Meta Gods War 3 B. Miles (best ereader for pc .TXT) 📖

rebellion or simple discomfort at the awkwardness of the whole situation.

“What are you thinking?” Key asked. “Are you going to banish him from the army?”

“That’s a death sentence,” Brice said.

“Not necessarily,” Frant said. “Lagon’s resourceful. He could survive it.”

“His wounds are too bad,” Brice said. “He won’t make it two days before the wolves catch him. He won’t make it five before the wounds take him to the Ur if the wolves don’t.”

“Banishment won’t do anything to quiet the men,” Stine said. “If the General really wishes to send a message, he should execute the prisoner.”

Cam watched the faces around him carefully. Some seemed to nod in agreement, some seemed like that was the most absurd thing they’d ever heard.

“Execution might be going too far,” Colly said.

“Not far enough, if you ask me,” Key said. “Banish him, kill him, who cares? He’s a traitor. Let’s get rid of him, quiet all the grumblings, and worry about the wolves.”

“Easy for you to say,” Colly said. “You’re busy fighting every day. You’re barely paying attention to anything else.”

“Damn right,” Key said, slamming her palm on the table. “While the rest of you bicker and moan, me and my men are fighting on the rearguard.”

“Enough,” Cam said before Colly could argue. The young Captain’s cheeks glowed red with indignation, and Cam didn’t need another stupid fight to distract him from his goal. “I’ve reached a decision concerning Lagon.”

The room fell silent. Cam composed himself and took a long, deep breath. He caught Felin’s eye and nodded. She slipped out the back and disappeared outside.

“Lagon is a traitor,” Cam said. “If he had stayed under arrest, nothing bad would have happened. I planned on holding him until all this was over, then releasing him. I wouldn’t kill a man simply because of his beliefs, even if those beliefs were spreading discord and distrust within my ranks.”

“But you would kill a traitor,” Brice said, her eyes narrowed.

“Lagon put men in danger,” Cam said. “Men died because of his selfish actions. And I can’t stand by and allow that sort of thing to go unpunished. Banishment is a death sentence, but it isn’t enough. No, Lagon deserves worse, and he’s going to get it from my blade.”

Cam could see the stunned reactions. Even Key seemed surprised.

“You plan on killing him, sir?” Colly asked. “Yourself?”

“I plan on executing a traitor,” Cam said. “Right now, out in the yard.”

“Right now?” Frant stood up. “Sir, you can’t mean—”

“Sit down, Captain,” Cam said, staring him down.

Frant slowly sank back into his seat.

“Felin is fetching Lagon as we speak,” Cam said. “When he arrives, I’ll read the charges against him, pronounce him guilty, and hand down the sentence myself. I want you all to watch, and I want as many of your men as you can bring to watch. I want you all to understand what this means. I will not accept traitors. I will not accept dissent. We are days away from the most important battle of our lives, and any whisper of malcontent will be dealt with. We need to act as one if we have any hope of defeating the wolves.”

His words hung in the air heavy. Cam gripped the pommel of his sword and stared down at his general staff. Their faces were serious, some shocked, some dire, some accepting. But none smiled, and Cam knew they all understood the gravity of what would happen.

There was a commotion out in the yard. Felin appeared at the entrance with Arter lingering behind her.

“We’re ready,” she said.

Cam nodded and strode around the table.

The Generals stared at him.

“Come,” he said as he reached the flap and lingered at the threshold. It was a cool, beautiful afternoon. The sun shone bright. The sky was a splash of intense blue. Fluffy clouds drifted.

Cam was going to kill a man.

The Generals followed as he stepped outside. Lagon stood in a circle of Felin’s guard at the center of the yard.

He looked terrible. He was ragged, exhausted, his clothes stained with blood, his eyes red and ringed with black bags. Cam thought he could kill the man with a hard breath if he wanted.

The Generals spread out behind him. Cam turned and motioned at Frant.

“Bring witnesses,” he said. “Go now.”

Frant hesitated then stalked off.

Cam turned back toward Lagon and walked forward. Lagon stood as straight as he could, though he swayed to the side. A guard steadied him with an arm on his elbow. Cam couldn’t tell if the gesture was meant as a comfort.

“Lagon,” Cam said. “You’re here to stand judgement.”

“I won’t be judged,” Lagon said. “You can say your words. You can speak your piece. I took my shot and I lost. But I won’t be judged.”

“You’re accused of treason,” Cam said. “You resisted arrest, broke out of confinement, and marched a group of men away from the army. Your actions resulted in deaths that could have been avoided. Your actions endangered this army and everyone within it. Do you deny that?”

“I deny it,” Lagon said. “I got ambushed by wolves. I got unlucky.”

Cam was dimly aware of bodies filtering in around his peripheral vision. Frant gathered soldiers and stood them in a ring around the yard. The men murmured to each other, stomped their feet on the grass, shifted and itched and coughed.

The sky still shone. The blue was almost breathtaking.

“But you don’t deny spreading false rumors about the godlings,” Cam said. “You don’t deny taking a group of men away from the army. You don’t deny turning your back on the people that needed you the most.”

Lagon spit on the ground. It was a thick dark-yellow glob.

“I spread truth,” he said. “I led men that wanted to be led. I’d do it again if I could.”

Cam nodded. “Then I pronounce you guilty of treason,” he said.

Lagon grinned. “Banishing me, then? Sending me away? You never did have the guts for—”

“The sentence for treason is death,” Cam said, and drew his blade.

There was a long, low murmur from the surrounding men.