Hope Sundered

Major Burk tried to look confident as he approached Zordecai’s pavilion, but a torrent of fear rushed violently through his mind. He felt like he was marching to his death. He knew he was guilty of nothing, but being summoned by the general was never good, and not appearing wasn’t an option.

It had become quite apparent to the other officers their general was going mad. Some said it was the stress of the ongoing siege, others insisted he’d been struck during the Battle of Chastin, and his health was deteriorating. Regardless, the cracks in his armor of invulnerability were beginning to show.

Upon seeing Burk’s approach, the guard posted outside turned and called into the tent to inform the general of his arrival. The flap was pulled back with little hesitation, allowing him to continue without breaking stride.

Burk swallowed hard, trying to convince himself he had nothing to worry about. He’d been a loyal officer for many years. Everything he did was for the good of the empire. Of course he indulged in the occasional whisper of doubt and concern regarding Zordecai’s mental state, but who didn’t?

It was hard not to after Varzeth had been banished. He’d been one of their most cunning officers, and Zordecai’s jealousy of him was no secret. Many believed it was jeopardizing the campaign and questioning if the general was still fit to command the imperial army.

“Hello Burk,” Zordecai said. His welcoming tone felt out of place. He was wrapped in furs and sitting rather close to his fire. He motioned for the major to join him. Burk bowed and came to sit adjacent to him.

“How may I be of service, my lord?” Burk’s voice trembled more than he would’ve liked, but less than he expected. He considered it a personal victory.

“How well do you know Varzeth?” Zordecai asked, staring hard at him as if to read the man’s thoughts like words on parchment.

“Not well at all, my lord.” The words escaped before he’d chosen them. He could feel his face flush and could only hope it was masked by the warm glow of the fire.

“Don’t lie to me, Burk. You’re both from Toramin, aren’t you?”

Burk had to push his fear aside for a moment to think. “As a matter of fact, yes, my lord. I suppose we are.”

“And weren’t you both conscripted into my army the same year?”

“That…also happens to be correct, my lord.”

“And did you or did you not complete your training together?”

Burk saw where Zordecai was heading with his line of reasoning and had to put an end to it before it went any further. “An unfortunate coincidence, my lord. Nothing more.”

“Hmm. Have you been in contact with Varzeth since I banished him?”

“Absolutely not, my lord!” At least that much was true.

“Before then, did he ever speak of a plan to betray me? Or kill me, perhaps?”

Burk shook his head. “No, my lord! Never!”

“I’ve heard whispers throughout the camp, Burk. Grumbling, complaining, questioning. Do you think Varzeth is behind this dissension? Is he turning my men against me?”

“I’ve heard no such talk, my lord! The men are loyal to you alone! Even if Varzeth is attempting to undermine you, he’ll not succeed!”

Zordecai studied his subordinate for a moment. “Who do you think would be most susceptible to his treacherous influence? Certainly not you, of course. But what of my other officers? Or my Kuronah, perhaps?”

Burk feared his heart would rupture and kill him before Zordecai got the chance. His mouth was painfully dry. “None of your officers would ever betray you, my lord! And certainly not the Kuronah!” His voice sounded so small in his own ears, so weak. Completely devoid of conviction.

Zordecai nodded, pleased. “That’s very reassuring, Burk. You have my thanks. You may go.”

Burk rose to his feet, taking his time in order to hide his profound desire to flee. Zordecai stood as well. At the last second before turning to leave, Burk remembered protocol and bowed low. “As always, it’s an honor to serve you, my lord.”

Before Burk could react, Zordecai’s hand clamped down around his neck. The general cast off his furs and leaned in close, whispering in the panicked officer’s ear. “You’re a terrible liar, Burk, and I don’t tolerate liars. Or traitors.”

He shoved Burk headlong into the fire pit with a powerful thrust, then planted a heavy boot on his back, pinning him down. Zordecai watched with perverse pleasure as his officer thrashed in wild agony.

Burk’s screams were horrific at first but they soon died away, as did his resistance; his body jerked one last time and became still. By now his uniform had caught fire, and Zordecai stepped away to let the flames consume their feast.

⸞ ⸎ ⸟

“If only it had been you, Varzeth,” Zordecai lamented aloud. His Kuronah were missing, and his officers were lying to his face. There was now one less traitor lurking in his midst, but in an army of thousands, how many others could there be?