Tale of Four

Stepping into the small ruins of a Desert village, Oliver looked around, seeing ash and bones littered around, the fires that burned the land long extinguished, but the scars unhealed. Kicking a piece of debris, he clicked his tongue at the horror around him. The people of the village, who were allowed to survive and remain huddled within the ruins, prayed for a second horror not to befall them.

"Oliver." Louis walked over to his side and said in a low tone, looking around at what remained. "We ride out soon, nothing left to scavenge from this place." Oliver looked at Louis and scoffed.

"I assume this is the work of Lord Limb?" Oliver asked, hearing the cries of a villager in the distance, when a Valley soldier forced their way into what remained of their home. Although he wished to run over and see what was happening, he held his place, knowing it was just another horror of war taking place that would happen hundreds of times elsewhere.

"I believe we are meant to say, unmarked bandits." Louis tried to joke, getting a flat stare in reply. Clearing his throat, he sighed and nodded, "Lord Limb has promised to provide results." Looking around, Louis frowned, "I fear they may be too effective." Once again, they heard a scream in the distance, and using everything he had, Oliver clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms.

"How long until we reach the Desert’s Gate?" Picturing the map of the realm in his mind, Oliver asked about their target, the line of forts that connected up to the Waterway, down to the coast, on the border of the Valleys, the first line of defence for the Desert.

"Who knows. If we march undisturbed, a week or two. If we continue to face ambushes, then maybe a month." Louis said with an annoyed tone. Nodding, his eye twitched, hearing a scream again. Oliver froze up and touched the hilt of his sword. Before he could step forward, he felt Louis’ palm on his shoulder. "No. Whoever is causing that sound will be punished by their commander, not a random knight." Louis said with a smile that unnerved. Staring at it, Oliver knocked that hand off and walked forward, drawing his blade.

"If you want, behead me. But I am struggling to contain myself. Many around are." Oliver said, indicating to the knights and men-at-arms securing the village, closing their eyes and suppressing the sounds echoing throughout.

"I am ordering you," Louis said halfheartedly.

"War reuqires disipline, My Lord. We let this carry on, and the men will get ideas." Oliver said, walking off, ignoring what more Louis wanted to say and followed the screams. Beneath his feet, he felt ash crumple. A scream echoed again, but with it, he saw the burned-out building where it came from. Commonfolk of the village circled around, angered, bloodthirsty looks on their faces, staring but terrified to act, happy to keep the small peace they finally had if it meant enduring the sound.

Oliver didn’t care. Walking in, he saw a man saddling a woman, who fought against him, crying, desperately trying to push him off. The man tried to hold her face down, but each time she fought her face free, she let out a scream pleading for help. Oliver acted quickly. Grabbing the back of the man’s collar, he pulled them off, throwing them backwards. Before the man could rise, he delivered a swift kick towards his chin, throwing him back down and kneeling over, throwing a fury of punches into his nose until it exploded with blood.

Rising, he looked back at the woman who cried, huddling backwards, staring at him with terror and said nothing, grabbing the man’s hair, and dragging him out. Throwing him onto the ground, knights and men-at-arms quickly surrounded him, ushering the commonfolk away as Oliver drew his sword and rested it on the man’s neck. Looking around, he caught Louis’ eye, who watched him, lifitng an eyebrow, interested in what action he would take.

"Who does he serve?" Asking, only the blowing wind replied. Oliver looked around and clicked his tongue. "Who does he serve?" Asking again, the man lifted his head and stared at Oliver hatefully.

"Lord Alka..." Oliver slammed his head into the sand, pushing deeper, forcing him to suck it up when he could no longer hold his breath.

"You do not serve him." Looking at Louis, he saw the young man smile and nod in approval. Everyone knew that if the man had finished his sentence, he would have tarnished the Great Lord’s name.

"Who?" Louis was the one asking this time, stepping forward, the sigil of a major house on his shoulder, enough of a relief to make a man brave enough to step forward.

"Lord Doy." One man said with a low voice, making Louis smile.

"Who? A minor lord of no renown. A mere steward of a major Lord." Scoffing, he walked forward, "And he dared try to say soemthing foolish." He crossed his arms and nodded at Oliver. Oliver smiled and pulled his hand away, reaching for his sword.

Placing it on the man’s neck, he tried to beg but failed to do so before the blade fell, taking it off in one fell swoop. Flicking his blade to clean it of blood, he took a deep breath, "We are not barbarians, we are not savages." Saying he sheathed the blade and took a deep breath, "Do not forget yourself or your vows. This is war, not a den for you to betray our Lord’s teachings."

Walking off, Louis followed behind, commanding with his eyes that they would face the same fate if they acted the same way. Although they could see some were angered by such an execution, no one said anything, with enough people disgusted by the rape that had just occurred to make them feel it was justified.

"You are lucky he served a mere steward." Louis quietly said, making sure no one heard, "Had he served someone of standing, I would not protect you."

"Is that all that matters? Blood and land." Oliver said with disgust. Looking at the village, he saw a few of the commonfolk native to it look at him with less hateful looks than they gave to the others. Even if he did the right thing, he knew better than to assume they would welcome him; after all, he was a member of the invading force who had caused the destruction of their home.

Louis chuckled and nodded, "Yes. If you have money, blood, or land, you can get away with nearly anything. I say this not proudly nor as a critique but as a fact. Someone has an issue with what you do; you can simply buy someone who can quash that problem." Sighing, Louis looked up at the sky, "Power is everything. Don’t like it, get said power and enforce your truth."

"Faith and vows." Oliver dryly chuckled, "They truly mean nothing."

"Lord Limb strolled through this village. Now look at it. Sure, he may have criminals in his service, but he and many he took are knights who underwent the same vows you did. They believe in the same Gods as you and me, and did it anyway. Why? Becuase they could and becuase it’s effective." Louis said before, thinly smiling, patting Oliver’s arm, "I thought you had fought wars before? Are such tactics a first?"

"Of course. The minor conflicts in the flatlands I fought in never required the burning of villages, as they were usually what people fought over. No point destroying what you want. And if you did want to, well, Lord Clover would be the one you answer to for the crimes. He would allow conflict but not barbarity." Oliver siad with a tired voice, "This isn’t war."

"This is exactly it. During the Desert uprising, do you know what tales came from it other than those of glory? The desert massacres of villages. They are rats, the lot of them. I tell you, if they ever enter our lands with or without Lord Limbs’ actions, they would do the same thing. Burning, pillaging, raping, killing. All of it." Louis smiled, "Is it wrong? Sure, but for a lot of the older men with us, they experienced these things firsthand and hold a grudge, one they wish to see repaid." Oliver shook his head and walked off.

Stepping beyond the village’s boundaries and finding the nearby camp, he walked around, coming upon Jeremy near the outskirts, looking out at the village, the young boy unsure what to feel about the sight. "Jeremy," Oliver said with a soft voice p0lacing his hand on his shoulder. Jeremey looked up, staring into his eyes, before looking back at the village.

"Ser." His tone was quiet, almost unsure of what he was actually seeing. Oliver smiled in relief that Jeremy hadn’t walked deeper into the village and seen what it was truly like. "What is the point of it all. It doesn’t seem like a place we need to take."

"It’s not. As for why." Oliver rubbed his eyes and sighed, "To make our enemy focus on more than one thing. It’s hardly war."

"So why do it?"

Oliver pursed his lips, "Because it works." Tapping his shoulder, he firmly squeezed and turned around, "Come on, let’s rest. Apparently, some food and wine arrived." Jeremy nodded, taking a final look at the black village, turning and following behind Oliver afterwards.

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