Author: Mel (JRKMAB@aol.com)

France 1620

General Gerard stretched out his map of the British battlegrounds over a wooden table. He pointed out the forts where the British were storing their supplies. Standing to his left was Commander Bombadea and to his right was Captain Andre De Torrance. Andre's hazel eyes glossed over the map.

"Concerning our plan of attack, we will maneuver the British forces away from their forts."
The General pointed this out using his bayonet.
"These surrounding forests should give us an advantage. Our troops will come in from the North by the river and we will also have troops positioned in the woodlands to the East." Gerard explained.

"May I make a suggestion, General Gerard?" Andre spoke up.
The General was leaning over the map then straightened his stance.
"Please go ahead, Captain De Torrance. I am always willing to hear my men's ideas."

"While scouting the British fort, I came upon their camp. It in direct line with our Northern troops. The distance would be shorter for the men. If we strike the camp at night it would ensure us a victory. They will be virtually unprepared." De Torrance finished his thought, but not without receiving glowering stares from Bombadea.
The Commander was quite put off by his young compatriot.

"That is a brilliant idea, Captain De Torrance!" The General turned to Bombadea.
"Keep close to De Torrance. You may learn something after all!"
General Gerard laughed heartily.

Over the General's shoulder, Andre smirked arrogantly at Bombadea. The commander in-turn sneered openly at him. Bombadea's graying hair was a symbol of his experience. He never understood how a man who was a far better manipulator rather than a soldier could pull rank so quickly as Andre did.

Nothing passed the General, but Andre has succeeded by employing his conniving ways. If only there was a way Bombadea could convince the General De Torrance's startegies weren't always made with France's best interests in mind, but merely his own.

"Gentlemen, now that we have our attack plans settled, maintain the troops and inform them of our plans. We will attack tonight!" The General belted out his final orders.

"But, Sir," Bombadea interjected. "The men will not be ready to go into battle tonight. We are still waiting on supplies." He explained.

"Not so, Commander Bombadea. This morning I sent some of the men into the nearest town to retrieve some supplies. The men could wait no longer."

Bombadea found himself growing more resentful at Andre's every word.

"Very well then! We shall attack tonight!" Gerard stated. "Bombadea, you may now be excused to round up the men." Gerard permitted.
He then turned to Andre. "Captain De Torrance, stay a moment. I wish to have a word with you."

At first Bombadea ignored the General's orders. He remained in the tent peering at Andre.
"Commander, did you not hear me? I said you are excused."

Bombadea heeded his orders this time. As Bombadea passed De Torrance, he glared angrily. Andre was aware, but was unmoved by his abhorrence.

General Gerard relaxed in his chair once Bombadea was out of the tent.

"General, you said you needed to speak with me?" De Torrance reminded him.

"Yes, of course." General Gerard rose from his chair and began pacing the tent.

"I hope it is not bad news, Sir."

"It is I'm afraid." Gerard shook his head.
"My transfer came through. I will now be heading up a different troop..."

"Forgive me for interrupting, Sir, but I thought you wanted this transfer?"

"That is not the bad news. You, Captain De Torrance will not be taking my place as General."

Andre's high cheekbones tensed and his jaw tightened.
"But I thought you settled that? You said I would be promoted to General if you left!"
Andre's hazel eyes looked as if fire would erupt from them.

"Calm down, Captain De Torrance. I am sure one day you will make General. Look how quickly you became Captain."

"That is not the point, Sir! You promised I would make General!"

"Captain, it was not my decision! I was told Captain LeFay would be taking my place."

"I will except none of your pitiful excuses! The post of General should have been mine!" De Torrance did not wait around for the General to respond.

He stormed out of the tent fuming in anger.

On his way out, Commander Bombadea bombarded him.
"Captain De Torrance, what right do you have claiming my strategies as your own?"

Andre kept his eyes on the path in front of him. Not once did he make eye contact with the Commander. Bombadea kept up along side him.
"Did you not hear me, Captain?" Bombadea shouted.

"I do not know what you're talking about, Commander." Andre answered him coldly.

"The plan to attack the British fort by night! I was the one who thought of it! In fact I am also the man who scouted out their camp! The only thing you did was claim the idea as your own!"

"Maybe next time you should not remain so tightlipped, Bombadea." Andre sneered. "Is there anything else?"

"As a matter of fact there is, Captain! Supplies are my job! You had no right interfering!"
De Torrance stopped in his tracks.

Now the two men stood facing each other.

"Commander, if I were you, I would be thanking me rather than yelling at me. After all I am the man who saved your hide."
Andre's eyes scowled down at Bombadea, hoping to cause the Commander some fright.

"I will thank you never! All you are is a high ranking thief!" Bombadea spouted off.

Andre was tired of his lecturing. He forcibly pushed Bombadea aside. Bombadea was offended, but did not retaliate.
He watched as Andre walked arrogantly across the camp.

"Mark my words, De Torrance, you will get yours in the end." He cursed him under his breath.

The night's attack did not go as planned. Seventeen French soldiers were killed, and British forces captured nineteen, not including the hundreds wounded.

Bombadea was coming back to camp after the battle. He found it quite ironic that De Torrance was nowhere to be found during the battle.
After all the attack was supposedly his idea.
Bombadea thought back to the night's events over and over again.

When the French arrived at the British camp they found themselves completely surrounded. It was as if someone had warned them ahead of time.

The Commander was the first to return to the camp after battle. All was quiet. Too quiet.
Bombadea walked up the hill toward the General's tent. Bombadea saw the lantern's silhouette against the white silk material.

"General Gerard!" Bombadea called out from a distance. When he came closer he heard shouting. Bombadea changed his mind about visiting the General.
From where he stood, Bombadea saw two shadows quarreling inside the tent. Bombadea crouched down to keep from being seen.

The General's silhouette could be made out from where he stood. There were two of them. The other was much taller, and Bombadea had no clue as to who might be arguing with him. In the darkness a weapon was raised over the General.
He let out a guttural cry as it was plunged into his chest.

Bombadea's eyes were widened with terror. The shock left him unable to speak. He gasped for words, or at least to cry out for help. The worst was yet to come.

Bombadea kept a close watch on the General's tent. Gerard's killer threw his weapon across the room. Moments later, Captain De Torrance emerged.

The next morning, Commander Bombadea kept quiet about the General's death. He instructed the men to corner off the General's quarters, claiming he was suffering from influenza. Bombadea wanted no one to know about the General's death until the proper authorities could be summoned. Until then he would have to ignore Andre's wrong doing.

Officer Mallay came up to the patrol guards standing outside the General's tent. They pointed their guns at the young officer in warning.

"Gentlemen, can't we play nice? I have to see the General! There is something I must talk to him about!" Mallay insisted.

Bombadea came over when he heard the commotion. "What is going on over here?"

Mallay still struggled with the guards. Held onto Montesque's gun in hopes of taking it from him.

"Officer Mallay, what has gotten into you?" Bombadea questioned.

"I have to see the General! There was a fight between two of our men and a British soldier! One of them was hurt pretty bad! The British soldier pulled a knife and stabbed Courtney with it!" Mallay related his story.

De Torrance was watching from a distance. He approached the tent as soon as he saw Bombadea's soured expression turn to anger ridden. De Torrance strutted up to Bombadea and Officer Mallay.

"What is the problem, Gentlemen?" Andre intervened.

"It has been taken care of, Captain De Torrance." Bombadea snapped.

"One of the British troops attacked Officer Courtney! He stabbed him!" Mallay blurted out.

"When did this happen?" Andre asked.

"Just minutes ago, Captain!" Mallay replied.

"I will handle this, Captain!" Out of anger, Commander Bombadea clenched his teeth together.

"Well, I don't see you doing much about it, Commander!'" Andre glared.

"Maybe we should ask General Gerard! Just because he's ill doesn't mean he cannot give orders." Bombadea was eager to see if her could jolt Andre's suave demeanor. To Bombadea's dismay he did not falter.

"There is no need to disturb the General. I am second in command and I will take care of it." Andre calmly turned away from Commander Bombadea.

"Come with me, Officer Mallay. Show me where it happened." De Torrance ordered. Andre gave his tidings to Bombadea and started off. Officer Mallay dashed off after him.

Mallay took Captain De Torrance into town. He brought with him some reinforcements in case violence should erupt. Officer Mallay escorted Captain De Torrance into the Seven Thieves Pub. When they walked in Officer Mallay was shocked to find the British soldiers were still inside the pub.

"Is that them?" De Torrance asked.

"Yes, but I don't see the one who stabbed Officer Courtney." Mallay replied.

"Does it really matter, Officer Mallay? In one way or another they have all conspired to do you harm. If revenge and justice is what you seek, then you must do what is necessary." There was an evil tone to his advice.

"What should we do then, Captain De Torrance?"
Andre looked down at Mallay with stone eyes.

"Kill them, kill them all." De Torrance said this nonchalantly, as if it were second nature to him.

"Captain, you cannot be serious!"

"Does it sound like I am joking, Officer Mallay?" Andre stared down the bridge of his nose.

"But Captain....?"

"Are you disobeying me, Mallay?"

"You have no right to give those commands!" The young officer responded.

"I am General now! Do as I say!" Mallay and the other soldiers stared at De Torrance as if he had gone mad.

"I will leave you on your own to carry out my orders." Andre dismissed himself from the pub.

Mallay looked to the others standing by him. He knew it was wrong and refused to heed Andre's orders. Mallay took the gun of another soldier. He aimed it at the ceiling and fired a single shot.

Officer Mallay raced back to camp with his heart pounding in his ears. What if De Torrance were to catch him with Commander Bombadea? De Torrance ordered for the men in the pub to be shot; yet they were not the ones responsible for stabbing Courtney. De Torrance was growing wicked, and none of them wanted to fight with their backs turned to him. Who knew what he was capable of?

The young officer ran directly into Commander Bombadea's tent. Mallay stopped in his tracks and quickly saluted his superior.

"Commander, Sir!" Bombadea looked up from his journal.

"Yes, Officer Mallay, what is it?"

"There is another problem, Sir!"

"I thought Captain De Torrance was handling it?"

"Captain De Torrance is the problem, Sir! He's gone mad!" Mallay cried.

"Slow down, Mallay, and tell me what's wrong." Bombadea rushed to Mallay's side.

"I took the Captain back to the Seven Thieves Pub to show him what happened! The soldier who attacked Courtney was gone, but some of his friends remained."
Mallay stopped to catch his breath.

"After I pointed them out to the Captain, he ordered me to kill them...all of them!"

"And what did you do?"

"After the Captain I told them not to fire! I wasn't about to kill innocent people no matter what side they're on!"

"You did the right thing, Mallay." Bombadea patted him on the back.

"Sir, what are we going to do?"

"You aren't going to do anything. I will handle De Torrance. This has been coming for some time now. I assure you, Captain De Torrance will be dealt with." The Commander picked up his walking cane.

"Where is Captain De Torrance now?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him since he left the pub."

"That should give me enough time," Bombadea stroked his whiskers.
"Yes, Mallay, he will be taken care of."

Commander Bombadea received Captain De Torrance when he returned to the camp. By the expression on the Commander's face it was not a warm welcome.

"Commander, were you waiting for me?" Andre asked.

"Do you have a moment, Captain? There is a matter I wish to discuss with you."

"Certainly Commander. We can talk inside my quarters." De Torrance led Bombadea back to his tent. He had no idea what was awaiting him.

Bombadea dropped off behind him as they came inside the tent. Andre stopped dead I his tracks when he found himself being held at gunpoint.

There were five French soldiers standing before him with their guns ready to fire.

"What's going on here? What's this all about?" De Torrance shouted.

Emerging from behind the soldiers stood the newly appointed, General LeFay.

"A pertinent question indeed, Captain De Torrance." His voice was stern and sly.

"I'm sorry, Captain, but something had to be done." Bombadea was heard saying from behind. Andre spun around.

"You, what did you tell them?"

"Only the truth, Captain. Now you will be punished for your misdeeds." LeFay turned away.

"Captain Andre De Torrance, you are herby charged with treason and murder, and are under arrest!" His voice boomed.

"You have no proof!" Andre hollered.

"Please, Commander, show him the evidence!"

Bombadea held up a bloody bayonet. Splatters of dried blood still remained on it.

"One bloody bayonet, and it has your initials inscribed on it. We're glad you decided to leave something of yourself behind, Captain!" Bombadea glowered.

"Guards, take the Captain back to the barracks!" LeFay instructed.

The soldiers took hold of Andre and pulled him by his arms out of the tent.

"Good work, Captain Bombadea! You have earned the title!" LeFay congratulated him before leaving.
Bombadea remained in De Torrance's tent while he watched the soldiers drag him away. Justice was had for Bombadea, but punishment for De Torrance was hardly over.

Andre stood before Justice Laurent's desk. His slovenly appearance was not one of a prominent Captain anymore. Now his true self was exposed. A cold-blooded murderer was what he was reduced to.

"Captain De Torrance, you do understand these charges which have been brought against you, do you not?" Laurent asked.

"I do." Andre growled.

"This Court will allow no trial. It has been unanimously decided to not try you, but to evoke punishment without one. In the eyes of the Court, you have committed the most heinous crime of all. You double-crossed your own men by giving the British our attack plans. You are not only responsible for the lives of the seventeen men officers killed, but for the men who have been captured as well. In addition you are also charged with the murder of General Samuel Gerard! Do you have anything to say for your self, Captain De Torrance?"

Andre stared hard at Justice Laurent.
"No, I do not."

"Your sentence shall be carried out immediately. Although these charges are punishable by death, it is the opinion of this Court that death would be too sufficient a punishment, Captain De Torrance. For these crimes you will stay imprisoned for the remainder of your natural born life! You will live there and die there for eternity!" Laurent declared.

"Guards, sieze him and take him to the barracks!"

The guards came up behind De Torrance and placed the shackles on him.

"You can keep me here forever, and I still will not break! Bind me with a thousand tortures and I will not shriek!"

The guards jerked him back from the Justice and pushed him toward the iron doors. A dark cloaked figure followed them inside just as the doors slammed shut.

Andre was thrown into his cold, dank cell by the guards. Both came in and pulled Andre up from the floor. With the shackles still around his wrists, the guards strung him up on an iron bolt plunging out of the wall.

"Trust me, Captain, this will hurt you more than it will hurt me!" The guard's husky voice rumbled in Andre's ears.

He reached up and pulled a long black whip from the rack of torture devices next to him. With weapon in hand, the guard began lashing at him. The bare-chested Captain was being flayed from both sides. Red lash marks now covered his back and chest, but through it all, Captain De Torrance did not flinch at the sharp thrashings.

When no cries were heard from Andre, the guards stopped. Andre dangled in mid air with his arms raised over his head. The first guard turned him around.

"Don't make me angry!" He snarled. "Does nothing scare you?"
He thrashed again at Andre with his whip. De Torrance spit in the guards eye.

This action left the guard infuriated. He pulled Andre down from the shackles. Andre fell to the stone floor. The guards persisted in punishing him by kicking him in the ribs numerous times. Still Andre had no reaction.

He lay there motionless and made no sound.

"Leave the boy alone!" A voice ordered from behind. The two guards looked up, but there was no one there. Out of nowhere, out of somewhere, an old man appeared. Neither guard uttered a word. It was as if their minds had been altered. The guards threw down their weapons and walked out of the cell.

Andre propped him self up against the wall. "Who are you?" He groaned at the old man.

"I just saved your life and this is how you behave, Andre?"

"How did you know my name?"

"Believe me, Andre, I know more about you than you think." The old man moved closer to Andre. He wore a gray cloak and his feet were adorned with bamboo slippers.

"I don't know who you think you are, but please leave me alone!" He snapped.

"You're just like him, Andre. You even resemble him."

"Didn't I tell you to leave me alone?" Andre spouted off.

"Exactly like him." He remarked once more.

"Go away! I want to be left alone!"

"Is that honestly what you want, Andre?"

"Yes, and if you don't clear off at your own will, I can make you!"
Andre reached for his sword, but soon realized he was without it. Andre was unable to defend himself as he had before.

"This is a new experience for you isn't it, Andre? Whenever someone makes you angry or says something not to your liking, you draw your sword! Is violence the answer to all of your problems?"
The man knelt down before Andre. His black eyes concentrated on Andre's soul. He might have acted cold, but believe it or not he did have one.

"Its kill or be killed, old man!" Andre sneered.

"Not always, Andre! There is another way. Maybe you should pray to your God for a way out."

Andre looked up at the old man with contemptible hazel eyes.
"I believe in no God! He has no use for me, and I have no use for him! There is no other being more intelligent than man him self!" Andre declared.

"We'll see about that, Andre." Suddenly blackness surrounded him. Andre felt himself falling. The wind rushed through his dark hair. Andre had no idea where he was. He was caught in a free fall.

Moments later his slender body hit. Andre was submerged in black murky water. It was too dark to see even his own hand in front of his face. Andre pushed himself up to the surface of the water. He pushed his wet hair from his eyes. His tossed his head about looking for any sign of life.

"Hello! Can anyone hear me?" He shouted across the water.
There was no sky above him, only blackness, and no shore ahead of him or behind.
"Is anyone there?" He shouted at the top of his voice.

"Take a look around you, Andre, and you will see! Do you recognize any of them?" A voice echoed from the surrounding blackness.

"I don't see anyone! I see nothing!" He shouted back.

"Look again, Andre!" It was as if Andre had been caught in a slumber.

Andre looked around. He found himself surrounded by death. The stench of old death and rotting corpses filled his nostrils. Surrounding him were partially deteriorating corpses and skeletons, death lingered on all around. Expressions of terror marked each and every face.

"Who are they?" Andre screamed.
The voice was silent.
"Who are they?"
He yelled again.

"These are the faces of your victims. You killed all of them, Andre! They were your sacrifice! The barracks were not your punishment, but this will be!" Again all went black.

Andre was glad to finally feel the ground under his feet. Suddenly a light flickered before him. The old man's face became visible again.

"You again! I should have known you were up to something!" Andre carried on with his hand on his hip.

"Keep your voice down, Andre. These people are not well." The old man cautioned. With candle in hand, the old man led him into a tiny bedroom.

Curled up on a bed in the center of the room were a mother and child. Andre stepped back after getting one glimpse of the pair.

"Why have you brought me here?"
Andre's chin began quivering.

"Do you not recognize this woman and child?"

"I asked you a question, old man!" Andre refused to look at the old man.

"Who are they, Andre?"

"My wife and my daughter." He answered without taking a breath.

"Has time made you forget them?"

"I did not wish to come here!" Andre protested.

"Do you or don't you wish to know why you're here?"

"No, I don't want to know! How could you bring me here?" He shouted.
Andre disguised his tears in front of the old man for fear he might see his weakness.

"I thought you might want to say good-bye, Andre."
The old man clasped his hands together.

"Why, where am I going?" Andre questioned.

"You are not going anywhere. Your wife and daughter are dying." The old man whispered.

"What's wrong with them?" Andre asked.

"I thought you didn't care about them, Andre? That is after all why you abandoned them isn't it?"
Andre shot an icy glare at the old man.
"The truth is painful isn't it, Andre?"

"Why are they dying? Marie was always so strong." Andre recalled.

"You only thought she was, she was strong because she had you. Marie trusted you and relied on you. When you left she had no means to support herself. Then your daughter became ill. In the future it will be called cancer, but for now it hasn't any name."

"And my wife?" Andre asked.

"Merely a broken heart,"
The old man's voice became soft.
"She's been suffering since you left. A part of her died that day, and now its time for her soul."

"What are you saying? Is she really going to die?" Andre cried.

"Both of them will. They were just two more casualties who became trapped in your line of fire. Not only did you take the lives of your own countrymen, but of your own flesh too."

"Don't take them, please don't take them!" Andre whimpered.

"I see how it is, Andre. You want to take it all back now that you have lost something of your own. Let me just say, Andre, you lost them when you walked out. There are no second chances for you."
With one wave of the old man's hand, their souls rose up from their physical bodies. Their transparent souls walked towards the old man. Marie held her daughters hand gently within hers.
Andre's eyes became flooded with tears as he looked down on his daughter.

"Can they see me?" Andre asked.

The old man shook his head. "They have no memory of you, Andre. They have no need for you now." The old man claimed.

"Why are you showing me this? I never wanted to hurt them! I tried my best to..."

"You tried your best not to be like your father." The old man's voice echoed in Andre's ears.

"My father." Andre whispered.

"You have grown to be exactly like him, Andre. When you were three he left you and your mother to fend for yourselves. Your mother had to take as many jobs as she could to take care of you."

"She died when I was thirteen," Andre finished.
"I had to raise myself. Kill or killed, that was what everyone used to say."
Andre battled his emotions.

"They might have said that, but you didn't have to follow. You chose to take this road! Now you must accept it! For once take some responsibility for your actions!"
The old man became angry.
"You have only yourself to blame for this, Andre! Now your punishment begins!"

His daughter and wife disappeared before he could reach out to them.

"No, Andre, your place is here now! The people you have murdered will walk this earth looking for rest! Now you will give back what you have taken from them! The other soulless spirits who walk this earth you must find, and will for the rest of eternity! You are now the Keeper of lost souls in return for those ones you have taken!"
The old man's voice grew wicked.

Suddenly thunder roared around him. It continued for some time, but then instantly stopped.

Light burst through the darkness. It was bright but did not sting Andre's eyes. Andre did not look away from it. Instead, he walked toward it. In the distant turbulent horizon he saw shadows.
Andre knew this was the punishment the old man was speaking of.
He would not realize for some time to come that the old man was just a small part of his transition. He was more of guide showing him the error of his ways. Never once did he face up to his fears, but now was forced to.

Andre walked forward into the blue abyss and vanished into infinity.