Artemis and Caspian: The Spy

Chapter Thirty Seven

"By the gods, finish that sentence at your own peril," Lord Cerberus seethed as his grip around the general's arm tightened. Dagaric ripped it out of his grasp, rubbing the soft spot of skin that began to burn from his touch. Too weak to chase after him, Cerberus let his hand fall back down to earth, breathing heavily. The ceiling of the infirmary tent was hard to focus on. Lines of rods holding up the canvas tarp slithered together like snakes, hissing at him like little hallucinations baring wooden fangs.

Coming to had been a nightmare, the Lord still wasn't sure if he was fully awake. Mixed with the sounds of soldiers talking and supplies clanging together were the sounds of children crying, people whispering, his father sharpening an axe, muttering to himself with words he couldn't understand. Then there was him. His brother, standing in the corner of every room like a phantom, staring at him with wild eyes flashing with the sins of the past. Where had he gone all those years ago?

Trying his best to sit up, Lord Cerberus stifled a groan as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"My Lord you need to-"

Cerberus cut the medic off with a raise of his hand. Listening again, the Lord found something much more unsettling. Behind the backdrop of the infirmary alive with people buzzing about, speaking in low tones and tending to wounds was an eerie silence. Too silent. Beyond these thin canvas walls, the camp seemed abandoned. He knew his army was discreet and disciplined but this was too quiet. No one could be that good.

"Where are my soldiers?"

The silence that followed from those occupying the infirmary confirmed what the Lord had already been thinking. The only thing he could hear was a rogue cough from a man a few feet away who tried his best to cover the noise with a forearm placed strategically over his mouth. You could hear a pin drop for five miles. Cerberus smiled, he was going to enjoy this.

"I won't ask again, where are my soldiers?"

Dagaric cleared his throat and gazed down at the dirt floor, crossing one foot over the other like a little boy caught red-handed.

"Gone Sir." The infirmary flinched when their Lord let out a laugh that carried sickly through the air like nails against metal.

"Unless they're all dead, you better have a damn good explanation for this," the Lord of Guilamount snickered, baiting the general to walk into his trap. After losing to Kendra and surviving a coma, he welcomed the warm fuzzy feeling that spread across his body when he thought of ways to torture the accused responsible for dismissing his entire army. It was the best damn thing to happen to him in weeks. Dagaric dared to look up. He knew what he was walking into but finding a way out would be futile. One way or another, Cerberus would hunt him down even in his slightly altered state of sanity.

"My Lord," he began slowly, taking a deep breath he was sure would be his last, "When you wouldn't wake up, I decided to surrender. The camp was exhausted, Heliatra had just finished making their adjustments to the catapults, their aim got dangerously close to camp. I was weak, I didn't know what to do. I figured it would be easier to pull out, regroup and reassess."

The grin that spread across Cerberus's lips made Dagaric's stomach churn.

"I'm going to-"

"Please," a young soldier said suddenly from across the room, trying her best to stand with an injured side, leaning heavily on another medic as she limped over. His glee turning to anger, the Lord snapped his head at the woman, eyes filled with the fury of all the gods. The woman shrunk back, regretting her life decisions but stood firm, fighting every instinct that told her to turn tail and run for her life. "My Lord, he made the right decision. We're tired, we're homesick. The Calatan army is too strong."