"Hey man, what do you want?"
".... We only have one type of food, idiot."
"Alright! One gruel it is, my man. Here you go~"
A week into the general's stay and his men are sickening me. Attempting to be cheerful in this place, trying to be friendly, but clearly distinguished from others by their face.
Their clear faces, devoid of any despair.
It seems that they all try to follow their leader's example in their boisterousness, idiocy, and useless energy. They all wake us up at the crack of dawn, for a routine morning run, exercise, then sparring. At least when the leeches were here they didn't care what the fuck we soldiers, peons, did in our spare time.
Which is better, annoyance or indifference?
...
What sickens me the most is that deep down, I seem to like this change.
I mean, I can't deny my body feeling alot better than when I was just lazing about, sleeping for the most part, or just staring off into the ceiling. I can't deny that it feels nice when people ask how my day is going, and seems genuinely interested in my activities. It makes me seem more than a cog in a machine, almost human.
But that's where I draw my line. Others have seemed to embrace this change, and have become friends to the newcomers, laughing about every night, taking night watches and patrols together or whatnot. Not me.
Friends.
I had friends. When I was happy, in hope, and life. I wouldn't say I was the most popular person in the world, but I had a decent amount of friends. Bill, Tom, Harry, Abigail, Clarice.
....
How is it that when a so-called "friend" is in help, they can so easily abandon them?
I don't believe in friends. When I was forced to transfer here, my glory and achievements stripped from me, when I was turned from a lieutenant into a lowly soldier, when I was humiliated amongst my peers. No one. Not one. Stood up for me, cried out against injustice, remembered our friendship, our brotherhood, our bond.
No.
Instead, they played lots to decide who gets my men; they competed over my position; they spat upon my past goodwill, unwilling to stick out their necks for the one who stuck his literal neck out for them several times upon the field.
Why?
They answered, "Haven't you always looked down on us? Haven't you always surrounded yourself with us, to show off how happy, how content you are compared to us? Since when are you better than us, when you're the same trash as us? Tch. Serves you right, idiot."
No, no, no.
Maybe it was me who changed, or maybe it was them who changed. It doesn't change anything now. All this encounter proved is that everyone changes and friends only prove to bare you heart, your soul to such ever-changing, capricious, fickle creatures.
"Uh hey, man, you good?"
"Sure, sure, just tired."
I stick out a well-practiced smile at the annoyance. He smiles, relieved, and then proceeds to continue the unwanted conversation.
"I bet. I mean, you got the dark watch last night, I bet you're begging to be back in your bed and snooze off, huh~ "
I grunted in reply, a vague answer, one that usually indicates the disinterest in the conversation. He continues. Tch.
"I mean, whew. Dark watch, the last four hours of the night patrols. Even I would be grumpy as you in the morning with that sort of night," he jabs, a smile and wink sent towards me to take out any sting in his words. But I was a bit preoccupied with his words to take offense.
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"Wait, what do you mean? Isn't dark watch only 2 hours, and then passes off to the daybreak watch for the last two?"
"Ah about that, the general made an announcement yesterday at the mess hall regarding the changes in patrols. Even if you weren't there, didn't anyone tell you?"
I visibly pale. Obviously, no one did. I had no friends in this place, and made no effort to make one. After a moment's panic, I sigh, and then resign myself to my fate. It was my fault, after all. Maybe if I confess first, instead of having it found out, the sentence would be ligh-
"GOOD MORNING! WAHAHAHAHA!"
....
Welp, time to fess up now.
"Uh general, I have a mistake to report."
"Ah! Last night's dark watch absentee." His face slightly darkens, then in a stern tone he asks,
"Were you ill? Or did you have some unavoidable matter? The usual protocol is to report a few days ahead of time, but I suppose I could make an exception."
.....
This.... stupidly kind man. He's devoid of all suspicion of foul play, or a simple dereliction of duties or laziness. He sincerely believes that there's an underlying reason to my absence, and wants to give me a way out. Well, illness is a legitimate reason for absence from patrol, but unfortunately, ignorance is not.
"Uh no, sir. It's just, I have not been informed of the changes last night, so...."
"I see... You do realize what the standard punishment is?"
"Yes." 7 lashes. A bit severe, but standard military code promotes such severity to dissuade lax behavior in times of conflict. I grit my teeth. It's gonna be painful, but I could handle it.
"... Well, taking into account that you were not aware of your mistake, we will reduce that to 3 lashes." With a sigh, he stares at me.
----------------------------------------
Cold. It's always cold here in the north, but with bared chest, it seems as if the cold is magnified. I walk up to the lashing post at the grounds, where the soldier with whom I had the brief discussion with this morning stands with the whip upon his hands. He looks concerned, and a bit out of sorts. I chuckle slightly at his discomfort, then before the onlooking eyes of the army I tie my hands around the post, and ready myself. Being given a piece of leather, I bite down, tasting the salty, dusty leather tense against my teeth.
"For skipping the last two hours of his alloted patrol, 7 lashes to be handed out. Commence."
What the fu-
AHHHHHHH
"1"
This fucking bast-
"2"
I'm gonna kill this son of a bi-
"3"
I grit my teeth even harder, steeling my nerves and heart for the next blow. But the blow never comes. Instead, a hand reaches out, and removes me from the post. I look up, to see the bare-chested general himself. He winks at me, then places his finger against his lips. Going up to the post, he ties his hand, and taking upon a new leather bit bites down.
"Recommence!"
"4"
"5"
"6"
"7"
"Remove him from the post, and banadge and apply ointment to his wounds. Let this be a lesson!"
The irony in his words couldn't be louder. As the older soldier mill about in confusion, the newcomers that came with the general each go to them and speak into their ears. A light of understanding alights in their eyes, as they look on with respect.
I can't understand.
----------------------------------------
After the lashing, I ask the general for a bit of his time. Finding him at his room, I marvel a bit in shock. I expected him to take over Balthwin's room; instead, he took a room in the barracks like us.
"Do you need something, soldier? WAHAHA-urgh" He attempts to laugh, then winces in pain as it aggravates his injury on the back.
"Why did you do it sir?" For a nobody like me?
"Standard protocol does not forgive ignorance, but that's bullshit. You don't know what you don't know. How do they expect soldier to follow orders if they don't know the orders? Do they think they're telepaths?" He snorted. "And don't give me any of that 'Oh they should've asked around'. Tell me, honestly, do you think any of the soldiers here in this fort that's not part of my entourage are mentally, or psychologically sound?"
Probably not. I mean, we do get sent here for a reason. We're the dregs of the army, of the country, of society. But that makes what he did have even less sense.
"But sir, why would you take the lashes yourself? Couldn't you have just said 3 lashes and gotten it over with?"
He sighs.
"Military codes are military codes. Everyone sees the lashing, and everyone can count. If an inspector by chance comes and asks if everything happened as it should be, then every soldier can say with confidence that the full 7 lashes had been served." He smiled. I gulp, then ask the most pressing question on my mind.
"Why you?"
He pauses, a distant look in his eyes, then refocuses and looks at me.
"What did I call you guys when I first arrived at the fort?"
".... new brothers sir."
"How can I call myself a brother in arm if I can't even share the pains and burdens of my fellow brethren?"
...
"Thank you for your answers, sir."
"No problem lad. And you're exempted from night patrols until your back heals fully. Hey, that's one thing that ended up helping you out, eh? WAHAHAHA!" At the sound of his laughter, I bow, and back out of the room.
...........
"Oh, sorry."
When going back to my barracks, lost in thought, I bump into someone, and spout off an apology reflexively. Looking up, I see the concerned face of the annoyance at breakfast. He had a concerned look on his face, and a bottle of ointment.
"What do you need?"
"Well, I, uh, thought you might need this." He answers awkwardly. I bet being the bearer of bad news as well as the executioner made it a bit awkward, but I'm over it after the talk with the general. Feeling a bit lighter in my heart, I ask,
"Hey, by the way, I've never gotten your name."
He smiles, then holds out his hand for a shake.
"Never thought you'd ask man. It's John."
I shake the offered hand.