I'm always in charge of training the new recruits, so it was no great astonishment when I lost my previous partner with no warning and was assigned someone new. I wasn't real attached to him, anyway. He was so timid, so afraid of battle, it amazed me that he actually qualified for the program. What did shock me, however, was the stature of this man the recruiter brought right after sun up. He couldn't have been older than 17, and not exactly big even for that age.

"He actually beat a real soldier?" I asked the recruiter.

"Yes, he did!" the man gushed, "He beat him when I thought there was no way to..."

"Who'd he fight? Louis of Gemalia? I suppose anyone is an improvement over Louis."

"No! He beat Romn, the giant, the ogre! Knocked him right out!" Now that was something! I'd known Romn since he joined. Not only was he big, strong, and in very good shape, but he was the meanest, cruelest man I'd ever met. If there was a war, Romn is the kind of guy you'd want on the front line. He was the kind who were hard to describe without cursing.

This... this boy however, this blue eyed child with the bandage on his left shoulder, was nothing special. Hundreds, probably thousands, just like him came and went every year. Some would turn into real fighters, but some stayed weak children forever. Oh, well. I could train him. Anyone with half a brain and two good legs can get the training down.

"All right. I'll train him."

"His name is Dyluk."

"What do I care? Come here, Soldier!" At least he was obedient. He came the second I called. "ATTENTION! You are my junior partner until further notice! You will do what I say when I say how I say until you are trained to be a man. Until that, I will refer to you as ‘Soldier' or ‘Dog,' whichever suits my purpose! YOU CALL THAT ATTENTION, DOG! Stick your chest out! Show some pride in your nation! Hold your sword diagonally across your chest! Stare strait ahead! You got all that?" Sometime during my training, the recruiter left in disgust. Like usual.

"Yes, sir." That threw me off just a touch. No one ever says "sir" the first time. I always get to correct them at least once. No big deal, though.

"When I say ‘March' I want you to march! Start with your left leg, swing it like your knee doesn't work, then follow with your right. Got that? Now MARCH!" And I set off. He followed pretty well. I showed him where to go for Castle Route and Merchant Route. I'll give him one thing, he sure learned fast. Likeable guy, too. Not that I showed any sign of liking him...

By the end of the day, we'd marched 23 miles, I'd shown him 2 routes, and quizzed him on battle with 5 different types of weapons. A little more than normal, but not much. I thought he'd show more signs of fatigue by the time I dropped him off at the barracks. Tough runt, I guess.

During the next few weeks, I tried my best to grind him into dust. Soldiers are a dime a dozen, good only to beat right out of the system or to strengthen up for promotion. He wasn't any different from hundreds of others. Well, except for one thing, he had real drive. He learned all 15 basic routes in the first week, and trained like... I don't know, I never saw anything like it. During the third week he finished his training and received a medal for finishing so quickly. Now he was a true soldier, first class.

About a month after I first saw the boy, we were walking through the Slum Route. It hurts to watch the slums, the lepers and beggars scrounging in the filth for something editable. No future was possible for any of these except in organized crime. We can't go too far back there because of the crime. It's dangerous enough on the fringes. Get back with the gangs and crime families and all the training in the realms can't save you.

Anyway, we were staying close to town where they have the wooden shacks and even an occasional brick box to live in. We'd broken up some fringe gang activity, stopped a few brawls over scraps of food, some little things like that.

Then I spotted a Devil.

I'm not a coward by any measure, but seeing a Devil, out in daylight even, brought ice to my heart. I'd seen one once before. It'd killed my partner. With it's bare hands. They aren't human, you can tell if you get a good look. Their features are too sharp, their noses to pointed, their joints too knobby. The biggest clue, though, is the way they look at you. Like you're meat.

Hesitating a moment, like it knew we were there, the Devil turned and stared right at me. Those red eyes look right through you, like they see what you're thinking. ‘The kid!" I thought suddenly. When I looked, though, he was fine. Didn't even notice.

Stupid Devil could have saved us all some trouble if it just waited five minutes. As soon as I looked back, it caught my gaze just for a second then turned and charged some woman in a cloak, punching and raking with it's claws. The boy was running to help almost before the woman screamed. "She's dying anyway, save yourself!" I called, but he paid me no mind, just ran off, pulling his sword.

"Stand aside! Get away from her!" he called to the Devil. The Devil took off heading for the deep slums where killing a soldier is a duty. The boy probably still didn't know what he was getting into. I did, though. He was practically a lost cause, but I had to do something. I chased after, pulling my bow and readying an arrow.

Devils run like the wind carries them, but somehow that stupid boy was keeping up. I'm in pretty good shape, but I was losing ground. I had to take the shot, so I stopped, aimed, and let the arrow fly.

My arrows always go true, but it was a tough shot. It hit the Devil low in the cloak, probably high left leg. It let loose a scream from the depths of the Tortured of the Holy Flame and landed in a heap. I dared it to run on that leg.

I readied another arrow, but the stupid boy was in the way. When the sun glinted off his copper sword, I could see his plan. He thought it was just another human! He was going to fight the thing! Even injured, they fight with the speed of the lightning of a violent storm. Sure enough, the boy recoiled as the Devil slashed with it's claws. The boy was quick, too, I'd known that, but no man is quick enough to fight a Devil. As they ducked and slashed, I held my aim and prayed for a clear shot.

The boy, with the quickest slash I ever saw from a man, caught some of the cloak, tearing it from the Devil. The Devil, caught the cloak in it's black claws as it fell and threw it at they boy's face. In the same motion, the open right hand flew at the boy's sword arm. Blinded, the boy couldn't dodge, and I heard his pain-grunt from where I was. His blade fell from his hand before the cloak from his face, but he was still standing. He brought his marred right arm back against the Devil, and he actually hit! The Devil flew away from the boy enough that I had a shot. The boy, again, grunted in pain as I took my shot.

As the arrow flew true enough, but the Devil saw it and jumped out of the way! How had the boy managed to hit something that dodged arrows? I suppose it wasn't an easy shot anyway, it being no thicker than the bones that held it together. Even in daylight, in the warmth, I felt a chill having those eyes through me like that. The boy must be able to tell that his foe wasn't human by now. Gotta hand it to him, if he did, he sure didn't freeze up like my other partner. He grabbed his sword from the ground.

Beast and boy each stood motionless, waiting for the other to take the next move. Suddenly, the beast shot forward, slashing with both hands. The boy pulled back, slashing back again and again. Then motionless again. I wanted to scream, "Get out of the way, boy!" but it would do no good. The Devil knew where I was and would keep the boy between us no matter what.

The next time the Devil jumped forward, the boy pulled a new trick. He slashed once, then threw his sword, underhand, at the Devil. Dodging left the Devil off balance, and easy pray to an attack. The boy hit first swing. I could tell because he screamed from the pain of connecting with his injured right. The Devil dropped, tried to stand, and dropped again. My boy, by that time, had retrieved his sword and was holding it, with his left, to the Devil's bare chest. The beast waited there for a moment before it, with a dying scream, threw it's clawed hand at my boy's face, impaling itself with the same motion. My boy stumbled back, stunned and hurt, then knelt, facing away from me.

I stood, as danger was clearly over, and approached him. When I was half way, he stood, bandage on his right arm, as red as the one on his left shoulder had been when I first saw him, and a drop of blood starting down his left cheek. His left hand still held the sword, which he'd cleaned mostly off. I could tell he was shocked, shaken, stricken, and in immense pain. He looked at me with astonishment and... something else. Fire.

"My man! Don't run around like you own this place! You could've been killed a hundred times!" He showed no sign of hearing my calls.

When we reached each other, he stopped, held his sword between us and yelled, "Betrayer! Traitor! Enemy of the Throne!"

"What!?" I stood still, speechless. I hadn't expected this.

"You, the older partner as you never let me forget, first pretend not to see the crime of the murder of an old woman! Then you let me take on such a creature alone! Your blade was always there to train me, where was it when I was fighting to live!?"

"What!? I saved you with that arrow!" I drew my blade to defend my honor.

"You called me away from the defending of the people of the Crown! You left a fellow soldier, whose protection was your royal duty, to die at the hands of a criminal!" His eyes burned with fire and, in turn, burned into my soul with their stare. A circle of a crowd had formed.

"Lies!" I called back. "I am no enemy to the Throne!" As I drew my sword to defend my honor, I saw the old woman among the gathering circle of bystanders. "The Throne is above all else! My life to the Throne!"

"I, the injured, the junior partner had to save that poor woman, to whom you had just as much duty and far more capability to protect! And, worst, you refused battle in defense of the Throne to save your own cowardly life! Prepare yourself for arrest by the authority of the Royal Army of the Throne!"

Refused battle? Had I not shot an arrow? No, two? Had I not called out to him, to save him? To pull him from hopeless battle? Had I not... well, that was all my contribution, but it was a contribution! What did he expect of me, to run into battle against an unbeatable foe? And just for the sake of a beggar woman who's life was likely unbearable already? The life of a trainer of soldiers was worth more than the life of a dying woman! Better a hundred of her kind die than one of us honorable men!

Then I listened to my defense, the arguments I protected myself with. My defense was that I was worth more than another Timutian citizen, more than a hundred other lives! I was trying to save my own skin, was willing to let the innocent die just to continue my own wretched life. The Devil was not unbeatable, Dyluk had beaten it! If I were there, he may not have even lost the use of his arm. And this was not the first time. The same had happened with my other partner. I had run for help when I should have fought to defend him! How many lives had been lost to keep me alive? If all soldiers would truly defend these people, how many of them would have hope of life outside of the crime families?

As this realization settled upon me, as I understood the hatred of these people for soldiers who failed to protect them, anguish flooded me. I dropped my sword. I fell to my knees. My eyes burned, but with the coming of tears, not the indignation I saw in Dyluk's. I could look at Dyluk no longer, so I looked away to see the same fire in the eyes of a beggar. And the woman next to him, and the boy next to her. I was surrounded by the wretched poor of the slums, all of them hating me for my cowardice, my villainy, my dishonor.

My eyes led me to the eyes of the woman that Dyluk had saved. No, not woman, girl. She was young, maybe 14, and was very fair. Her cloak was torn, but Dyluk had chased the Devil away before she received any major harm. She reminded me of my own daughter, at home. Besides a good bath, she was every bit as beautiful as my own Ella. And I had been willing to let her die so I could live. I shuddered, lay my head in my hands and wept, crying to Dyluk for some repentance, some pity, some mercy, some forgiveness.

The mob had no mercy. They began to yell, calling me ‘dog' and ‘beast' and ‘coward.' Several of the men found what they could as weapons. Then a man yelled out, "Kill him! Kill the coward!" I could feel the end of my life coming.

"NO!" called a beautiful voice. "Let him live! Do not become as he is, cruel and stupid! Show mercy!" I looked at the speaker. It was the woman Dyluk saved. My shame was complete. I fell on my face, as though dead.

"Yes! Listen to this wise girl, and listen to I, who will protect you," called out Dyluk to the mob. "His punishment at the hands of the very law he is sworn to protect will be far worse than his mere death! I will take him back to stand trial! He will lose all honor, be stripped of his title, and will be esteemed as less than dust. What more punishment could you give him here?"

The mob backed off as an act of aggression. I could see their intent in their faces. Their stares told of their wish for worse than death to come to me, and they saw sparing my life as the greatest imaginable punishment. Which it was. The army was my life, and I was going to lose it.

An old woman called out, "Let one of us take our side to the courts, and bring us back word!" Assent and hurrahs rose from the crowd.

"I will go!" called out the girl Dyluk saved. "I will testify of what I've seen, and bring back the word of the courts!"

"Very well," said Dyluk, "You may come." Then, to me, "Stand, traitor," He spoke calmly, his sword still extended but no longer menacingly. After all, I was already doomed, and he was fully protected by the mob. "Stand and walk, if you crave your lost honor."

I stood. I walked. I remember little else of the trip. He guided me back to the base, to an officer, who heard the case against me. Dyluk spoke calmly, but left no truth out, as did the girl. The decision was a simple one: I was to lose my position, lose my money, and be cast into the world I had failed to protect. Dyluk and another soldier were to escort me off the base, where I would lose my sword and the Royal Crest Amulet that all soldiers receive. The ultimate pain, though, was to see the blood trickle down Dyluk's right arm. That was the symbol of the destruction my dishonor had caused. I had to rectify it if I could.

"Dyluk. Please. I have a brother..." I trailed off. The thought of my brother hurt as well.

"You wish to be escorted to him?"

"No, we have fallen apart. He would not see me. But he is a healer of renown. Perhaps, your arm..."

"Perhaps."

"Go to the Temple of the Holy Flame. Ask for Brother Lanchard. He will help you."

"Perhaps." Silence carried the rest of the trip. Then, "Now go.'

I went, though I foresaw few years ahead of me. All the years of ignoring the plight of the common man, and now I was to join them. My isolation was certain, and my murder likely. But I never forgot that great man, Dyluk. I have no doubt that his road leads to honor. I know because I saw down that uphill road and I turned away my eyes.