Day 95: Today we suffered an enormous loss. The Golden Pride marched into battle with a proud eighty-five men as the sun rose high, and sagged dejectedly as the sun fell down with a crestfallen seven left. The Pride had never seen such a loss of life. Lionel told us that we should consider ourselves lucky. For seventy eight to have died and seven to have lived means hilariously long odds, and somehow us having beaten them is a feat to be sure. Damon believed it was God rather than luck, which started a fight among his brothers. “How could a benevolent God have forsaken them so” they cried, hurling insults, rocks, and their balled fists at the poor shock riddled man.
Of course the fighting broke, no man could be so foolish as to lose so many brothers and then try to lose one more, but the sentiment was still there. They all felt left behind, ruined, forgotten. Every soldier out here had the gift of returning to their homeland, meeting their final destiny, but not us. We had been told, barked at, paraded to that dying for your country was the most noble sacrifice you could commit, and no man brave enough to die for his country could ever face eternal damnation. No man ever wanted to die, but on a field so crowded with annihilation it numbered greater than the blades of grass it felt like a mistake to have survived. Everything around them was gone, even the things they carried. Their blades had gone dull, their armor chipped and shattered. Food reserves had gone short and wine no longer tasted the same. Cuts, bruises and scrapes littered the faces of the broken boys before me and I had no choice but to be their fearless leader one last time.
“Come now…” I told them, sheathing my blade. “There will time for mourning, wallowing and bickering. For now, there is time for nothing but progress. The end of the valley is but two more miles. Can we stand another two miles?”
None of them had the strength left to speak for themselves. They all had to rely on each other for strength. Their eyes bounced brother to brother, daring each other to be the one that speaks up and says yes. Silence reigned supreme for long enough for me to just about lose up, but finally I heard one quavery voice call out “we can.” I address this brave brother and find it to be none other than Zane, who I had previously written off for dead. The man’s spite kept him alive, a true miracle. He stood shattered and listless before our weary eyes, with his sheath splintered and his nose bleeding, yet a daring stare to his eyes that said “tell me to go home. Make me fight one more time. I dare you. I beg you.”
I set my differences behind for Zane and nodded at him, hoping he would do the same.
“Then two more miles we will go. Come along men, before the sunlight is gone.”
They walked without a word. They marched, adjusting themselves to stop their armor from clinking. They took great pains to not step on the bodies of their brothers or their enemies, paying respect to the men strong enough to injure the Pride.
The end of the valley met with a river, where the men bathed, drank, and restored what little humanity they could spare. We were able to make fire, but without our tents I would be loathe to call it a camp. It was refuge. Momentary, ramshackle intrenchments dug in the earth with our bare hands, rescuing us from wind sweeping off the plain and sheltering us slightly if rain dared to fall. We hadn’t the strength to watch for wildlife, we only had the strength to pray. God would protect us as we slept, and if he didn’t, then perhaps we really were meant to come home today.
I write this journal with all hopes of survival. I write it as well to leave one final message to whoever finds my corpse. A message I don’t have the courage to say out loud.
My father was right. The entire war is pointless. So much death has befallen us…and when I think about the number of deaths dolled out by the pride as well as the ones suffered to it…I just wish I had realized it sooner. I won’t turn back now. I cannot do that to my men. We’re close to accomplishing what we wanted, and the dessert will belong to us completely. I may only have seven left, but war has proven these seven to be the strongest. Or the most cowardly. Either way, the rest won’t take long.
I’m going to attempt to sleep now. If my little pup ever finds this, know that I love you more than I have ever loved anything. You are all I can think about and you are the only way I get through this. Good night. I will see you in my dreams.