The House of Blyth

Galfrid Blyth looked past his campfire to the stars, his sword resting over his knees and reflecting the dancing light.

Henry Blyth lit a cigarette, illuminating the night for a moment, before tossing the empty matchbook into the mud and repositioning his rifle against his shoulder.

Kalfrit Blyth slid the dial on his utility bracer to push a white glow out into the void, flicking his wrist to set his repeater into his grip.

Each rested on the eve of war.

“Are you shittin’ your pants, Galfrid!?” A gruff voice bellowed. Shortly followed by Bolden dumping his mail laden weight beside the fire and sloshing half a mug of wine over the ground. It hissed and smelled sweet as it peppered the embers.

“No more un’ you are, ya great pillock!” Galfrid mumbled, ignoring his friends behaviour and looking back to the sky.

“Well!” Bolden continued, louder than necessary in his drunkeness and struggling to hold up his fingers as he counted off, “You ain’t drinking, you’re out here alone, staring at the stars like God owes you something, you ain’t drinking, there’s Dane’s need killing in the morning, there’s a definite whiff of shit in the air, and you ain’t drinking! So what are we all to think, other than you’ve lost yer nerve?”

“I’ll be beside you in the line at dawn, Bolden. I was just thinking, that’s all.”

“Thinking about what? How to kill more Northmen? It ain’t that complicated.”

“No, my friend,” Galfrid said, smiling and softly shaking his head, “I were just wondering what sort o’ world we are building for our children. All this blood. Ever consider where it all leads? Will it keep them safe? Or will it damn them all the more?”

“Don’t matter.” Bolden said, growing serious, “These pagans get through, there won’t be no future for em’ at all.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Galfrid said, looking down to his friend for the first time, “I expect we’ll have the raiders pushed back soon enough. They’ll just be a footnote in the histories of our families.”

Henry swept the blonde hair out of his eyes. It had grown long since he arrived on the front line. A blessing really, to have lived long enough to worry about a fringe. He read a crumpled letter by the light of his cigarette, hunching over it in an attempt to keep it private. The glow reflecting off his ice blue irises, holding back the dark hour.

“No way!” Frank yelled in his ear, “Henry’s a dad! Hey guys! Henry’s old lady had her babe! A boy!”

“Can a man keep nothing for himself!?” Henry snapped.

“Not out here, old boy!” Frank laughed, jabbing out an elbow, “Hey. Its good news. You can smile.”

The sound of gunfire erupted and the horizon began its dance of flashing light, animating the death of each poor soul caught beneath it. Henry tucked the letter away into his jacket pocket and tightened his grip around the rifle resting against his shoulder.

“No.” He shook his head, “I don’t think I can smile. What kind of world is this to bring a child into? That boy is going to know nothing but fear and pain. Not unless we can hold this line.”

“We’ll be home by Christmas, you miserable sod! They’re all saying it. Germans won’t stand up to the allies, how could they? You’ll be home in time to see your boy grow up. Just keep your head down, and watch my back, alright?”

“Yeah, I suppose, Frank. I expect you’ve got the right of it. Home by Christmas? Maybe I’ll bring him a present.”

The vibration of his bracer caught Kalfrit’s attention. He twisted his forearm sharply and answered the call before it rang a second time. Pulling his thermal capture layers tighter around his neck in an attempt to still his shivering, he spoke,

“Report.”

“In position. Confirming synchronisation. All set, Commander Blyth.” The female voice whispered through the comm. The still blanket of snow that covered the mountains echoed sound so easily.

“Acknowledged, Operator.” Kalfrit murmured back, smiling his cracked lips, “We should be home by weeks end.”

“I hope so Commander. That son of ours won’t be happy if he has to eat meals cooked by the house bots past Friday.”

“The more terrifying battle indeed,” He replied, “All right. Form up your drones, Operator. I want to see minimal losses. Replacements are growing thin with supply routes choked by the enemy. Keep those formations tight and use the darkness of the night to your benefit. I want lights down until the last moment. Surprise is our ally. And Elora?”

“Yes, Commander?”

“I don’t want you close enough to need that repeater in your hand, you hear me?”

“I’ve seen your stats, Kalfrit. You flick your weapon live every ten minutes.”

“I know…I…need to feel the weight of it. It’s my word that sets these drones on the rebels. It’s important I stay connected to what that means.”

“I’m only teasing. I understand. I’ll follow orders, Commander.”

“You’d better. There’s a little boy at home that needs his parents. I’ve seen what AI raised kids turn into.”

“Human drones.” His wife agreed, before cutting the comm line.

Galfrid ran a stone down the edge of his blade. He could feel the nicks in the edge, knew each one for when it had once met metal or bone. He could never seem to sharpen those out. His fire was burning small and the night long. Bolden was slugging from a freshly filled mug at his side.

“How many little one’s you got anyway?” He suddenly asked, wiping his beard dry.

“Four in the house. One in the dirt.” Galfrid answered.

“Good odds,” Bolden nodded, “I got two boy’s. More lost. More I likely don’t know about!”

He stared into the fire, solemn for all his drink and bluster. Not laughing at his own joke.

“Think we’ll recognise them? When we walk back through our own doors?” Galfrid asked, still rumbling a stone along his sword, ringing its tune out into the night.

“Reckon its more like they won’t recognise us. Got a few more scars than last time. Plenty of grey hairs and a little less life in me. You, on the other hand. Its certain. That broken nose makes you ugly as shit.”

“Boy’s need fathers. Ugly or no. Seen too many without. Buried by the Danes. Don’t bode well for the future.” Galfrid said, watching his steel turn bright.

“There you go again! Men like us ain’t got no need for thinking on the future. We got work to do here and now. Keep yer eyes on the axes comin’ at you. Otherwise your future’s gonna be real short!” Bolden said, gulping another mouthful of his wine and sighing in contentment.

“Can’t help it. Got something in me tonight. Filling me with thoughts of my name and where its headed. Maybe God’s telling me it’ll be outta my hands come morning.”

“Listen here, you stupid prick. God ain’t telling you nothing. There’s a reason men like us drink and eat and whore before facing our enemies. Ain’t doing you no good sitting out here, staring at the stars and thinking on your family line. That shit is for the nobles, who have certainty painted in gold. We got today, and that’s it. Plus you ain’t got a single concern. You eat dirt, I’ll keep yer kids fed, as long as I get to keep yer wife warm as well!” Bolden sputtered and roared in uncontrolled laughter.

“Believe it or not my friend. That would bring me some comfort. Just keep my name attached to them.”

“I’ll call em all Blyth!” Bolden squeaked through his mirth, “As long as I get me two wives! Hell, I’ll take a third and call all them Blyth too!”

Henry woke with a start from a disturbed sleep. His fists clamping down on the damp grip of his rifle and his legs pushing to rise by instinct. A firm but friendly press on his shoulder set him at ease.

“It’s alright” whispered Frank, “We’re moving on. Grab your gear.”

He shook off the nightmares that were already fading, rubbed his eyes and dragged himself up. Henry shouldered his pack, pocketed his leftover rations and patted at his jacket to make sure his letter was still there. Then he joined the regiment and started walking through the darkness. He kept his eyes on the path and the back of the man in front. The wet, uneven ground of the French countryside was liable to reach out and trip you if you let it.

“What are you gonna call him?” Frank asked, pushing up next to him and matching his speed.

“Huh?” Henry asked, confused.

“The kid. You pick a name before you left?”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, probably after my father. Alfred. It’s a family name. My older brother has it…had it. The missus should know. She should make sure.”

“I’m sure she will, old boy. Alfred. Good strong name. Not as good as Frank. But I guess we can give that to the next one.” His friend smiled.

“Give your name to your own kids!” Henry said, pushing the other man lightly but still managing to make him slip and fight for purchase on the ground. He laughed at that. It felt good. There hadn’t been much to laugh at lately.

“That’s a way off yet!” Frank said, once he had regained his footing and given a retaliatory slap to Henry’s shoulder, “Too many dames would cry in grief should I return home a married man. And I just can’t stand a woman’s tears. Best that I keep them happy awhile longer. I’ll settle down after this is all over.”

“I’m sure you’ll get the chance. Me, I’m glad I’ve done my duty already. The futures so uncertain. Maybe Alfred will get a better shot.”

“Now, that’s no talk for the line my friend. Thirty First Regiment comes home whole, no one gets left behind, ain’t that right boys!”

“Hoo-rah!” The line of men sounded off. Henry hadn’t realised how many were listening in.

“We focus on the task at hand. Leave the future to God. Hey, Henry?”

“You’re right. Sorry. I guess the news has me thinking, that’s all. I got your back, Jack. We’ll be riding home soon enough.”

“Good to hear it. We should be at the front by morning.” Frank said, his smile wavering on the words.

Kalfrit deactivated the light from his bracer. The early sun was casting a pastel light over the rocky tundra. He preferred it over the stark, LED glow. Being spotted wasn’t an issue. His position was surrounded with a net of drones, all spying with infrared. He could do whatever he liked and remain protected. Not like the desperate, vulnerable rebels that hid in caves and ancient bothy’s long abandoned. He stepped forward and looked down the mountain pass. New Scotland was empty and uninhabitable as far as the public was concerned. It certainly looked the part. All ice and biting wind. But he knew better. Kalfrit hit the touchscreen on his wrist and opened a private channel to his wife.

“Kalfrit? Whats wrong?”

“Nothing, Elora,” He lied, “I just wanted to talk off the record before we go into this.”

“Okay…what’s up?” The operator asked.

“I don’t know. Got a bad feeling. These wilds, their so…”

“Wild?”

Kalfrit smirked. He hadn’t married her for her wit, but she still managed to elicit a reaction from him. No matter how tragic her humour.

“Its a far cry from Greater London.” She continued. “Why anyone chooses to live outside the city limits anymore, I’ll never understand.”

“I don’t know…’ He ventured, “There’s a romance to it. I like the light, and the air. Feels healthier.”

“Commander Blyth!? Are you turning rebel on me?” She feigned outrage down the line.

“Of course not,” He said, a little too clipped, “I just…did you know my ancestors came from lands like these? Further south, but not so different.”

“You tell me every chance you get. Your lighter skin kinda gives it away, not polluted by the rest of us worldly mixes. Mr. Indigenous Briton!”

He could hear her eyes rolling and her finger twitching to jab at him.

“Makes me wonder.” He mused, “If any of them had made a different choice. The men who came before me, I mean. If they had fought on a different side, or stuck their neck out too far. Maybe it’d be me hiding in a cave from the authorities. Maybe I wouldn’t even be here at all.”

“Kalfrit…you’ll go crazy trying to reason that one out. We all stand on the shoulders of our families, birthed from their choices and interactions. Life plays out how it’s meant to. Our ancestry trails the path made for it. Our boy will continue that forward, long after we are gone. It’s not something you can control.”

“Hmm, now who sounds like the rebel. Going to start praying too?”

“No, sweetheart. Just…let things be the way they are. No point trying to understand the entire world. We’ve got orders, lets carry them out and go home.”

“Lets point these machines at scared people and allow them to do the murder for us, you mean?” He snapped, eyeing the floating weapons in the air above him.

“If that’s what it takes to keep our family safe. Then, yes.” She said. Her voice low and serious.

“Maybe we should have thought of family, before we both chose service?”

“Maybe.” She replied, “But that’s a conversation for home.”

“Yeah, alright. Just…keep back from the action. Like I said. I’ll send my group in on the flank, we’ll flush them out, but they’ll be gunning for an operator. Make sure they can’t reach you. I know the signals spotty amongst the peaks, but its not worth moving closer.”

“Lets switch to the official channel, Kalfrit. This conversation belongs there.”

“Alright. Stay safe, Elora. I love you.”

“I love you too…Commander.”

Galfrid slammed the timber door of his home open so hard, it banged and shuddered against the stone wall behind it. His horde of children rushed forward to greet him, so quickly that he had to turn to keep his sword away from their grabbing hands. They remembered him alright. All too well. He kissed his wife rabidly, squeezed her arse and laughed heartily at the love and warmth of his house.

“Bolden back with you, Galfrid? His wife’s been going out of her mind with worry. Knowing his nature and all.” The beauty of a woman asked.

His smile dropped, and with downcast eyes, he shook his head.

Henry gazed out from the ships railing. He searched for his wife and little boy amongst the crowd of women and the flag waving welcome party. There were so many that he didn’t know how he was ever going to find them. Perhaps he wouldn’t even recognise them, it had been so long. So many years. He thundered down the planks and amongst an assault of vigorous back slapping and hand shaking, he roved around the faces for features he knew. Eventually he found some. Although not the ones he had hoped for. He stepped up to Franks mother, took his hat in his hands and held back his tears, as he delivered his condolences.

Kalfrit stood outside his own front door. Frozen more completely than the mountains had ever achieved. Terrified to go inside. He swallowed his grief and with a nod, finally made ready to face his duty. He reached out and swiped his wrist against the locks, then stepped over the threshold.

“Welcome home, Commander Blyth! Can I be of any assi-”

All of the house bots fell silent with a flick of Kalfrit’s wrist. In fact, all non essential systems shut off at once. He dropped his bag and waited. His son emerged from his bedroom within a few seconds, curious annoyance on his face. Until his saw his father.

“Hey, Dad…” He began, looking past him for his mother, “Where’s Mum?”

“I’m sorry, Son…” Kalfrit forced out on a shaking voice, “It’s going to be just you and me now…”

Allfrede Blyth dropped his visor and scanned the myriad of bright lights that made up the display before him. He banked the ship left and pulled into view of the planets rings. The beauty of the enemy’s home world always astounded him. He sighed. Kissing his fingers and pressing them to the photograph of his children, he engaged his weapons systems.