Ch. 7

That night they made camp next to a small creek. The men insisted that Jake and Rose take the late Captain's tent which was much more spacious than any other two combined. Jake sat out in front staring at the fire eating a plate of beans and meat. He didn't know what kind of meat it was, and was certainly not going to ask since it tasted fine. Someone had managed to scrounge up some apple brandy, a popular drink amongst the mildly wealthy in these parts, and Jake was enjoying some of that along with his meat. He would have rather had a beer or whiskey, but he wasn't going to be picky at this point.

He was so focused on his eating and drinking he didn't even notice when Rose came and sat next to him.

"Are you alright?' She asked startling him, 'You've been oddly quiet since we stopped."

"Yeah,' He lied, 'Just a lot on my mind. The soldiers, you know? And trying to figure out what to do and shit."

He knew that all that wasn't really an answer, but it was the best he could come up with on short notice. He also didn't like to lie to Rose so he quickly changed the subject. "Are the men taking my advice?"

Rose sighed, it was clear she didn't believe he was fine, but she knew not to press him too hard about it. "Yes they are' She said halfheartedly, 'It's amazing that none of them had thought to put the latrines downstream before. And everyone seems to really like the idea of a meal line instead of just fending for themselves. The only complaint is Jajod's cooking. But he's the only one who volunteered to make food for fifty plus people so they'll just have to deal with it. Oh, and some of the guards are saying some of the soldiers are stealing and the soldiers are saying the same thing about the guards. But other than that, everything is good."

Bad food? Fighting in the ranks? These were complaints Jake had heard a thousand times before. It was part of the reason he was in the funk he was in, it reminded him too much of the past. He needed to get out. If he heard one more thing that reminded him of before he thought he might just pass out.

"Sir Jake!' Some young guard yelled as he ran towards the couple his face twisted in a look of terror and disgust, 'A bunch of guys want me to tell you they might need to go home. They all got a case of the…Drippy Spigots."

"Fuck!" He screamed jumping up and throwing the rest of his food in the fire. He started to storm off still yelling, "Fuck this shit! I can't do it anymore!"

He kept yelling, swearing and walking away until he realized he was at the edge of the creek. With only a moment's thought, he stabbed his sword into the soft dirt and began to undress to swim across. He couldn't quite get a shoulder strap untied and that gave Rose enough time to catch up to him.

"What was that all about?" She asked in gentle tones like one would to a wild dog or spooked horse.

Jake didn't know how he could possibly explain what was bothering him to her. He almost felt like he had a hard time explaining it to himself. "I. just. Can't. do. It. Anymore." He refused to let himself show any more emotion making that the hardest sentence he had ever said.

Rose wasn't done pushing this time. Very sternly, she said, "You need to talk to me. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on."

Jake felt his chest tighten, it was becoming difficult for him to breath. Part of him wanted to tell Rose everything, but he knew she would never understand. The other part of him, the part that wanted to keep repressed things repressed won out and he made up a quick lie on the spot, "I…just don't trust them. I'm not sure they won't turn on us as soon as we're in sight of the castle."

"Jake… I know that's not true. Please come back with me." She reached out to him.

Jake pulled back as if she were made of fire. "No, don't do that! Don't make me love you. Everything I love dies. I can't have that happen again. Get back to camp and mind your own fucking businesses!" The last part was directed at a couple of nosy soldiers who had decided to see what all the commotion was about.

After looking to see if they were gone, Rose turned back and asked, "Do you love me?"

Jake didn't mean to say what he said earlier, but it was out there now so he had to fess up, "Of fucking course I do." Be it in his own unique way.

That didn't matter to Rose. Without warning, she threw her arms around his neck, kissed him and said, "I love you too, you big idiot."

Jake broke away, took a step back and said, "And that's the problem. Everyone I care about dies. I can never stay happy for long. I used to be one of them.' indicating the soldiers, 'It was the best time of my life and that shit was taken away from me in an instant. Then I met Taylor and, while he was a bit of a goober, he was my bud, and you saw what fucking happened to him. I can't lose anyone else."

Rose obviously knew about Taylor, but she had no idea Jake had lost so many others. She thought back to her own loss, admittedly, less severe and came to a realization. "You have never allowed yourself to grieve."

Jake was staring at the ground but picked his head up at that, "Huh?" He asked.

"Taylor was killed and we haven't had a moment to relax since. You have not had to opportunity to mourn the loss of your friend properly. Come with me."

Jake was skeptical. He was well aware that death was a part of life having seen and caused so much of it over his nearly thirty years of life, but he was ready to attempt to get his mind right. "I don't think that's it, but we can try something I suppose."

The two walked hand in hand back to camp where all the men were waiting to see if their unofficial leader would be returning. Many breathed a sigh of relief when they saw Jake come back willingly. More than a few gold pieces exchanged hands quickly. Jake saw it, but didn't mind, he would have done the same thing.

"I'm back, fuckers,' he said addressing his men as he used to be addressed, 'if anybody has anything to say, do it now. 'Cause after tonight we're not talking about it again."

For a little while no one said anything and Jake was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when Jajod the cook spoke up, "Uh…Sthir Jake? Sthome of usth happened to overhear…,' his accent put him from the far south if not from just over the border into the country of Ohasind and his tone of voice said "happened to overhear" meant "was clearly eavesdropping" 'Ye ne'er tooked de time to git o'er yersth friend dying."

"What are you trying to say?" Jake almost added 'literally, I can't understand a word you're saying,' but the man was trying to help, he thought.

"In my country, we hasth a ctheremony to honor the recthently departhed. Everyone gathersth in a cthircle and tellsth how they met and how they met and how they lostht the persthon they're griepfting. It promotesth brotherhood and beginsth the healing procthessth."

Once again, Jake wished real life had subtitles, but he got the gist of what Jajod was saying, probably. He decided to translate for those that were struggling, "He's saying we should gather around and tell how we met our buddies and how they died. It will make us friends and help us feel better…supposedly." Jake couldn't hide his cynicism, but there were enough 'ahs' and 'let's try its' to give it a go.

A large bon fire was built and the men formed a loose circle around it. For one of the first times in his life, Jake did not want to be the first to speak. Luckily, he didn't have to. A guard named Hersh stepped up and removed his hat. The tale he told was a sad one that involved his abusive father, his best friend and neighbor, and a failed plan to sneak him, his mother, and sister out in the middle of the night. All of which resulted in his friend sacrificing himself to keep his father distracted long enough him to escape. They were only ten.

Jake knew there might be tears that night, but he didn't expect the waterworks so soon. While his eyes were merely misty, others were openly crying and Rose had to excuse herself. A soldier came up to hug Hersh and Jake thought that maybe this wasn't al nonsense after all.

The next story lightened the mood some. A soldier told about how his friend met his demise trying to "fornicate with a sleeping Minotaur" but he didn't realize it was a male Minotaur until it was too late. The tears after that story were tears of laughter. That's how it seemed to go for the next few hours. Some stories were sad, some were funny, but all ended with hugs or laughs. One story stood out to Jake for reasons no one else would ever understand.

A guard not much younger than Jake and wearing all black armor stood in front of the fire and spoke in a deep gravelly voice that didn't quite match his age and medium frame.


Despite my present appearance, I grew up in a wealthy family. We lived in a large manor just on the outskirts of Castle City. When I was eight years old my parents and I went to a show in town at the theater one night. I don't remember the name of the play, but I know at one point the room got very dark, the music got loud and the actors changed into scary costumes. I don't know what to say. I was eight, I got frightened. I told my parents I wanted to leave. They seemed upset, but we all got up to go.

We were waiting in alley for our manservant, Mikhail, to bring the carriage around when it happened. I'll never forget the look of shock on my mother's face when that fiend stepped out of the shadows and slit my father's throat for no reason. He was dead before his pipe hit the ground. My mother soon followed. With one smooth motion, the man spun and stabbed her right in the heart. It was only by pure luck that Mikhail happened to ride by right at that moment. He grabbed me and rode away as fast as the horses would go before the killer could get me too. I only caught quick looks of the man who took my parents: a flash of pure white skin as he killed my father, a glimpse of bright green hair as he murdered my mother. And the laugh…I'll never forget the high pitched laugh as long as I live. It was like it was all one big joke to him.

My father was a good man. Some said he was a two-faced scoundrel, but I never saw it. All I knew was the man that would pretend to be a penguin just to make me laugh. And he told the best riddles too. My mother was a saint. She was constantly helping the less fortunate with her skills as the king's alchemist. She would make perfumes for those crazy cat-women, you know the ones who have like thirty cats, to cover up the smell. And she made this great anti-itch ointment for people that had fallen into poison ivy. My favorite memory of them was running around the woods catching fireflies with them. They were the best.

It was after that I decided to become a guard. I gave up my family's money and dedicated my life to making sure that, even if I couldn't personally catch the bane of my existence, I could make sure other blights stay locked up.


Upon completion of his story, Jake stood up and applauded. Despite his recent incarceration, he had always had he upmost respect for the people who chose to keep the monsters in their cages. Plus the as of yet unnamed guard reminded him of his favorite superhero and that made Jake very happy.

Then something in what he said clicked in his head and he knew he needed to talk to him about it. But everyone was waiting on him to take his turn. He was the last to go, even Rose told about how she lost her beloved pet cat when he choked on a mouse shaped turnip. It wasn't the most heartbreaking story in the world, but it was hers so he had to be sympathetic.

Jake knew everyone was expecting him to have some epic yarn about how he and Taylor met. And any other time, he'd flush out the details, but at the moment, he wanted to really needed to speak to Arlo. So, for the first time, he kept it brief.


I don't have a lot to tell. I had been a knight for a few years and had recently gotten my ass handed to me by Madam Fing. I can tell by the shudders a few of you know who she is so you know. I was in the Drunken Ram in Crokiel doing what you do at a place called the Drunken Ram. When none other than Miss Rose over there, although she looked and sounded a bit different then, says to me, "Shit son, why you so down in the dumps?"

You did too! That is exactly what you sounded like back then. Don't interrupt. So I say, "I'm bummed 'cause I've just been picked on for the first time…ever."

And she says, "You really should try to be nicer to people. Like that nice squire boy Taylor. He's nice to everybody. You should talk to him and find out why he's so nice."

I think to myself he's only nice because he's a bit of a weirdo, but I took her advice. He was a little strange, but in a likable way. He talked funny, but so do I, although in completely different fashions. We were complete opposites in almost every way imaginable. But I couldn't help becoming fond of the goodhearted lad. I took him on as my squire and over the next couple years we journeyed all around the country going on adventures until a few days ago when he took a crossbow bolt to the face by castle guards coming after me. I know you guys were lied to so I don't blame you. I blame myself. It's my fault someone wanted me framed and dead. It's my fault he was a casualty of that. I hate myself for what happened and- Wait! come back!


The black-wearing guard was heading towards his tent when Jake called him back. "We have one tradition where I'm from that I think pertains to this particular ceremony. If everybody could raise a glass."

Jake held his drink in the air, took a sip then said, "One for me,' he then poured some on the ground, 'and one for the homies that ain't with us no more."

Everyone in the group followed suit and soon the ground was saturated with alcohol. Jajod's ceremony and Jake's toast seemed to have the desired effect of bringing everyone closer together.

Jake jogged up to the man in black and said, "That was quite the story. What's your name?"

The man jumped when Jake spoke to him. He clearly didn't like being surprised. That was a quality Jake could respect. "Wayne' he said in his growl, 'Wayne Bateman. What's it to you?"

Jake could hardly contain his excitement at how perfect that name was with the voice and the back story. He was certain he was starting to develop a man-crush, but he had to keep it professional. "Something in your tale intrigued me,' he said trying to sound boss-like for one of the first times in his life, 'you said your mother was the king's alchemist before she was killed?"

"Yes. And?" Bateman's salty demeanor was nearly palpable and Jake loved it.

"And I'm wondering if it's possible that she knew Geoffery Marthis, the king's apothecary?"

Bateman thought for a moment then said, "I'm not quite sure. The name seems familiar and not just because you've been talking about him."

That wasn't the answer Jake was hoping for. He had a theory, but he needed more information. And Bateman was the one he thought might have the answers. "Please, I need you to think back,' He pleaded, 'I know you were young, but I'd like for you to try. Anything you remember could be important."

Bateman scowled. All he wanted to do was go to bed. He wasn't a creature of the night after all. But something in Jake's voice convinced him to give it a shot. "Fine,' He acquiesced, 'Let me think…Oh I do remember something. I remember my mother telling my father that she feared that Marthis was going to try to get her expulsed from her position in the castle. She claimed it was because he wanted to have his lady friend put in her place."

That may have been the key to unlocking part one of the mystery. Feeling hopeful, Jake said, "So your family did have a connection to him. Who got your mom's job after she died? "

A look of horrified realization crossed Bateman's face. The answer to his parent's murder had been right there and he had never put the pieces together. "The lady friend of Geoffrey Marthis, dammed if I recall her name, was appointed head alchemist upon my mother's untimely demise.' His knees became weak and he had to sit, 'all these years…I've been protecting my parents' killers. If I'd only known…"

Jake put a hand on his shoulder and said, "You couldn't have known. Dickholes like these, they keep that shit hidden really well. You can't blame yourself. What you can do is join up with Rose and I. We could use an extra set of trusted eyes watching our backs and I can't think of someone better than someone who's been fucked over just as much as I have."

Rose had stayed close enough to the conversation to listen in, some might call it eavesdropping, but chose that moment to finally speak up, "I agree. I didn't mean to overhear-"

Jake coughed "bullshit" before allowing her to continue.

"I didn't mean to overhear, but it does sound like you would be a valuable asset to our core group. I know Jake has reservations about sticking with the larger army and we may or may not be breaking off at some point just so you know." Jake shot her a dirty look. He wasn't ready for Bateman to know that yet. The younger man might not respond well to that and he needed more people he could trust on his side. But the look turned out to be all for naught when Bateman said, "I'm in! I want to get back at those sons of curs more than anything.' He dropped his coarse voice to a whisper, 'and between you and me, I don't think these guys like me that much."

Jake kept his voice low too, "Yeah, fuck those guys. Here's my plan so far…"

As Jake spoke, Bateman became more and more confident that they could pull off their little operation. When Jake finished Bateman asked, "Do you really think we can pull all that off?"

Jake looked between his two conspirators and said, "Of course, there's always room for winging it. Now let's get some sleep. We'll break the news to the group in the morning and instigate phase one of the plan. Ready? Break!"

The trio separated with Bateman going into his tent and Jake and Rose returning to theirs. As soon as the flap shut behind them Rose spun Jake around and said, "Alright, now tell me the real plan. The one that doesn't involve a suicide mission."

Jake was taken affront. "Ye of little faith. You should know by now, when I say I can do something, I can totally probably do it."

Rose gave him a doubting look.

"What?' He asked before she could say anything, 'I mean if I keep the improvisation to a minimum and everything else goes exactly right. And if there's absolutely no surprises then this definitely has a shot at maybe working kinda."

Rose could only shake her head. "You aren't very good at inspiring confidence." She said dejectedly.

Jake looked at her and said, "If you want to sit this one out I wouldn't blame you. I think me and Bateman can probably manage. And I might feel better if I knew you were safe."

Rose gave him a playful shove and said, "Don't think you can get rid of me that easily. Someone has to make sure you don't go and get yourself killed. And besides, I came up with the name of the plan. You can't do Operation Super-Mega Murder-Revenge without me."

"I couldn't say it in front of Bateman, but I couldn't love you more for coming up with such a fucking kick-ass title."

"I thought you might like that,' She laughed then yawned, 'we should probably get some sleep."

Jake yawned too. He was hoping to maybe get a little bedtime action before sleep, but it was clear that wasn't going to happen. They got in bed and Rose was asleep in minutes. Jake had a much harder time drifting off. The sounds of an army camp at night took him back and he didn't like it. Snores, grunts, moans, farts, to the untrained ear, background noise, to Jake, a cacophony of nostalgic horror. Finally, he began to snore himself drowning out the other sounds.

Jake walked over barren, scorched earth. He didn't know where he was or where he was going, but he knew he needed to keep moving if he had any hope of finding out. Dried, brittle tree branches swayed in the warm breeze. A dust storm began to kick up and he had to lower his head to push through. When the storm settled, he stopped and dusted himself off. When he got to his legs he made a startling discovery: He was standing in a field of skeletons. Row after row of empty eye sockets stared up at him. Hundreds of arms pointed accusatory burnt black fingers at him. One pristine skeleton in the pile of ash and dirt began to quiver and Jake did too. Slowly, the bones began to rise until it was standing fully erect. Even without eyes, Jake could tell it could see right into his soul. The mouth opened and the voice of an old friend came out, "Tell her, Jake."

Jake bolted upright in bed. "Sweet monkey fucking Jesus," He said trying to catch his breath from his scare.

Rose was startled out of her sleep by Jake being startled and asked, "Jake, what is it? Are you alright?"

Jake's heart rate was coming back down so he said, "Yes, just another nightmare."

"What was this one about?" Rose asked with genuine concern.

Jake still wasn't ready to tell the truth so he said, "Didn't you hear me? It was a guy I know named Jesus fucking a monkey. Pretty goddamned disturbing."

There was no way Rose believed him, but she knew he wouldn't say more so she merely rolled over and went back to sleep. Jake waited until she was breathing heavy then snuck out of the tent.