Chương 22

Urstin nervously clutched the coin he'd been given. He'd never actually been paid since joining the army; one of the veterans had told him that getting paid was a sure way to get robbed. The army provided his clothes, food, and equipment, so there hadn't really been any need for him to buy anything on his own. Three years, he thought. He'd been Urstin for three years.

Perith had been 'dead' for three years and now Urstin was walking around the army with a single silver coin, and it was the most money he'd ever held at one time before. He was nervous, looking around for the sort of veterans he knew to avoid. There were a lot of them, because there was a certain sort of man who liked living in the army and that sort of man wasn't gentle. He'd been outright lucky that the veterans who had taken him under his wing right from basic training had been the other sort of veteran.

The ones like him, who had joined to avoid the Tithe. Theoretically, the army would be dispersed when Tal had conquered the rest of the world, and everyone who'd joined or been conscripted into the vast armies of their undead overlord would be allowed to return home. Or, in Urstin's case, allowed to find a new home with their backpay. That day might be coming soon, some of the officers were saying, as the men on the front reported back that Zozheim was being torn apart without and within.

But Urstin didn't have much hope of that. His luck wasn't that good. He'd see combat and he knew it, just like he'd known that he'd draw yellow. He had known, that's why he'd been so nervous, cursing the absent gods for making him three days older than he ought to be. No, he was going to die in battle. He was sure of it. And that's why he'd asked around. There was something he wanted to do before he died, and he knew that the others did it.

Some of them did it quite frequently, burning through their pay as fast as they earned it on the habit. Others escaped their situation with narcotics, but not too many. Not for very long, since those who were caught, distributor and user alike, were hanged without trial. No, Urstin wasn't looking for drugs. What he was looking for was tolerated by the officers. Some of the officers were known to partake themselves! He just wanted to do it once. So that he wouldn't die not knowing what it was like. That's it.

So he'd asked around. And the same name had come up three or four times. She charged a silver coin, but she was worth it, according to those who knew about such things. So he'd gone to the quartermaster and asked for one silver from his back pay. The man had looked at him.

"One silver coin, eh?" he asked.

"Wonder what it is you want that costs one silver coin." Urstin, his face crimson, hadn't risen to the bait.

"It's my pay, sir. I'll spend it as I please."

"Oh, to be sure, to be sure. You have earned sixteen silver and thirty six copper, according to these records here," the man said, flipping through a ledger.

"So it's well within your rights to withdraw one single silver coin. For. Your. Pleasure." The man was just teasing him, Urstin knew. That didn't make his face burn any less crimson.

"Let me just record this. You are withdrawing one. Silver. Coin. There. Now there is an official document that on this day, Urstin Nobody withdrew one. Silver. Coin." The man opened a lockbox, withdrew the coin, and handed it over.

"I'm sure you'll spend it all in one place. Are you visiting Tari or Olivia?" Urstin blushed, but the man clearly knew, and another opinion wouldn't hurt.

"I heard Olivia was better." Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Olivia has that reputation and she works hard for it, but she's busy. She'll give you to one of her girls and the girls will do a fine job with you. My advice? You have two weeks before you ship out. Give the silver coin to Tari and get on her calendar. Tari will take care of you herself."

"Thank you for the advice, sir," Urstin said, face crimson. Then he saluted, stuffed the silver coin in his pocket and raced off. And now he was struck by indecision. He'd been planning on going to Olivia, but the quartermaster was a good man, even if he'd teased Urstin. He probably dealt with this situation all the time, so he probably knew what he was talking about. Yeah, Urstin decided. He'd go to Tari. He bumped into someone and dropped his coin. He hadn't been looking where he was going and he fell on his ass.

He looked up, and the face looking down at him had a brand on its forehead. It wasn't Tal, thank the departed gods. It was… Kul? Urstin couldn't read but he knew some of the runes and that was the one for Kul he thought.

"Apologies," Urstin said hastily.

"I didn't mean to—" The Inalten stepped on Urstin's chest like he wasn't there, then continued walking, leaving naught but a bootprint behind. Urstin blinked for a moment. Then he sat up, scrambled for his coin, and ran off before the laughter of the men who had seen the exchange got to much to bear. He found his way to the camp followers shortly after and politely asked for directions. When he knew where to go, he found the wagon that was more of a portable house than a wagon.

He knocked on the door, and the door was answered promptly. By a shirtless woman in her late twenties. Urstin's face began to turn crimson and his body began to respond in other ways to the sight.

"Business, pleasure, or both?" the woman asked.

"Are you Tari?" Urstin asked.

"I-I-your name was recommended to me for—""You're looking for a whore, right? Well, you're in the right place. I'm not Tari but I can get you on her schedule. You pay upfront and come back in two days. Bathe well before you arrive and wear fresh clothes. No refund if we inspect you and find you've got cockrot or whatnot. We report that to the medical officers and keep the coin of the idiots who were spreading it around camp."

"I don't have—that's not a problem," he said.

"I'm a—I'm a virgin."

"Well, Tari will fix that in two days. You were right to go to the best. Now pay up, and come back here in two days after you finish your drills. Your coin pays for her time until dawn the next day. What you do during that time is nobody's business."

"O-okay," he said. He nervously handed over the coin, and the bare-breasted woman shut the door to the wagon behind her. As he was walking back to the barracks, Urstin nervously wondered if he'd just been scammed. But two days later, he learned that he had not. And Tari's time was worth every bit of the silver coin he'd paid for it. When he was on the march, weeks later, he remembered that night and smiled, and the memory helped him keep going through the exhaustion.

He was looking forward to spending another silver coin. He didn't think he'd go to Tari again, though. She'd been great for learning what to do, but now that he knew what to do, he'd go to someone closer his own age, he thought. Later, when the fighting started, Urstin didn't have time to think about spending silver coins. He didn't remember how it had happened. The night of the battle was all one big blur, coming to him in bits and flashes. His sergeant yelling at him to get into formation.

Raising his shield with the other men in the shield wall. Marching forward. The stink of the men's bodies and their breath as the arrows rained down on them like pebbles from above. He didn't know where they were fighting. He didn't know who they were fighting. He didn't know why they were fighting. All he really knew was that when the battle was over, he was impaled by a spear through his abdomen. The pain was intense, and he cried out, using up the last of his strength.

Then there was movement, and someone was by his side.

"Be at ease, son. The wound is not so terrible as it appears," came a kind voice.

"Should we give him grace?" someone asked.

"No!" he exclaimed, for he knew exactly what that meant.

"You heard him," the kind voice said.

"If he asks for it, give it to him. But until then, let him fight for his life. I'll treat his wounds and bring him to the cart with the others." The spear was removed, and Urstin blacked out. The next three months were a feverish blur. He was convinced that any day, he'd die. It happened all around him every day. Someone would stop screaming or sobbing or whatever they'd been doing to deal with the pain.

Then a while later, they'd just calmly stand up, as though they hadn't been eviscerated or had an arm lopped off or whatever had brought them into the field hospital. The nurses brought these patients out of the hospital and sent them to stand with the rest of the dead. Where they'd remain until the next battle. In Tal's army, being in the hospital was an excuse not to be in formation. Being dead was not.