Battle Salt

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: War and Military  |  House: Booksie Classic
A young soldier has a secret that could change the battle.

Submitted: June 30, 2016

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Submitted: June 30, 2016



Battle Salt

The small army of about fifty had just setup camp north of the Nirab mountains. The sun was setting and in the distance to the northwest was smoke rising from the enemy camp. The commander of the group gaged that it would be a good four hour march before they would reach them in a surprise raid. At that moment a light snow began to fall and everyone was ordered to make no fire for fear of the enemy finding out their location. That night was the longest and coldest any of the soldiers had ever been through. The layers of animal furs and winter tents were still not enough to make anyone sleep comfortably. Once dawn broke, all were up and preparing for battle. Some were re-sharpening swords and daggers. Others were eating dried meat and bread. Even though sleep was lacking all seemed to be in good spirits. Especially a young low ranking warrior called Qayehd. He had been to battle before but as he was always positioned at the back he rarely managed to show his skills. Noticing Qayehd's confidence was a notoriously bad tempered man. He was known only by the name of Iyaz which meant hateful. He kept mostly to himself but if spoken to would answer with a series of glares and grunts. Even the commander would get the second in charge to deal with him if anything had to be said. Iyaz approached the unsuspecting Qayehd with a scowl on his face.
-What are you so happy about? Your guts will probably be splattered over the ground by the end of the day. Iyaz grinned with rotten teeth.
Qayehd hesitated in responding then leaned in and whispered.
-I have a little secret to not get killed.
Iyaz stared at him unimpressed. Then the boy took out a leather bag which was filled with something heavy. Opening the pouch he produced a grainy white substance.
-Salt! Iyaz burst out laughing which drew the attention of the others.
Qayehd became so embarrassed that he quickly shut the bag but not before the commander came out of his tent to see what was going on.
-What's so funny here? The leader yelled.
-Salt...salt.... Iyaz laughed so much that he was struck with a coughing fit.
The leader turned to Qayehd and demanded an explanation.
-Well sir...I got this bag of salt from a spell caster who said that if I consume a pinch of it before battle I would not be harmed.
-I can see that it has worked so far. I think it's only right that we should all have the same benefit. Hand over the bag.
-But sir it cost me...
-I don't care if it cost you your mother's life hand it over now!
Qayehd reluctantly forfeited the salt and watched helplessly as each and everyone of the soldiers took a pinch. No one offered it to Iyaz and by the time the bag reached its owner it was empty. They laughed and ridiculed him but soon their mocking turned to horror as one by one they began to choke and gasp. The salt was poisoned and in just moments the camp was silent. Iyaz looked at Qayehd stunned.
-I never thought it would work that fast. Iyaz finally said.
-I know, I expected a fight before the end.
The two men spent the rest of the day piling dead bodies and then lit them on fire. The smell was sickly and the smoke billowed thick and black. A few hours later the men spotted the enemy army quickly approaching. The leader galloped forward on his horse and greeted them.
-Great job men. I knew you would be able to pull this off.
-Thank you sir. They responded in unison.
-You have been excellent spies. For your success I will reward you with your weight in gold and whatever you wish to take from this camp.


The End


© Copyright 2018 C. Wolff. All rights reserved.

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