Rated M for violence.

D is for Duty

Cloudreach, 9:29 Dragon

They have been searching the woods for days. Sixteen men under his command, all bound to find one man, one traitor. The Bann is not a merciful man and he is adamant in his treatment of those who have betrayed him.

The absconder they are looking for is his friend. He has deserted some days ago and Nate's orders are clear: find him, execute him, bring his head back as proof.

He prays that William has escaped for good, that he had the good sense to board a ship and leave this makerforsaken place as long as he had the chance. He doesn't want to kill a friend but he knows he will have to if push comes to shove. As much as he loathes the Bann, he is bound to answer to him. He has sworn to serve him until the bastard releases him from his duty and until then, he has no choice but to carry out his orders even if that means to kill a deserter who happens to be his friend.

Nate had tried to talk William out of his plan. There had been countless nights he spent sitting with the young man, trying to comfort him, to bolster his self-confidence and take away his fears. Just like him, the boy had been sent here to squire for a few years but it had been obvious from the start that he did not belong with the guardsmen. The rough treatment, oftentimes harsh insults and only barely tolerable accommodations were wearing him down and tearing at his nerves. William would have been better off with a job at the great estate but the Bann of course did not care for those pesky details.

He couldn't say that it surprised him when a fellow guardsman came into the barracks one morning and reported that Will was not in his bunk and also nowhere else on the grounds. In the end, all persuasion had been for naught.

"Lieutenant," it hisses beside him and his comrade gestures down the slope they are standing on to the bank of the river and his heart sinks. His hands clench by his sides but he keeps his expression blank. He cannot afford to show any feelings in front of these men.

With a nod, he gives the sign to surround the lone figure by the water. It takes less than three minutes for them to catch William and wrestle him down. He doesn't struggle very hard and when Nate looks the boy in the eye, he can see that he did not have much hope to escape in the first place. He grinds his teeth.

Stupid boy! Why didn't you listen?

His stomach twists into knots with the hopelessness and resignation in the other man's gaze. Bile rises in his throat. Will knows what's going to happen next.

"Make it quick," Nate hears him whisper when he kneels down beside him. For a moment, he just remains there, trying to calm his trembling hands and blinking away the moisture in his eyes. He can feel the soldiers' eyes on him. They are watching, waiting for him to fulfill his duty.

He doesn't want to do this. It is murder. Cold-blooded, useless, cruel murder. But he will do it anyway. If he doesn't do it, someone else will and if he learned anything in those four years he spent in the Marches, it is that duty always comes first and that failure is punished hard, fast and relentlessly. It doesn't mean that he won't do it with at least a minimum of dignity for Will, though.

"Let him stand," he calmly tells the soldier holding Will down. The order makes the man frown.

"But, ser…"

"I said let him stand!" Nate bellows sharply. His nerves lie blank and he neither has the patience nor the desire to explain his actions and he doesn't need to, damn it! The expression in his eyes is enough for the other man to release his friend and stand back.

Slowly, Will rises from the wet ground and just as slowly, Nate steps behind him. He can see the pulse in the boy's neck thumping heavily, smells the stench of fear on his skin and everything inside him screams to stop right here.

"I'm sorry," he whispers into his friend's ear as he wraps his arm around his neck and places his hand on his head. "Forgive me."

He takes a deep breath… closes his eyes… exhales... and with a swift motion snaps the boy's neck. The sound is sickening and almost turns his stomach but he clenches his teeth and slowly, gently lowers the body back onto the ground.

Well done, son.

He can almost hear his father's voice in his head, see him nodding his approval. It is exactly what he wants. To make his father proud by fulfilling his duty the best way he possibly can.

Why is it then that all he feels is shame?