Chapter 220 – 89 Ending_3
“Did you manage to get so help?” Bard’s focus was on sothing different than Andre’s at the mont.
“Damn!” Winters cursed. “Layton ca in for a eting in the middle, and I forgot what I went in there for.”
He turned to go back to the conference hall but ran into Colonel Field, who was coming out.
Field grabbed Winters. “The Federation forces are still on the island. Rest here with for a bit until the Third Corps lands, then you can rejoin them.”
“Colonel, please lend ten n. It would be best if you could lend a few horses as well.”
“What do you need the n for?”
Winters was silent for a mont, his eyes reddening, he said, “My n are still lying out there, I need to bring them back.” Enjoy exclusive content from Novgo
Bard and Field were told about what happened after landing on the island and the agreent with the Herders.
“Go,” Field’s expression grew heavy. “I’ll give you two squads of ten… Be careful, there are still Tanis soldiers outside.”
…
…
When the wagon carrying the bodies returned to Hongsong Manor, all Winters could hear was weeping.
The Herder won struggled to identify the mutilated, charred beyond recognition bodies, ending in nothing but tears.
“What are you crying for? Don’t cry!” The half-grown boy who had previously been by Hestas’s side wiped his tears and scolded the weeping won and children. “If you cry, the boat that carries them across The Styx will capsize—you must not cry!”
Kalman looked helplessly at the bodies on the wagon; the scene before him had greatly shocked the doctor as well.
He grabbed the hand of the half-grown boy, trembling as he questioned, “Why? Why? Have I whipped you? Have I mistreated you? Have I torn your families apart? I have treated you as kindly as I can, yet why did you still have to go and die for the Venetians? Dead, all dead…”
“Mr. Kalman, you have been kind to us. You are the only slave owner on Red Sulfur Island who treats Herders well,” the half-grown boy stared intently into Kalman’s eyes, asking every word. “But even so, are we not slaves? Are our sons and daughters not slaves? Are our grandson’s sons, our granddaughter’s daughters not slaves? I would also like to be kind to you, would you be willing to be my slave?”
Kalman was rendered speechless by the half-grown boy and walked away in a daze.
Winters approached the half-grown boy and said softly, “I will take you to Red Sulfur Harbor, and as soon as the Third Corps lands, I will send you ho imdiately.”
The half-grown boy sobbed and gave a nod.
“Hestas… I hope you can take him back to his holand for burial.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t know the burial rites of your people, the Herders. Right now, it’s easy for plagues to spread, so it’s best to cremate the bodies before taking them back. Is that okay? If Herder burial rites do not permit cremation, we can think of another way.”
“Cremation is fine,” the half-grown boy wiped away his tears, his eyes red as he said, “You are Hestas’s ’Kulxit’, whatever you say about his funeral goes.”
…
In a secluded clearing of Hongsong Manor, torches ignited the pyres, burning away the last of human flesh and sinew.
The Herders softly began their song, farewelling the deceased.
The Venetian soldiers’ bodies were not cremated, as for Venetians, cremation ant waiting till the end of days for resurrection.
Winters and the others swung their shovels and hoes, digging out graves one after another, laying the Venetian soldiers to rest.
He suddenly rembered Major Moritz’s philosophy on life and death: only the living hold aning, and whatever the dead have sacrificed for bears no significance to them.
He shuddered and dared not think any further.
Field’s advice echoed in his ears, “Don’t get too close to your soldiers, keep a distance, or else you’re not fit to be an officer.”
“Yes,” Winters added the last handful of earth, “Maybe I’m really not cut out to be an officer.”
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