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Klein listened to the voice again. This time calling for bloodshed. Aydin’s self-inflicted cut didn’t count. The blood had to be shed from another persons attack. Scratching his chin, Klein quickly though up lesser injuries he could deal and take. Before he could decide, Quin began to mumble and gesticulate. Klein recognized the pattern. He was hallucinating; bad. Qatar seemed to know and advanced only to be slashed by his brother. Qatar froze for a moment before the fury kicked in. Jumping up Klein moved. He had to disarm Quin until the hallucination passed and keep Qatar from going too far. Suddenly a stone spear rose from the ground.

“Come one, Miller. One little slap. I’m not even asking you to kill him.” egged the voice.

Qatar just stood there. He was milling over the choice.

“Coward.”

“No.”

The spear shot into Qatar. Running, Klein caught Qatar as he fell. Rolling him over, Klein saw the wound. Center of the chest. Six inches tall and a half wide. Lots of blood. Fatal. Seeing Qatar reaching for his brother, Klein guided the two hands to meet. It was all he could do for the two. Qatar’s eyes blurred. Slowly, Klein closed his eyes.

“Rest in peace.”

Standing, Klein remained still. “My religious belief teaches me to feel as safe in battle as in bed. God has fixed the time for my death. I do not concern myself about that, but to be always ready, no matter when it may overtake me. That is the way all men should live, and then all would be equally brave.” A quote from Stonewall Jackson. He’s sergeant had told him it before his first battle. Klein had asked how he should stop feeling the fear. That had been the answer. Qatar seemed to have discovered it on his own.

Turning, Klein walked toward Rúan. If he understood the rules set out, one had to shed blood but it did not say that the bloodied had to. Rúan was already injured so he probably couldn’t take another hit. But Klein could.

“Hey Rúan. Hit me in the nose.”

@mamaauthoress