The General part 15

Two days later, it becomes abundantly clear that my life will forever roar in this camp. I’m a celebrity here. Silence is a thing of the past.

Someone threw dirt on my dinner. An angry Entertainer is my guess. Or maybe it was The Headmistress.

The joke is on them, because this isn’t the first time I’ve eaten dirty food. I carefully scrape off the top layer of my cold broth and eat the bottom half. There are still small grains that I taste when my molars grind together, but I tell myself it’s just pepper and swallow with a hesitant gulp.

I haven’t seen The Headmistress since The General kicked her out, and I’d rather eat all the dirt on Zolan than cross her again. She’s probably planning how to get me kicked off camp. Nothing is going well, and I only have my big mouth and insolent pride to blame.

I’m a worm trying to be a serpent.

I finish eating and let my shoulders relax a bit when I see Malik cross camp outside. Entertainers usually avoid glaring at me when Malik is walking me to-and-from the well. He brings me some peace, and I’m grateful that The General didn’t transfer him off-camp.

“Joan. How are the traps?”

I set my plate aside as if it was on fire. Although it’s late at night and I already finished all my work and deserved to eat, the last time my boss found me eating in the kitchen, he shoved his fingers down my throat.

“Hello Tantri,” I wave awkwardly, and use that hand to wipe my mouth when he only scowls.

The Zolanos don’t wave. It’s a human custom that only reminds Tantri how out of place I am.

“Did you check the traps?”

No, I haven’t. I haven’t checked in many days. I keep using the excuse that they’re empty, being too busy to make up a better one. Will it work if I use it again?

“I checked,” I affirmed. “But they were all empty.”

“All of them?” he squints. “Empty again, after all these days?”

"Yes,” I say with more conviction, because if I’m caught, then Tantri will pulverize me until I become another grain of dirt. “All were empty.”

“Liar!”

“Wait. I’m sorry!” I raise my hands defensively. They ache from how long I worked today. The General forbade me from cleaning so I haven’t had to do the dishes, but there are still endless chores like checking the damn traps.

Tantri takes my arm and drags me across the kitchen floor, the flesh at my elbow ripping open when scraping a rock. Water wets my clothes, terror does the same.

“I’m sorry!” I repeat. “I didn’t want to hurt the critters.”

“Too bad, because now I’m going to hurt you.”

"Are you?” The General appears, and I instantly try to scramble to the safety of his side. He complicates my life, but he doesn’t seem interested in intentionally hurting me. Maybe he’ll understand one last time and help me escape Tantri’s clutches.

It’s hard to reach him because Tantri is gripping onto my ponytail with a vengeance. It’s not the first time this happens, either. When I was younger, Zolano girls would pull at my hair because they didn’t understand the hairstyle.

The General comes to me, calmly detaching a hunting knife from his belt.

“General?” Tantri asks.

The General reaches behind me, and I’m convinced he’s going to cut my hair free until I hear a cry of agony come from behind Tantri, a bone crunch, and then a soft thud.

In my peripheral vision is a finger. No, not one. Multiple.

He maimed Tantri. He sawed off his hand.

I can’t hear my thoughts over Tantri’s screams. Morbid curiosity and disbelief make me look down, but a firm hand keeps my chin from dropping.

“There is no need to look at that.” The General tells me before glancing behind me. “Be quiet and be a man, Tantri.”

He helps me up and leads my cold body outside by the waist. I’m in a daze as I follow. The only thing I can process is that he maimed Tantri.

“Joan?” Malik calls my name. “What happened?”

The General’s grip becomes stronger. “Stay away,” he growls at Malik as if he hurt me, too.

I don’t know where he’s taking me. All I know is that my hair is a ratty mess, my eyes burn because I haven’t blinked in a minute, and I’m lowered until I’m sitting on a bed.

The General kneels before me, still clad in furs and knives of all sizes. He Gently pushes my hair aside, and wipes my bleeding elbow with a damp cloth.

“You cut off his hand,” I whisper. Part of me expects the words to not come out as if this was a dream.

“He dragged you across the kitchen.” The General shrugged, the knives at his vest clanking. “I was generous by letting him live.”

“He might bleed out and die,” I remind him, baffled.

“Then he better rush to get it wrapped or cauterized. Now, what were you doing in the kitchen?”

“Uh…” I scramble to collect my thoughts. “I was having dinner. I always have dinner after work. Then Tantri got upset when I told him I haven’t been checking the traps.”

“What?”

“I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been checking them, but I don’t want to hurt…”

“Forget about the traps. What do you mean work?”

“I was working.”

“You disobeyed me, then.”

I clench my hands together, terrified that he’ll cut my hand off, too. “No, I didn’t. I haven’t cleaned just like you told me.”

He rubs his face, and that’s when I see a bead of blood on the back of his hand. It’s hard to tell if it’s my blood or Tantri’s.

“I said no work for a month. No cleaning, no washing, no folding, no carrying, no polishing.”

“Oh.” I frown. “But why?”

“Because I tore you apart, and I am trying to make it right! You are supposed to rest and heal!” he bursts, finally standing with his chest is heaving and eyes lighter.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he purses his lips. “Like I’m Tantri.”

It’s him that gave me the command to meet his eyes. It’s him that wanted my gaze. Now, he can’t handle it?

I look away, because he is my boss.

“I don’t want you to do that, either,” he barks. There’s a loud crash as he kicks a nearby desk down. “God of War, help me. I have no clue what to do with this female.”

The God of War he prays to doesn’t answer, but silence does.

“You will stay here.”

That’s when I look up and realize I’m in his tent; on his bed.

“What do you mean?” I dare to ask.

“You will stay here and I will look after you.”

I open my mouth to argue with the man who is used to hearing “yes, sir,” from everyone around him.

“I can’t. That is extremely inappropriate.”

“Go get your things and return here immediately. You will tell me if anyone got in your way,” he commands.

“Where will you go? Will you go to Tantri again?”

“A tempting thought.” He rubs his chin. “I should finish him off.”

I gasp. “No!”

He smirks. Death doesn’t bother him, because he is its father.

“I will find The Healer,” he tells me. Maybe there’s mercy in him after all if he’s finding Tantri The Healer.

I nod. “Okay. You should go. Tantri must be in pain.”

“The Healer is for you.”

“But—”

He shakes his head. “You challenge my every decision, wasting precious time. I dislike redundant, repetitive conversations, but for some reason, I keep entertaining them with you. I will battle a thousand wars before I figure out why I am attracted to such an enigma of a female.”

He leaves me with my mouth open.