Page 101 of Of Empires and Dust

That was when Dahlen realised who it was. “Conal? Is that you? What happened?”

The boy had been a porter in Belduar and had come with them when they’d left Lodhar. He was a good lad, strong and sharp.

Conal looked up, blinking mud from his eyes. “Lord Virandr… I…”

“Look at me,” Anya said, pulling Conal’s gaze towards her. “I need you to focus. Where are you hurt?”

Conal shook his head, swallowing hard. “It’s not my blood.”

“What happened, Conal?”

“The Uraks.” Conal turned his gaze to his hands, his palms open. “I know I wasn’t meant to be out there, but I couldn’t just stay behind. I couldn’t. I’m old enough… I can hold a spear…”

“Fuck,” Dahlen whispered, moving closer. “I ordered you to stay back for a reason, Conal. You could have died out there. What about the others?”

Almost forty children had come with them from Belduar, some as young as six and seven, and there were many more besides from across the villages.

“Only myself and Tora went. We got spears from the armoury, and… We thought we could help. We…” Conal shook, his hands trembling. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…”

“Tora…” Dahlen breathed, realising what had happened.

“I couldn’t save her. That thing, that big Urak… It just… it just picked her up, and… she was everywhere… bits of her.” Conal looked up at Dahlen, tears streaming from his eyes. “She screamed for me to help, but I couldn’t. I can still see her.”

Dahlen set himself down into the mud beside Conal, resting his back against the house’s log wall. His gaze met Anya’s, her eyes wide with sympathy. She, too, had seen firsthand what kind of damage the Bloodmarked could do to a human body.

“There’s nothing you could have done.” Dahlen pulled his knees towards his chest and rested his forearms on them, letting out a sigh. “Take it from me. If you’d tried to save her, you’d only have joined her.”

Looking down at Conal beside him, Dahlen couldn’t help but remember his father comforting him the first time he’d taken a life. The first time he’d seen the light dim in someone’s eyes. It had been an imperial guard in Holm, a man of about twenty summers. Dahlen had been a bit younger than Conal. His father had told him to honour the man’s life by never forgetting his death. He had told him tofeelthe guilt and that if he ever stopped feeling it, to put the sword down and never take it back up again. This wasn’t quite the same, but guilt was guilt.

“I just can’t stop seeing it in my head.” Conal put his face in his hands, weeping, his shoulders trembling.

Dahlen understood viscerally. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept peacefully without memories of Belduar and Durakdur plaguing his dreams. Even then, as he sat in the mud,images of the battle that night flowed through his head like a moving picture. “It’s all right to be afraid. Fear reminds us what we have to lose. It forces us to think, to question our choices. What’s important is that we embrace our fear, but never let it control us. Do you understand?”

Conal nodded slowly. “I think so.”

“Will you do something for me? Will you promise to never forget this night? Promise to never let Tora be forgotten? Promise to think of her whenever you’re not sure why we’re fighting?”

Conal’s expression grew harder. “I promise.”

“Good.” Dahlen reached behind Conal’s head and ruffled his hair. “Nothing about battle or war or killing should give you joy, Conal. Most days, it gives us nothing but darkness, and on the best days, all we can hope for is a sense of relief. We do it because we have to. We do it because of what would happen if we didn’t.”

Conal nodded, sniffling.

Dahlen pulled himself to his feet, then reached his hand down and lifted Conal after him. “Meet me tomorrow after I’ve done my rounds. I don’t want you on the front lines, but everyone should know how to protect themselves.”

“Are you going to teach me how to use a sword?”

“Even if we had enough to go around, wielding a sword is something that takes endless practice. We’ll start with the spear.”

The boy looked a little deflated at that.

“Come.” Anya rested her hand on Conal’s back, motioning him towards the main street. “There are some hot baths running. Let’s get you cleaned and rested.”

She turned to Dahlen. “You should do the same. Exhaustion is as likely to kill you as a blade.”

“Not quite.”

Anya gave Dahlen the same unimpressed look his mother had often given him.

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