Wayward Soldiers by Joshua P. Simon

himself up in that suite of his before helping? How many more could he have saved if he had helped right away? He helped only when he needed to. First to save his friends and family. Then Boaz in order to have a place to stay. He only helped all of you because he knew if he didn’t, there’d be hell to pay afterward.” His eyes met mine. “Tell me I’m wrong, Tyrus.”
    Of course he wasn’t wrong. It had all been true. At least, initially. I couldn’t tell the town that though. They wouldn’t understand, regardless of how valid my reasons were. Just like they wouldn’t understand that despite the mess they had inflicted on me and mine, I’d changed my mind and truly tried to help them afterward.
    “Talking out of your rear again, Jareb?” I asked to avoid lying.
    He wore a smug grin. He knew I had dodged his challenge. His grin widened in a way that sent a shiver down my spine as it resurrected the reoccurring nightmare of him and Lasha. I dug my nails into my palms, hoping the pain might distract me from those imaginations.
    “I have not been fooled by any of your ‘good deeds.’ I know the kind of person you really are.” He turned away from me and gestured to the crowd. “Have you all forgotten the horrors we heard for years about the atrocities our army committed during the Geneshan War? Is this the man you truly want to take advice from? The sort of man you want to emulate? By the gods, I hope not. You heard the stories of Damanhur. Those people had the right of it and chased people like him out of town. I tried to do the same until that first eruption. I would have done it again had the rest of you not been so blinded and enamored by him when he finally got around to help you. Do you really want to ask advice from a man who probably knows the raiders? What’s to stop Tyrus and his friends from joining up with them if they do come?”
    Eyes widened. To my surprise, some even took a small step back from me as Jareb’s words sank in, almost as if they were afraid. Some of the hate I saw upon my return home reared its ugly head again, though more subtle than before. I was speechless. What in the name of Molak did I have to do to prove to these people what kind of person I was? Though some still thought I was an agent of the gods, others apparently wondered if I was worth a copper chit even after saving their lives. How could there be so much disparity among one group with all the same information and experiences?
    Yeah, I did likely know some of the people doing the raiding, but I didn’t approve of the behavior. I may have done some cold and dirty things in my life by other people’s standards, but to mine they were necessary and always against people who’d either done me or mine wrong first.
    Some might have argued that two wrongs don’t make a right, but math was never a strength I counted.
    Regardless, raping, pillaging, and abusing children was a low I never entertained in the army or anywhere else.
    I opened my mouth, ready to defend myself, but Nason cut me off.
    “It’s funny you should start questioning the motives and character of others. How many people have you mistreated as they toiled in the fields of your plantation, Jareb? How many have you intimidated in town when they dared disagree with you? You speak out now because you feel the power you had over Denu Creek slipping away. And how do you get it back? By attacking the one who people are looking to for help. Oddly enough, the same person who has been digging through rubble and looking for survivors while you’ve been relaxing in that big plantation of yours. You only returned to stir things up. How noble of you.”
    Jareb tensed at Nason’s rebuttal, but only for a moment. “I’ll freely admit I’ve made mistakes in the past, though nowhere near what you’re insinuating. Remember, the money I generate from my land, and the laws I pushed for are largely responsible for Denu Creek’s growth. No one can deny that.” Some