Victory's Price

Mollen (Part Twenty-Five)

Chapter 25

Moll huddled sullenly into a wooden chair, cradling a hot cup of tea into his chest.

Karter’s office was not large and had been made even smaller by the piles of mess that crowded every available surface. Had he been given the time or were he to be here under more pleasant circumstance, Moll would have loved nothing more than to peruse Karter’s menagerie of useless belongings.

As it was he kept his hands to himself and watched his friend warily as he paced up and down the little available floor space.

“I can see that determination in you, Mollen.” Karter observed. “That same determination and stubbornness that had us sneaking after girls when we were younger. That same determination that left you stranded beneath the cliff road for four hours because you wanted to see the seals. Dammit, Mollen, it’s the same obstinacy that’s made your brother a complete nutcase.”

Moll said nothing, sipping his tea and attempting to calm his nerves.

Karter, however, seemed to have no issue with displaying his emotion.

“Mollen, if you keep this up it’s not just a slap you’re going to get or a cold and a severe telling off. Your brother’s only reward for his determination is laughter, Mollen, but if you continue down this road I’m telling you things are going to get bad, and quickly.”

“People are dying, Karter. Right now, as we speak, people are dying. And that’s only going to get worse too. I promise you that. It doesn’t matter how bad things get for me or how quickly – if I don’t do anything my men are still going to be dying.” Moll’s voice was husky from the shouting but he still managed to convey the urgency behind his words.

“By bad, Mollen, I mean you could be dying.”

Moll looked up from his tea. Too much had been happening lately. He felt cold and oddly empty. Everything had taken on a dream-like quality and he was struggling to remember why he’d awoken happy this morning.

“Let me tell you a little about war.” He said.

Karter’s aura switched rapidly from anger to concern at the weariness in Moll’s voice.

“I know it’s hard.” He said.

“No. You don’t.”

Moll set his tea on the table. For a while he was silent, studying his hands. When he eventually spoke, his words were quiet and heavy.

“Every choice I make could mean someone’s life. It could mean a lot of lives. And do you know the worst part? I don’t even think I should be fighting. I think Seira should be given the land it needs.”

“There’s always been a clearly defined border between Seira and the Motherland.”

“Yes, I’ve heard those words a hundred times too but next time you say them, think about what you’re saying. A clearly defined border isn’t worth going through what I’ve been through.

“Every night, Karter, every single night you go to bed terrified. It’s not… I can’t… Have you ever actually seen anyone die? Surely in your job you’ve seen people die.”

“I’ve attended hangings.”

“And how close are you?”

Karter shrugged, taking a seat opposite Moll and his haggard expression.

“I’m in the crowd.” He said.

“Well, imagine you’re not in the crowd. Imagine you’re closer. Imagine you’re so close you see the lights go out. Imagine you’re so close that as you suddenly realise the injustice of the act you look down and realise that it’s you and your sword that’s committed it. You see,” Moll elaborated. “Everybody thinks that the horror behind war is that you spend the whole time wondering when you’re finally going to be the one that dies.

“But that’s not it. That’s not it at all.

“You spend the whole time hoping that you’re next because that’s the easiest way to end it all. And then one day you realise that this can’t last forever that someday it’s got to end. You think that maybe it might be worth it, worth living, if there’s the promise that everything will go back to normal.

“But that’s just never going to happen.

“Karter, I am a murderer. I have killed three people. It seems like such a small number but at the time it felt like hundreds.

“I am a terrible person because I am here and it’s the most amazing thing in the world. I don’t want to go back but I have to. I have to go back and I have to bring more men with me. I have to inflict this on others. It will turn every single one of them into something completely inhuman but that’s the only way I can end it myself.”

The tension in the room settled into a thick haze. Moll dropped his head onto the table, exhausted with the strains of emotional toil but Karter remained upright, his lips pursed in a thin line of discontent.

“We don’t have the men to give you.” He told Moll solemnly, his voice low in empathy.

“What?”

“Mollen, where do you think we’re going to suddenly come up with a hundred men?”

“I need more than a hundred.”

“Moll, the Motherland hasn’t been in any kind of large scale conflict for over two hundred years. We haven’t got a secret army hidden in the slums. The cohort you were given was all we had. You’ve got noblemen’s sons, some of my guards and the few peasants that can hold a sword. That’s it. That’s all we have.”

“That’s less than five hundred men.”

“Yes. And less than five hundred men is everyone. You can bluster around here with your righteous nobleman’s anger all you like but it won’t magic you up a single sword and if you’re not careful you’ll end up with your head in the dust.”

“Why did no one tell me?”

“You think this is the kind of information we can just scatter randomly? You tell me, Mollen, if Seira found out how long do you think it’ll be before they’re scaling the walls?”

“I can’t just do nothing, Karter.”

“You don’t have to. Stay here a few days, let your mind relax, and then go back to your men. They need a good leader. God knows your brother will have killed every single one of them if you let him resume charge without you.”

“But…”

“Leave the politics to the politicians, Mollen. The Family Heads like you, they respect you. Yes, even Azra Cormell. If it wasn’t for your brother I’d have staked large amounts of money on your family receiving another offer to join any one of those four. They’ve heard what you’ve said and they’re not stupid. This matter with Seira can be solved without you martyring yourself.”

Moll dropped his head into his hands. As the sun warmed up the day, Karter’s claustrophobic office was beginning to become stifling with the two of them in such close vicinity.

“Go home, Moll.” Somehow, Karter’s heavy hand found its way onto Moll’s shoulder and his fingers tightened comfortingly. “Get a few nights sleep, stay away from here for a bit and then do the honourable thing.”

“Since when did the honourable thing and the right thing stop being the same thing?”

“Since we grew up, Mollen, since we grew up.”