“You warned me, I’ll admit it,” he groaned. “And now I’m suffering for it. That should make you happy. And the worst part? She wasn’t even that pretty. When she smiled, her teeth were all black. Probably from eating the sausage.”
The three soldiers laughed as Zenos mounted, grunting in discomfort.
“Ugh. I now know why so many people refuse to eat pork.”
“Poor Zenos,” said another corporal. “I guess this just proves you don’t have the guts to be a soldier!”
The three soldiers laughed as Zenos winced.
“Ha-ha. How long have you been waiting to say that?”
“About an hour!”
“If you want to see what kind of guts I really have, I can take you to the evidence,” Zenos hinted.
The corporal groaned. “I don’t want to be sick myself, Zenos. The look on your face is evidence enough.”
The three soldiers chuckled.
“At least the forest has fallen quiet again,” said the private. “Master Sergeant Neeks just sent out the word to bring all the extra patrols back in. Even the major’s given up and gone home. Nothing’s been moving for half an hour . . . except for Zenos’s bowels.”
The three soldiers roared in laughter, while Shem shook his head.
The stories he had to live with . . .
---
In the forest a mass of bodies walked—quietly—away.
Chapter 24 ~ “I’d rather fight
the current.”
“And how’s our patient this morning?” Brisack chirruped as he came into the grand bedroom.
“You know how much I hate that,” Mal grumbled.
“Yes, I do. That’s why I say it.” The doctor smiled as he set down his large bag on the side table and picked up the notes lying next to it. “My assistant who spent the night here said you were up very late again, reading. Now, what did we say about that?”
“If you don’t stop that condescending attitude and quit treating me like a child,” Mal whispered, “I’ll have you removed!”
“You and what army?” Brisack chuckled as he put down his assistant’s notes. “While you’re incapacitated, the High General reports to me. You know, he’s actually a rather pleasant man to deal with when you aren’t out to undermine him. We worked together quite well uncovering all the truth about those two lieutenants. Been a wonderful couple of weeks, I must say, and I thank you profusely for this opportunity.”
“Not one of my best ideas,” Mal muttered.
“Oh, I’m making a list of not your best ideas,” Brisack’s manner shifted sharply. “This isn’t going on it, though. So,” he said in his pleasant way again, “your appetite is returning, your color is better—I suppose I can allow you to resume some of your duties on a limited basis.”
Mal only grunted.
“Come on, Nicko. You know the routine. Wrist.”
Mal kept his arm firmly on the bed until the doctor stepped over and his snapped his fingers. Reluctantly the Chairman lifted his arm.
Instead of taking the proffered arm, the doctor instead grabbed the elaborate silk covers and threw them back with a flourish.
“Ohh . . . Nicko, just how old are you? Seven? Look at this mess!”
Mal groaned angrily as his stacks of notes—and even a quill with a small ink bottle—were discovered hiding in his massive bed which had doubled as his writing desk. The breeze caused by Brisack’s snatching of the blankets sent his piles into disarray, which Mal frantically tried to straighten again. Drops of black ink stained the creamy colored silk sheets in random patterns, as if the bed were bleeding blotchy words.
“What did I say about exciting your heart?” Brisack snatched up a stack of notes and pages before Mal could reach them. “Rest, not agitation.”
“This is restful!” Mal said, grabbing at the rest of the pages. “I’m bored to near insanity here.”
“What is this?” Dr. Brisack said, reading one of the parchments he snagged. “Messages? How many have you been sending out anyway?”
“Just a few,” Mal confessed, slumping down, already exhausted from his brief morning workout. “Just to give me something to do. Exceptionally dull being laid up, you know! I’ve been thinking, and—”
“I know what you’ve been thinking, Nicko.” Brisack sat down on a chair next to the bed. “When will you learn? The time’s not right, our methods aren’t yet perfected—”
“No, the right man can do it!” Mal insisted, struggling to an upright position and feebly fighting the half dozen pillows behind him. “I’m sure of it. Sonoforen was all noise and no matter. He mistook obnoxiousness for bravery. But Dormin—that boy was thoughtful and clever. He even snuck a visit to his brother over a year ago, and no one ever saw him except one of my Command School spies. He’s our man, Doctor! He has the brains, the motivation, the need—he could do it!”