Although the conversation with his comrades was short, it drained him of his petty stamina reserves. Zan napped for several more hours. He woke near evening.

Jiehong was by his side, reading something which looked like a small book.

“Where’d Whiskey go?” Zan asked.

Starting from his peace, Jiehong grinned once he saw his friend awake. “She is tending to her people. Traveling between the camps. Making note of the passages between those encampments. Preparing for the next stage of the war. I told her we would leave tomorrow morning. So she will be by then to tell us what she knows of the region’s defenses.”

“Good… good…” was all Zan could say before he said, “Because that is why we did all this. For that information, and the off-chance, it actually helps in the war.”

“Right? I can’t even say how pissed I would be if she had no actual information to tell us or forgot to tell us,” Jie said.

Though Zan felt a twinge of irritation at Jiehong telling Whiskey they would spend the night in a rebel camp, since he wanted to head back to the command center right away, feeling how exhausted he was merely by keeping his eyes open and making small talk, he had to admit, a good night’s sleep was much needed. Welcomed with open arms, even. Then Zan’s stomach growled.

“I got you covered,” Jie said, grabbing a nearby bowl and quickly heading to a central fire pit with a large black cauldron over a massive fire.

Jiehong returned and gave Zan the bowl with a spoon. “It’s a stew and boy, is it yummy! I’ve had four helpings myself; go on, eat! I will get you some water!”

While Jie went off in search of water, Zan brought a spoon full of the stew to his lips. Within the single bite appeared to be several kinds of meats and vegetables. Spices and herbs swirled within the bite; Jiehong had not lied — it smelled delicious and when swallowed, tasted even better!

Scarfing down another bite, then another, the entire bowl vanished without a trace. Zan licked the bowl greedily as he waited for Jiehong to return.

“Whoa!” Hie said upon seeing Zan’s tongue darting over the bowl. “See? It is irresistible, ain’t it?”

Jiehong handed Zan a tin cup filled with chunks of ice. “I gathered the ice fresh from a nearby cave. Man, these rebels know the land! I never would have thought ice-bearing caves existed this close to the surface!”

Zan took the cup from his friend the cup and saw more than mere icy chunks. “What is that? Is this… berries?”

“Yeah! Wild, right? They use the ice to preserve the berries, then dice them up, and put them into water. It flavors the water and adds a refreshing snack at the end of the drink. Cool, right?” Jiehong replied.

“Looks like these rebels have it figured out…” Zan said, pausing to take several large gulps of the water. Jie was right. Delicious!

Several more bowls of stew and cups of ice water later, and Zan was feeling much better. It was now he noticed someone bandaged his body. Jiehong said it was a rebel doctor who tended him. A kindly old man who looked half his age.

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Jiehong had joined Zan for another couple of bowls. With their meal finished, and five additional bowls of stew gone into Zan’s no-longer-rumbling stomach, a newcomer came and introduced himself. “My name is Ming Cato,” he said. “I am the leader of this rebel pack. I am told you led the raid on the enemy’s stronghold. You’re a very brave soul, Zan.”

Feeling energized, now he had food in his belly, Zan gave a reply. “Thank you, Ming. I truly appreciate your kindness. And your rescue of our ill-planned raid.”

“Ill-planned or not, you acted from your heart. I can tell you are patriots through and through for your home,” Ming replied.

“Doesn’t that bother you? As a rebel, I mean?” Zan asked, now curious to get to the heart of matters.

“Does it bother me? HA! Hardly! No, speaking truthfully, it does not. Your home is more than your allegiance to an abstract force of politics. The King, I mean. Your home is your place of birth, your memories of your village and its people. Your home is not merely ‘this man, this king, rules over me, and I am loyal to him!’ No, it is your life, and your reason for fighting!” Ming said with a passion Zan had not seen since first encountering Colonel Winters.

Taking a moment to consider fully Ming’s words, Zan said, “I never thought of it like that before. But you will excuse me if I don’t become a rebel right away…”

Ming laughed, but said, “Worry not! It takes all kinds to move the world. And Zan? You’re among the movers. Consider your place in the world and I believe you and I will be closer one day than you think.”

The idea intrigued Zan. He had never thought about these ideas before, concepts like royal loyalty and how one fits in the world with one’s beliefs. Honestly, the very thought that he, Zan, a nowhere-kid from nowhere’s town, might have an opinion on something as mighty as the world. It was an idea and a half! Could he truly be someone worth listening to? A man of words and purpose?

“Now, I would love to stay and chat,” Ming said, continuing. “But I have places to be and people to check in on. I am happy I could introduce myself, though. Until we next meet, Zan and Jiehong.”

Once Ming had left, Zan, now sitting atop his sleeping bag, turned to Jie and said, “What a curious man. I liked him but we didn’t talk about much. Seems like he was buttering me up.”

Jiehong said, “Yeah. Seemed like that to me, too. I guess it would be his prerogative as a rebel. Words of silver and gold and all that, right? Always having to convince people to join his cause. Makes sense. I’m happy they aren’t kicking us out or taking us captive. I do wonder what happened to the Colonel, though…”

Zan hadn’t thought about the colonel in a while. He said, “You don’t think the rebels took him captive, do you?”

“It would be within their right to take him prisoner. But with the war going? Who knows? I know nothing about them or their goals. Not yet. But that is why I am reading this fella,”

Jiehong said, pointing at the small, book-like, reading material from earlier.

“What is it?” Zan asked, thinking of having another bowl.

“It is a piece of their propaganda,” Jiehong said. “It outlines everything they believe in and support as rebels.”

“Cool. Care to read some to me?” Zan asked.

Jiehong was about to speak but bite his tongue. He said, “Actually, I’m pretty tired. I tried reading it earlier but… lots of big words. I think I am going to turn in for the night.”

It seemed to Zan strange Jiehong did not want to read to him. Back home, during the peace, Jiehong often read to him at night when the two of them were relaxing after a hard day’s labor in the lumber yard. When he awoke, Jie seemed engrossed in the literature.

Then again, Zan reminded himself, they had barely survived a gruesome, intense battle. Give your friend a break.

Asking for another bowl of soup and ice water before he turned in, Jiehong brought Zan a couple more of each, giving Zan his own bowl for ease. Zan eat and drank with mirth and once done, having nothing more to do, he slept.

When Zan again woke, Whiskey was by his side with a concerned look.

“I have to be honest, Zan,” she said, Jiehong beginning to rouse. “You see… I might have exaggerated a bit when I said I had information…”