8. The Trick of Bosnot

Jefizon and Ajay met in a weird location. Both rode their horses, which Jefizon now felt uncomfortable with. He’d asked his horse if he wanted his freedom, but didn’t actually listen to the response or give that freedom, because, well, he needed his horse.

They found each other along the Ohoi river, but Jefizon rode to Bosnot, while Ajay rode away from it.

Jefizon waved and got off his horse. Ajay reluctantly did the same.

“The coming days will decide if Bosnot becomes ours or not,” Jefizon said. “One would think you wanted to fight with us.”

Ajay looked away. “I’ve been thinking. I’ve decided it’s impossible.”

“What?”

“Every living creature will always put their own survival first. To think it will ever be different is madness. Watch and see. As soon as the thirteen colonies are free, they will fight each other about who may rule them all.”

Jefizon frowned. “That is your conclusion after leading successful rebels for years? You had a native under your command! An ex-slave!”

“Yes, and you would choose your love for Fuja over Elwar,” Ajay said bitterly. “When it comes down to the write, you’ll drop your gun to save the girl. Because ego always comes first.”

He pointed at the horizon, which showed a hint of the coast. “And Fracclin? His secret missions was to convince the Frambozi to aid us in the war against Casbrita. But what did I hear? All that time, he’s just been partying and seducing women.”

Jefizon remained silent. He’d read the same books as Ajay. History was an endless cycle of civilizations that only thought about themselves. Kings who lived comfortable, and still wanted to conquer more and ruined everything in the process.

But Jefizon had his amazing decl—no, not even that.

“They ruined my incredible Declaration of Independence,” he said grimly. “They removed all my best paragraphs! The abolishing of slavery was removed, which made Fuja very sad, just because the southern colonies didn’t like it.”

“You’d have done the same,” Ajay said without emotion. “You have done the same, to me. As soon as someone tells you what you must do for the group, you track back and choose yourself.”

Jefizon climbed back on his horse, annoyed. “There are differences. Your rules and distrustful commands were nonsense.”

“I pointed all noses in the same direction! I was right to distrust some of you. Because now … now we are all spread out, and alone.”

“So you control. You command. You place a prison around every other animal because you’re more afraid they’ll surprise you than that you have to miss their brilliant ideas!”

“You will see,” Ajay said bitterly, as he climbed his own horse. “It would be a miracle if animals truly cooperated and truly gave each other absolute freedom. It would be a miracle if we actually win against Casbrita.”

Jefizon remained grumpy. “Miracles happen faster if animals don’t actively work against it.”

Ajay left, followed by a handful of slaves from his own estate. Jefizon just now realized how odd it was that Ajay agreed that slavery should be abolished, yet kept slaves all this time. He pretended it “was different”, but how?

Jefizon watched him long enough to realize he traveled towards Fort Tondoga, which was still in the possession of the Continental Army.

Then he finished his own journey towards Bosnot.

Once there, Wasserbox greeted him warmly, though with bags under his eyes. He received a uniform, a musket gun with a bayonet this time, and instructions. Fuja was already somewhere in the city.

The general was intense—and exhausted.

“We’ve blocked all ways out of the city. All the lines must hold. If so much as one hole is created … Casbrita can slip through and attack us all from the back, which is an instant loss. Remember: this is a siege, not an attack. Nobody is to accidentally fire a shot. We can’t win, not while Casbrita gets endless supplies of soldiers from overseas.”

He tapped the map to indicate a wide lane near the harbor.

“Jefizon, you must keep the lines shut here. You are now second lieutenant over a platoon of about twenty soldiers.”

“Lieutenant!? I’ve never achieved anything in the army.”

“We lack well-trained soldiers! Surely you’ve read about how to do things like this?”

Jefizon tapped the table anxiously. “Yes, yes, but theory is not practice.”

“This is my order,” Wasserbox said, after which he asked his highest general about the latest updates.

Jefizon heard things were looking bad. Their numbers weren’t terrible, especially with reinforcement from outside the city. But Casbrita controlled the well-defended city center. They also had better weapons, such as newly invented cannons, and an infinity supply of ammunition from the harbor.

Last winter had been a nearly fatal blow. Even inside the city, food had run out, as well as something to stoke fires and keep yourself warm. Many soldiers had died, many had fled. With summer on its way, however, hope was in the air.

Jefizon walked the streets. Every wall seemed peppered with bullet holes. Splintered objects and ragged uniforms were scattered over the cobblestones. With every step the sounds of gunfire and screaming generals grew louder—which meant they were already defying Wasserbox’ orders.

A bullet hit a roof nearby. Jefizon dodged the rain of wood and roof tiles that followed. He quickened his pace, until he smelled the salty harbor air and arrived at “his” platoon.

The soldiers looked up, unsure what to do. They blocked passage with their presence, but wouldn’t intimidate Casbrita any other way.

“What are you doing?” Jefizon said. “Form a line! Weapons pointed forward at all times.”

They scrambled to do so, though it was the most slanted line he’d ever seen. “Wasserbox has commanded me to hold the line at all costs. And—”

His eyes wandered. Further down the street, where the harbor started, another platoon fought. They couldn’t point their weapons at the enemy, because the other soldiers were in the way.

One of them was Fuja, who yelled and hit anything that came close.

“Fuja!” Jefizon yelled. He ran to her, but his own soldiers pulled him back.

“You just said we were to hold the line—”

“We move the line forwards!” he decided quickly.

His soldiers followed at his pace, guns forward. The mist coming from the water mixed with the smoke out of cannons, which removed Fuja from his vision. Several of his soldiers stumbled over the rubble on the street.

They reached the end of the street. They were several feet from the platoon that fought with Casbrita soldiers across the harbor.

He looked to the side. In the other narrow streets, the soldiers kept their line as commanded, but now looked confused. He didn’t understand why Wasserbox was so … passive, extremely careful. All the soldiers were placed far back in their street, far away from the action.

Jefizon yelled: “We push! Everyone move forward, until we surround Casbrita!”

The other lines started to move, step by step, to the end of their own street.

He stumbled forward, arms flailing. Fuja. Where was Fuja? He still heard her yell, but more softly. And why had they started this fight in the harbor alone?

Multiple gigantic Casbrita ships were docked at harbor. They seemed empty, their weapons and soldiers unloaded. But if all that—

A hail of gunfire descended on Jefizon and his platoon. Confused, he circled on the spot.

The roofs. Casbrita soldiers sat on the roofs! He pointed his gun and shot two of them down, surprised at his own ferocity. But the other soldiers could easily hide behind chimneys.

Jefizon understood why they should have stayed. Cannonballs launched from the ships, which flew just far enough to reach the end of every street that led to the harbor.

When he looked down, half his platoon was gone. Two more streets also had gaping holes in their defense.

“Fuja!”

The only response was a tick-tack of footsteps from all directions. Through the mist he spotted black shadows, wearing Casbrita uniforms, flooding the harbor. Whatever soldiers remained formed a single line to at least defend main street.

The other two streets had a gaping hole now. Hundreds of Casbrita soldiers ran through them with pleasure, eager to get behind the rebel soldiers.

Jefizon shook his head. Yes, theory was not practice. Yes, his love for Fuja could make him blind. No time to feel guilty.

He stumbled until he reached the wooden pier, almost falling into the water. He turned around and walked back into the chaos, but the street that he reached was clearly not owned by rebels anymore.

He bumped into two Casbrita soldiers. They pointed their guns. Jefizon knew it would be too slow, so he hit them in the head with the back of his own gun. They fell down unconscious.

Night fell. Through the chaos, Jefizon only saw ghosts. Vague silhouettes that seemed to teleport instead of walk, who didn’t talk but bellow some ancient language. Some were taken down along the way. Not by him, but by other Continental soldiers who fought around him, just as lost.

Eventually he could trace the large flood of soldiers back to one specific building. When nobody had left the building for a while, he took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The chaos disappeared, replaced by a well-lit room. At its center stood one calm creature, sipping tea: Beeris.