Dog soldiers
#3 of Dogs of War
The mink was roused by the careful nudging of someone's hand on her shoulder. The nurse's outfit crinkled from the movement. Her eyes opened slowly. She could see the distasteful color of the lemon sheets. She knew it had happened. Powerful arms wrapped around her gently. She sighed in the embrace. The light filtered dimly through her half closed eyes. The stench of tacky blood assaulted her senses. Her eyes sprang open. She saw the green of an army uniform, and could smell the starch of the newly washed fabric. The powerful arms gripped her, holding her as she was carried out. Morgan returned several minutes later, his face was set in stone, cold, and impassive. A tear streaked from the corner of his watery eyes. He looked down. Someone had tried to make a job of cleaning up the clotted blood. The sticky substance spread out farther on the tiled floor. He held a crinkled paper note in his hand. "Damn it Lucian." He clenched the paper in his balled fist. He hung his head. "Bloody command!" Lucian's fur was limp and lifeless; the revolver was lying forlornly under the night stand. He knew his body would be quickly cleaned and disposed of in the form of a burial. He had come as soon as he had heard. The doctors found the mink laying on the bed and Lucian dead on the floor. Morgan lifted the paper in his fist, sighing as he unraveled the crinkled paper. The elegant spidery writing laced the page. Tears fell and rolled across the page as he read the writing shakily. * * *
The Note---- I never fully accepted that I had killed a man that day. A corporal and I still had not killed someone. I watched him die rather than shooting across a battle field. I was too caught up in my hatred. I suppose I'll find out if I'll go to hell or not for that. That day I did not think, I only reacted. I know that is no excuse for my actions. I'm sorry for the trouble that I must have caused for you, Morgan. You were more like a father to me than my own father. I apologize for what I am about to do. I apologize for everything that had happened to you because of my own mistakes. I wish I was strong enough to carry on. Please. Don't waste your time on me. I never realized now how lucky I had been that one morning. I guess there was a reason to turning down all those females you introduced me to. I did not expect to end it this way. I hope you can forgive me. I remember that day very well. I was waiting outside the hospital. * * *
The battle
(Future) The skies were dull and lifeless, the smoky clouds flashing with distant gunfire. The dark clouds billowed and rolled with far reaching winds, the bitter cold etched into the stagnant air. Rain fell down on the horizon with distant thick sheets drenching the rolling brown hills into dark pits of slippery mud. Trees were blackened and destroyed under now silent cross fire. Far on a distant dry hill a lowly precession of cars drove over the mud drenched roads. The black warped tires making sheets of brown water spew from the wheels. The dark green mud speckled sides of the forlorn trucks held heavily cramped men. Each man pressed to the sides of the truck, holding on tightly as the behemoth ran through a deep rut in the road. The helmets sat on nervous heads, ears flicked back and forth apprehensively, hearing the shouts of gun fire cut through the still air, the distant echoes hitting the trucks as they made their way towards a decadent village, deep shadowed gashes sliced through the stone work of the old houses. Sandbags were stuffed in the walls, taking the place of the rubble that fell from the aged walls. The stone work was bullet ridden, as though woodworms had infested the house. Distantly the faint sunlight peered through the shadowed darkness, glistening off the old blood that lay splattered across the wall. Lucian stood, emotionless, expressionless as they neared the target. He forced himself to remain still. Standing next to James, as close as they dared get. The air was silent, the calm before the battle. The flanks of the enemy lines were less guarded today. They were to drive around the trenches, riding the coastal roads and cities till they would near the enemy lines. From there they would drive off road and move on foot to the enemy lines. It was to be the crushing blow, it would cause the enemy trenches to crumble and force their forces to retreat. It would be the first step towards the end of the war. Lucian sighed, unsure of the fate ahead of him, terrified, but not of the expected death. He cast gentle side glances to James, watching him shudder and shiver in nervous fear and bitter cold. He looked up at Morgan's unwavering face, set in emotionless stone, his eyes piercing the hearts of the squad. Lucian had not bothered to learn first names; he knew merely a list of commands and titles. "We'll be with the allied recon point in ten..." The voice was cut off. The sound of shrieking metal filled the air. * * *
=Outside the medical barracks=
(Story present) Lucian's ears perked up suddenly, hearing the mud squelch in the corridor that led to the barrack's medical area. The smell of the trenches slowly grew more unbearable the closer he got to the medical tents, infection and screams oozed through the air. He luckily found the one sheltered waiting area that blocked the noise from the tents. Chairs stood strewn through the room, the metal legs rusted and encased in slopped mud. He could smell the lingering scent of mildew within the mud walls. Lucian looked up; a small mink nurse rounded the corner. She blushed as his eyes met hers. She was clutching a clipboard to her dainty pristine nurse's outfit. Lucian let his head slip back down to his arms, staring at the flowing mud that churned between his boots. He heard her come closer. He could hear the softness of her breathing. The wet odor from the mud over powered any scent of perfume she wore. "Ahem." Lucian looked up at the mink's cough. "You can see him now." She spoke quietly beneath a heavy blush. Her clipboard was pressed tightly against her. Lucian's ears stood straight upright. He leapt from his seat, nearly running, before he forced himself to regain his composure. "Thank you... I...How is...." Lucian began; he was relieved to hear that he could see James. His worry strangled his words before he could say them. "He's fine. Physically. A little bruised and cut... He won't say a word to anyone." Her eyes were tearful with sorrow. "He's young...." She stated and asked, her voice betraying a motherly pain. Lucian did not answer; he simply stared towards the medical barracks. "I'll take you to him." She replied with a strangled sigh. She turned with a quick twisting step, and walked solemnly towards the heavily lit barracks. They walked in silence, the mink slight ahead of him. Lucian stared gloomily at the floor. He was worried about James, and about Morgan. Worried that Morgan would be forced to execute him. He knew the tiger would rather disobey orders than kill him. And then James would be left alone, in his squad. His ears twitched. Lucian looked up. The mink was watching him. "What?" He asked, looking at her face he guessed he had missed what she said. "He did say one thing." Her voice was worried, and concerned. "What...?" "He asked for you... after he woke up in the bed." "He...." Surprised, Lucian stared at the mink, his footsteps faltering as he lost his pace. "He woke up about an hour after he was carried him here..." There was a hint of wonder in her voice. "I carried him." He replied slowly, not wanting to say more. They continued in silence, passing several corridors and countless filled beds. They rounded on a door that stood apart from the others. It was a converted storage room. They were short on spaces. "We gave him a single room... given his... injuries." Lucian smiled at her kindness. "Thank you... I'll." He did not finish before the mink gave him a blushing smile and opened the door. She stepped to the side and let Lucian pass though. James was lying on his side, staring at the wall. His fur was ruffled in dirty patches; his ears were pinned against his head. Lucian sighed; he felt another spark of hatred for the nameless soldier. The room stank of cleaning agents and heavily covered antiseptics. James was curled up in the lime green covers; he clutched a tear soaked edge to his muzzle. The latch on the door clicked quietly behind him as the mink closed the door. Lucian watched quietly, feeling a pang of guilt, he should not have picked him up from the bus, he should have waited. If he was not early that day then James would not be like this. He sighed loudly before opening his mouth to speak. "I'm sorry." it was all he could say, all he wanted to say. He took a hesitant step towards James's bed. "I'm..." "Lucian?" James tried to roll over to see who was speaking. He winced as he moved onto his back. He rolled onto his other side with a pained sigh. His eyes were filled with emptied tears. Lucian took another step quickly, kneeling next to the bed. James looked away from Lucian's eyes. Shame clearly marked on his face. He looked down over the bed at the tiled floor beneath. Lucian reached out a hand, laying it across the fox's shoulders. "Hey..." He felt the fox shudder underneath the hand. "You're going to be just fine." He wanted to say more, he wanted to comfort James. He did not want to say he shot the dragon. James looked up, the tear streaked fur rippled with fresh sorrow. He stared for a moment at Lucian's golden eyes. Lucian stared into James's deep blue eyes. James slowly wrapped his arms around Lucian's shoulders. Pulling his closer. Lucian held the fox, he felt James rest his head against his neck. The fresh tears coursing onto his fur. The warmth slowly spread. Lucian sighed, taking a deep breath as he did. He could smell James, the sweat and toil gave him a deep soft musk. He could feel James against him; he could feel he wanted James. James was the one who broke the embrace. He leaned out of it, pressing back till he could see into Lucian's golden eyes. The black pupils were colored with sorrow, joy and grief. He leaned forward. The stench of the antiseptics was finally broken by Lucian. His fur smelt of the life in the war. The grief, the solitude among the crowd, the loveless life surrounded him, carried upon him like a banner. James leaned forward, closing his eyes slowly. Their lips met. Lucian leaned forward, pulling James closer. He tasted James, he wanted him. He felt a vulpine tongue press against his lips. Their breath mingled in the warming air. Lucian's eyes shot open. He saw James's eyelids as his muzzle was pressed against his own. Lucian broke the kiss. He leapt up. James slipped forward, nearly slipping from the bed. The fox managed to catch his balance before he toppled. Lucian stood, breathing hard, his eyes widening, his arms out against the air. James looked up, his eyes welling up with pain and with hurt. He slowly pushed himself back into the bed, his head cast away from Lucian. His eyes welled with new tears. Lucian sighed. He looked up at James, wanting to hold him again. He could not force his limbs to move. "I..." Lucian began, he could not think of what to say. "I need some air... I'll see you later." James did not reply. Lucian was not sure if he lied or not. He stepped outside, leaning against the door with a deep sigh as he closed it. "Lucian." A sweet bubbly voice called out from beside him. "Elizabeth." Lucian replied to the mink that had led him to the ward. "And I was almost sure you had forgotten." She replied with a pained smile. "How is he... does he respond to you?" "Yes... um... we... talked.... for a bit." "Good... But there is one problem." Lucian turned to the mink. "Yes?" He asked, a hint of worry seeping into his voice. "I know how it sounds... James... as you know the beds are scarce." He could guess what she was about to say. "They are saying he is not injured enough to be sent home." Lucian rounded on the mink. "What! He was bloody raped! And you're telling me he is not hurt!" Elizabeth frowned at him. Lucian took a deep breath. Anger seethed within him. How could they deny him leave? He was bloody injured! "I'm sorry." He added after a moment's thought. "I know how you feel... it's just that there isn't room and he needs a bed... I don't think the barracks would be good." "He can stay with me." "Really?" Lucian watched the words leave his throat, the suddenness surprised him. He almost wanted to believe that someone else had said the words. Perhaps Morgan. Morgan's spare room was already occupied, by his fiancée. "I'm a corporal." He replied. She looked at him curiously. "The spare room came with the rank... nobody's using it. He thought for a moment. With sudden realization why it was common to take let a female into your rooms. It was simply about protection. The women wanted protection from the men who knew that they could die at any day. The men were happy to protect, some becoming loving couples, others simply finding a means to an end. He knew how it would look to the others. The slurs he could stand. They were common in England. He did not exclude himself from the gangs who targeted those different. There was one difference. He hoped. That he had joined because of his fear, rather than out of hatred. Morgan would believe him. "I'm going to be out most of the day." He added. "Field work and patrols with the squad." He lied. "Could you find someone to move his things into the spare room? I doubt he wants to go back to the barracks." He added with a slightly pained smile. He would find Morgan and hope that he understood his ideas. He hoped that Morgan would not mind. He knew gossip flew through the camps like a wild fire. * * * Morgan was pacing in the mess hall. A cup of cold tea sat stonily on the table nearest to him. His hands were clasped behind his back. His thick eyebrows were furrowed in rage and thought. Morgan spotted Lucian standing in the opening of the pavilion. His fists shook as he marched up to him. His eyes were bloodshot. He stormed forward. Coming toe to toe with Lucian. He raised a fist, pointing a finger at Lucian. He grunted heavily before twisting and pacing backwards. He stamped back towards the table with the icy tea, before storming back to Lucian. He was face to face with Lucian and raised a fist again. His eyes narrowed with barely restrained anger. The fist landed against Lucian's cheek with a jarring thump. His jaw rattled from the force of the blow, his teeth hummed, pain speared through his head. The blow knocked Lucian down, his legs slipping from underneath him. He dropped onto the soft mud. Morgan raised another fist to strike again. Nobody intervened, everyone knew better. Morgan stormed back to his tea again. His steps seething with hurt anger. Lucian watched, rubbing his stinging face in disbelief. Morgan slammed his tea onto the table, be rested on the table. His thick muscled arms supported him. The stained white table legs dug into the mud. He sighed, taking a deep breath. "Why...why?" He slammed his fist on the table. "Why why why!" He shouted as he snarling trampled over the mud back to him. "You killed him!" Morgan shouted. A crowd slowly gathered enough courage to gather. "The captain has to kill the culprit!" He shouted. A tear dripped along his eye. "Why would you do that! And force me to kill you!" He bellowed. Lucian slowly stood up. Morgan slammed a palm into his chest. Forcing the air from his lungs. Lucian gasped on the ground. "I'm not done yet." He snarled, the whites of his teeth shone through his black lips. "You're a son to me." His voice was softer now. "Don't you never do anything like that to me!" Lucian stared up at Morgan, dumb struck. "Sorry..." He offered. "You're sorry!" Morgan growled. "I suppose it's all alright then, now you're sorry." He stepped menacingly closer. "Do you know what I had to do to get them to not kill you?" "He was being raped." Lucian found himself yelling. "And you want me to stand there and do nothing!" He snarled. "Or would you rather me join in!" He snapped. Morgan stared at him, rage seething in his eyes. His hands curled into fists and uncurled. Lucian hefted himself upright. Morgan made no motion to force him back down. The crowd watched in tense apprehension. "Why do you care if I die?" He snarled, matching Morgan's. "You're just my captain, you don't care who lives of dies. I'm just another soldier to you." He shook his fist at the tiger. "Just another lamb to the slaughter." Morgan shot him a murderous glare. The rage replaced with sadness. "If that's the way you think I feel." His voice was low, barely loud enough for Lucian to hear. Morgan turned. "No... I didn't mean." Lucian reached out with a hand, trying to stop Morgan from walking away. Morgan shrugged the hand off. He hurt the tiger. He had watched over him his entire army life and now he had spat in his face. Morgan slowly walked away. His head hung low. His tail hung limply in the air. The crowd parted around him, letting him pass through seamlessly. The crowd watched him, as the tiger slowly walked away, the mud squelched loudly as he walked. The muddy stagnant waters stank, the stench clung to everything. Lucian watched Morgan; he let his hand fall dejectedly to his side. He looked down the path that Morgan had walked down. He felt the eyes of the crowd fall on him. The glares and stares of apprehension burrowed into him. Lucian twisted, pivoting on his heel. He walked solemnly out the south entrance of the pavilion. He needed to think.
- * * The mud slopped lazily as he traipsed through the brown sludge. The wooden planks sank into the blood soaked earth. 'I did not mean what I said to Morgan, I just wish I knew what to say.' Lucian walked slowly, his boots causing rats to scurry and chitter at him from the dark crevasses. 'I never knew I was like a son to him, I wasn't even a son to my own father.' Lucian kicked at a chunk of wood that stuck out from the path planks. The mildew coated wood snapped in an explosion of foul smelling damp dust. 'I tried to be like my father, I tried to impress him. He never thought I was any good.' Lucian sighed, he knew he had brought his problem on by himself; he could never blame his father for everything. 'I never thought I was any good.' He had proven that idea to himself with Morgan. He wanted to prove himself to Morgan, prove that he deserved his rank. 'All I proved here was that I can hurt two people in less than a day.' He felt hatred burning inside him, not at the dragon, but at himself. 'It's my fault he was raped.' He could not avoid his thoughts changing to James. The way he looked at him when he broke the kiss. It was as though he had branded him. 'I can't love him, it's not right.' Everything his father had taught him had shown that the idea was wrong. It did not stop the desire for the fox. Lucian looked up, his foot kicking at another moldering chunk of wood. He had managed to walk back to his small quarters. The door was slightly ajar, he could hear movement within. He wondered who Elizabeth had roped into carrying the trunks. As far as He could tell the fox had little to no personal belongings. The room did have a desk at least. In case the fox wanted to use it for anything. Lucian nudged the door open with his fingers. He spotted an orange tail disappear behind the side door frame. The black tip of the tail still peaked out from behind the door frame. "The rooms are not much." Lucian announced, he watched the tail tense suddenly. "But here is better than elsewhere." He added lightly. Before kicking himself, worrying if the words brought back the barracks to the fox. He also wanted to forget about what he had said to Morgan. He wanted to apologize to him. The fox within the room did not reply. He slowly walked up to the room. He stopped outside the door frame. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "I'm sorry for what I said..." He winced at his own words. "I mean I'm sorry for what I did." He watched at the tail shifted slowly, the black tip sliding on the door frame. "I did not want to act like that... it's just that." Lucian sighed; he knew his father's morals were not an excuse. "I was kind of surprised." He smiled lopsidedly, hoping that the fox would respond. "I hope I did not hurt you... I..." he did not what to finish the sentence, worrying about what it would mean to him. he felt a brief spark of panic when the idea that it might not be James in the room. James slowly came into view. He was walking painfully awkward. His cheeks were still damp, his eyes tired and red. "Don't worry." James gave a pained smile. He had been crying recently. Lucian felt a pang of guilt. The moment of silence extended. Lucian's eyes slowly watched the fox. James was leaning against the doorframe, the pose did not suit him, and his façade did not suit him. He could tell James was near to tears already. "Thank you..." His voice was soft, pleading and grateful. "For the room... I did not want to go back." Lucian slowly took a step forward, wanting to comfort the fox. He could tell the fox wanted to ask him something, there was a longing in his deep blue eyes, a longing for a fearful answer. "You carried me... to the infirmary..." James sighed. "Yes... I did." "Why?" "Why I carried you?" "No... Why did you care?" The question caught Lucian. James had shifted his arms, gently hugging himself. "You were being raped..." Lucian wanted to avoid the word, he shouted at himself as James winced from the word. "I could not stand there..." He wanted to say he wanted to be with the fox. Not to have him, but to be with him. James looked down at the floor, his eyes seeing their own answers. Lucian could tell the answers were expected but hurtful. "The nurse... she said you killed... him." James looked up; he was trying hard to bite back the tears. "You killed him because you dislike rape." "I killed him... but because..." Lucian swallowed; he had to say what he wanted. "Because I... could not stand him raping you... I don't want..." Lucian looked away, ashamed of himself for what he had said. The morals that had been branded into his bones burned. He could hear his father's hateful voice. "I don't want anything to happen to you." Lucian's voice was coarse, and quiet. James looked up, surprise, relief and joy plan across his woe stricken features. He nearly ran at Lucian. Wrapping his arms tightly across the wolf's chest. Lucian managed to get his arms above the hug before they were pinned. He felt James gently nuzzle his chest. Lucian slid his arms down, around the fox's shoulders. Lucian was not sure how to react. He slowly pushed the fox's head away from his chest. "I suggest you begin unpacking you things." He looked through the door frame. Trying to break the silence that had formed. "I'll move the bed for you..." He smiled at the fox. He sighed. He felt the fox remove his arms form his sides. "Yeah..." The voice sounded almost dejected. Lucian strode forward, walking into the room. James watch, apprehensively from behind him. The small trunk was open, nothing had been unpacked, there was pitifully little within the uniform green box. Clothes and various other uniform pieces. The contents hardly filled the chest to half full. James stepped up behind Lucian, following his gaze from over his shoulder. Lucian did not mention the chest. He stepped up to the bed propped against the wooden wall. It was a small cot, not unlike the army issued ones. He quickly pushed the trunk to the side of the room, much to James's relief. The cot itself was an iron and mesh frame, covered with a dark green sheet. It was light enough to be lifted, but large enough to be unwieldy. "We'll be having a night shift tonight." Lucian set the cot down on the dusty floor boards. "I'd be trying to get a decent sleep before that time." His squad would have a large area to cover, and a painfully long time to wait in the cold dark. A fresh volley of artillery sounded from behind their trenches. Lucian waited till the sound had died down. Faintly booms echoed across no-man's-land. He spread a thick wooly sheet across the cot. "It's dark enough to be night in here without the candles." Lucian added. Another volley of artillery answered theirs. The booms echoed through their trenches, but all of the blast fell within no-man's land. "Night watch isn't fun." The position was every Thursday and Saturday on their flank. "You'll understand when you're out there." Lucian sighed, he stepped out from James's room. "I'll wake you up when it's time." He announced, he walked towards his own bed. A small wooden cot, slightly larger than the metal issued ones. A lone candle spilled light into the room; the lights had already been switched off. They were rarely on at night. Lucian cupped his hands and forced a breath to snuff the candle. The thin wisp of smoke rose from the candle stub. His bed was cold; the same damp chill as the beds in the barracks. He could smell the mildew scent that was stained into the trenches. Now mixed with the peculiar new scent of the woolly blanket. He heard the metal bed creak as James hopped into the covers. He did not want to sleep, not yet. He was worried. Fearful of what he had said to James, every bone in his body screamed against his words. Yet something else drowned them. He felt a knot of guilt, guilt for what he had done to James, and what he had said to Morgan. It was cruel. He was beginning to look at the night watch with apprehension, although he wanted to go just to apologize to Morgan. Machine guns flared into life, spitting red hot streaks of light across no-man's-land. The bullets punctuated the fading light. He heard James shift on his metal cot. Silence echoed through the trenches. A lone bird cawed. Before the silence was once again shattered by the bellowing guns. He heard a small cough sound form somewhere above him. Lucian looked up, straining his eyes in the dark. "It's me... I... uh..." James stammered. He was nervous, fearful and hopeful. "I was just wondering... My bed's.... kinda cold..." His voice wavered. "Perhaps I could sleep with you?" There was a note of pleading in his voice. A hint of fear, and apprehension. "Of course..." Lucian answered, slightly taken aback by the fox. He pushed himself farther against the wall. He felt the mattress shift as James slid onto the bed. The cold bit hard as the cover was lifted by James. The bullets fell into silence again, he could feel that James was nervous. A lone shell from the artillery fell wide, detonating in the no-man's-land nearby. He felt James tense immediately, before he twisted. Lucian felt his soft hands slowly embrace his chest. Wrapping around him. He could feel James's hot breath on his bare chest, as his hand rest on his stomach. More artillery. He felt James tense and relax, pulling him closer. He slowly felt one leg rest on his own. Lucian smiled despite himself. He slowly began running a hand through James's hair, gently petting him, smoothing down the fur that stood on its tips. The night wore on. The bitter cold was forced from the bed, as James fell asleep in Lucian's arms.