The Chronicles: Notomol Ch. 11

I held the axe blade over a man's toe, while Giedra swung the hammer. Next to us, Rion and Eliv did the same.

We did it twice. Two men each. Four toes.

I nearly hurled again. The bile was burning my throat. But it was Eliv who couldn't continue. I stuck to it. Giedra went to help Rion, while Liesma came to assist me.

- "It's not that bad, Guenna." she said. "I grew up on a farm. Think of it like castrating a young steer, or a young stallion."

That didn't help. I was done after the third man. Six toes. I ceded my place to someone else. Liesma stayed on, to help them.

Now I heard the cries from several places. Some men screamed louder than others.

- "It had to be done, Guen." said Giedra.

She meant well, I know. Unfortunately, all it did for me was to bring up more of that burning bile into my throat.

Notomol insisted that we all participate, and that everyone take a turn, either holding the prisoners, or taking a turn at chopping their toes off. Only one man chose to have his hand severed - and that was atrocious. Blood spurted everywhere, and the man fainted from the shock. Someone had to hold up his arm - still spurting blood - and keep it steady for the man with the hot iron to seal the wound.

I thought, at first, that I would rather go through another battle than ever do something like this again. But Berilde, who had thrown up more than I had, put it into perspective.

- "Sarine didn't die today."

Seven Izumyrian soldiers lost a hand and a finger. Ninety-five lost both big toes. A round dozen were killed: ten died while resisting. Two died from loss of blood, because their wounds hadn't been properly cauterized.

Neither the Duchess nor Prosquetel were directly involved, but Notomol insisted that they watch. Apparently they didn't last very long. Iduallon and Gerimir had to do their part. I don't rightly know how many toes they severed.

Senderra and Evane did their bits. Orsho, too, though Nelime only watched. Mailis, as well, was only a spectator. But it was Giedra who put it best, from an Upland point of view.

- "No more prisoners." she said.

***

Notomol called on me two days later. We were still letting the mutilated prisoners recover before we set them loose.

- "I have a favour to ask." he said.

- "What is it?"

- "I'm sure you've noticed that there have been more fighters joining us of late."

- "Yes." It was hard to miss. It seemed as though there were three or four new faces in camp every single day.

- "On top of that, there are a number of non-combatants who want to take up arms. It won't be a problem to equip them, because of all the weapons we took from the battle. But ..."

- "But?"

- "There are a dozen women who want to fight, Guenna. Three of them arrived carrying their own weapons. The other nine came with the non-combatants. I was thinking that you and Giedra would do a better job training them than I would. That, and determining if it would even be worthwhile to train them."

- "You want Giedra and me to test them? And decide which ones are worth training? Because I can tell you now that they're all worth training. Even if they can't stand in the line of battle, like Liesma, or Dusca, there are a dozen things they can do. Use a bow, carry arrows, carry messages, kill wounded soldiers, or help our wounded to safety. It's just a matter of finding a task suited to their skills. I'll help train anyone you send to me - and I know that Giedra will, too."

- "Would you attach them to your company? Let them fight beside you?"

- "Yes. That too."

- "Good. Because we'll be fighting again soon. Sooner than you think."

***

We continued to feed the prisoners for the better part of a week. And then, just like that, Notomol sent them on their way.

One hundred and two Izumyrian soldiers, all of them missing a hand or toes, walked or hobbled out of our camp. Notomol allowed them to have a dozen knives, and three days' worth of food per man. If they were careful with it, they would arrive in Hvad town hungry, but alive.

Some of us pitied them. They did make quite a pathetic sight. I know that a few of our companions still regretted not having killed them all. For my part, I had mixed feelings. What we had done to them was cruel - but they were still alive.

Sarine wasn't. But most of my friends still were. We'd eliminated a hundred Izumyrian soldiers without losing lives on our side.

I put that out of my mind, though, because I had work to do. When the word went around that we would be training female fighters, another nine non-combatants asked if they could join us, while two more women turned up with their own weapons - bows, no less. They'd come out of Stonje.

- "How bad are things there?" I asked.

- "People will kill for food. Izumyrians, preferably. But other Hvadi, if they think there's food to be had." said one of them, named Krissika.

She turned out to be a reasonably good archer, according to both Giedra and Paksyalta. Krissika's friend, Aira, was more like me: she needed to be standing within ten yards of the broad side of the barn, if she was going to hit it.

Seven of the twenty-three women we tested turned out to be dangerous - to themselves, or to their companions. We could find other, non-combat work for them.

Five more were angry enough - or ruthless enough - that we could employ them as support fighters, despite their lack of fighting skill. They could tend to our wounded, or finish off enemy wounded - a task that appealed to them.

That left eleven who could fight. Three would make good archers; another three would make tolerable archers. That's to say that they were better than me, if not by very much. Four of the women could fight as Rion and Eliv did, in the second line. Even though they wouldn't last long in the front line, or in single combat with a trained soldier, they could contribute by supporting Liesma, or Dusca. And then there was Tota.

Tota wasn't tall, or big. But she was fast as lightning. She reminded me of Nameless, except that Tota had no qualms about telling anyone her life story. She'd been raped by Izumyrian soldiers, after they'd killed her parents. They decided to keep her, so that they could use her again. She killed two of her tormentors while they were asleep, and escaped.

She then joined a small group of Hvadi whom she mistook for rebels, fighting against the invaders. Instead, they turned out to be brigands, preying on their own people. She was raped again. She killed one of them, and escaped once more.

Tota found a crippled man, who had been a member of the Ban of Yelsa's household. He'd fought at the Battle of the Gut, where Duke Richwin was killed. When he learned what she wanted, the warrior offered to train her, in return for Tota gathering food - and occasional sexual favours.

- "Then I heard about Notomol." she said. "So I killed my trainer, and set out to find you."

- "Wait." said Giedra. "You killed your trainer?"

- "He made me have sex with him." said Tota. "The food should have been enough."

Tota was bizarre. But, as I said, almost preternaturally fast. Giedra and Liesma were very impressed. So was Notomol, when he came to see how we were progressing.

- "That's excellent." he said. "Even better than I hoped for."

I was beginning to recognize some of his facial expressions. He was pleased, but there was another, more important or more pressing matter on his mind. He wouldn't talk about it, though. Instead, he left Nelime and Orsho behind, so that they could tell us.

- "Gather all of your people." said Nelime. Her tone worried me.

- "Bad news?"

- "Could I tell everyone at the same time? I'd prefer to not have to repeat it."

Between the Uplanders and the new women, there were almost fifty of us. It took a little while to gather everyone. All that time, Nelime wouldn't meet my eye. She simply looked down at the ground. Orsho's face was unreadable. Bad news, I thought.

When we were all there, Nelime began to speak.

- "The prisoners reached Hvad town." she said.

- "Oh." That sound slipped out of my mouth.

- "The Izumyrians were shocked. So were the townspeople. They didn't know what to make of this." said Nelime. "Two days later, Duke Beghel reacted. He had another dozen prisoners taken from the dungeons - men who had fought in the castle garrison. He -"

Nelime had choked up. She couldn't continue.

- "He had their hands and feet chopped off." said Orsho, taking over for her. "Then he had them hanged, with blood pouring from their wrists and ankles. A guslar arrived last night, to tell us of it."

That wasn't all. From both of their expressions, I knew that there was worse to come.

"The Izumyrian Duke sent his soldiers to the dockside areas. The boatmen had not been serving the town. The soldiers rounded up their families - women and children, and a few old men. They were taken to the scaffold, and ... and their hands and feet were cut off. The guslar said that this was done ... to over sixty people."

The men and women behind me didn't make a sound. We didn't know these people. We weren't directly connected to them. But I believe that we were all profoundly shocked.

Yes, we had been cruel. But would it have been better if we had quietly murdered our prisoners, and buried them in the woods, never to be found? Those men could have disappeared. Would the Izumyrian Duke have cared?

He'd taken his revenge - on prisoners, and then on women and children. Again.

*****