A Tale of Two Cities

Lazarus pulled a petal off the small dandelion flower in between his index finger and thumb, he examined it. Sniffing it, taking in its tainted fragrance. He blew it away and continued to stare at the passing clouds. Lazarus lay on his back on the outskirts of the wheat fields. There was a small pasture just beyond the brush. Lazarus would take the livestock to these pastures early in the morning. He would watch the sunrise and wonder. On his back, he imagined he was flying with the clouds, traversing their thin matter taking no thought of expectations. The gravity of the decision he had to make threw him back into his body, his wonder dissipated.

                 “Laz! Laz! Guess what!” The annoying noise came from Tilly. He was a clumsy tall child with a new ailment daily. He ran to Lazarus fighting for breath.

                 “Tilly, you don’t have to holler everything.” Lazarus let out a sigh and rose to greet Tilly; who was out of breath by the time he reached Lazarus.

                 “Well, what is it? What’s the excitement about?” Lazarus questioned Tilly.

                 “They just got word. It’s going to be a war; we’re going to war with the Scepter clans of the West. I heard it from Ms. Lou whose daughter works in the palace.” Tilly blurted the words out. Lazarus fell to the ground, his mind searched for solace, a way to unhear what he just heard. There was no way out, no way to avert the thoughts. He thought of his father, but mostly the thought of death usurped his mind. Tilly was still talking about something or another, but all Lazarus could do was think about the war. The thought of deciding on a bride seemed juvenile compared to the decision he had to make about joining the war. It was less of a decision and more of expectation. He was expected to join the war efforts because of his last name, Warmonger. What was he to do? Go against his family? He couldn’t.

                 “…and capt’n Jeffers told colonel Hist that it was gonna be a blood bath because both the houses don’t like each other after the death of the Scepters Queen. No one knows…”

                 “Shut up! Stop talking Tilly! Please!” Lazarus couldn’t think he couldn’t take Tilly’s voice in his head too, there were already so many unwanted thoughts. Tilly looked like his feelings had been hurt. Lazarus couldn’t care about Tilly’s feelings too; the thought of death consumed him. The Scepters were known to cannibalize their captures and leave their heads on wooden stakes along the road. Lazarus was more of a lover than a fighter, his nature was the opposite of war. The fear rushed through his body as he thought of the war stories told by his older uncles and cousins. Lazarus tried to remember a story his father used to tell him as a child, but none came to him, he couldn’t even remember how his father sounded. The shame overtook the fear and Lazarus hung his head resting it in the palms of his hands.

                 “Oh you’re worried about having to join the war as a soldier.” Tilly finally understood the gravity of his words.

                 “Yea, I’ll be expected to join the war and fight bravely to the death if I must. But the thing is Tilly, what if I don’t want to die for some crown in a palace a hundred miles from here? What if I want to live, what if I want to find more beauty on this miraculous earth? Will they care about that, will my family care about my dreams or will they forsake them for the hopes of a king hundreds of miles away?” Lazarus cried out. Tilly looked at Lazarus with eyes that said a million words, but none came out of his mouth, instead he grabbed Lazarus and hugged him. They both embraced and cried out in hopes that God would hear their weeping and send help.

Joshua Hornsborn was being sized for new armor, as the prince Shaman he was expected to fight in large wars and be seen among the front line at battles. Joshua had trained all his life for a war like this, it will be his first, but he was ready to show his strength. He was mostly excited to impress his father, a man who is not easily impressed. Joshua looked at himself in the mirror. He saw the way his armor twisted as he gestured as if he held a sword. He felt powerful, he felt invincible. His father had sent the tailors with word that the fighting had begun, and Joshua was expected at the front lines once he was fitted with his armor. The mirror didn’t show the butterflies in Joshua’s belly, it didn’t show the fear that welled up in his heart. No, he was trained to show no weakness. Joshua had no close friends or people to confide these feelings to. So, the dialogue in his mind was also his greatest enemy at times. He worked hard to show no weakness, he trained harder than any of the other warriors mainly to cover the fear that bled from his heart.

                 “Is it to your liking sir?” The tailor asked looking at Joshua through the mirror.

                 “It’s perfect, I can move freely and it’s not too heavy. Thank you, Iris.” Joshua turned around to shake Iris’ hand. They exchanged pleasantries and Iris departed. Joshua was alone again, staring at himself in the mirror hoping that the fear usurping his body would not be the death of him. The time was near, he knew it.

                 “Are you ready sire?” Josue, one of the guards, asked Joshua.

                 “I am ready.” The words slipped from Joshua’s mouth without him even being conscious of speaking. Joshua’s mind was racing, he was mainly worried about making his father look bad. He was expected to kill during battle, this was to show the strength of the prince Shaman. One day he would be High Scepter Shaman, he had to exhibit his strength. He was taught its either kill or be killed, that was the mentality of the higher caste Scepter community. From a young age he was trained to fight, to be a bureaucrat, and most of all to be a leader. The time had come for Joshua to see the cost of war.

Lazarus sulked on the walk through the fields back home. His heart was heavy, and his mind was tired. Tired from thinking of ways to get out of this war, to find a loophole in the rules of family affairs. He didn’t want to go to war, he pictured his death more times than he was willing to count. By the time he reached his front door his spirit was already broken. His father stood inside. Lazarus looked into the eyes of that sullen man and knew he didn’t have a choice. He would serve his king in the war and die if he must.

                 Ms. Joy was there with her husband Mr. Herndon; they were the town craftsmen. They could build or make anything. Lazarus knew they were present to size and fit him for his armor. Lazarus wasn’t ready to die, he hadn’t yet lived. The thoughts were back, piling up in Lazarus’ mind. He looked at himself in the mirror and did not recognize the face staring back at him. A part of him wanted to weep, to cry out and curse God for making him die this way.

                 “Are you ready?” Lazarus’ father asked in a low groan.

                 “As ready as I’ll ever get,” Lazarus whispered quietly to himself.

                 “Soldier! I said are you ready?” His father asked, this time in a clear firm voice.

                 “Yes, sir!” Lazarus straightened his back and responded as he had been taught. His training would never be lost as it had become muscle memory. His training taught him how to obey orders and never show weakness. However, there were a thousand tears welling up in Lazarus’ heart as he looked at himself in the mirror. Instead of undamning those tears he beat his chest and followed his father out of the front door.

                 The fighting had already started before either Joshua or Lazarus arrived on the battlefield. Lazarus followed his father; he couldn’t understand how he was walking let alone carrying a sword. His heart pounded under that armor, his hands were sweaty, and he could feel his bottom lip quivering with each step toward the battle. They neared the fighting which was on a hill up Boulders Point. Colonel Leon, Lazarus’ father, looked back at his son and with a nod he turned back around and ran straight for the first Scepter he could find. Lazarus froze, for just a moment, he stood there watching men shove spears and axes into each other’s hearts. The moment had passed, and Lazarus ran, he ran toward some brush that lay outside of the fighting. He hid behind the brush laying on his back with his hand on his sword, he began to think of a way out of this suicide mission. He was surrounded by hills, he could just run, take shelter in the hills until he found a town. Lazarus could feel his mind running away from him, he closed his eyes and willed himself to take a deep breath.

 Joshua mounted his horse and secured his sword while he looked on at the crowd of people that gathered to see him off. There were a few townspeople, some noble caste people, and of course his father, the High Scepter Shaman. Joshua followed Josue and Josiah, his guardsmen as they rode slowly through the town so that the common folk could see their prince Shaman fighting for his people. This part of the battle was all for show, to show the people that even the king’s son must fight in war. Once they left the towns gates, they still had about a twenty-mile ride to reach Boulders Point. Joshua thought about what the battlefield would look like, how many men would be fighting, and most of all he thought about how it would feel to kill someone. This thought haunted his dreams, it even interrupted pleasant moments throughout his day. Could he kill someone? Joshua’s chest became tight, and his heart pounded under his armor. He could feel his hands slipping on the reigns from the sweat drenching them. Joshua looked up and he could see movement from people that looked like ants from his perspective. There was still time to worry about the future.

“I need to run for it.” Lazarus said aloud to himself. He still lay on his back behind the brush. Suddenly, he could see three horses approaching him from his right. Lazarus panicked he no longer had a choice; he would have to make a run for it before they spotted him. Without a second thought Lazarus leapt to his feet and began to run away from the three horsemen. He was too late, Josue spotted Lazarus running and took off after him. Joshua and Josiah followed, all three rushing toward Lazarus.

Lazarus was no match against the horses, Josue ordered Lazarus to stop running and drop his sword. Lazarus complied and begged for his life.

“Please, sir I’m just a child. I have yet to live, please let me go and I’ll never come back!” Lazarus pleaded with the three horsemen.

“Stop your begging! Die with honor.” Josiah unmounted from his horse and pulled his sword.

“Wait, let him do it. His father said he just needed three kills, right?” Josue said smiling back at Josiah and pointing at Joshua.

“I’ll be happy to do it. They eat their own babies. How many have you eaten? You’ll die for your sins.” Joshua said to Lazarus as he pulled his sword from its sheath.

“Please, take me as a prisoner, take me back to your lands and I will work. I will be no trouble.” Lazarus made one last plea for his life. Joshua walked up to Lazarus and placed his sword at his neck.

“Let me take him back to my father. You two go get those three kills for me,” Joshua said as he looked back at Josiah and Josue. They gave up a small fight but decided that Lazarus wouldn’t be any trouble for the prince Shaman. Josue and Josiah went on to Boulders Point to join in the fighting while Joshua shackled Lazarus.

“You can just let me go; I won’t ever show my face here again.” Lazarus said quietly.

“Shut up! You’ll be a nice prize to take back to my father, my people. They’ll have you tried for your sins there.” Joshua replied as he loaded Lazarus on his horse. Lazarus couldn’t think clearly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He always went somewhere after taking these deep breaths somewhere quiet and impartial to the world. Lazarus opened his eyes and knew he must get away from his captor.

“I have seven brothers and sisters; my parents work in the wheat fields. I’ve never eaten a baby. I have nieces and nephews.” Lazarus pleaded to Joshua.

“I heard it from a Scepters mouth once. One that was sentenced to death pleaded guilty to eating baby heads and picking his teeth with the bones.” Joshua stated plainly. Lazarus was running out of options, he couldn’t plead to this man, this man who denies his humanity for made up stories of cannibals. His last option became his only option. He would jump. Before Lazarus could make up his mind his body flung itself off the horse and tumbling down a hill. Lazarus couldn’t stop his body from rolling, he felt every rock, every mound of dirt. Finally, he stopped, he was sore and scarred but he was thankful to have survived. By the time Lazarus looked up Joshua came crashing into him, both men falling to the ground. Joshua rose quickly and grabbed Lazarus by his shackles, “You’re going to die for this.” Joshua pulled Lazarus closer, and, in that moment, Joshua felt like he could kill.

Both remained silent for some time after their skirmish. Lazarus couldn’t believe he was going to be tortured by the Scepters. All the history books spoke of the Scepter camps and the squalor they lived in. Surrounded by sex and murder. Lazarus didn’t dare speak of what he learned in school with his captor, the fear wouldn’t let him.

“We don’t eat babies. We care for our children.” Lazarus broke the silence.

“That’s not what I hear.” Joshua replied.

“Well let’s ride back to my province and I will show you.” Lazarus said hopefully.

“No, I will take you to my father and you can stand trial for your crimes.” Joshua replied.

“What crime have I committed sir?” Lazarus begged his captor for an answer.

“Killing babies and eating them. We sent spies into your province before we came to conquer, and their reports spoke of obscene acts in the streets and rampant violence.” Joshua spoke proudly.

“I killed no babies, and I am not a violent man. You found me hiding from combat, that should be proof enough.” Lazarus went on pleading.

“Well, if you didn’t kill them then you shouldn’t have anything to worry about.” Joshua would not be swayed.

“Just kill me here then, kill me now. I don’t want to be tortured by your people. I don’t want you to eat my body as it decays.” Lazarus cried out.

“Eat your body? We would never eat a corpse, who do you take me for?” Joshua replied confused. There was a silence between them. Both men’s minds wandered to their upbringing. Both thought of the stories they had been told as children and the beliefs that formed as adults. Both men were raised to follow in the footsteps of his father. Lazarus thought of his father. He didn’t know if he was alive or dead. He didn’t know if he would ever see his family again.

The men reached the gates of the Scepter’s land. Joshua gave a signal and the gates opened. Joshua’s heart beamed with pride as he rode through the village and to the palace. Joshua unloaded Lazarus from the horse and waved at the people as he escorted Lazarus down the stairs to the dungeons.

“They love you and hate me. I don’t understand, I haven’t done anything!” The perilousness of the situation gripped Lazarus’ heart as he cried out to Joshua. It didn’t matter, his words didn’t sway Joshua from throwing him in a dungeon and locking the door. Lazarus fell to his knees, his hands shackled, and tears fell on the concrete floor.

Joshua walked into his fathers’ quarters with pride spilling from his heart. “Father, I brought a prisoner to stand trial.” Joshua said.

“Stand trial? You mean you have brought a lamb for slaughter?” His father responded.

“No, you said all men stand trial for their sins.” Joshua spoke carefully.

“Trial is for people within these walls, son. Death is the sentence for those outside of them.” His father gave him a pat on the back and walked out. Joshua’s mind began to race, he began to think about the conversations he had with his prisoner. The fear of killing welled up in his heart again, this time it was the fear of having to kill thousands when he is made High Scepter Shaman. For the first time in Joshua’s life, he questioned his father’s decision and he felt powerless to change it. Joshua’s sword was clean, but he sentenced a man to death. Shame filled his heart and doubt gripped his mind. He could never have imagined how anguishing a feeling it was to kill another. A piece of Joshua was lost that fateful day, along with the life of Lazarus.