“Attention!” Liam’s voice rang out across the parade ground at the infantry barracks in Kandara. The assembled men snapped to a stiff posture. They were dressed in their best Imperial uniforms, having cleaned up after the long march back from the desert. It had been a long, demoralizing duty for all the men, in both the infantry and cavalry units.

The retreat Lysander ordered was more like a rout. After they broke and ran, the men found cover from the griffin cavalry. To the men in the air, it appeared as if those running below had appeared from the shifting waves of heat rising over the desert sands. Liam had ordered an immediate cover formation to cover the retreat and the men had reassembled in knots of two or three, back in the camp they had left that morning. Fully half of those who had begun the forced march as the sun rose failed to return.

Men continued to straggle in over the course of the night. In the morning, Liam ordered their return to their home barracks in the nation of Thasash. Now, they were lined up before him, Liam’s own men ranged behind him alongside the assembly area. Liam cleared his throat as he prepared to address them all.

“We have gathered today to celebrate the loss of one of our own. Commander Lysander Hammersong made the ultimate sacrifice in the sands of Yometh Robak. In a valiant effort to fulfill his duty to the Empire, Commander Hammersong led his men against superior forces on their home turf. In the best traditions of the Imperial Legions, he gave the last full measure of devotion to protect his Empire and his men. Despite suffering several wounds, many of them critical, he managed to slay a great many of those arrayed against him, and as his last act called for a strategic withdrawal, which saved the lives of countless of his men.”

There was a slight stirring among the men at this last. They knew that Lysander’s order had indeed saved their lives. But at the price of sounding the first defeat the Imperial Infantry had faced in three hundred years. That fact did not sit well with many of the men. But each of them was grateful that they survived the battle, largely because of Lysander’s bravery.

“For these acts of valor, I hereby accord Commander Lysander Hammersong the Imperial Order of the Griffin, the highest honor that any soldier can achieve. We will now lay him to rest.”

An honor guard of six men carried the commander’s body onto the parade ground on a wooden plank. Leading them was the man who had been next to Lysander when he fell, and who had carried the body from the field of battle. When Liam had spotted him, he had a griffin dispatched to carry both the solider and the body back to camp.

As they passed before Liam he called out again. “Salute!” The assembled men drew their swords and held them in the air as the honor guard marched by. Liam took his griffin’s reigns and followed the body to the funeral byre.

As the men laid Lysander to rest upon the wooden pile, Liam reached to his griffin’s wing and gently clipped a flight feather from it. He held it up for the assembled men to see, then slipped it between Lysander’s fingers, which were clasped over a decorative sword. “May this speed you to the afterlife,” Liam said softly. With a nod, the men of the honor guard set the logs aflame.