Born a Monster

320 220 – Things Go Wrong

Plotline: Main

Type: Social

It is normal to secure civilians aligned with the enemy troops after any engagement. I can’t blame the Daurians for that. Sometimes, the civilians fight back, so I likewise can’t insist that lighting the camps on fire and driving the civilians into the work area was inhumane, only unusual.

As happens in war, some of the civilians were escorted off by soldiers, usually but not always of the opposite gender, and people pretended they couldn’t hear the noises over the chaos. Sometimes, the victims were placed back with their fellows. More often, they weren’t seen alive again.

The tents burned, the fortresses burned, and then soldiers of the Loyalist Army surrounded the work area, and lit the edges of that on fire as well.

I feel compelled at this point to remind the reader that these were the loyalists that answered to Lord General Ding Mu, and not to the admiral or anybody under his staff.



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There was a minor rebellion at this point, fewer than twenty soldiers. I can’t claim they dishonored themselves, only that they saw a great crime being committed and tried to stop it.

This was NOT like what I had done, where the elementals were going to take drastic steps; this was... well, that will become clear soon.

Spattered with blood, some of it my own, I found where Lord General Ding had set up chairs, and was washing himself with alcohol, surrounded by most of his personal guard.

.....

“Ah-ah! Inhuman shape-changer. Have you come to beg for the lives of the civilians, or to take action against them?”

Well, there was a very specific magistrate... No, he was likely dead already.

“I seek understanding.” I said.

“That happens to people who think and talk too much.”

“Your troops... appear to be killing civilians.” I said. “Hundreds of them.”

“Yes, they are executing the traitors, because I ordered it. Let me spare you your next question, I ordered it because they were traitors. Trying and executing them one at a time is a luxury we simply cannot afford.”

I took a quick tally of flags, a rough guess at the helmets. “Even with your full force,” I said, “It is unlikely you could hold long against reinforcements from the main camp.”

The loyalists, men and women alike, closed around the burning structures, slaying with sword and spear and other weapons wherever people did not flee before them.

“Indeed. We could never have held this camp, never taken all that... rabble as prisoners.” he said. “What you are seeing is something I have known for two weeks must happen.”

“But... is this not a dishonorable action, a violation of some part or other of the Soldier’s Code?”

The metal-clad men before me broke out laughing. “We are not soldiers.” one of the bodyguards explained. “We are born of the noble class, and so piss upon the Soldier’s Code.”

“Poorly stated, but indeed true.” Lord Ding agreed. “We hold to the ideals of order, of peace, and of law. When these allied themselves with the rebel, they signed their own death warrants. There are enough militia to do what must be done.”
With my enhanced vision, I saw a mother kicked over the cliff edge, and her daughters thrown bodily after her. The soldiers involved laughed at each other, and moved to keep in line with their advancing fellows.

“This... is not how I was taught that Soldiers ought to behave.”

“Yes, Ping. You are getting there. These are not an army of soldiers, but of militia.”

“Of merchants.” I said, suddenly grasping the social reality of the situation. “Warriors without a code of ethics, loyal only to their paymaster.”

“Who, in turn, is loyal to me.” Lord Ding said, dousing his rag again to scrub a troublesome spot on the back of his shoulder.

“But... I do not think that will matter to the soldiers of either side, no matter who wins.”

“Ah, it is such a pity that they were overzealous in carrying out my orders.” he said. “My personal honor and face is such that none will question when I disavow and execute the surviving militia. The Soldier caste will even support me in doing so.”

“I still don’t understand. You came north, knowing that everyone under your command would die?”

“What? No, of course not. Most of the soldiers, and the merchants, absolutely.”

I had to take a seat, so I spread a blanket to help sop up the muddy earth. “I’m clearly misunderstanding. How is this a good thing?”

“If I tell you, I may have to kill you. You are a Truthspeaker, are you not?”

I shrugged. “Not a certified one. Honestly, I’m done trying to charge uphill on that front.”

He chuckled, flipped a coin to one of his bodyguards.

“My lord,” the guard said, “You will recall I bet against the shifter surviving the battle.” He flipped the coin back.

“Ah, but did you not bet a silver coin? Jun Mah, what is your recollection on this?”

A burly woman, whom I presume was Jun Mah said. “Why ask me? I took a tetsubo across my helmet. I’m trying to remember my mother’s name. Why would I remember something about coins?”

They had a laugh about that.

“Maybe you were also hit across the head?” Lord Ding asked. He gestured toward the ongoing horror. “Knowing now that this was always planned, what would you think is the reason why?”

I nibbled on the back of my hand, where the drying blood was beginning to itch. “It seems a calculated move. Not born of insanity, cold logic rather than a heated emotional decision.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “That is obvious. Likewise, it is not motivated by gain, nor of expanding the Ricelands.”

“I am probably missing a subtlety of honor and face.” I said. “This event disgraces both the Soldier and Merchant castes, and causes severe casualties among Farmers with building skills.”

Lord Ding flipped a coin to Jun Mah, who let it bounce off her side and fall to the ground. “He has more than I would have credited his barbarian brain with.”

“He doesn’t have it all, yet.” Jun Mah replied.

“Continue.” he told me.

“The one caste that emerges without blemish is yours, the noble caste.” I said. “But... that would encourage further Loyalist armies to be made up mostly of nobility, and those retainers they personally could vouch for.”

“Crap out an ivy vine!” Jun Mah said. “Who saw where that coin fell?”

Lord Ding picked up his fan, opening it and clacking it shut as a form of applause. “And what will happen to the numbers of nobles as a result?”

“They will be decimated, possibly multiple times. How is this a goal for your lord-generalship?”

“Ah-ah. How many nobles do you think are involved in the conflict at the moment?”

“I would guess a few hundred.”

“Try over two thousand.” he said.

“That seems... exaggerated.” Was it? I had seen several arrogant soldiers, dressed in gear better than average. Was one in three or four... It seemed excessive, but even today I cannot say his estimate was wrong.

“Consider this.” he said. “When people of two castes marry, do they marry into the higher or the lower caste?”

“Oh.” I said. “And a higher proportion of the prisoners of this island were nobles to begin with.”

“Indeed.” Lord Ding said. “In the Empire, only one person in twenty to a hundred is of the Noble caste. Here, it is near to four in ten. So tell me, why would I, a Noble, seek such a massive death of Noble caste members?”

I recalled an elvish saying. “When everyone is special, nobody receives special treatment.”

“And now, having come to that realization, what do you feel about the events of tonight?”

I took a look, at bad things happening to people whose only crime was wanting to live, to not be put to death by Liberation Army soldiers.

“Those are not my people.” I said. “Your society tells me I am a barbarian and an outsider, and many people residing here have either tried to kill me, or sentenced me to otherwise die. So sorry, I just want this to be over, so that I can leave this island. Preferably with those I came with.”

“So cold and heartless.” one of the bodyguards said.

“Leave the uncivilized child alone.” Jun Mah said. “He’s clearly suffering from drinking too much alcohol.”

“She has a point.” Lord General Ding said. “You should bathe tonight, tomorrow we begin our forced march south. Or did you have other questions?”

“May it please the Lord General, I have answers to my questions. I think... I shall now be elsewhere until morning.”

“You would be well advised to not sleep too near the militia.” one of the bodyguards advised me.

“Ah-ah.” I said, not hearing anything of levity in my voice. “I agree. I will take care where I sleep.”

I found a fourth of a barrel of water, shattered but not entirely upended. Although it bore no disease, and was clear to sight, no matter how much I scoured my skin, I could not feel clean.

“Hey.” one of the militia soldiers said. “Share that bathwater with those who earned it.”

“Certainly.” I said, realizing that while I didn’t recognize the speaker, one of his group had been on the side of one of those wedges.

“Scram kid.” said one of the others. “There’s barely enough water here for real soldiers.”