Chapter Nine - Sharp Words

“It is greater than God, more evil than the devil. The poor have it, the rich need it, and if you eat it you will die,” Klicati said with a sly look at Mara.

Mara hissed some flames as she thought. “Nothing. What always runs, but never walks, often murmurs but never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth, but never eats?”

“Runs walks, murmurs, talks, bed, sleeps, mouth, eats,” Klicati murmured quietly to herself. She paused, thinking. “A river. A prisoner is told ‘If you tell a lie we will hang you, if you tell the truth, we will shoot you.’ What can he say to save himself?”

The ligon snorted in disgust. “‘You will hang me.’ I am always hungry, I must always be fed. The finger I touch will soon turn red.”

The cat looked quizzically at the ligon next to her. What was this one? She thought over several things, pondering the riddle. What could the answer be? She pondered over it, and thought it over, turning it over, until, at last, it hit her. “Fire.”

General Hayden Potter glanced outside his tent. The rain was slowing down. It was still dark outside, only a few stars graced the sigh. He saw Elbrenhine shining in the heavens, the Queen of the Galaxy, Queen of the Stars. Potter smiled a small smile upon seeing her. He was a man who still had emotions, and he loved things of nature and the saints. He moved back into his tent and strapped on his sword belt. It was time to prepare to ride again. Tomorrow they would attack Eirtue. He was sure of it. It didn’t take long for him to pack up his cot and roll up his bedroll. The general brought them outside and tied them on to the back of the saddle. Already some of his men were taking down his tent and placing it with the other tents. Tying his cloak around his neck, he gave the site one last glance around before walking towards his horse. Swinging his leg over the horse’s saddle he mounted quickly and rode to where the captain stood astride his horse.

“Are we ready to move Captain Glearis?” he asked sharply. If the answer was no, Glearis would have some answering to do, he decided.
“Almost, my lord general,” Glearis responded with a nod towards his General. “The last remnants of the battalion are preparing to march”
“Very good Captain,” Potter said. He sighed inwardly though. He wanted to ride! To march. To fight. To fight is what he truly wanted. And then, at the end, to proclaim a new king, one whom he could control.

A young lieutenant came riding up to where Glearis and Potter waited. He saluted smartly and briefly and waited to be acknowledged before he began to speak.

“Yes Lieutenant?” Captain Glearis asked the young lad.
“My lord Captain,” he began, then nodded at General Potter, “and my lord General.” He turned his attention back to his captain before continuing. “The men have taken down the camp. They are ready to march towards Eirtue.”
“Very good Lieutenant. My lord General?” Glearis asked the general inquiringly.
“Sound the horn. We march to the city of Eirtue!”

Glearis wound the horn and the company set off. They marched down the long dusty rode towards Eirdue, one of the four major cities outside of the Seventeens. As they rode, Potter summoned the young lieutenant to him. The boy rode over, and after another salute, remained silent until he was spoken to. The general also remained silent for quite a ways, the only sounds that could be heard were the clip clop of the horses and the steady tramp of the soldiers and the twittering of little birds in the trees that they past. Occasionally the busy hum of a bee could be heard as it flew from flower to flower. Finally, the general turned to the boy and began to speak.

“What is your name Lieutenant?” he asked without further ado.
“Pevensie, my lord general,” came the eager lad’s reply.
“Indeed. What have you been taught about those in command over you, Lieutenant Pevensie?”
“Always to salute them, and not to speak until they have acknowledged you, my lord general.”
“Indeed. Is that all you were taught at the barracks school in Merisna?”
“No, my lord general. I was also taught to acknowledge the highest ranking officer first, and to speak directly to him, no matter who my direct officer is.”
“Indeed?” General Potter asked, raising his eyebrows quizzically. “Is that so?”
“Oh yes, my lord general. It was one of the first lessons taught to us at the barracks school.”
“If this is true, Lieutenant Pevensie, as I believe it is, for I learned those same lessons when I was at the barracks school in Mersina, then may I inquire as to the reason that you did not obey those lessons this morning?”
Young Lieutenant Pevensie looked down at his horse’s saddle horn sheepishly, and studied the design on it intently. What was he to say to this? He had done wrong. And now he must pay the price for doing such wrong. He sighed deeply, but broke off in the middle, knowing that the general was expecting an answer.

“I am very sorry my lord general,” he began rather awkwardly. “I, well you see, well, I was, I was not expecting to see you there my lord general, and so I didn’t really register the fact that you were there. I did not mean to slight you or to do it on purpose, it was only that I was so eager to go and I did not really realize that it was you who was there, and . . .” he broke off, knowing that whatever excuse he made was in fact quite futile.
“Do you dare to make excuses to your lord and general?” Potter said turning towards the young lieutenant.

The boy’s face had been so eager, and so willing to please just a few moments ago. Now, it was crestfallen and wrought with shame. It seemed a pity for one so young to have to fall prey to such rules and regulations as defined the army of the Duke of the Seventeens, but it was to be expected. Not all could keep up with the firm laws that had been created. Should he let the boy get away with it this time, with a warning, should he punish the lad, or send the young lieutenant back to Merisna in open shame? He could not do that. But what could, or should, or would he do punishment wise? A lashing with the whip when they stopped for the night? No, that hardly seemed appropriate in this case. A tongue lashing should be all that young Pevensie needed this time. Hopefully it was all that he needed. But he would ensure that the boy got a good one.