The Hierarchy of a Coward.

The red explosion reflected in his eyes, flashing butterflies on his nerves, making his spine shiver and forcing him to take a step back. He wasn't the only one. The whole escort shook in alarm. The pushers and pullers of the catapult, stopped in their tracks to look at the impressive blow-out. At the other side of the abandoned city they were crossing, far up the destroyed buildings, a burst of bright scarlet flames rose. Dark fulminations elevated in the night sky and a frightening tremor made the earth itself rumble. A ruffle of hot wind came through the ruins and ran through his hair, burning his face. The horrible smell of ashes, scorned flesh and iron stuck to him, making him cough. He recoiled, his eyes stinging and full with tears. He couldn't see anything. He couldn't see a thing ! Not a single parcel of his vision was not red. It was as the vermilion of the outburst was stuck to its retinas. His poor reaction to the flashing light received howls of discontent and while trying to keep himself steady on the very tilted hill, one of his legs gave-out. He fell heavily on the soft grass. A voice on his right, screeched while calling his name.

"No ! No, no, no, no ! Schimmel, what the fuck are you doing ? Get up ! Return in the damn line !"

"I'm trying, Bone-Sack ! But I'm blinded ! And my leg's stuck !", he explained rashly, rubbing his eyes with fury while jerking his leg. It was deep in a rabbit-hole. These pests dug the place like mites !

He tried to push on his other hooves, but the ground was slippery. Each of his attempts ended up in failure. Shouts started to arise in the garrison. Some soldiers took offense at the sudden stop, all because of one damn centaur. They tried pulling on the harnesses of the beasts to make them advance, only aggravating the unbalance of the convoy. Handlers started running across the columns of warriors, chasing the trouble-makers and getting around Schimmel and his group. They were looking down at him with narrowed eyes, surrounding him like wolves about to bite. Each of their steps was threatening. Their presence was enough to make the whole lot of other centaurs panicked. A whip cracked, making Shimmel quiver and contract his muscles. But the pain never came. It was only the first warning. Schimmel roared, anguish starting to pile up in his stomach. He tried to find his master in the human crowd, but in their uniforms, the handlers all looked the same. Desperate, he tried to justify his mistake.

"Come on ! Don't be like this ! I'm doing my best here ! It's not like I could predict an explosion !", he claimed, the skin of his face injured by all his rubbing.

But the handlers were not ones for words. Nor lame excuses. Their leather masks hid their mouths and a whole lot of their faces, making them intimidating and unreadable. One of them took a great momentum and the whip cracked again. The twenty-three other centaurs, dejected, started yelling at Schimmel, anxious that their masters could lose their temper if he did not obey quickly. Each had their own method, from encouragement to plain reproaches.

"Get up, white-one ! We don't have time for that !"

"Come one big guy, up ! Up ! You have it in you, you can do it ! You're not the leader of the left line for nothing ! Come-on !"

"I don't want to be beaten up again ! I didn't do anything this time ! It's all your fault !"

"What are you doing, chief ? If you can't get up, you're dead ! If we don't move, we're all dead !"

All pretty normal reactions from a bunch of terrified half-beasts. Until one voice, one that Schimmel knew better, came up in the scramble. It was hoarse and sardonic.

"Schimmel ? It's Schimmel, right, who fell ? Ha ! I told you all he was a weakling ! He has probably broke his fucking leg ! Get him a replacement or kill him already ! Handlers, don't you know how to do your jobs ? What a dissa-fucking-pointement."

Schimmel, suddenly hardened by anger, found it in him to open up his eyes, despite the pain. Turning almost completely on himself, hurting his leg in the process, he shot a glare at the other side of the catapult he and his row were pulling. On the side of the pushers, his iris met those of Bill. A big and hardened grey-spotted half Andalusian guy. He was impressively large. His coat was covered in white scars and his mane badly trimmed. Flakes of white skin were caught in his gray beard. And a very ugly slash crossed his face from left to right, cutting his chin. He looked more like a war horse than a work-one.

Schimmel didn't know this group of centaurs for long. From the beginning of the war between the houses of Magmeld in the south and the East Empire of Tairgnir, he was sent all around the place for millions of short missions. Never having time to seek knowledge upon his companions of misfortune. And since now one month, he was mixed in this team of twenty-three guys coming from all over the East Empire, with all kinds of different backgrounds. Right on the front-line... So, he didn't have time to learn more than the essential about the main troublemakers, too busy trying to stay alive in this hot mess of a war.

Many were dead already, blown-away by magical traps and outbursts, or plainly killed by archers of the South. Fittingly, himself was only a replacement for a lost worker. Four weeks ago, a bad encounter led to the loss of almost ten centaurs, who died protecting the exact catapult he was trying to tow forward at the moment. Handlers and soldiers were desperate for new cannon-fodders, so they put little regard to newcomers. The last leader of this gathering had seen his limbs broken open in a bad fall. Bill wanted to take his position as a head-puller, a job less dangerous and far more rewarding than the one of lead-pusher. He had experience. He was a survivor. He was there for almost a year, now. He knew his way around the place and how to lead and dominate the herd. But the Handlers didn't like his provocative way and chose a fresh outsider, much more tempered. Schimmel's last job was of refueling supplies, running from garrison to garrison with food and water. He was chosen at random, with two other centaurs. And given the lead.

Just like that, he had stepped on the fragile ego of Bill. And even if nothing about it was his fault or in his control, Bill still holds a grudge against him.

All because he was shown to be competent. More competent than Bill thought Schimmel the air-headed will be. The white-horse was strong, dependable and quick on his feet. Making the group travel faster and more efficiently. For… Some reasons, even Schimmel wasn't sure to understand. Maybe he just got the right attitude ? Maybe the addition of the undying stamina of Bone-Sack to his steadiness, helped ? Who knows.

But Bill was, since, a jealous bastard. Never in his seventeen short years of life, Schimmel had met another as envious and unbearable as him ! And Bill was only two years older than him ! How could someone grow so vividly green was a mystery for the white-beast.

Anyway, he really did think about all that. Everyday. But to the point of admitting it out loud ? That was another story, since it seemed he was the only one who thought so. Cause, not a single centaur was passing on the opportunity of licking Bill's hooves. It was a shit show of pleasantries, offerings and fake admiration everywhere. Some even did give him part of their already small meals ! These were rationed ! How could they be so selfless in the sake of buttering him up ? It was so shameless ! Horrendous !

But the explanation was in fact pretty simple. It was probably because, even if the title of number one was given to Schimmel, Bill was still the strongest and mightiest of the group. And you don't provoke those who can hurt you. Schimmel knew better than to try his slim chance at fighting him and had stayed low as a result. Not doing much more than what was necessary. But even that seemed to be efficient on the usually dissipated centaurs convoy. Equally efficiently pissing Bill off a little more each day.

The problem now was, Schimmel didn't want to give his position away. Being line-leader was comfortable, less dangerous than being in the back and highly regarded as an important job by the handlers. He was granted much freedom and much less supervision from the human masters.

And that, he just couldn't give up on.

For Bill, this position was only a luxury.

For Schimmel, it was a dire need.

Anyway, all that to say, Bill's offense turned quickly into aggressiveness as a result. And his constant provocations were starting to tire the calm and level-headed Schimmel. Screaming on top of the blended whining, cheeks wet with tears and sediments, the young centaur put his foot down.

"My leg's fine, Bill ! Just, stuck, as I said ! Goddamn It ! Now, shut the hell up and start pushing this catapult, you useless old man !"

"Don't order me around, you animal… Don't even have human ears, but still always there to open its big mouth !"

Schimmel put his hands on his head, hiding in his curly silver hairs, the white horse-ears shaped like two crescent moons.

"How dare you… An animal ! Me ? An animal ? I will make you eat your words, Bill !"

But his voice transpired nervousness and uncertainty. Not convincing. A rough laugh echoed his annoyance and Schimmel clenched his teethes, gnawing on bad thoughts as his twisted leg started to make him sweat.

"If.. If I wasn't… If I could… I'll show him… What an ass !" He rumbled, letting go of his twitching ears, to take balance on the ground.

An appeasing hand fell upon his shoulder, distracting him from Bill shenanigans. It was his direct line-mate. The leader of the right row and also, one of the other centaur who has been requisitioned at the same time as him. A bright golden-coated akhal-teke with a pretty face, named Bone-Sack. His past was foggy, but seemingly not as pretty as him, since he was now a work-horse, always frowning and appearing to be pissed-off at all times. But he was always one to try harder than the others, like he got something to prove to himself. His metallic fur was white with foam and emanated clouds of steam. He shook his head and clicked his tongue.

"Stop answering this idiot and let me help you. You are gonna injure your leg otherwise. Stay still. I dunno how long the masters are going to stay patient with us… So try not to be more of a hindrance."

Bone-Sack talked with a strange irritated tone. Full of shards and scorn.

Did I do something to this guy ? Thought Schimmel. I can't even remember the last time I talked to him, outside of working duties… Did I eat his share or something ?

Still, Bone-Sack turned around and started helping him get up, letting him push on his back to stay steady. This kind gesture lit the movement. Another beast-man behind Schimmel started pushing on his rump with both hands, trying to move him forward. More growls came from the two lines of creatures keeping the heavy catapult still. If they were angry before, they now sounded more and more irked.

"Why did the boss backtrack ? Who backtracks while pulling a siege engine ? What happened ?", Shouted a small centaur on the pusher side, more a pony than a horse. His hooves were slipping on the grass as he rummaged near the catapult, putting on wedges to relieve the puller's backs.

"Nothing of your concern ! Stay in your line !" answered the dark and soft voice of Bone-Sack. His body twisted in a vain effort to keep his own row in check, as the bothered centaurs tried to communicate with one another. Finally, after a moment of rummaging around, Schimmel was freed. He took a few steps, not daring to put weight on his wounded hoof. Satisfied by this outcome, the Handlers seemed to calm down, turning their back on them, waiting for the two chiefs to put their subordinates together once more.

Schimmel looked at the wave of distracted Centaurs and frowned. Better said than done. As the agitation of this sudden stop had awoken a strong desire for a short rest in the tired workers. Like a dissipated classroom, they were keen on sharing their hardship, but not in listening to their leaders anymore. Bone-sack first tried to get the attention of his line. The soft way. Calling to get their attention. But he failed miserably and started pulling all by himself, trying to force the others to join in as he put pressure on their harnesses. Still, the centaurs showed only displeasure, pulling slightly on the ropes, for show, not even putting small efforts into it.

Bone-sack sighed heavily and ran a hand into his uncombed golden hairs.

"Sometimes, I hate my own kind."

"You don't say !", retorted Schimmel, massaging his twisted leg. It was not a big wound. But still, it hurt. "These guys are worse than child's. They never listen."

"We can't really blame them. Being pushed around by us, their juniors, when we have less experience and are less working-horses than they are… It must have wounded their pride."

"Ha ! I'm not surprised they lost half of their late herd with this mindset. Pride does not keep you alive nowadays. I mean, we're Centaurs. It's a luxury we can't afford."

"You're heartless… But maybe not wrong. Try not to be heard saying this kind of shit, by the way. Bill would fight you to the death, for these words. Don't want to piss the "real leader" of the herd, y'know ? Anyway, let's cut the chit-chat for later and get your line to work ! I'm dying here, pulling all alone, if you didn't realize !"

What d'ya mean "real leader", friend ? I'm the real leader ! So they have to listen to me, even if they don't like it ! Even Bill ! Technically… At least, that's what the handlers think. And what the Handlers think, has the effect of law ! Right ?

Schimmel touched his harness, not really knowing how to get the attention of his companions. They were all deep in conversations now. He took a deep breath, settling for a whistle before stopping his motion.

The smell of H2O was lifted by the wind. A refreshing cloud in the middle of smoke and iron. A certain vibration pulsated all around. A vibration Schimmel could recognize while blinded.

The centaur eyes turned slowly towards the horizon. His ears tensed when he saw the black nebula taking over the firmament. The night was deep. In the distance, the never ceasing sounds of explosions and battling were heard. Flashing lights like thunder radiate through the murk. Stars, lit and flickering, were like candles over his head. Snuffed out with the suetes. The large moon was hidden, her light, weak and yellowish. She seemed sick, too full, ready to puke. Schimmel gulped loudly, a tense apprehension taking over his whole body. Further, up the hill and over the abandoned city surrounding the convoy, a mountain was rising. A black figure looming. The Koram, separating the East Empire from the lands of the Magmeld clan. Just at its bottom, in the Valley of the Resting Souls, will be held the last battle for the ownership of Magmeld and it's divine river : Lehel.

And the closer they were from it, the more Schimmel felt drawn to it. The more they walked, the more a sentiment of dread got to him. The more he thought about it, the more he could feel the water and it's mood. Sending a shiver down his spine. Making him reel from anguish. It was surely the influence of the spirit inhabiting the river. It was known to call on unclean souls, or people full of turmoil to heal them. Appeasing their fears. Enriching their hearts, giving them a calmer mind…

As well as changing them forever in the process...

And Schimmel was a good candidate for that. For he had always been, by essence, afraid.

He was a coward. Unable to say no. Unable to stand. Unable to grow a spine. Just, gifted with good actor skills. Surviving on bluff and begging for his life when the bluff did not work.

And water was one of his strongest fears.

Each time he saw a branch of the Lehel flowing, even dimly, he was shocked still by its aura. He couldn't escape the movement of the waves, the clear image of the world getting distorted, the smell of the foam, the lapping of the stream… He wanted to drink it. To throw himself at it. To breathe it.

To drown in it.

From memory, Schimmel always felt stiff at the simplest glimpse of water. The idea of crossing a river terrorized him. A lake was a source of numerous nightmares. The ocean was his imperious enemy.

And rain… Rain was… The worst. Because of one thing.

The rain was able to sing.

His name rose in a near conversation and made him flinch. He returned to reality with a gasp, focusing his attention on the voices of the centaurs.

"It was the flash of red that surprised him ! Poor Schimmel… After all, the explosion was just around the corner. I would be reassured once we arrived at the frontier. I want to be safe again !" cried a far-away lamenting tone. He was answered with lots of humming and puffing. Typical Centaurs pride in action. Most of these beasts would rather die than admit to being afraid. So, the group turned away from the weak and his avowal, refusing to acknowledge him… But not invalidating him either.

"It was kind of impressive, right ?" Said a calm and deep voice. "Reminds me of the fire-works we got at home. The capital is so pretty when new-year hits. It's full of elemental's and decorations. And don't start me on the ladies and their garments...", sight a puller with melancholy.

"You were working in Esus ? Whoa ! What did you do there ? Sell street-food with your master ? Wasn't it complicated ? I thought the Emperor forbade horses near his Palace ?"

"Joke on you, I did sell street-food ! The best grilled-calamari in the whole city ! And I never had any problems, nor my master. I mean, we are not full horses. And the Emperor still needs people to replace the equines, since his late father kinda just banished them from Tairngir. Poor one. So young, and at war already. This kid was left with a full bucket of problems and no solutions..."

"Let's hope he will be less paranoid than his spawner. I don't want to be chased around like a monster. Nor see my meat get grinned for his glory on New-Year. I'm sick of seeing my kin getting beheaded over mere assumptions or monstrosity..."

"Talking about new-year illuminations, I wonder if the cultivator who actually made the explosion was working in the industry before ? I would love to ask them."

"Are you crazy ? I don't want to meet the practitioner who created this inferno ! Let's just focus on the task at hand and maybe, we will be able to see the next new-year festival..."

Cultivator, mage, druid, necromancer or elementalist… Don't tell before you know, bro, thought Schimmel. Too many magical prowess were feasible in this world. And even if the Cultivation practice was one of the most popular around, since it was known to open the gate to immortality (and flying swords, Schimmel always thought flying swords were the coolest thing), it was not the only one available. Schimmel had seen practitioners in action on the battlefield. Whatever their kind, they were all too powerful. Too dangerous. Uncontrolled and uncontrollable. It was not for nothing that these guys were feared to the death. And that most of the future geniuses of any type of magic were amputated from their core, soul, heart or anything that could fuel their talent, before they even awakened. Just a handful could face an army easy-peasy. And there were too many scattered around Sidh already.

The world had enough trouble with wandering monsters, stupidly dumb gods, incomprehensible entities, wailing ghosts and putrid horrors, to risk power being taken by magical studs, all thinking high and mighty of themselves. The problem was : These guys were dangerous, yes. But essentials. No simple farmers, soldiers, monks, merchants or whatnot could fight the wilderness of Sidh. They had to be specialists. So, the question was : How many were needed and how many were gonna be sealed away ? This was a tough subject among the Clans of every region. Likely to create tension, or worse, full wars...

Kinda like this one. Hum...

Schimmel was deep in thought about it and heard the rest of the conversation with one ear.

"New-Year… It's not even far in the future ! Six months to go and everything will be sparkling with spirits and golden embellishment. In my home, with my master family, we were doing a great banquet to celebrate. Exchanging gifts and all. Playing with the cinders and small magical fireworks... I can't wait for it !"

"In my home, well, we were killing a goat as an offering to the local fortune. It was bloody."

"Gross…"

"To each their own ! Until then, if you like fire-crackers so much, you still have the battlefields you can visit..."

"You wish I did, heh ? Hum ? Hey, don't you think the ground is very wet here ?"

"Wet ? It's always wet around here. It's raining every two days. What's d'ya mean ?"

"Na, it's just… I feel like I'm slipping. More than usual. Or more like… Getting… Pulled ?"

A loud bang resonated between the hollow buildings. Then, the calls of panicked centaurs as half of them ended up falling violently, hauled by the sudden drifting of the catapult. They slided a few meters, wailing loudly, their hooves towards the sky. The Handlers jumped aside in surprise, the soldiers ran out of the way. The siege weapon slowly descended the hill. Bone-sack, shaken but not vanquished, got his hands on the ground, letting his fingers draw furrows in the soil, pegging his legs in the dirt in hopes to slow the diving of the catapult. Schimmel, who miraculously had stayed up, started pulling the heavy wooden equipment. But it was inefficient. When Schimmel thought that he was going to be swept away by the motion, another bang reverberated. Accompanied by the sound of cracking bones. And the engine stopped. A few seconds passed, before it seemed evident that the thing had stabilized for good.

Schimmel removed his harness in a hurry. Bone-Sack cried in desperation while getting up, his beautiful coat now green with grass stains.

"The wedges weren't on ? This all time ? Who's the stupid fuck who forgot to put the wedges, while stopped, on a hill ! Who's responsible ? I want a name !"

The tough growl of Bill answered as Schimmel ran down the hill to check on the pushers. These "bangs" were not announcing good news. When he arrived in the back, all he saw was red. The pushers were already at a certain distance from the catapult, eyes filled with horror. Bill, crouched near the scene of the accident, looked bitter. When Bone-sack turned-up as well, he gasped before turning his head to the side. Suppressing nausea. Bill saw him and sighed.

"That's right. Keep your anger to yourself, pretty boy. The culprit is not here to be blamed anymore…"

What a way to say things, thought Schimmel. Better describe reality for what it is, than trying to put poetry in it. The centaur wasn't "not here". He was here. Just, reduce in a bloody mush. His body was crushed under the catapult. Schimmel didn't even hear his screams in the middle of the mess. His stare fell on the remains. A whole arm was stretched towards him, as to implore for help. The man-torso of the beast was still visible, laying in the pool of his own hemoglobin, his long hairs floating in it. Schimmel approached and gently took the chin of the centaur between his fingers, turning his face around. His expression was one of gentle surprise. As if he was laughing just a moment ago, before death took him. It was a very pretty picture. Almost peaceful. But, on the other side of the scenery... The guy had visibly been first swallowed by one of his hind hooves. The crushing must have been painful. Slow and painful.

Strange.

As Bill walked away, he smashed the face of Schimmel with his tail, putting dust in his already irritated eyes. The white centaur got up instantly, chasing the bristles with a wave.

"I wanted to congratulate you, you animal." Bill's, started. "Because of your fuck up, another kid died. And we are stuck here until we get his corpse from under there. Really. Congrats."

"Not my fault, Bill. And you know it."

The Andalusian huffed, offended on the dead behalf.

"If we didn't stop, he wouldn't have to put the wedges on in a hurry. He fucked up and one of them jumped out. He tried to push it back under the wheel and ended up crushed. All because of your clumsiness."

"So what ?", sharply retorted Schimmel.

A silence answered him. A dozen eyes locked on him, Schimmel realized that his words were harsh. And not appreciated one bit, by the grieving centaurs who had seen their companion die.

Schimmel's face went apologetically down.

Guys, that's obviously not what I meant ! Come on !

But the damage was done.

Bill took a halt, savoring the confusion, his back straight. Like this, he was topping Schimmel by a good ten centimeters. Not talking about the weight difference. The grey half-beast articulated slowly.

"So, take your responsibilities. Take his position. Put someone else on the lead for the left line."

Schimmel's body went cold. His expression darkened. His eyes went stiff on Bill's face. Open wide with animosity.

"Are you kidding ? Do you seriously want to go on this court ? Right now ?"

"Absolutely not. I'm not heartless. I just want you to think about today and realize that, maybe, you are lacking the experience to be the leader of this herd. But since, for now, you still are the official chief, at least in the Handlers eyes… You should take care of him.", said Bill, pointing to the bloody mess under the catapult. "And also, talk to the masters. I'm sure they will be overjoyed to hear about this incident. We all know they favor you, for some reasons..."

The pullers shook their heads in appreciation. Schimmel's tone grew louder, as he tried to defend himself.

"They don't favor me ! I'm just doing my job correctly and they like it. And the pushers, victim included, are under your liability, Bill, not mine ! That's what the handlers will tell you."

"Even when I tell them about how you were just standing still, waiting for an accident to arise, when we could have move a long time ago ? Because you were yawning at the clouds ? And don't lie, everyone saw it. Bone-Sack was the only one pulling."

"You wouldn't dare…"

"Wanna bet ?"

Bill took a step forward, entering his personal sphere. The pushers rounded them, starting to whisper bets and names. Bill grinned. Schimmel showed his teethes, a low growl building up in his chest. When suddenly, the shining presence of Bone-Sack interrupted. The golden horse scraped his throat, before diffusing the situation.

"The handlers are already off, y'know. I've talked to them while you were… Doing your usual show. They went looking for a replacement in a village nearby, for the dead-one. They gave us what's left of the night, as long as we don't make any more sounds. We're still near a battlefield.... The humans are resting already, as well as the pullers. You are the only ones left."

"So what if they are gone ?" said Bill, still not moving. "What's happening here is none of your business. Leave.", he added, while giving him a raging stare. But Bone-sack didn't back-off.

"Listen, I understand. You're pissed. Everyone is pissed, right now. But accidents happened. We have been pulling and pushing this thing across the South for a month now. And we just got out of the danger zone. We are all tired and restless. So, I'll advise that we all take a big rest and talk that over, after some hours of sleep. What do you think guys ?"

The other centaurs stood surprised as Bone-Sack implicated them in the tense discussion. They hesitated, before one of them stood off and started talking and rubbing his hands.

"You're right. I just want to lie down already. I think we all want to lie down.", the now official spokesman turned towards Bill. "Can't we sort out the details later ? It's not the first time people have died on the job. But it's the first time it goes out of proportion. I don't understand why. Plus, I'm uncomfortable after what happened. The body is still here, waiting… His soul can still hear us. But maybe you two were close, Bill ? Is there something we don't know ? Were you friends ? Do we need to make a ceremony ?"

The Andalusian finally took a step back and Schimmel suppressed a sigh. His heart was beating fast. He didn't want to admit it, but Bill was intimidating. And Schimmel had never fought in his whole life, against such a scary opponent.

He never fought at all, to be honest !

"No. Not particularly." admitted the grey beast. "But I want justice."

"Of course !" Interrupted Bone-Sack once more, putting his arm around Bill's collar. "And you will have justice. Let me offer you something for your troubles. See, I got my second in line who's a little more fit to be a pusher than a puller. You picture him ? Well, he always wanted to switch positions. What if I'll lend him to you until the replacement arrives ? He's a strong and level-headed half Frisian. Big guy. Strong. But obedient."

"Are you out of your mind, Bone-Sack ? The guy never agree...", cried out Schimmel. But he was instantly silenced by the Akhal-Teke, jumping on him, almost pushing him. His eyes were filled with a cold-light.

"Shut up already ! You prefer to fight Bill ? Let me know so I can just tell him to fuck off, if that's the case ! Otherwise, shut it !" he whispered aggressively.

Schimmel pinched his lips and looked elsewhere. Sure ! He wasn't gonna argue with Bone-Sack. He was by far more terrifying than Bill in these moments.

The Andalusian, on his side, seemed to chew on the trade. Bone-Sack walked beside him, pulling him close, looking sharp and charming.

"Come on, Bill. You're wise. This guy will be good for your team. He will give you more importance."

Bone-Sack hands drew a half-circle in the air as he spoke the last word. Bill's eyes shined with a strange flash, following the gesture. A time passed, before he agreed reluctantly.

"But you take care of the corpse !" he said, moving his finger around. "And I'll keep him if the replacement is not satisfying. Everyone can pull, but not everyone can push, right ?"

"Right." grinned Bone-Sack, while Bill let his eyes wander on his delicate arms. He tried to reach out and his fingertips were almost brushing Bone-Sack skin when the golden-beast dodged out of touch. His smile was shaking. He tried to wrap it up quickly. "So, it's a deal, then ?"

"Yeah. Deal." answer Bill, softly.

They shook hands for a little too long and parted. Bone-Sack waved Bill goodbye. But Schimmel was unsatisfied. Deeply unsatisfied by this outcome. Even if these kinds of disputes and arrangements were not a rare occurrence while on the job, this one seemed off to him. Probably because he never took part in any deals before and the method looked horrendous.

Seriously, Bone-Sack. Don't toy with your fellow's lives like this...

Once Bill was out of sigh, the golden haired centaur turned around, his usual cold-face back on. He brushed his arms and hands on the grass, as to wash himself. Schimmel was about to thank him, his head low, when he was cut by the harsh voice of the Akhal-Teke.

"So. How are you gonna show gratitude ?"

Schimmel blinked, taken aback.

"Gra… Gratitude ?"

"We do not talk for a whole month. Or, almost never. You play the loner, just doing the bare minimum to keep the appearance. You play the tough guy, not even trying to get to know the boys. I'm pretty sure you don't know half of their names. Not even his." hissed Bone-Sack, while rolling his eyes and pointing at the corpse. "You are anti-social and ineffable. And you think I'll save your sorry ass out of pure and sudden compassion ?"

The white-one blinked even more. Lost for words.

So that's how people see me ? He thought helplessly. I'm not… I'm not so cruel ! I just want to avoid trouble !

And here, he was so sure that with the title of herd leader, he would repel problems… It seems it was quite the contrary. He stroked his fingers vigorously, nervous, while talking.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I didn't want to…" he tried to explain. But Bone-Sack lifted his hand up and he stopped. The Akhal-Teke seemed more and more annoyed by the minute.

"All this mess happened for a reason." said the golden-centaur, closing his eyes and crossing his arms. "It's because you are the herd leader only and I mean, only, on the paper-works. You've never challenged Bill. You've never accepted any of his challenges. If I did not interrupt you before, you would have let him have his way. Right ? Cause you have accepted the position of leader without thinking. Don't lie, I was there. You were not even looking at your master when she was explaining the task."

Schimmel did not answer, dejected. It was the truth. He was looking elsewhere, towards a basket of fresh fruits he just delivered at the garrison, just before changing job. It was full of big and bright scarlet apples and hay. A rare sight in these trying times… He was salivating hard, just remembering about it. Bone-Sack sighed.

"By the Gods you're an embarrassment." he slipped. "Listen. You have to beat Bill ! We will soon be at the frontier battlefront. It's gonna be hectic there. We need a strong leader or everyone will run wild and mess things up. Even more if we got two big guys fighting each-other."

Schimmel shoulders slumped.

"Why not you ?"

"I've tried. The first day of our arrival. I had to surrender and play nice to escape unharmed. But you, I think you have the guts."

"I'm not sure", hesitated the beast. "I mean… It's not like I never thought of fighting him. Bill's a real hassle ! But… I'm afraid. I've never fought anyone before." Schimmel pointed to his fur as proof. His pure white, pale body was unarmed and left free of any scars or marks. "And Bill is… Well, first, he is big as hell ! And he is a leader… Good or bad, I would not dare say. But, maybe… Just, maybe... I should leave him be..."

"He's as good as a leader than I could be as a rattle-snake." cut Bone-Sack. "It's not for nothing that the Handlers never gave him the official lead in an entire year. If they did, he would be a tyrant."

"Still, I don't know how to win against him. Even less survive him… He seems to really hate me. Wouldn't he kill me if I tried to challenge him for the herd ?"

"That's why you are so afraid ? Because he hates you ?"

"Hum…"

"Well. Don't worry about that. He will certainly kill you for having challenged him, but knowing the brute, it will be quick. A big rock behind the head or something of the sort."

Schimmel froze in shock. Bone-Sack smiled. A big and beautiful smile on a handsome face. But nothing in that expression was warm or welcoming.

"Was it meant to comfort me ?", the white-centaur complained.

"No. To harden you. Listen Schimmel, you obviously have it in you to oppose him. I mean, you didn't even flinch in front of… That." He pointed at the corpse nearby without looking. "You are just lacking assurance and social skills. So, we will work on that."

"I'm not sure I want to…"

"It was not a question."

Schimmel shook his head in denial and his long curly mane flew in the breeze. It was reeking of smoke. Smoke and death, from the late explosion. The centaur sneezed and Bone-Sack laughed drily.

"Prepare yourself. You will have to change soon. I don't want Bill to turn into me once he will crush you. And he seems to have a burning desire to do that before we arrive. Now, get back to work. You still have a poor soul to bury. We don't want this guy to turn into an evil spirit and haunt us, right ?"

Schimmel died a little bit inside, glancing over his shoulder to the hot mess on the ground. He turned to Bone-Sack, his voice pleading.

"You are not gonna help me ? But, you said..."

"I know what I said. And I know that I will puke if I take just one step further. So, pretty please ? You can take that as your first task to get more… Assertive."

Schimmel looked at the golden-boy with sadness and resignation.

There was no way around it, right ? He tried so hard to be pleasant, give people their space and be efficient, that he ended up stepping on everyone's toes. He almost wanted to cry. His peaceful days appeared as an offense to the herd. All his efforts were wasted into nothingness. Him who wanted to be a ghost, to be a forgotten leader, was now bound to fight his way to the top.

But even if he won, wasn't he gonna be sent away once more after this mission ? What the hell, world ? Why were the Centaurs so… So… Primitive ? Couldn't they all be friends or indifferent, like the human warriors ? They never fought their own clan for petty reasons ! Or, he thought... They were all too busy with growing their souls, or cultivating their cores, or hardening their hearts and whatnot. Humans were always busy with some magical stuff, or war stuff, or stupid scientific stuff, or agricultural stuff… Humans were generally busy.

A headache pointed at the brain of Schimmel as he thought more and more about humans and their strange habits.

Well. Maybe being primitive was better for the mind. He just had to win big once and everything will be over. But for now, he had to get a cadaver out of the way.

Bone-sack sat near him, talking to the wind as Schimmel fell on his knees to shovel the corpse from under the catapult.

He had to be quick. And get away before the rain comes down on him.