Can I Kill Him Now

"Alright, remember, the new treaty says relocation assistance — no killing!" Five years of fighting orcs doesn't switch off overnight. I could still see the fight in their eyes. 

A newbie recently assigned to my squad shouted, "What if an orc won't relocate willingly? Can I kill him then?"

"Didn't you just hear me? No killing!"

"My bad," the knight said. "Just wanted clarification."

We mounted our horses and rode out. The newbie caught up beside me while trotting to the orc's camp.

"Sir, I've been thinking, what if an orc pretends to leave our land but turns back and, like, says mean things to us? Could I kill him then?"

I stared in bewilderment. "No."

"I mean, he would be insulting an officer of the king's court. Very outrageous if you ask me."

"Get back in formation – in the rear!"

It's hard to get good knights nowadays. Although, I can sympathize with him. Orcs are ferocious fighters, cruel and heartless.

One of the last remaining orc camps spread before us, reluctant to acknowledge the treaty. Our king and the orc chief devised a peaceful solution for these holdouts. We escort an orc ambassador, and he talks them into leaving peacefully.

The orc ambassador entered the camp and began negotiating in their foul tongue, a process that would take hours.

I sat with my men, who were joking and bantering with each other. The newbie seemed likable. Everyone laughed at his jokes and enjoyed his stories.

The newbie laughed, "Okay, here's one. There was this orc raiding our village. I was only sixteen or so. I convinced him my mom's soup had magic; if he ate it, it would give him magic. The stupid beast finished the entire pot. In no time at all, he turned even greener than normal and ran out into the street where he fell over dead."

"It was my mom's laundry pot. Always told her she used too much lye."

The men fell over laughing. I chuckled.

Hours passed, and boredom set in. Some guys napped, others played cards, and the newbie was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's the new kid?" I asked.

We all looked but couldn't find him.

I searched further into a large clump of trees. I rode slowly through the low limbs, ducking my head and weaving. I spotted the kid while dodging a huge limb. He stood over a dead orc with his sword drawn. 

"You killed him," I said.

"No, I didn't," the knight said.

"What's that?" I pointed towards the dead orc face down. 

"I found him that way."

"Your sword's bloody."

"Umm. I cut myself shaving." The newbie beamed.

"You used your sword to shave? Do you really expect me to believe that?"

His eyes darted from right to left while thinking quickly. "An orc stole my razor."

"An orc?"

"Yeah – it must have been this one." He pointed to the dead body. "That's probably what killed him."

I searched the body. "He's been stabbed in the heart."

"That's funny. I could have sworn that hole wasn't there when I found him."

"Knock it off! Just admit you killed him."

"Not me."

"Seriously — the blood?"

"Like I said before, I cut myself shaving."

"Your face doesn't have a scratch on it."

The newbie searched for an answer. He almost spoke, then closed his mouth. He did this several times before blurting out, "I got better."

"You got better? Unbelievable!" I was getting nowhere. This guy lies better than a politician. "No more games. If you don't tell me what happened, I'll throw your butt into the dungeon."

"Sorry. I'm very sorry. Truthfully, I was cleaning my sword when this orc came from nowhere and ran into my sword." 

I crossed my arms, "There are three entry wounds."

"Oh yes, I forgot. He then proceeded to run into my sword two more times."

I shook my head, "It's the dungeon for you."

"Wait! Okay, you got me. The truth is, I accidentally tripped while swinging my sword. It slipped from my hand and stabbed this poor orc in the heart. I knew I broke the rules, so I attempted to pull out my sword to hide the evidence, but unfortunately, I tripped again, stabbing him a second time, and believe it or not, I accidentally tripped a third time, stabbing him once again before successfully removing my sword."

Astonishing! It's the only word I can think of to explain this psycho standing before me. However, I technically can't dispute his rubbish either. And honestly, I don't have the energy. Besides, I need something to take to the king that doesn't involve direct disobedience from one of my men.

"Fine," I said. "You tripped – three times. Put that in your report to the king. But first, be sure it's the story you really want to stick with instead of a more plausible story like being ambushed. The way I see it, this dangerous orc attacked without provocation. You were forced to fight for your life. You stabbed him once, but it didn't stop the beast. You stabbed twice, but the orc kept coming at you. Finally, your third stab killed the aggressor despite your unwillingness to break the king's command. That's what it looks like to me."

"If the evidence points in that direction, who am I to say otherwise," the newbie said. "I mean, just between you and me, I did trip, but I'm not married to that story. A believable lie is better than an unbelievable truth."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, let's just hide this brute before the other orcs notice. The last thing we need right now is hundreds of accidental trippings."

We covered the body and eradicated all evidence of the incident. On our way back to the squad, we discussed our story, ensuring it aligned enough to be undisputed. While riding, I found the newbie had charmed me. His personality was infectious. It gave me an idea that could give me a powerful ally in the king's court.

"Have you ever thought about being a politician? Your capability to lie and your charismatic personality would take you high in the king's court. You're a natural."

"It is my dream one day, but alas, I'm just not enough of a lying, egotistical narcissist to be a respectable politician."

"Yeah, I see your point. But I have hopes for you."

"Thank you, sir. You're too kind."