The War Cry of the Lost (Part 1)

I panted, gasping for air. The humidity mocked me with its heaviness as my lungs tried to pull in as much air as possible.

Despite the agony I felt in my chest, I made sure my breathing was even. Concentrate, Evan! I told myself.

My opponent looked at me, his sword ready for anything, even as his arms shook and sweat gathered at his hairline. His eyes were what struck me the most, though. They were big and yellowish-brown and ready. His mouth was pursed in determination and concentration; his tenseness rolled off of him in waves.

Suddenly, I feinted right then slashed at his left. He saw through my feint and blocked my real stroke. His sword clashed against mine, the ringing music of steel on steel made dense by the humidity. I gritted my teeth and lunged again, this time for real. He blocked again!

We cut through the atmosphere with a series of lunges, slashes, blocks, and sword patterns. If I could see it from the outside, it would probably look like a dance.

This game went on for another ten minutes before we gave in to the unyielding discomfort that the sun was bearing on us. 

“Good game, brother.” Polin grabbed my wrist in the sacred warrior’s handshake.

I nodded to him. “And to you as well.”

Suddenly, he broke into a grin. Despite my sweat-drenched shirt and the heavy sword in my hand, I couldn’t resist smiling back at him. He slapped my back and we walked to the camp.

As we walked through the camp, it was evident that we were losing the battle between weather and man. Even our best men were lazily fanning themselves, their bare feet resting on their discarded boots. None of the men wore shirts either, which was unsurprising. I couldn’t blame them.

Polin was about as surprised as I was. Of all the days we had been on campaign, today was the hottest yet.

We reached our shared tent and Polin and I shuffled inside. We took off our sweat-soaked shirts and Polin asked me, “Hey Evan, what day is it?”

I shrugged. I could barely remember myself. This campaign had been going on for weeks and it seemed like it would be fruitless. The Hygri hadn’t even declared war with us, so why were even waiting for the battle to begin? In my personal opinion, King Tulio sent us out here because he was scared that the Hygri would attack and take away his throne. He was paranoid. I didn’t let them take his throne because I had taken an oath. It was the only thing preventing me.

Polin sat down on his mat and took a huge swig of his whisky. “Hey, don’t drink all of that now,” I told him, “or you won’t have enough for later.”

He shrugged it off, as he always does. He’s a good soldier, but a prideful man.

I sighed and wriggled into a clean pair of pants, not even bothering to put on a shirt. “Well, all these lazy soldiers doing nothing, there’s probably some task that needs to be done. I’ll be near the kitchens if you need me.” Polin waved me away and I crawled out of the tent.

The air was even heavier outside of our tent if that was possible. The mosquitos were having a good day, landing on every soldier who sat still. They barely noticed the little blood-sucking demons.

I had the oddest urge to laugh at that minute detail.

I headed towards the camp kitchen, which sat in the exact center of the camp. “Yelena!” I called. “I’m here to help. Got any chores for me?”

The old woman appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “Finally! Someone willing to help this poor old woman! All you lazy war boys doing nothing in this heat.”

I grinned at her and she continued to give me a stern look. Her right eyebrow was raised almost to her receding hairline. 

“Well, I volunteer. Happy?”

She huffed and shoved a pot into my hands. “Here, fill this with water and set it to boil. Then, peel potatoes.” She hobbled off, but I caught her little smirk, just before she turned away. 

I passed a cooking fire--which had been reduced to a heap of ash--and walked over to the well on the opposite side of the camp. I splashed my face with the first bucket I pulled up, attempting to ward off the humidity that was still trying to creep under my skin. I shivered as I dropped it back down then pulled it up again.

Finished filling the pot, I walked back over to the camp kitchen. Several young women, volunteers, were putting on aprons or washing foodstuffs. I smiled eagerly, I had anticipated this.

One of the girls waved at me. I placed the pot next to one of the cookfires as a girl with blue-black hair set about to restart it. Then, I headed towards the woman who had waved.

Her familiar blue eyes were somewhat melancholy today. I got lost in their ocean depth as my heart started to skitter about my chest. She cleared her throat and it was like I was pulled back into my own body. Back to reality.

“Good day, Lilla.”

She smiled at me and my heart skipped a beat. “Good day, Evan.” When she said my name, it was like heaven was calling me. And she was the angel messenger.

I shook my head to try and distract myself, but my heart told me that it was no use. I had come here just to see her.

I sat down across from her as her smile slowly faded away. I picked up a potato from her pile and began to peel. 

There was something off about her. Maybe it was the way she looked at me, or the way her hands shook when she tried to peel her potato. It was also the silence that echoed around her; Lilla was nothing if not talkative.

“Lilla, you won’t get mad at me if I ask you what’s wrong, will you?”

Her beautiful smile only briefly flashed across her face. She tucked a strand of her white-blond hair behind her ear and bit her lower lip. Her hand lingered by her ear.

“Well . . . Evan, it’s just that . . . Ugh!” She groped for words, as though she was grabbing them and inspecting them before finally deciding to throw them away. 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her eyes opened and I sighed inside, pure ecstasy. How I loved her eyes!

“My sister is ill, Evan. I’ve no idea what to do!” She suppressed a sob that pulled me out of my half-dream state. I didn’t know what to do when a girl cried.

She looked at me with watery eyes, expectant. I gave her my most sympathetic look, but it made her lower lip quiver even more. Trying not to groan at myself for being an idiot, I moved to sit next to her. I opened my mouth to correct my actions, but the ground started to tremble violently. I shook, the table shook, Lilla shook, even the water in the pots shook.

Soldiers all around me were pulling on their boots and grabbing their swords.

“What’s going on?” There was no fear in Lilla’s voice, only sharp demand. She grabbed my shirt, her blue eyes suddenly fiery and determined. “Evan, go. They need you.”

I only hesitated one moment before jumping up. I joined a throng of sword-wielding soldiers. 

“What’s goin on?” I asked one of them.

He turned to me, his eyes wide. “The Hygri! They’ve declared war!”

Part 2 will come out with next week's prompt.