Myth conceptions by Robert Asprin

“I suppose you’re all wondering why I did that,” I said, smiling.

I had hoped for a response, but the silence continued.

“I appreciate all your advice, and hope you continue to give it in the future. But I’m leading this force, and the final decisions have to be mine.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aahz cock his eyebrow, but I ignored him.

“Everyone, including Ajax, said if I let him go, if I sent him back to Deva, there would be no harm done. I disagree. It would have taken away the one thing the years have left untouched … his pride. It would have confirmed to him his worst fears, that he’s become a useless old man.”

I scanned my audience. Not one of them could meet my eye.

“So he might get killed. So what? He’s accepted that risk in every war he’s fought in. I’d rather order him into a fight knowing for certain he’d be killed than condemn him to a living death as a washed-up has-been. This way, he has a chance, and as his employer, I feel I owe him that chance.”

I paused for breath. They were looking at me again, hanging on my next words.

“One more thing,” I snarled. “I don’t want to hear any more talk about him being useless. That old man still handles a bow better than anyone I’ve ever seen. If I can’t find a way to use him effectively, then it’s my fault as a tactician, not his! I’ve got my shortcomings, but I’m not going to blame them on Ajax any more than I’d blame them on any of you.”

Silence reigned again, but I didn’t care. I had spoken my piece, and felt no compulsion to blather on aimlessly just to fill the void.