Lost Army

We marched all night long without a sign of one single prisoner. We found no footprints, and heard no screams. It was almost as if the prisoners dropped off the face of the Earth. Tired, and worn out, I rested on rock. I am aware it is not exactly the best example a general could set for his men, but it was literally my first day. I felt the rules could be bent just a little bit. The soldiers did not share this perspective with me. "What are you sitting around for?" "I'm tired." I reply, foolishly. "We're all tired." He shouts back. "Then you can all sit down." He shakes his head. "We will not." "And why is that?" I ask. "Because we are soldiers. We don't sit around till the job is done." He says, his face an inch away from mine. I casually back away from him. "You guys ever wonder, maybe those prisoners were falsely accused?" "No, we have not." He says thrusting the butt of his spear into the mud. "What makes you so sure of that?" I ask. "Because our lady is never wrong." He says, with venom. "That's precisely the problem. You view her as an infallible being who can do no wrong." The soldier points the spear at my throat. Obviously that was not a matter up for the debate, so I quickly changed my tactic. "I know how to catch the prisoners." "How?" He asks, still pointing the blade to my throat. "We have to think like them. Everyone scream like you've never screamed before." The soldier lowers his spear. He then turns his attention to the others. "You heard him. Give him your best, primal screams." With that, they all let out bloodthirsty, war cries into the morning air.