Artemis and Caspian: The Spy

Chapter Forty One

This time when Lord Cerberus woke up, he was bumping along, slung over a soldier's shoulder.

"Where are you taking me?" he snapped, whirling his head around to try and identify his kidnapper. "Put me down now!"

The movement released a pain like no other to ricochet around his skull. That's when the memory of the bandits came back.

"Sorry, my Lord!" The man shouted over his shoulder, "I need to get you as far away from those bandits as I can."

Cerberus watched the world shake up and down like an annoyed toddler as he scanned the treeline whizzing past him backward. "Well, I see nothing."

"Just hang on Lord Cerberus! I'll get you to safety!"

The trees continued to shake, making the Lord dizzy.

"I'm pretty sure they're gone."

"I won't let them get you my Lord!"

"Stop running."

The soldier stopped in his tracks.

"Now, do you hear anything?" The soldier swung wildly back and forth squinting with one free hand over his eyes. Lord Cerberus fought a wave of nausea as he dangled through the air like a ragdoll. Half-wit.

"No, I guess not," the soldier answered, scratching his head.

"Then put. Me. Down."

The soldier nodded enthusiastically and gently placed Cerberus on the ground. The Lord, all ready to scream at the young man instead swayed on his feet then fell back down to earth.

"My Lord are you ok?" The man cried as he went to help Cerberus up.

"Yes I'm fi-'' Grasping the man's forearms, Cerberus searched his worried face. This was not the same man who'd given him the shoes. This was the other soldier in the forest. The medic, the soldier with the shoes, what happened to them?

"Where are-" he trailed off, not sure if he wanted to hear what he already knew to be true.

"Gone Sir," the soldier replied gravely, hoisting the Lord's arm around his shoulder. "Daegal told me to run. He kept the bandits at bay, set fire to some nearby brush. The medic was caught in the middle," The men looked up as a single drop of water from the heavens came down and splashed him, marking his nose. He smiled, "He knew it was going to rain."

A silence consolidated between them as the drop turned into a mist then a drizzle then a rain falling from the sky like it was shedding tears for the dead. Now that he'd stopped moving the Lord could smell the faint, distinctly sharp scent of smoke lingering between the trees. Black smoke curling through the air in the far distance marked their graves as it coiled around a heavy grey blanket of clouds, saturated with gods given water pouring down to stop the small fire before it got out of hand. It made the Lord smile. Smart man, a Guilamontian by nature, who else would be clever enough to predict the weather quick enough to save another the Lord's life? And yet-

Cerberus let himself notice the ache in his useless feet, sinking into the earth. Pearls of water dribbled down his heels trying in vain to wash them from sin. Who would be stupid enough to save his miserable life? A life of a man whose legacy was meant to serve as an example, a symbol of resilient, undying strength. The same weak man who now stood cradling a pair of children's shoes under a vast sky, unable to do anything else. Cerberus couldn't help but smirk as heaven's water soaked his finer features while they thundered out their anger. What a stupidly brave man.

Cerberus looked down and cupped the shoes delicately in his hands. There was one more child with a parent never coming home. He let go of the soldier's shoulder and let his body crash delicately back into the earth. He managed to sit up, despite the pain and rubbed those little suede shoes between his thumb and forefinger until the fabric felt like tearing. More flakes of blood, now almost gone, rubbed off them, tumbling to the ground. So wrapped up in his thoughts, the Lord didn't even notice the small shrapnel caught up on the bottom cutting small divots in the palms of his hands. Each stung and bled. Blood mixed with water as it streaked crimson lines across the skin and onto the forest floor. He was getting wet. He didn't care.

The soldier nervously shielding his eyes against the storm looked for shelter amongst the dark, blurry treeline, feeling his shoes sink deeply into the newly made mud. Spotting a small ledge covering a dry patch of ground a few meters away, he hooked his arms through Cerberus's, not waiting for an answer and dragged the Lord over to it, roughly plopping him back down again.

The soldier was surprised when his Lord didn't protest. It was strange to watch him lie there on his back, undisturbed, turning shoes over in his hands like a meticulous madman. He hadn't even noticed the dampness of his clothes sticking to irritated, cold skin. Huffing and puffing the soldier, too out of breath to really care anymore, placed his hands on his knees and sucked in oxygen. As long as Cerberus wasn't threatening to kill him, he considered it a pretty good day.

"Are you alright my Lord?"

Nothing. The Lord just furrowed his brow, his face twisted in thought. The truth was he hadn't protested being pulled into the shelter because he was too weak to get up. Lying there with his arms over his head playing with a pair of children's shoes was unbearably painful. His being screamed in agony. Every piece of him felt like it was falling apart at the seams, holding on by a stitch ready to snap at every tortuous movement. It was cruel moments like these that made him stop to think about his brother.

Cerberus frowned. Why now was he coming back to torture him? It'd been years since the Lord thought about him, and even longer since he'd seen his face so clearly. Frankly, he'd forgotten what he looked like up until now. No matter how hard he tried, and he had frequently done so, Cerberus couldn't shake the memory of those cold eyes staring at him in Kendra's quarters. What did that damned phantom want from him? He was fulfilling their father's greatest wish, becoming the warlord Guilamount needed, leading their realm into a new age and still his face was lined with disapproval.

Fumbling with the shoes, Cerberus thought on it some more. All this time, the Lord thought whispers from his past were meant as motivation from his stern predecessors to continue the fight. Now, he thought a little differently. Ambition was clouding his judgment. Above all Guilamount was supposed to come first, his people were supposed to come first. His brother's sudden reappearance could be taken as a sign of restraint. For once in the young Lord's selfish life, Cerberus was seriously considering pulling out of the war for their sake. At least temporarily. And those little shoes.

He'd seen hundreds of dead bodies, why was this time any different?

The shoes slipped from the moisture of his hands, a shard on the bottom reopening a deep cut that bled out.

Maybe it was because this time he could remember the face clearly. The face of a father that would never see his little boy again. The face of a father so eager to serve his country that he was willing to leave his family and lay down his life for his Lord, and for what? They were losing the war. The Lord clenched the shoes in his hand and felt thousands of tiny pricks breaking the skin as shards from the battleground embedded themselves deeper in his veins.

How many more would put their heads on the chopping block? How many more would willingly march out into slaughter, gratefully die beneath the weight of a giant steel catapult while their Lord lay useless in a sterile recovery room, barely able to close his eyes long enough to forget the horror tainting the memory of his young life. He squeezed his eyes shut and let a wave of heavy exhaustion crash over his soul, the weight pinning him to the ground. He'd never realized it before, how tired he was. He was tired.

For the first time in his life he was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of feeling his mind slip away from him, tired of pretending everything was going to turn out ok, tired of watching his people die. The apparition of his brother reassured him that the decision he was about to make was the right one. He knew when he was beaten.

"I want to go home."

With his head still hanging between his knees, fighting a wave of nausea, the soldier suddenly snapped his head in the Lord's direction.

"What?"

Cerberus let his arms collapse down to earth, the little shoes rolling out of his hands.

"I want to go home. Please, take me home."

The soldier said nothing. He just picked up his Lord as the man winced in pain, biting down on his tongue to keep from screaming. Then the two stumbled out into the dead of night, homeward bound.