Moral Stand (Aether’s Revival Book 7)

Gregory was glad that foresight didn’t reveal any problems for the day. Lapsing into meditation, he had his aether reproduce a copy of the ambush. Watching the fight play out, he was sure it was a compilation of his foresight, his own experiences, and the reports from his men— he wasn’t sure if the reenactment was completely accurate, but it let him have a better overview of how things went.

When fourth bell chimed, Gregory got up and stretched. Stepping out of his room, he found the others coming out of theirs. “Today, we’re having the farewell for our fallen,” Gregory said softly. “I’ve been told it’ll be an all-day affair.”

“I handled the preparations when you were going over the documents last night, sir,” Davis said. “From breakfast to after-dinner, we’ll be celebrating our lost.”

“We’ll be helping with the food and drinks,” Basal said. “Barny asked us last night.”

“I will be keeping a record if that is okay, Davis?” Rafiq asked as they all walked toward the stairs. “Broad strokes only; not individual comments.”

“I don’t mind. I think the men would support it, too. Knowing that their friends are going to be recorded in the academy archive might help.”

“Approved,” Gregory nodded.

“You were out late,” Davis said when they started downstairs. “Did any of the surrendered documents help?”

“Phineas Chainer is done. He just doesn’t know it yet,” Gregory said. “His son, Charl, will be joining him. The documents clearly show the pair conspired with Rupert to try killing me. Phineas even admits to the first assassination attempt in one of the missives.”

“Do you think the family there will do what the one here did?”

“Rustin thinks his cousin, Tinessa, will be willing to do something similar. We’ll have to see when we get there… or at least the day before we get there,” Gregory said with a faint twitch of his lips.

“We’ll be ready to assist again, sir.”

“We’ll be staying here tomorrow for the men to get more comfortable recovery time in,” Gregory said, giving Glasson a nod as they passed where the men were getting ready for the day. Glasson gave him a solemn nod back before turning to watch the men again.

“Might be for the best. Even then, we might be best served to leave the severely wounded here to recover longer,” Davis added. “It would leave us down two squads in total between them and the fallen, but it would be better than dragging them with us.”

“We’ll speak to the wounded and the sergeants today. I don’t want them thinking they’re a burden and are being left because of that.”

“Fair point. I’ll make sure to talk to each of them.”

Barny, Polka, and Dot were in the kitchen, getting breakfast ready, so Basal and Hanz hurried to help them. Gregory slowed down, letting the boys get ahead of him. He’d heard a cry of fear last night from Basal’s room; he’d barely made it to his feet when he heard Rafiq knocking on the boy’s door to help him. Gregory was sure it was nightmares because of what he’d had to do. He wanted to help the young man, but Basal had turned to Rafiq for help, so Gregory accepted it.

Probably because I’m his commanding officer. He doesn’t want to show weakness, even though I’ve told him it’s okay, Gregory thought. I can ask Rafiq later tonight…

“Helping with those now will make getting the rest of the meals ready much easier,” Barny explained as he checked the pot in front of him. “It’ll be a big help later today. Breakfast is almost ready. You’d have had to have been up over an hour ago to help with it.”

“If we’d known that, we would’ve tried,” Hanz said.

“That would’ve made you sleepy all day,” Polka giggled, patting his back when she went by him. “It’s fine.”

Basal and Hanz were off to the side, cutting vegetables. Polka and Dot were getting biscuits onto platters, glancing back at the boys to make sure they were okay. Barny was working on what smelled like gravy while a stack of cooked sausages sat on platters near him.

“Good morning,” Gregory greeted them. “It smells delicious. I think this might’ve taken you more than just an hour to prepare.”

“I’ve been up for a few hours,” Barny admitted. “I’ll take a nap after breakfast, then come back to prepare the afternoon meal. Today’s a special day… it’s sad and sorrowful, but still special. I felt that something different than normal would help for today.”

“Thank you, Barny. You both, as well, Dot, Polka. There will be tears and laughter, I’m sure— stories of the men we no longer have with us, dice games, and maybe even a few sparring sessions. Davis told me a few of the men have instruments with them, so we’ll have music, too.”

“A big day to send the fallen off…” Dot whispered sadly, “all because we took a stand on slavery.”

“Once we get back to Coldwood, the last of it will end for us this year,” Gregory said. He quickly checked with aether sight to see if anyone was listening to them before adding, “I will offer to you again what I offered when Thera left.”

All three full-blooded eurtiks turned to him, bowing.

“No, sir. We will stay,” Polka said.

“I’m not ever leaving, sir,” Barny added.

“I’ll not willingly leave my protector, Gregory,” Dot said, her eyes going to a blushing Basal. “I look forward to Krogga and his age day so I can show him my love.”

Basal’s blush turned crimson as he looked down at the table. “I do, too.”

Hanz smiled at his embarrassed friend. “Don’t cut your fingers.”

Basal set his knife down for a moment, his hands unsteady. “Good point.”

“Very well,” Gregory said. “I can only offer it to you this close to the border so you could get away. If, in the future, you change your minds, I’ll do my best to help. I won’t bring this topic up again, but if you do, please be oblique about it in case someone is listening.”

The trio of eurtik agreed that they would do so.

~*~*~

Breakfast was delicious, and the men loved it. The reason for the special meal took some of their enjoyment away, but their spirits were as high as they could be. When they were all finished, Gregory stood up and the room went silent.

“Men, today, we mourn the loss of friends, comrades, and family. All of today is a celebration of their lives and sacrifice. Share the good times, lament the loss, and laugh over the stories that will bring tears, both good and bad. Barny has promised special meals all day as his way of thanking them for their duty. Like the breakfast we just had, it’ll be bittersweet, reminding us of the loss we all share today.”

Gregory had to pause as a few of the men sniffled, and he had to wipe his own eyes.

“The drinks will flow, so toast to them. They held to their honor and duty until the end, just as we all might before we lay down for our last slumber in Mortum’s embrace. I raise this toast to our fallen; Freddy Slimmer, Travit Arnson, and Sergeant Howard Donald. May they rest peacefully, knowing that their sacrifice will never be forgotten by those who stood with them on that road.”

Cups rose all around the room, and the toast was silent as men drank deeply, thinking of their dead friends.

Gregory didn’t sit. He waited for their cups to lower before he spoke on, “Our job isn’t done yet. When we march back to Coldwood, it will be with the intent to remove the other leader of the attack on us. Commander Roberts will be with us when we pull Phineas Chainer from his manor to answer for the crimes he committed.”

Angry words were spat at the man’s name, so Gregory paused.

“We took a stand— a moral stand— to do what we could while on this posting. Now, we’ve paid a dear price for doing so. I will never cheapen the memory of our friends by questioning if it was the right thing to do. They believed as you do, as I do, that we did the just and right thing. Drink in their memory today, tell their stories, gamble with your friends, and feast on the food. Today is a day of thanking them for being with us, but also a nod that if another of us falls, they’ll be equally remembered and praised.” He raised his mug again. “Slimmer, Arnson, Donald, pave the way for us, for one day we will be with you once more, ready to stand shoulder to shoulder with you again. Honor! Duty! Death!”

The last three words were said forcibly past tears, but they were shouted back by every man with their mug raised.

~*~*~

Gregory sat in the chair in his room. The sun had set long ago; his men had barely made it back to their barracks a scant quarter-hour ago. He’d made sure that everyone knew breakfast would be at sixth bell tomorrow, ensuring the men could get the sleep they’d need after drinking so heavily.

Memories of the day came back to him, along with the stories from the men each man had served with. Donald’s squad praised him while the other sergeants told funny stories from over the last two years. Gregory fought a few of the men blindfolded, using a wakizashi with and without foresight, to help bring laughter when the sadness climbed high after midday.

When the knock came on his door, he stood, going to answer it. “Come in, Rafiq. I was going to talk with you, but it was driven from my mind earlier.”

“Thank you, Greg,” Rafiq said, taking a seat at the table. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Much like everyone else,” Gregory sighed. “I wanted to thank you for helping Basal last night.”

“No need. He just needs time. The memories will fade. I will continue speaking with him and Hanz.”

“The thanks was because you’re helping them. I take it they don’t feel comfortable talking with me about it?”

“Weakness, as they see it. I’ve told them differently, but they see you standing strong and don’t want to look lesser in your eyes. I was going to ask if I can explain to them how we talk?”

“Yes, please. They don’t need to hold back from me. I don’t want to push them, either… it’s left me in an awkward spot of wanting to help, but not wanting to force them.”

“I figured. I thought I felt your resonance when Basal cried out.”

“Yes. I felt and heard you were already there, so I stayed back.”

“Which was good for that moment. I will speak with them, and maybe in time, one or both will come to you directly.”

“I’ll be here if they do, but I also understand if they don’t.”

“Very well. Now, Greg, my friend, tell me the truth about how you are doing.”

Gregory snorted, closing his eyes as he slumped in his seat. “Terrible. I can understand Lighthand’s journals more than I ever wanted to. I… I was wondering…” He paused to take a deep breath. “Lighthand spoke of etching the names of his fallen into his cavern. Do you know how?”

“Pure force of will. But in the cavern, it would come as taking the tools and carving them there yourself. There is good and bad in doing that, Greg. You’ll never completely set down the burden you feel today if you do. I’d suggest you think over what your future might be and deeply consider having so many names etched into your spirit. If you are on the mind path, you will never forget them, so you do not need to burden your soul with them, too.”

“Burden my soul…?” Gregory murmured, Rafiq’s words bringing another much later snippet of Lighthand’s journal to mind. “Oh, right… Hmm… I’ll meditate on it.”

“That is all I would ask. I am going to rest for a bit, but will likely use my aether to be refreshed tomorrow. Sleep well.”

“You, too,” Gregory said, walking Rafiq to the door before he got ready for bed.