Act Three - A Vengeance Wicked and Cruel

Interlude

Major Dryden and the rest of the 13th Dragoons had been given the honour of escorting the noble ladies out of Vurun. Lady Julia Gorst rode a horse beside him. Lady Helena Belfair rode with her father, Brigadier Belfair. The older general looked a haunted and hollow man now and he and his daughter rode in silence. They had been rescued along with hundreds of others. Many had never been found, perhaps dead, perhaps sold as slaves and taken elsewhere. Slave traders across the east were now rich with those who had not been valuable enough to hold as ransom, but not so valueless as to simply kill.

Dryden had assumed command of the 13th for now, though it was only temporary until Lord Havor resumed his health and his duties. He rode behind with Princess Roxana beside him. Roxana was far enough along that she could no longer hide that she was pregnant. Dryden wondered if it was Kurush’s child, or Colonel Havor’s. They rode at an easy pace. The enemy was broken, and while the Fyrins were just on the other side of Zundak Pass, they were not advancing, and there was no army harrying them as they went. The city lay in ashes. No crowds gathered to see them off or taunt them or riot. Only a few stray dogs watched with hungry eyes from abandoned alleyways as they rode out. They had waited until early autumn to leave, after the heat, but before the snows, when the weather was mild. It had taken time for the soldiers who had been prisoners to regain some of their old strength. They had stayed in the old palace of Shah Guranji and the cantonment and old fort. For most that were with them, this was the first time since their rescue that they had gone out and seen what had become of Vurun.

Julia stared numbly out at the destruction as they rode. It was the first time they had been together since her rescue. Finally, she spoke, and as ever rebuke was in her tone, “You burned so much of it.”

He wished he could shield her eyes. The destruction of Vurun was his great shame. He said nothing in reply. They rode for a time through the desolation of the old city. They had been placed in the middle of the army column for safety, and though they were surrounded by his men and the men of General Haddock, and he was riding beside Julia, he felt so terribly empty inside.

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Eventually, Julia spoke again, “I see you wear my father’s sword.”

“Indeed. He gave it to me before the end,” He explained simply.

“A pity.”

“Pardon?” Dryden said, taken aback.

“Not that it came to you, a pity it came to anyone at all and was not simply lost to the mountains,” She explained.

“It is a fine sword,” Dryden said, he knew well that it had other qualities, “What know you of it?”

“My father spoke often of the sword. He detested it, but could not be rid of it. A soldier’s curse, he called it, I wish it had never been forged.”

“It has served me well enough,” Dryden replied.

Someone came riding forward. It was Captain Pugh. He had been riding a few places behind, but came alongside Dryden and rode three abreast. Pugh grinned at Dryden, “You made jolly work of this place, sir.”

“I don’t think it a jolly thing, Captain Pugh. We only did what had to be done.”

“You had to destroy all this?” Julia asked, a slight wetness in her eyes.

“The Fyrin army is just on the other side of Zundak. Couldn’t let them have the aethium,” Pugh explained. He always had a knack for seeing a situation instantly for what it was, sometimes in brutal terms. What he said was true, too. It was like Pugh had been there in the command tent when the invasion was decided upon, though in truth he had been imprisoned and starving in the depths of the Crimson Fort of Vurun.

“You had to kill women and children?” Julia asked angrily.

“No, I…” Dryden started to explain.

“War is a hard thing sometimes, Julia,” It was Brigadier Belfair behind them who answered, “Your father knew that, gods rest him.”

Dryden felt ill at the thought that Belfair and he might share an opinion on any matter at all. He utterly detested the man, but he continued, “We fought to rescue you, Julia, to rescue you all.”

“Well you should know, we had nearly reached an agreement with our gaolers to be ransomed before you came in and burned it all down.”

“Commendable, but that wouldn’t have fixed the problem with the Fyrin army,” Pugh interjected, “Nor would it have freed our soldiers, myself included.”

“John Dryden, you will explain this to me, for I do not understand it. I do not think I truly wish to understand it, but I cannot fathom how this came to be, how gentlemen of honour could despoil a land so thoroughly. It cannot have been only for me. I will not allow it to be so. What was so wicked in this land that it could not be saved? Do not tell me of Fyrin armies or of aethium or of prisoners, John.”

“What do you hope to gain from that?” Dryden asked softly.

“The truth, John, and I hope to know who you truly are, I hope you are not the monster I fear that you may be,” Julia said in return, a tear trickling down her cheek.

Dryden pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to her, “Very well. I will tell you,” and all the way to Andaban, they rode together, and he told her of all the vengeance that had been taken, and of the ruin of Vurun.