Chapter 2: The Commander’s Masquerade

Some things are better left unsaid. The past is a heavy burden, especially out here where every man’s story is written in scars.

Commander Maddox sneered, seeing right through me. “Didn’t expect you, city boy, to have some backbone.”

He gave a crooked smile, like he knew all my secrets. Maybe he did. Out here, everyone’s mask slips eventually.

“And I didn’t expect a border commander to enjoy show tunes.”

He stiffened at my words, then pulled me aside, away from the others. We stood in silence for a moment before I spoke first, unable to stand the tension.

The silence stretched, thick as the night air. I couldn’t help myself—I had to break it.

“You’re not Commander Maddox, are you?”

He didn’t answer, just gripped his blade tighter.

I watched him, searching for a crack in his armor. The way he stood, the way he moved—it didn’t fit the stories. Something was off.

‘A good man serves his country today—how can he live in disgrace?’ Why did that sound so familiar? It’s a lyric, from... ‘White Horse Pass,’ right? When I was in the capital, I heard that musical. Your singing is excellent, on par with the best actors in New York. That beard of yours is glued on, isn’t it? I used to go backstage with my grandma as a kid. And your blade stance—that’s not a soldier’s, it’s a stage fighter’s. But your strength is real.”

I rattled off my suspicions, then paused. “Most importantly, where are the Sentinel Gap reinforcements you mentioned? It’s been hours—even a round trip of six miles would be enough. Who are you, really?”

The man smiled, touched his fake beard, and began to sing:

“I am the defender of Sentinel Gap, Colt Maddox, this is the Broken Wolf Blade, slaying all Dakota—”

“Enough!”

I snapped, my anxiety boiling over. After the battle, I’d noticed something was off. His armor didn’t fit—clearly too small. His beard was fake, glued on. Whether his blade was the real Broken Wolf Blade, I couldn’t say. His so-called reinforcements hadn’t arrived. If he was lying, then the men we stoned weren’t Dakota deserters. If they weren’t deserters, they might have been scouts. If they were scouts, then the Dakota main force must be nearby.

My mind raced, dread settling in my gut. Everything about this man was a performance, but the danger was all too real.

“I’ll ask one last time—who are you? Where are the Sentinel Gap reinforcements?”

He avoided my gaze, mumbling in grievance, “No... no reinforcements...”

His voice was small, almost childlike. I froze, stunned. It was the first honest thing I’d heard from him.

“What?”

He clamped a hand over my mouth, hissing, “Keep your voice down—don’t break the men’s morale!”

His grip was iron, but his eyes were pleading. I got it. Out here, morale was the only thing keeping us alive.

I nodded, jaw tight. We couldn’t lose the little bit of morale we had left.

He let go, and I steadied myself, heart pounding. We were all hanging by a thread.

“Tell the truth!”

He lowered his voice. “Sentinel Gap has fallen. The garrison is dead or scattered. All gone...”

The words punched the air from my lungs. Everything we’d been fighting for was already lost.

“What? What about Commander Maddox?”

“I am Commander Maddox!”

He said it with a twisted grin, like it was a joke only he understood.

“Stop lying!”

He gave a helpless smile, apologetically saying, “I killed Colt Maddox...”

I stared at him, searching for any sign of truth. His eyes darted, but there was no malice—just exhaustion. I didn’t know what to believe.

“What?”

“He wanted to surrender the city, so I killed him.”

He looked half-amused, not sounding serious at all. Suddenly, I grabbed for the blade’s hilt while he was distracted. He didn’t resist, just let go. The blade was incredibly heavy—I had to use both hands to hold it. By the firelight, I saw the inscription on the hilt: “Broken Wolf Blade.” The craftsmanship was exquisite—not a fake. And with this weight, it couldn’t be a stage prop.

The steel was cold, real, unforgiving. Whatever else he was, this man wasn’t a fraud when it came to strength.

He snatched the blade back, swung it, and the long blade hit the ground with a thud. I stared at him, not daring to blink. Real or not, his strength was terrifying. The seven-foot blade was like a broomstick in his hands.

He handled it like it weighed nothing. My arms ached just remembering it.

“Sentinel Gap has fallen. No need for your hundred or so men to go die. Disband.”

That was the truth. If Sentinel Gap had really fallen, going back meant certain death for us all. I glanced back at the bonfire; Danny and the big-bearded man stared at us, probably wondering what the commander was telling me—was it about rewards or battle plans?

The fire cast long shadows, and I could feel the weight of their stares. I wondered what they would do if they knew the truth.

“We can’t just disband! The three hundred of us came all this way for over forty days—already exhausted. The road here was mostly mountain trails and wasteland; if we hadn’t scrounged food along the way, we wouldn’t have made it. Now, with Dakota riders behind us, if we disband here, probably none of us will make it back.”

My voice shook, but I stood my ground. Sometimes, you have to fight for hope, even when it’s a lie.

He nodded, looking at me with satisfaction. “You, city boy, look weak, but you’ve got brains. Disperse, and no one survives; stick together, and there’s a chance. Fine—I’ll lead you back.”

He sized me up, maybe seeing something in me I didn’t see in myself. Out here, brains were as valuable as brawn.

I glared at him. I knew he wanted to take command of our hundred or so men.

“If you won’t tell me who you really are, don’t expect to lead us!”

“I am Colt Maddox...”

“I’m giving you one last chance!”

“I am...”

He started joking. “My last name is King...”

“King what?”

“King Yancey... If you don’t want to call me Commander Maddox, you can call me Commander King Yancey.”

“Damn it!”

His face suddenly turned serious. “Sentinel Gap has been lost for three days. Your way back is probably already blocked by Dakota vanguards. Only I know a way to lead you over this mountain. You can tell them right now that Sentinel Gap has fallen and see if they scatter like stray dogs! Right now, you have to listen to me if you want everyone to live!”

He was right, and we both knew it. Out here, the truth was a luxury we couldn’t afford.

I couldn’t refute him. He seemed satisfied, patting my shoulder with pride before walking toward the others.

His hand was heavy, but the gesture felt almost fatherly. I swallowed, letting myself hope—just for a second—that he knew what he was doing.

He told everyone the Dakota main force had retreated, that only sporadic fighting remained nearby. We didn’t need to go to Sentinel Gap—he’d take us to the rear to rest. Hearing such good news, everyone cheered in relief.

You could see the relief wash over the men—shoulders dropped, laughter returned, if only for a moment. Sometimes, hope is the only thing that keeps a man walking.

I sat by the fire. Danny and the big-bearded man came over to ask what he’d said to me. I muttered to myself, “That damned Commander King Yancey!”

They laughed, thinking I was just blowing off steam. Really, I was trying to wrap my head around all the lies we were living. I didn’t know then how deep they’d run.

At the time, I didn’t know we’d all been fooled by him.

Looking back, I wish I’d seen it sooner. But when you’re desperate, you’ll believe anything that sounds like salvation.

Before dawn, we set out. The Dakota horses had scattered; Danny managed to catch two. He knew horses, and Commander King Yancey told him to take good care of them for emergencies. Later, I found out what that meant.

Danny’s eyes lit up at the chance to handle horses again. He stroked their manes, whispering to them like old friends. In the end, those horses would matter more than we guessed.

After counting, from over three hundred when we started, less than two hundred remained. Besides those lost or dead from hunger and exhaustion, most had died in yesterday’s battle. Most, in fact, were trampled to death.

We buried the dead with whatever dignity we could muster—shallow graves, whispered prayers. The losses were staggering, and the survivors looked haunted.

After burying our comrades, we followed Commander King Yancey, marching single file along a narrow mountain path. He picked a few strong men as scouts, including the big-bearded man. They moved ahead of the main group by about a third of a mile.

The path was rough, cutting through dense brush and loose rock. The big-bearded man led the way, cleaver at the ready, eyes sharp for any sign of trouble.

Before noon, we heard fighting ahead. I told the main group to stand by and went to investigate with Danny.

The sounds were muffled at first—shouts, the clash of metal. Danny and I crept forward, hearts pounding, unsure what we’d find.

In the dense forest, we heard the sound of running water. Following it, we first saw the big-bearded man happily wiping his meat cleaver. At his feet lay two corpses in Dakota uniforms. Commander King Yancey stood on high ground, looking down at a spring. The water flowed from the rocks into several streams down the mountain.

The air was cool and sweet with the scent of fresh water. My throat ached just smelling it. After days of thirst and grime, it felt like stumbling onto paradise—if paradise came with bodies and blood.