint of fear. Devis stood open mouthed in terror as his master began frantically pulling tight the leather straps of the armor and tucked the small sword into the sheath at his side.
“Very risky on their part,” Sutebenu mused, “but it seems to have paid off.”
“What’s going on?” Devis asked helplessly watching both men as they prepared for the slaughter.
“They must have used the dust for cover,” Kris said with a grim look. “If they leave their camp set up and the servants behind it can appear to a scout that they’re still at the camp. A seasoned soldier might have recognized the trap, but it seems we fell right into it. Here.” With that word Kris thrust a dagger into Devis’ hands.
“What is this for?”
“To protect yourself, of course,” Kris responded. “In case anything happens and I don’t come back. I’m sorry. This was the best I was able to get for you.” Devis took a deep shaky breath as he tucked the knife into his pants. Anything he could have said was muted by the sickness in his stomach and the ache in his chest.
“Time to go,” Sutebenu said as he sat the helmet on his head. Devis nodded, pulling his own on. They stood in a circle, silent, all looking not at each other but down at their own feet. With another blast from the horn, Kris turned , walking away without a word. Patting Devis once on the shoulder, Sutebenu mustered a quick smile and followed after the boy, his long strides quickly catching him up. One hand hanging by his side and the other gripping the dagger, Devis watched the backs of the two figures as they disappeared into the cloud of dust.

Skye much preferred the scorching sun and dust stinging his eyes and throat to the cage that was Alden’s tent. It reeked of decay (the head was put on display), sweat (for several reasons), blood, and worst of all it had Alden in it. Alden who was currently sitting next to him mounted on his… whatever he wanted to call it, watching with amusement as his plan marched into action across the plains. But today had been a good day so far, Skye thought. Alden was too busy with his plan to bother him too much. He even got his own horse. The sack of gold he hid inside his armor had helped too, as well as the promise of more once Alden accomplished his mission. Skye’s horse was antsy, feeling it shifting constantly under his weight.
“I think you’ve set yourself up for a bit of disappointment,” Skye said. “Sending the troops into this weather for three days with so few provisions, I don’t think there will be many with the strength to even run away.”
“Bullshit. They’ll come running the minute they see their opponents. I wouldn’t let my sword get clean so easily.”
Sitting silently upon their mounts, the two heard the first clashes of metal on metal, the beginning of what they expected to be a very short lived struggle.

Sutebenu craned his neck to see, but even with his tall stature there were simply too many soldiers in front of the and too much dust in the air. Moving forward at a slow march, Kris could feel his hands and face sweating cold. Tall, bulky strangers stood all around him, forcing him closer to the tall redhead. He would never admit it aloud, but it was intimidating and seemed to drain any hope from him. Men like this would die. Seasoned warriors and strong farm workers would lie bleeding in the dirt. How was he, a young man, barely trained in combat and still frail and wet behind the ears in comparison expected to live? His strength was in knowledge, not in fighting, but the time to turn back was long past.

When they clashed, the sounds were worse than anything Kris could have expected. He cringed at the screams of the dying, if they were real at all. It seemed impossible to hear anything over the crashing and the yelling. Minutes trickled past and the sounds of battle continued, but those in the back lines had yet to see any fighting. Was the enemy really so weak, they wondered. Maybe it was another trick. A feeling of uneasiness overtook them. Even Sutebenu, usually so cool headed, was looking around, straining to see anything. Then it all came at once, soldiers in red pushing through the lines, swords swinging wildly as they charged forward. Kris froze, a moment that would have cost him his life had Sutebenu not reached the savage looking man first, driving his sword through his neck. The man gurgled blood as his body crumpled to the ground in a heap.
“Get your act together, boy!” shouted Sutebenu, kicking another opponent in the chest, knocking him backwards into someone else’s steel blade. Kicking himself for his carelessness, Kris dodged another strike aimed towards his ribs, parrying with his blade before running it through the living flesh of the other. It was kill or be killed. Morality was out the window. And the more he sliced down, the more Kris realized that Devis was right, that there was nothing glorious about killing strangers who’d done no personal wrongs against him, or anyone as far as he knew.
From the corner of his eye he glimpsed Sutebenu. The flimsy chest armor had a large slash running diagonally down the front, but seeing no blood spilling out was relieving. Kris didn’t know how long the surge continued, only that the red stained steel in his hand was growing heavier by the minute, then suddenly it was still. A large hand clapped his shoulder. Sutebenu, breathing hard, looked out across the troops, watching as two lone figures on horseback approached slowly. Kris stood on his toes to see as well, and it was easy to see their losses. As they watched curiously, they saw two men from their own side ride out to meet the strangers. For a long while they sat on their steeds, presumably talking, before their captains began to ride back, the strangers tailing them closely.
“That’s not the usual way of taking prisoners, is it?” Kris asked dumbfounded.
“No, it’s not,” Sutebenu replied, his voice clearly conveying his disapproval. “Something is up. My guess is that we’ll know what by sundown the way word spreads ‘round here.”

And sure enough the large man had spoken true.
“They’re rebels. Our allies. I heard they set this up themselves. I don’t know if I trust them.”
Whispers spread like wildfire.

Arriving back at camp, Kris was greeted by Devis with a bow and formal welcome, though the boy still couldn’t quite hide the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
“Go ahead, no one’s lookin’ now,” said Sutebenu, tying his wild hair back into a ponytail once again. Without a moment’s hesitation Devis lunged forward, embracing his bloodstreaked master with tears. Kris heaved a relieved sigh, tightly returning the act of affection.
“I’m sorry,” was all he could muster. But it was enough, said Devis’ smile, face now stained with tears.
They nibbled at their rations silently, listening intently to the low chatter around them. Heated discussions on weather the strangers were heroes or weasels broke out every so often, but almost always ending with the conclusion that it was better to be safe than sorry, to not let their guard down just yet.
“I don’t like the feel of ‘em,” muttered Sutebenu so only his two young companions could hear. “When it comes to warfare things never work out so smoothly.” Kris nodded his head in response, staring with a blank expression into the dirt.
“I don’t like it much either,” Devis replied in low tones. “Not that I know much about war or anything, but it just feels wrong. Like that feeling you get right before something bad happens. You can’t really put your finger on it or have any evidence, and sometimes people don’t believe you, but you just know.”
“They have the enemy on them, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend,” said Kris firmly. “I’ve heard enough about this for the night anyways. I’m getting rest when I can.”
With that, Kris lay down on his side facing away from their group and closed his eyes. Not the least bit weary, nor inclined to relive the nightmare of the day in his dreams, he settled for closing his eyes and pretending.
Exchanging glances, it was immediate to Sutebenu that Devis was troubled once again. The few moments of relaxation he had enjoyed shortly after their return from that battlefield was gone. Giving a shrug, Sutebenu followed the blond knight’s example, and lay on his back facing the stars beyond the dust storm, arms resting across his stomach. Little by little he willed his eyes to shut against the blackness of the night, leaving Devis all but alone.
“Well,” Sutebenu said, surprising the servant boy, “when it’s a choice between your head and your heart, it’s best to take a bit of wisdom from both.”
His mind, and heart, had been decided.