Escana (54 page)

'Everything is white,' she said,
feeling like this was a stupid observation.

'You are quite correct,
everything has a very bright aesthetic, the people's sense of dress
tends to be influenced by a mixture of practicality and the
surrounding architecture. That wasn't the defining feature of this
city. Look closer.'

Squinting in frustration, she
couldn't picture anything else in particular that he could be
alluding to. Everything seemed so bizarre to her that it could be any
number of things.

'Walk with me,' El-Vador finally
said when she failed to reply.

They passed the discussion and
one of the old men rose from his bench and hobbled over to them. He
had a bald head and thick white eyebrows, his jowls were prominent
and the loose flesh jiggled as he spoke.

'What do you think Everalm? Is
faith in the almighty something to be mandated by the Emperor through
the existence of Levanin or would you have these Godless heathens
gain access and attempt to... divine,' he chuckled briefly to himself
at that word. '...the workings of the underside? Settle this debate
for us.'

Ella thought that El-Vador would
be annoyed by this intrusion but he gave an uncharacteristic chuckle.
'Dearest Belesdair, faith itself cannot be mandated and it cannot be
placed in that which is demonstrable. Were the almighty to unveil
himself to the people there would be no need for faith.'

Belesdair wagged his finger at
him, cutting El-Vador off mid-speech. Ella grew tense.

'You cannot play your pacifist
games with me old fox, not this time. I want a straight answer from
you and no evading the question. Would you have the proles venture
into the underside? Faithless or not.'

El-Vador seemed to humour him, as
if this were a common occurrence. 'The workings of the underside have
eluded the greatest minds of the previous generations. Do you really
consider someone from the lower caste a threat?'

The old man shuffled awkwardly on
the spot, a number of aged faces grinned up at him. 'I suppose you
have a point again, as usual. Very well, let them set their filthy
feet on hallowed ground, I will shudder upon the sight.'

The conversation seemingly
concluded, they continued walking out into the bright expanse of
Levanin.

'Everalm?' Ella finally asked.

El-Vador smiled. 'Did you not
notice how they addressed only me? We are under what is known as a
glamour. As you can see when I travel Levanin I appear as a kindly
old man, my actual visage would frighten most of the inhabitants.
Look down at your hands.'

She stared at them, again failing
to perceive whatever it was El-Vador was trying to show her.

Noticing the confusion on her
face, El-Vador spoke again. 'You are invisible, that is why you
cannot see your hands. An effect of the glamour I have imposed.'

Ella frowned. 'I can see my
hands.'

It was the first time she had
seen genuine shock written across his face, she sincerely hoped she
hadn't said something horribly wrong.

'Look at me,' he said, turning
her to face him. 'What do you see?'

'I see you,' she said
uncertainly. 'You're the same as you always look.'

El-Vador passed his eyes over his
own hands then in wonder. 'This is most curious. That every other
person I have extended my glamour onto has still perceived me as my
glamour would dictate and yet you have not.'

'What does that portend?' She
asked, intentionally using a word she had picked up from El-Vador's
own writings in the hope of gaining a response.

He waved away her question. 'As I
said, it is a mild curiosity to be thought over at a later time, I
still haven't shown you the distinguishing characteristic of Upper
Levanin.'

They reached the end of a row of
buildings and it was then that Ella saw it.

There was no discernible horizon,
no lands sprawling out in the distance, merely endless blue skies.
She tried to speak but words failed her, instead she wandered closer
to where the tiled flooring seemed to end.

'Upper Levanin is the last
remaining sky city,' El-Vador said as Ella gazed over the edge. A
thick blanket of clouds covered the land below. She felt like falling
and seeing if they would cushion her, then the vertigo hit her like a
brick wall and she staggered backward into El-Vador's arms.

'There are many places in this
world beyond your comprehension,' he said quietly, voice dropping to
a whisper. 'I want to show you them all.'

He grabbed her by the hand and
they plummeted off the edge into the sky below.

T
he lurching
in his stomach told him they had crossed over into the desert now,
that and the sudden wave of heat.

Mayer had cooled considerably
after his refusal to join the recruitment drive in the inn, speaking
only when spoken to and discussing tactics with none of the previous
enthusiasm. More often than not he would abandon the carriage
entirely and sit up front with the rest of the men. Garth could hear
them chatting away indistinctly, he wanted no part of their merriment
and was quite happy that such an irritating man now chose to avoid
him.

The traversing of the desert was
considerably more difficult than the well-maintained roads they had
previously been on. Garth stared out the window at the endless sea of
dunes, so this is where he had been brought to die. So be it, if he
was going to die here then he would do so with his head held high and
taking as many of the opposing force with him as possible.

He spotted the first of many
white tents roll past, it made sense that the encampment was near the
gate, that way there would be fresh supplies of reinforcements thrown
straight into the fray rather than having to march several days in
this heat to make it to base.

Garth just hoped that the camp
wasn't overrun, it would bode ill for the Empire if the enemy
discovered their gate network.

The carriage finally groaned to a
halt, the horses were clearly new to this journey as they protested
about the heat vigorously. The driver took their reigns and offered
them both feed bags, assuring them in a quiet voice that they'd be
home soon. Garth liked the man, who also seemed as wearied by Mayer's
presence and a bemused spectator to their recruitment practices. He
only hoped there would be an abundance of good men in the camp.

He looked down at his feet then,
realising that they still stood on the lip of the carriage, the sand
beneath him was oddly shaded and utterly still. He took a deep breath
of the humid air and planted his foot down upon the Sah'kel desert.
He sensed this was the only respite he was going to get from here on
in.

A pair of guards flanking either
side of the tent gave a sloppy salute as he and Mayer approached the
entrance. Garth stopped in his tracks upon witnessing this.

'You, soldier,' he said, pointing
his finger at the man. 'What's your name?'

'Inglewood sir,' the muffled
reply came from under the closed helm.

The name caused a faint spark of
recognition to flare within him. Garth came closer to the man then,
towering over him. 'Do you know who I am, Inglewood?'

The guard nodded. 'You are our
new superior officer, sir.'

Garth's hands shot out and
clamped themselves on the man's helm, tearing it off and causing him
to lose all composure. 'You will remove your helm when addressing a
superior officer, soldier!' he bellowed at him. 'Now, who am I,
Inglewood?'

The guard looked shaken, he
clearly wasn't expecting this. 'You are our commanding officer, sir.'
He snapped a much smarter salute after this, a minor improvement at
least.

'What is my name, soldier?' Garth
asked, shoving his nose up in the man's face.

'I... don't know sir,' Inglewood
replied, stumbling over the words with a look of terror plain upon
his face.

Garth turned his back on the man,
eyeing Mayer who was seemingly as shocked as the soldier. 'He doesn't
know my name... why doesn't he know my name?' He approached the other
guard.

'Do you know my name, soldier?'

The man tore his helm off so
quickly Garth suspected he'd sprained his neck. 'Sir, no sir!' He
rapped a crisp salute and fear was apparent in his eyes.

'As you were soldier,' Garth
replied, returning to the previous man.

'So, Inglewood. Why is it that
neither of you know my name?'

Mayer stepped forward. 'General,
if I could be permitted to...'

'Silence!' Garth barked, though
he noticed the flash of irritation across Mayer's features. He'd have
to keep an eye on that.

'Well soldier, why don't you know
my name?'

Inglewood was clearly trying his
best not to quiver on the spot. 'We have not received orders about
your identity... General?'

The tone of the question was one
of disbelief, they most certainly weren't expecting their replacement
to be a General. Perhaps they were anticipating someone like Mayer,
which would explain the lackadaisical attitudes.

'That's right soldier, I am a
General. General Garth of the first battalion. What do you have to
say about that?'

Inglewood met him in the eyes for
the first time. 'General Garth? My father had many... interesting
things to say about you sir.'

Garth smirked. 'You're the son of
Castor Inglewood, aren't you?'

'Sir, yes sir!'

'How is the old dog these days?'

Inglewood seemed to relax
slightly. 'He's as crabby and opinionated as ever sir. Said I should
get out here and learn what it was like to have sand in my crotch.'

A smile touched Garth's lips.
'Tell me private. Are you as crabby and opinionated as your old man?'

He saw the panic in the young
boy's eyes. 'I want an honest answer private.'

The panic turned to resignation
and an audible sigh. 'Yes sir, everyone claims I am my father's son.'

'Good!' Garth replied, slapping
the boy on the back and nearly sending him sprawling into the sand.

'I look forward to hearing your
opinions son, don't hold back.'

Inglewood smiled for the first
time. 'Sir, no sir!'

Garth noted the disapproval on
Mayer's face as they marched into the tent.

A bald man in a strange white
shirt greeted them with an obsequious smile.

'Welcome
to
Sah'kel,
General
Garth
and
Colonel
Mayer!
I
am
Sisead, the Emperor's representative for this area. My task is
to act as liaison between those involved in war and the powers within
Levanin.'

Garth
immediately disliked the corpulent man, there was something slimy
about his overly-friendly attitude. Then again, ignoring the man
would probably do more harm than good.

He
shook Sisead's soft hand firmly and tried not to let his thoughts
betray him. 'A pleasure to meet you, Sisead. I hope our working
relationship can be mutually beneficial.'

Sisead
nodded, all smiles. 'Should the Emperor and his advisers have any
further instructions for you I shall relay them to you immediately.'
He took a look at the map sprawled out on the table. 'You appear to
have much work to do, I shall show myself out. A pleasure meeting you
both.'

Mayer
walked over to the huge map that seemed ten times larger than the one
Garth had studied in the carriage and blew a thin layer of sand off
it. 'Shall we?'

Garth
nodded, it was time to get down to work.

'
W
ho
are you?' Gadtor asked the darkness.

If
Thom had heard him he didn't deign to respond.

'I
know you claim to be a local Warden for a small area outside of
Urial. I've seen local Wardens though, they're small and petty
bullies that tend to let their henchmen do the work.'

Still
no response.

'Yet
you rode out to Urial alone, unaided and still carrying a noticeable
limp from some previous confrontation. That's not something a simple
Warden would do.'

Gadtor
was beginning to feel like he'd not get much change out of this
conversation. 'Look, we're both going to die shortly after this
journey is over. We may as well die knowing who the other person was,
it's not like my knowing will make any difference to your situation
now.'

Thom
shifted position, he had a habit of doing that when Gadtor asked a
question. 'If it doesn't matter whether you know or not, why should I
bother telling you anything? Why don't you tell me all about who you
are instead and I'll pretend to listen.'

Gadtor
sighed. 'Very well then.'

He
uncrossed his legs, trying to prevent the pins and needles that were
stealing over them. He had heard of men losing limbs from their time
in captivity simply from not moving. Something to do with the blood
flow.