A Necessary Defeat

Hopkins exchanged a dark glance with Sanford. The doctor nodded before running to the infirmary. He needed to find a way to get his patients out of here before all hell broke loose. Sanford burst through the door of the infirmary, and Foster jolted awake.

"Doctor?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"Can you walk?" Sanford demanded.

"Slow down. What's happening?"

"The siege is coming to an end. Can you walk?"

Foster flung off his blankets and planted his feet on the ground, but when he attempted to stand, he tipped back onto the bed. "Everything spins," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "I don't think I can… I'm sorry."

By now, Sanford's other two patients had become aware of the situation, and fortunately, their illness did not hinder their ability to walk. Sanford wriggled beneath Foster's arm.

"Either one of you," Sanford said. "Help me carry him."

The taller of the two, Freeman, Sanford recalled, draped Foster's other arm over his shoulder, and together, he and Sanford ambled to the exit and out into the hall.

"Is there any other way out excluding the main gates?" Sanford asked.

"Yeah," Sanford's other patient, Jacobs, said. "Just past the Captain's office, there's a ladder leading up to the rampart. We can use it to get up and over the fort walls."

"Excellent, let's go."

The four men went as fast as they could, practically dragging Foster along; his weakened legs struggled to keep up with their hastened pace. Before they had reached the ladder, footfalls became increasingly louder behind them.

Jacobs spun around to confront their pursuers. "Captain?"

Sanford halted, then glanced over his shoulder. It was, in fact, Captain Hopkins. Then, a beat later, the rest of his troops filed into the hallway.

"We barricaded the gate as best we could," Hopkins said, "but they're scaling the wall." The fortress shook. "The enemy has invaded the bailey."

"Jacobs pointed out another way out of the fort," Sanford said. "It's just down this hall. If we can—"

Troops in red appeared at the end of the hallway. "There they are!" They came sprinting down the hall as one force, like a charging bull.

"Go! Go!" Hopkins said.

To Foster's protest, Freeman scooped him up bridal style and followed the Captain's lead.

"Put me down, dammit," Foster said.

"Is now really the time to complain?" Freeman replied. "You can yell at me later when—"

Everyone skidded to a stop. More enemy soldiers stepped into the hallway, blocking both exits. They were trapped.

"The office," Hopkins said. He threw the door open and promptly shoved everyone into the room. After locking the door, Hopkins pushed the desk up against it. Other soldiers jumped in, moving shelves and chairs to sit in front of the door, barricading the entrance.

Meanwhile, Freeman had set Foster down in the corner. Foster's hair was slick with sweat and plastered to his head. His breathing, labored and hard.

"How are you feeling?" Sanford asked.

"I've been better," Foster replied. A series of shivers wracked his body. "Truly, I'm fine."

Fox had wandered over and seeing Foster's condition, slipped out of his coat. "Here." Fox draped his uniform over his Ill friend. "This will do you better than it will me."

"Fox, watch over him for me," Sanford said. "I need to speak with the Captain."

Hopkins was pacing the room, clearly distraught. He glanced up when he saw Sanford approaching. "Oh, Doctor, is Foster okay?"

"Normally, I'd tell you to see for yourself, but for time's sake, he's fine for now."

Hopkins let out an audible sigh. "Well that's a relief."

Sanford tucked his hands behind his back. "Captain, we need to discuss our current situation."

"Yes, I'm quite aware we're in a tight spot, but don't worry I'm sure we can—"

"We need to surrender."

The room hushed, except for the banging of the enemy at the door.

Hopkins stopped pacing. "What?"

Sanford didn't waver. "We need to surrender."

"We've come so far, lost so much. How could you suggest such a thing?"

"The enemy is at our door, Captain. We've lost. It's time we stopped chasing glory and lay down our arms."

"There's no honor in that."

Sanford swept his arm around the room. "And you think there's any more honor in this? People are suffering; they have been for the past three weeks. We're struggling for nothing."

"We're fighting for our kingdom. There's nothing more valiant than that."

"Our kingdom doesn't know we're here. Your plan failed. Nobody is coming to save us."

"You don't know that."

"It's been three weeks, Captain. No one is coming." Stanford sighed. "We lost the fort. Now, it's just a matter of do we lose our lives along with it?"

The blade of an axe broke through the door, and an eye appeared in the hole it left.

"They're still here. Keep at it, boys."

Time was running out.

Fox wrung his hand out. "We surrender," he said. "That's our only option."

"You're soft," Turner spat. "Reap what you've sown, and die along with us, deceitful fox."

Freeman took a sword down from the wall. "I will fight if there's no other choice."

"As will I," Jacobs chimed in.

The door was ripped off of the frame, exposing red cladded soldiers through the barricade. Malicious and triumphant smiles spread across their faces. They had broken in.

"You'll fight—"Hopkins looked back at his men—"only if there's no other choice?"

The enemy bashed through the barricade with ease, entering the room, swords drawn. Hopkins shoved past Sanford, his hands held above his head.

"W-We surrender," he said. "We yield."

The red soldiers lowered their weapons and exchanged glances. Clearly, they hadn't expected a bloodless victory.

"Captain," one of them said. "They've surrendered. How should we proceed?"

Their captain, lanky and mustached, sauntered into the office. His gaze traveled around the room, examining each of the soldiers before him. His eyes landed on Fox. "Sergeant Fox, I see you're still breathing."

Fox winced at the sound of his name, but kept his head held high. Though he aimed to project pride and confidence, his eyes were trained ahead, careful to avoid eye contact with those he had just betrayed.

"Surprising," the captain continued. "Nonetheless, you may rejoin our ranks and perhaps be rewarded for your efforts. Come." Fox dutifully followed on his captain's heels. He didn't look back. "As for the remaining soldiers, kill them."

Swords on both sides were drawn.

"Wait, wait," Fox said. "Captain Chaney, you can't order their deaths."

Chaney raised his eyebrows and looked down on the sergeant. "And why is that?"

"They surrendered. The fighting must cease."

"As per the Colonel's orders, leave no survivors. The opportunity to surrender was given weeks ago. These scoundrels turned it down."

"But—"

"Whose side do you fight for, Sergeant Fox? Presently, it seems you're having a change of heart."

Fox bowed his head. "Apologies, sir. Please, carry out the Colonel's wishes."

Chaney signaled to his troops and they turned on Hopkins and his men. Hopkins tightened his grip on his sword.

"Halt, men. The Colonel has issued new orders," Chaney said. A soldier whispered in his ear, and Chaney's lip curled into a snarl. "You're certain that's what he said?" The soldier nodded. Captain Chaney made a tsk sound and wrinkled his nose. "Seems you get what you want, Sergeant. The Colonel has declared that they live."

Fox's shoulders slumped in relief as swords were slid back into their sheaths. Chaney flicked his wrist and his men proceeded to round up the surrendered troops.

"Hey, get up."Fox crossed the room to help Foster to his feet, but Hopkins blocked his path. No words were spoken, yet intentions were clear. The Captain didn't want Fox anywhere near his men. Realizing this, Fox slunk out of the office. He knew when he was unwanted. Sanford moved to aid Foster, but Hopkins beat him to it and scooped the soldier up in his arms.

"I swear to God," Foster mumbled. "You guys carry me around like I'm some kind of delicate baggage. Put me down."

Sanford found it astonishing Foster could still manage to formulate words, especially since his eyes were half closed and his head lolled against Hopkins' shoulder.

"Doctor," Hopkins said, "is he supposed to be this warm?"

Oh, to make matters worse. Foster was on fire, figuratively and literally.

"We need to cool him down," Sanford said. He strode up to one of the enemy guards and tapped his shoulder. "Excuse me, sir, my patient—"

The soldier struck Sanford across the face, hard and fast. Sanford stood motionless, his cheek stinging.

"Do not touch me, and do not speak unless spoken to."

Sanford raised his eyes to lock gazes with the soldier, who stood about a head taller than him. Despite such a height difference, Sanford refused to be intimidated. Not with Foster's life dangling by a thread.

"My patient requires urgent medical care," he said. "Please allow me access to the proper supplies so I may treat him."

"Are you deaf? Did you not hear what I just said?" The soldier raised his hand. "Don't—"

Hopkins grabbed the soldier's wrist before he could land a blow on Sanford. "Do not lay another hand on the doctor." Then under his breath, he said, "Damn bastard."

Hopkins, let's just say, spoke a little too loudly.