Rise

Chapter Ten: Blood and Honour

Clarence studied his general's green uniform, neatly pressed and tailored to fit the man's large physique. Many medals were pinned to the breast but none represented much. The victories had been fabricated, the campaigns simulated and invented. They needed something to show off, something to give the man more authority than his height and stern visage commanded.

The General did have experience however,  most from fighting many long years in the Great War, in a leadership role.  The man had come out alive, on the winning side to boot. Not that there was any real winner. I guess they just needed something to put in the history books. Clarence mused as he twirled a pen in his fingers.

West slumped back in his cushy leather chair, tensing slightly as the cool material touched his neck. He wondered how long the man could stay silent, standing at the door to his oval office, a stoic figure next to the hanging flag and presidential seal, waiting to speak. He knew John York would wait for his own command and would wait indefinitely. That was his definition of respect. Does he respect my money, my power, or is his mind truly so weak that the propaganda has made him my puppet? Clarence asked in his mind, narrowing his eyes at the man, ceasing his pen-twirling.

Placing his pen back on his desk, Clarence leaned forwards in his chair, releasing an audible squeak. John did not say a word, nor did his blank facial expression change. He's good, Clarence thought, finally ready to give up his game.

West leaned back once again, making himself comfortable in his chair. 

"Am I a good man, York?" Clarence asked, cocking his head to the side slightly.

"Of course sir. The greatest," John replied, his British accent making the words sound like honey to West's American ears.

"But am I good, as opposed to evil?"

"There is no doubt sir,"

"Then why do I bring war to the world, after there had already been so much?"

"Because you must, sir,"

"Then why must I bring war, when there has been peace for so long?"

"Without war, you cannot pave the way for peace, sir,"

"What peace? There already was peace,"

"Yes. A peace of bandits, raiders, and towns separated by more than just desert. No, there was no peace. You are bringing that to your people. A peace the world has not known in all of time. There is no other way but through blood and war. You are their saviour, sir,"

"And who decided I was to be this?"

"You did, sir,"

"Am I honourable, John?" West through in the man's first name, just to see if he would react. York's expression did not shift, his thick grey mustache not even bristling.

"Yes, sir,"

"What is honourable?"

"Whatever you decide, sir,"

"I'm talking about the definition,"

"I was too, sir,"

A smile crept onto West's face at York's words. He was impressed, to say the least. And proud as well. It was comforting to hear the conviction in the man's voice, the unwavering certainty that what he was saying was true. It felt good.

Clarence did not invite John to talk anymore, for he did not care for whatever report he was to give. The man can stand there until I am ready to deal with his jargon and useless figures. As long as my soldiers are moving quick and efficiently, that is all I need to know. He can wait, besides, he cannot leave unless I dismiss him. Not that I need to worry about that. He's good, he's loyal. If it is all an act, I would never know. If it is all an act I'd probably be dead by now. Not that he would ever get the gun from his holster if he tried. The security systems would take care of that. It's good to hold all the cards in one hand, it's good to sit in this chair,"

West spun his chair to face the wall of windows, sparkling in the sunlight. A small smirk grew on his lips as he watched the latest recruits drilling, practicing with their rifles and marching about the grounds. He felt a satisfaction in the fact that they were willing to die at his command, for any cause he claimed was just. The man leaned further back in his chair, content to spend the rest of the day observing his soldiers as they prepared to carry out his orders.