A shadow passed by the tent. Esrek jumped out from under his blanket. He forgot that he was no longer on his farm. Icy wind blew the flap open with a loud clap.
“It’s alright, Esrek.” Troeg’s voice was a whisper.
“What is it?” His heart was beating quickly.
“It’s over. We’re leaving.” his voice was calm but hushed. Hiding something. Neither a frown nor a smile on his face. He was strapping on his well-used uniform. Such an honorable and prideful uniform.
Troeg silently slipped out of the tent. He stood motionless in the yellow moonlight. His hand rested instinctively on the hilt of his sword. He appeared so majestic.
Esrek scrambled out, almost tripped. After regaining control he pulled a ripped and torn brown tunic over his head. He then looped a dark-blue sash over his left shoulder. The military sash of the great Kingdom of Kanta. Allegiance.
He gazed out into the campsite. Hundreds, no, thousands of men were weaving through the sea of tents. They were like ghosts silently moving away from the camp. They were leaving. He shivered.
“Where are they going?” his voice quivered, and cracked.
“Away from death.” He took a deep breath.
Esrek was silent. An emptiness formed in his stomach. Cold, he hugged himself.
“They heard the report from the only surviving scout.” Troeg answered his thoughts, “The enemy is unbeatable.”
A knot formed in Esrek’s throat. “So they’re leaving us?”
“Yes.” Troeg paused and unclipped his dark-blue sash. He held it for a moment, hesitating. Then without warning he threw the sash to the ground. A small cloud of dust rose and fell, lightly covering the dark-blue color of Kanta.
“What are you doing?”
“Don’t lecture me, Esrek.” He was still looking at the defiled sash, now tattered with splotches of brown dirt. He took a deep breath.
“You can’t leave me.” Esrek knelt to the ground and picked up Troeg’s sash in his shivering hands. “I never even killed a man. I need you.”
“I know what I’m doing.” He turned away from the sash.
“But … but, you’re the most brave swordsman I know.” Troeg stood silent for a moment. His breathing quickened. “Why leave?”
“How dare you call me a coward!” He snapped around, eyes narrow and focused. Esrek jumped backward, bringing his arms up to protect his face from Troeg’s towering gaze. “There’s no hope for this army! See? I want to live!”
Esrek dared not answer him.
“You won’t understand.” A minute passed. Two.
Esrek was shocked. Troeg was leaving his post. His duty. His honor in order to survive. Selfish. Yet, Esrek longed to agree. To desire life and liberty. But that’s what they were fighting for, wasn’t it?
“You coming?” Troeg’s voice was quiet and firm again.
“Where?”
“To them.” It was a whisper. A dark cloud covered the moon, pouring a dark, cold shadow over the camp. A sharp painful shiver ran up Esrek’s spine.
He couldn’t believe it. These men weren’t just running. Not only cowards. They were deserting their king only to back stab him. They were disgracing their wives, and their families.
Troeg too.
Greed for survival, or worse yet; a higher pay. They dishonor their families, and for what? A few extra gold coins?
Esrek choked, coughed, and spit sour bile onto the ground. Disgusted. How can Troeg do this? He disgraces even my family. For money and for fear, he has become my enemy. Tonight. My king’s enemy. My family’s enemy.
The dark cloud silently shifted, allowing the moonlight to pour onto the camp. Esrek could feel his heart beating faster. A single drop of warmth coursed through his torso, his legs, his head, his arms.
Esrek lifted his spear and gazed at it for a moment, hesitating. Then with a single movement he impaled Troeg just beneath his shoulder. He toppled over, yanking the spear out of Esrek’s shaking hands. Troeg’s face was twisted, in ruin, and strewn with hate and fear. A silent moment passed between them. Staring.
“I’m sorry big brother.” The tears began to silently glide down Esrek’s face. Silent as the procession of the deserters making their way to the east. Kneeling he cradled Troeg’s head in his quivering arms. “But my family comes first.”
Another sob.
“So sorry.”
This is really good. I like the first draft a lot too. One thing I would suggest for this draft is revamping the introduction. I'm not sure what Esrek's farm has to do with him jumping out of bed. I would either delete that line or expand on it so that it has more context. Other than that, I think it's really good. Especially the end. I find myself thinking back on this short story and how it ends whenever I let my mind wander.
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