Champion Revised: A Songs of War Novel

Chapter 3

The next day, Thalleous sat in his temporary quarters, thinking on the events of the last forty-eight hours. He pondered the brutal assault at the arena and what the ramifications might be of the attack. In particular, he wondered what would happen to the Prime Songs. The Tournament's victor obviously could not wield them, so who would?

The lieutenant stood up, pacing around the room's spruce wood floor. He looked on his shelf, seeing if the room's previous occupant had seen fit to put anything useful on it. Nothing. A few combat lesson collections and fictional stories: things for a more frivolous time.

Then, out of nowhere, the faces of Thalleous' deceased men went through his mind like clockwork. Purely by some chance, he remembered them at that exact moment: their quirks, their personalities, their smiles. They were dead, fallen that would not stand, and he could not save them or bring them back. He stared at the door, hoping against hope that he could reverse what the Voltaris had done, trying to think of some way to fix this.

Just then, the door swung open. Osivian stood at it. His usual half-grin was gone: in its place was cold vigilance.

"Sarrettus would like to speak with you and your platoon," drawled the younger lieutenant. "He's in the lobby."

Thalleous nodded slowly. "I shall be there."

Osivian put his hand to his head, then to his heart, a standard Militia sign. Thalleous returned it, then stepped out.

"Ghost Batallion, Alpha Platoon!" Thalleous called, rapping on the doors of his men sharply.

"Yes, sir?" asked one of Thalleous' sergeants.

"We are summoned by Captain Sarrettus."

"Aye, sir!" yelled the sergeant. "My squad, up and ready, now!'

Thalleous continued hammering on doors. He only had two thirds of his platoon out. There was no response from over half a dozen doors. What was going on with his men?

"Platoon, let's move! We have business!"

 Suddenly, one soldier called out to him.

"Sir!"

Thalleous turned around to face the young corporal. "Yes, Donemus?"
"There's none of us left, sir," said the corporal grimly. "Twenty-two rooms are ours, but we only used fifteen."

The realization dawned on the lieutenant: he had grown so used to having a full unit. It felt wrong otherwise. He had been summoning dead troops out of habit. He bowed his head, and suddenly it became clear, crystal clear, that he would never see those men again. He sank to his knees, having to lean against the wall. His men ran forward to aid him.

"Sir, are you alright?" Donemus asked.

The lieutenant looked up, seeing the corporal. The young soldier looked worried, having never seen his superior officer look this fretted.. The commander slowly stood up, looking around. "Aye," sighed Thalleous hoarsely, a single tear dropping down his face. "Get to the lobby."

The platoon made way for their commander as he stepped forward, leading them to the summons. They wrapped their way around stone corridors and cavernous halls, double-timing down flights of stairs. Thalleous opened a door and saw Sarrettus waiting for them.

"Good, you're all here," Sarrettus muttered distractedly. The captain allowed them through. As Thalleous walked, he saw the seven prisoners lined up and chained by the wrists and ankles. He caught the eye of Ingressus, who held his head high and smiled.

Thalleous gritted his teeth and waited for Sarrettus' orders.

"You all will be handling the guard duty for their tribunal. These-" he pointed to the Voltaris, "will be tried at a Song shrine a short distance from here. The masters are waiting for you."