Black and Green (Part 6)

 Green

  "What's it going to take to end this war?" the colonel asked.
   Risen blinked slowly. The doctor had given him something for the pain. It had worked, but it made it hard for his eyes to focus in the same direction which was a definite downside. "Just wait through next winter," Risen said. He pulled at his left wrist, attached to the bed rail. "Those who ain't starved won't be strong enough to fight anymore."
   The colonel looked at him sharply. "What's wrong with your crops?"
   "You burned them," Risen said, "and a blight took the rest." He blinked again, thinking that he shouldn't be talking, though he couldn't remember exactly why not. He ran his right hand down his left side and found the thick layer of a bandage.
   "How'd you get that?" the colonel asked.
   "Sarks," Risen said. "We didn't know they were dangerous. One caught me. My team shot it, but the paralysis set in...they thought I was dead."
   "They left you behind."
   "Wasn't their fault. They're good men."
   "And what were you doing out in the hollowland in the first place?"
   "Looking for a way around the mountains--" Risen stopped himself then. "I'm not supposed to tell you." He clenched his hand against his wounded side, pressing his fingers into the bandage. Pain spiraled through his head and cleared away some of the fog.
   The colonel caught his hand. "You'll tear it open again."
   "I know," Risen said, pulling away clumsily.
   "So you think the war will be over in a year?"
   "I think everyone'll be dead in a year and ain't goin' to matter either way," Risen said.
   "You think maybe there's a chance for a truce?"
   "No. I'm sure they'd die first."
   The colonel got to his feet. "Do you know why?" he asked. "Do you know what started all of this?"
   Risen closed his eyes and recited by rote, "A minor clash at the border resulted in the death of Commander Peterra's only son, sparking the first stages of the War. Most of the major cities fell in the first years of the war, as the enemy targeted hospitals and schools. Children were evacuated to the outskirts of the country. Those who were left alive found they had little enough left to fight for beyond their honor and their lives." He drew a slow breath. "Does your side say the same?"
   "Nearly," the colonel admitted. "I suppose we'll none of us ever know the truth of it." He clasped his hands behind his back, his normal stance, and said, "You said something to me out there, when I asked you why you would want me alive."
   Risen said nothing.
   "You said I was just a man," the colonel paused. "Do you really believe that?"
   Risen tried to see past the uniform with its silver piping and colored medals, and the hardened face to the man that owned it. It was difficult, especially with the cuff holding his left hand to the bed rail. "Yes," he said quietly.
   "I don't think my men would believe you," the colonel said with a brief smile that Risen didn't share. He let his eyes wander the tent before settling again on Risen. Then he reached across the bed and cut the cuff that held Risen's hand to the rail. "I'll see you have clean clothes and a way back to the lines."
   "Sir," Risen said as he sat up, slowly. "You're letting me go?"
   "Don't read into it. I owe you my life, so I'm giving you yours. It's not going to change anything. It won't stop this damn war." The colonel shook his head and walked toward the exit.
   "I'll tell them," Risen said. "I'll tell my people. Maybe someday something will change."
   "Maybe," the colonel said with one last look at him. "But I won't start packing up my gear just yet."


The End