Escana (43 page)

It was a largely perfunctory
business after that, they were loaded up like cattle and soon set off
at a slow trundle toward the city gates with the guards marching
alongside.

Jimmy had expected an angry mob
to greet them, pelting them with rotten food and calling them foul
names, nothing of the sort occurred. The streets were decidedly empty
and anyone that witnessed the cart rumbling into view either kept
their distance or wanted nothing to do with a large contingency of
guards after recent events.

Jimmy had reluctantly stayed near
The Hermit at his beckoning, Jakob joined them after being called by
name. They had all stood silently then, watching the streets pass by
without a word left to say.

It wasn't until much later that
Jimmy had finally turned to Jakob, who was experimentally running his
hands against the frame of the cage as if he was planning on tearing
that off too.

'You haven't said a word to me
since you recovered.'

Jakob finally let go of the cage
and sighed. 'I suppose you want to know what happened after we got
separated, don't you?'

He nodded, waiting for him to go
on, The Hermit watched the conversation with a strange expression on
his face that Jimmy couldn't read.

'Well?' Jimmy asked, growing
frustrated at the lack of response. 'Are you going to tell me what
happened?'

Jakob eyed The Hermit wordlessly,
this only caused Jimmy's frustration to grow. There was something
unspoken between the two of them that he wasn't privy to and the
enforced mystery was driving him crazy. He felt as if he were merely
the catalyst for some larger point of contention and upon fulfilling
that role he had been promptly forgotten about. Now it seemed like he
was stuck with a companion that wouldn't answer and one that couldn't
answer.

He flung his arms up in
frustration and settled down onto the floor, purposefully refusing to
meet either of his 'friends' in the eye. If either man seemed put out
by his behaviour there was a distinct lack of any effort on their
part to make amends.

He watched the countryside sail
past in a slow panorama, if he tried hard enough he could almost
envisage it without the bars framing his sight. The pervading thought
came back to him harder than ever before. He wished he could just go
home and never leave the inn again, to wake up and find a hard day's
work ahead of him with no prospects of imprisonment or exile into a
strange land.

An arm settled down on Jimmy's
shoulder, he jumped involuntarily at the touch then discovered that
The Hermit had come closer. He looked into the older man's eyes and
saw profound sorrow in them, it was an unspoken apology and one that
he desperately needed. His silent protector settled himself beside
him, still keeping his arm on Jimmy's back in a supportive manner.
For some reason Jimmy found tears had come to his eyes unbidden. It
had been a terrible day.

I
t had been a
long and fruitless effort but he was damned if he was going to go
down without a fight. At least half of the latest shipment of
destroyed weapons and armour had been crafted into serviceable
fashion again. Granted, the standard was somewhat lacking but given
the magnitude of the task it was more than acceptable for a rushed
job.

It was a mixture of seething
anger and pride in his work that drove him on, pushing back the
welling pit of hopelessness. He worked the entirety of the day,
pausing briefly for water and little else before continuing through
the night and deep into the following morning. Nobody approached him
about the noise throughout this, they had seen the task that had been
set before him and knew better.

It had been more than he had ever
done before, that much was apparent. He had wondered of late whether
the impossibility of the workload was more a reflection of his age
and skill than anything else. That niggling idea had been put to rest
by the vast amount of repairs he had conducted in a haze of sweat and
anger. In spite of this the satisfaction of doing so was hollow when
he knew all his efforts still weren't going to be enough.

For the first time in an age he
considered the possibility that not hiring an apprentice was a
mistake. It wasn't a long thought, he didn't tend to linger on things
that he couldn't change, instead choosing to live in the moment.
Ultimately he could have hired three men and they still wouldn't have
completed the work in time, if anything the extra bodies would have
hampered his own efforts somewhat.

His thoughts felt compressed as
if a great weight was pushing itself down upon his brow, he knew the
tell-tale signs of exhaustion better than most and had forced himself
to lay down his tools and accept his fate.

He had washed then and donned a
fresh set of clothing, not wanting to give his visitors the
satisfaction of seeing him toil to the last possible moment.

The wagon was immaculate in its
timing as always, it was with a sense of resignation that Garth
realised it was nowhere near large enough to fit all his repairs.
They clearly knew that there was no way he could complete this final
task asked of him. He only hoped his replacement in the wagon could
finish what he started in time, for the sake of those in desperate
need of armament on the frontier.

The horses came to a halt in
front of his Smithy, he waited patiently as the rider dismounted and
opened the wagon door, extending a small set of steps and mutely
beckoning Garth toward them.

Three muscular young men exited
the cart and walked past Garth without word. The smith didn't bother
acknowledging them, he need not guess why they were here.

Another smaller man exited the
wagon, flanked on either side by a guard. It all seemed rather
unnecessary to Garth, what was the man expecting him to do? Fight his
way to freedom? He silently wondered how many had attempted that very
thing prior to this visitation. No, there would be no running away
from his responsibilities any longer.

'General Garth,' the man spoke
jovially, sticking his hand out without the slightest sign of
trepidation. Garth shook it tentatively, he wasn't expecting such
pleasantries.

'I am Colonel Mayer, sir. We are
here to safely escort you from Escana to Sah'kel, we trust that your
business is concluded here?'

The tone was more as if the man
was retrieving him from a brief excursion than discarding twenty
years of livelihood. He knew he should be more upset at the
belittling of his decision, intentional or not, he had envisaged
things being far less savoury than this and chose to accept it
without quarrel.

Mayer looked about thirty years
of age. His head was shaven clean but he cultivated a slight stubble
to hide a weak jaw-line. This was no man of the field, he had
probably been the nearest recruiter in the area. The rank bestowed
upon him was more likely earned through convincing young men to their
deaths than commanding them on the front line.

He continued to shake the man's
hand, more firmly this time, then in taking a step toward the wagon
he left no confusion as to who they were dealing with. It was like
stepping back into a shadow of the past and finding it fit perfectly,
the words came to him naturally.

'Then let us waste no further
time with formalities Colonel, you can impart information to me as we
travel. Do the horses need rested or are they prepared for the return
journey?'

The Colonel stepped into line and
the guards followed suit, it was all too familiar.

'The horses were changed at Urial
so they are fairly fresh, we can set off immediately if that is your
order. I have been given instructions to brief you on the finer
points of the latest conflict.'

Garth nodded, ducking down into
the wagon and settling himself for the long journey.

The wagon interior was
well-cushioned and sported a table between the seats, the guards
decided not to join them. Apparently Mayer was satisfied that Garth
wasn't going to murder him on the way. Given the pontificating
conversation throughout their journey so far, Garth wasn't entirely
sure that was the case.

He had heard it many times in the
past, the glorious hot-air ramblings of a man who had never seen
combat. There was talk of patriotism and duty and because of his
recommissioned rank, Mayer would often pause in the hope that Garth
would share 'war stories' back and forth. As if war were a hobby, an
amusement to whittle away the hours.

'Colonel,' Garth finally cut
across him, silencing the man immediately. 'You claimed to have a
briefing for the conflict we will be entering. Show me it.'

Mayer nodded, all smiles at the
prospect of performing a duty for a man of Garth's standing. He
pulled out a wooden cylinder and carefully opened it, revealing a
large canvas map with familiar markings on it.

The terrain was a mixture of open
desert and mountainous regions, it didn't take Garth long to notice
fundamental flaws in the positioning of a number of troops. According
to Mayer the army had been split into smaller and more mobile groups
with their own separate command but lacing any centralised
leadership. Apparently that was where General Garth was to come into
play.

He considered asking Mayer about
the opposition they faced that could destroy armour so thoroughly. He
had a feeling the man would be clueless and he already suspected he
knew what was causing it.

It didn't take long for the
irritating Colonel to slip back into his laughs and smiles routine.
It was going to be a very long journey.

T
he familiar
rapping on her chamber door signalled the return of Eli from his
wanderings. She silently wondered to herself whether the boy would
have anything enlightening she could use.

He ran in with a sob and leapt on
the divan, burying his head into her chest and shaking. She didn't
even need to ask what had happened, the Emperor himself had paid her
young servant a visit.

For reasons unknown to her, the
Emperor took great satisfaction in tormenting Eli, who seemed to be
mortally afraid of the man for reasons she could never establish.
Pushing the boy any further could break him so she decided not to
risk it, her previous attempts had resulted in nothing but incoherent
babbling.

She patted his head and made
shushing noises, he wasn't going to get a song from her today with so
many watchful ears and eyes.

Slowing the patting motions as
his breathing steadied, she carefully picked him up and set him on
the divan. Adjusting her dress and eyeing herself in the mirror, she
proceeded out into the hallway.

Eli wouldn't be useful now for
another day or two until he recovered from the latest shock of
running into the Emperor. The boy had a habit of squeaking and
running from the man at the slightest sight of him. She couldn't
imagine the trauma her sweet boy must go through every time the man
had him forcefully brought to the throne room to convey a simple
message. Alissandra was beginning to think that the torture of her
servant was more important to him than the message delivered.

She took her time ascending the
marble steps, carrying her bulk at a dignified pace. His Imperial
majesty could wait, though she was under no illusion that she was
being watched every step of the way.

To a newcomer the magnificence of
Upper Levanin would be almost overwhelming, to Alissandra it blurred
into a nothingness as her mind busied itself with the potential
reasons for her being called forth by the Emperor. Even she didn't
get summoned with any regularity, making each appearance quite the
event.

She stopped at the threshold,
surprised to see that her feet had carried her there so effectively.
The boy standing at the gate knocked a gentle rhythm upon it and the
sound of locks winding down resounded from within.

The throne room wasn't vast but
there was no doubting its purpose. Set in the central point of Upper
Levanin, the walls were cut of the same pure white marble as the
steps and impressive-looking heavy pillars supported the ceiling. A
further flight of stairs gleamed from the light that poured primarily
toward the Emperor. If he seemed put out by the excessive
illumination he didn't show it, it bathed him in a whiteness that
made him seem almost god-like in aspect. No doubt a design feature of
the original architects.

'You encountered trouble in
Urial,' the Emperor said, his plain spoken nature not fooling
Alissandra for an instant.

She bowed low to him then,
prostrating herself before his power. 'Emperor Veran, I am at your
service.'

He bid her rise with a simple but
contemptuous flick of his wrist. 'Yes, yes. We've both heard that old
lie many times. Your spy should have informed you of the happenings
in Urial, tell me all you know.'

The man was insufferable. With
most people Alissandra could pick and choose what she wanted to say
with consummate ease. A different face and a different tone for each
person, fooling any number of people into believing what was
convenient for her. With the Emperor things were different, she had
no idea how the man was aware of her every move. There was no spy
network in existence that could acquire the information he seemed to
possess. Why he called her to counsel at all was beyond her, given
that he seemed to know everything she did already. She felt naked and
threatened by the honesty she had to display before him.