20 of 32

4 0 0
                                    

The volcano is everywhere and nowhere in the war, all things to it at all points and therefore, in an important way, absent by ever-presence. She finds instead this army's small general, one who thinks he leads his troops, when se he no more leads them than horns lead a stampeding bull. His chin is covered in blood where he has been feeding on an enemy.
At the sight of her, the small general drops his enemy and bows to her respectfully. 'My lady.' he says.
'You know me?'
'Everyone knows you, my lady.'
'You fight for my husband.'
'Aye, my lady.' He gestures to his disembowelled enemy, now grasping at his viscera and trying to shove them back into his body. 'But so did he. We all fight for your husband, my lady.'
'Are you not tired?' she asks, stepping around him in a slow circle.
He looks up, surprised. 'Aye, my lady,' he says, his voice full of weariness and disappointment.
'You do not seek war,' she says, behind him now.
'No, my lady.'
'You seek forgiveness.'
He answers nothing for a moment, but when she comes round again to his face, he pulls himself up to full height and looks proud. 'As you say, my lady.'
'Shall I forgive you?' she asks, slightly puzzled, a hesitancy forming around her.
The small general unbuttons his uniform and exposes the skin over his heart. 'As my lady wishes.'
She goes to him. His eyes give nothing away. She is unsure still, and hesitates.
'This cannot be done in anger,' she says. 'It can only be done out of love.'
'Would it help my lady if I wept?'
'Very much.'
The small general weeps.
'Thank you,' she says, and plunges two fingers into his exposed breast, piercing his heart, stopping it.

The Crane Wife and the VolcanoWhere stories live. Discover now