The Book of Terrus: A Land of Sunlight

Chapter 9 - Lash and Loyalty

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Each step closer to Trosk brought Tarun no closer to a decision about the quandary he now found himself in. On one hand, Jerriod's offer; do what a 'good soldier' would and report any potential defectors...even if it meant betraying his own people for a chance at The Academy. On the other, Elowen's offer. The more Tarun thought about the beautiful, green-bound book safely hidden in his pack, the more he wanted to earn it. Still, as much as he didn't want to turn in any defectors from amongst the Men of Trosk, the threat of Jerriod's wrath against himself and others was a very real worry.

Thankfully, Tarun was saved from having to decide too quickly on a course of action. Even as they rounded the last turn in The Old Mountain Road before it opened out onto the eastern side of Goran, Tarun had heard nothing so loud as even a whisper about plans for escape. Either his own kin and neighbours (perhaps wisely) did not trust Tarun enough to pass such plans down the column of marching soldiers to him, or nobody had dared to give voice to desertion. Either way, Tarun knew they must all be feeling the draw toward home. If he, with a potential future to gain at The Academy, could still feel a pang of longing as the stones of The Teeth began to look familiar, undoubtedly men like Andris and Joar would be feeling the same ten-fold.

When the Fourth Company made camp for the night, it was on the eastern side of The Teeth. The sun setting behind the mountains cast a familiar glow across the rocky juts of the foothills around them, edging the vivid blue of oncoming night with a fringe of golden pink. Everyone in Trosk was seeing the same sunset, Tarun realized, and his gaze was pulled unwilling toward the north. The signpost for Trosk wasn't far along the Running Road from where they stood. A sure-footed mountain man could likely make the trek from here to home in less than a night, Tarun wagered. If he were to just strike out now, he could be walking through the door and seeing Lhara's look of shock and delight by sunup. Of course, in all likelihood that would also mean seeing Trosk burn before sundown tomorrow. No, Tarun decided, without realizing that he'd even been giving it real consideration. If anyone were going to make a break for home tonight, it would not be him.

The tension around camp was palpable that evening though. The lowland soldiers watched the Men of Trosk warily, seemingly aware of the unspoken fantasies of desertion that their newest comrades were entertaining. Even Princess Ellorae's ladies seemed to sense the tightness in the air. The women's' talk amongst themselves over dinner was quieter than usual, and the princess recalled them all to her pavilion long before the moon rose. As for the Men of Trosk themselves, they kept together and silent, chewing their rabbit stew and dried bread without really tasting it. Still nobody so much as dared to speak of Trosk, but the telltale flicker of eyes toward the mountainside spoke volumes. Even Garrit seemed subdued, as much as he had ever been since they first left Trosk. The memories of The Giant's Shoe on fire and bloodied earth burned high and bright behind unblinking eyes.

Tarun was not on the first nightwatch, and for that he was only too grateful. He could feel eyes on him though as he made for the little two-man tent which he shared with Garrit. When he looked up, Jerriod only nodded before turning to speak to the first watchman. Tarun laid down on his sleeping palet with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Garrit was already inside, lying wide awake on his back staring up at the tent stick overhead. The gathering dusk made it hard to read the expression on his cousin's face, but Tarun imagined it must have been troubled like his own. He was just about to close his eyes and try to get some rest before second watch when Garrit spoke just above a whisper.

"Are you going to try to escape, Tarun?"

"...No. Are you?"

There was a soft rustle in the dark as Garrit turned his face toward Tarun. "I want to," he admitted. "But I don't dare. So long as home is still there, safe and waiting, I can outlast this army."