Escana (62 page)

Apparently the tactics had
changed from reclamation of lost territory to having what we hold and
then in the case of the previous commander of the forces, damage
limitation. The area of Sah'kel that had been taken now exceeded the
area that they still held. If they were pressed back to the mountains
they'd be forced to make a final stand to prevent the lizards
invading the northern reaches of the Empire. Should that happen there
would be slaughter on scale Garth had never seen before, he had to
prevent that from happening using whatever means necessary.

It seemed so strange to him to
put it in such simplistic terms, that for all the power of Levanin a
sudden attack from the north was threatening utter chaos on such a
scale that it rendered them powerless to prevent it.

The weight had hit him upon that
realisation, the well-being of the very heart of the Empire had been
placed entirely upon his shoulders at the behest of some unknown
advisor. He had been meaning to ask Sisead who exactly in Levanin had
called for him by name but the curious man had disappeared.

The spirit of many of these young
boys who had joined the army had been set on discovering parts of the
Empire they'd never seen, fighting on the very frontiers of the
established world and finding themselves in the process. The lies
they had been sold catered entirely to that, they hadn't been told
they were going straight to Sah'kel, the desert was the utter
antithesis of the world they longed to thrive in. It was vast and
barren and uninteresting unless you had a peculiar love of sand and
rocks. The only thing a youth might discover about himself out here
was just how lethal sunstroke could be.

He spotted Mayer picking his way
through the edges of the camp with the white-haired veteran known as
Cutter, neither of them looked pleased at Garth inconveniencing them.

As they grew closer Garth got a
good look, his face was worn and criss-crossed with a myriad of scars
of varying age. He had hoped the man's name had come from his skill
with a blade, apparently he had seen the wrong end of one too many
times.

'Lieutenant Cutter as requested,
sir,' Mayer said, saluting as usual.

Garth waved an arm at the tent.
'Let's get out of sun, shall we?'

He seated himself directly in
front of the map and bid the two men join him, upon arriving in the
tent they had seemed to be trying to outdo each other in rigid
attention. Garth had little time for formalities when he needed
information.

'How long have you been in
Sah'kel now, Cutter?'

The man scratched his patchy
stubble, seeming to think about the answer for a time. 'I'd say about
fifteen seasons General, give or take a few.'

Garth nodded, that was a long
time for any soldier. 'It's been over twenty seasons since I was last
in Sah'kel and in many ways not a lot has changed, it's the ways in
which it has that concern me. You're the most senior officer aside
from myself and the Colonel here, I want your assessment of the
situation.'

Cutter shrugged. 'I'm not a
tactical man, they've been pushing us back harder and harder these
last few years. There's more spitters out there too so men that
survive don't in the tents later, most of them stay out there and die
on their feet as they've seen what happens otherwise.'

'Spitter?' Mayer interrupted.

The older man looked at Garth in
askance, Mayer technically outranked him but rank became less
meaningful the harder the situation grew. Garth nodded, indicating
that the man should answer his question.

'Spitters are lizards with a
frill around their neck, they're the ones our scouts look out for as
they're poisoned. A man gets cut open by a spitter then he's dead.
They're not all that common though otherwise I wouldn't still be
here.'

'I've seen two in all my time
here,' Garth said. 'If there's a lot more now that bodes ill,
continue Lieutenant.'

'We've been pinned back near the
canyons for months now, they know where our forces are and they also
know if they take the canyons they can venture on into the mountains
unopposed, devouring whatever northern settlements they come across
first. It's a matter of time before they do so sir.'

Garth looked in the man's eyes.
He was telling the truth as he saw it, there was no glimmer of hope
there, just a silent acceptance that he was living out his last days.

'So things really are that grim
then,' he sighed. 'Lieutenant, if you were in my position, what would
your next move be?'

Cutter furrowed his brows in
confusion. 'You really want me to speak my mind, sir?'

The General nodded back at him
'Speak freely soldier, I want to hear your thoughts.'

The veteran leaned back in his
chair and sucked in a deep breath, he had been waiting a long time to
say this it would seem.

'We're fucked, dead, done.
Perhaps we can hold out for another month, maybe two if we're lucky.
The few advanced scouts that came back tell us they're pouring out of
the rocks like the desert is bleeding lizards. Supply lines are thin
and recruitment has dried up as word has got out about how fucked
things are up here. So there is no winning strategy here, we hold out
against them until we're dead to a man, and trust me we will be dead
to a man. They'll hunt down and kill the deserters for sport.'

Mayer was growing increasingly
agitated as the man spoke his mind, finally interrupting him as he
spoke of the deserters. 'So what? We give up hope completely? We just
lay down our weapons and crawl back to the Empire and wait for
death?'

Cutter's eyes flashed in brief
anger, his fingers twitching noticeably on his thighs. It was clear
that had Garth not been present in the room he'd soon be short a
Corporal. He entertained the idea of leaving the tent briefly and
letting them argue until one was dead, then dismissed it as barbaric.

'We're not going to give up,'
Cutter replied. 'If I had the rank,' he gave the Corporal a withering
look at this, 'I would charge the bastards and take as many of them
as we could in the night as they slept.'

Garth knew what the man was
talking about, the lizards only attacked after dawn, the afternoon
sun was too hot for fighting in and the nights were too cold. When
fighting in Sah'kel you had two enemies: your opponent and the
climate. You needed to master both in order to have a successful
campaign.

Mayer snorted, the young man had
grown increasingly intolerable as the time had gone by. 'Covert
operations to eliminate the lizards have been tried before, nobody
knows where they go at night.'

'That's why we send more scouts
out, have them lead us to their lairs.'

Mayer turned to Garth in
frustration. 'We sent ten scouts out in the last week, one has come
back alive and that's only because he didn't run into anything out
there. What do you think happened to the other nine, General?'

Garth hated rhetorical questions.
'Then we shall ask Levanin to come to our aid, they have forces there
beyond our reckoning.'

Both men seemed united in their
incredulity at his statement then, Cutter was first to voice it.

'What have the fuckers in Levanin
ever done for us other than keep this bloody campaign going and
fuelling it with more hapless lives?'

A gentle cough came from the tent
flap. 'Excuse me gentlemen, I couldn't help but overhear your
conversation turning to your thoughts on our fair capital.'

Cutter paled at the appearance of
Sisead, it wasn't the reaction that Garth had expected from the
hard-bitten man.

Sisead ignored the Lieutenant as
if he was beneath his notice. 'General, we at Levanin are aware of
your circumstances and of how dire the situation is. I shall attempt
to negotiate any aid possible from the capital but I fear that little
will be drawn from such talk.'

Garth sighed. 'Do what you must
Sisead, any aid would be appreciated in these times. How much of our
conversation did you overhear?'

Sisead smiled, the gesture seemed
calculated and lacked any warmth. 'You are contemplating rushing out
in the night and attempting to locate the lizard's hiding places, are
you not?'

'We are considering it as one of
the few options remaining to us, yes.'

'I would suggest against this
course of action. The lizards bury their bodies deep in the sand at
night to ward off the cold, it would become an excavation project to
unearth a single one. Assuming you could find it that is.'

Garth's heart sank. There would
be no covert sting, they would have to fight these monsters face to
face.

'How do you know that they bury
themselves?' Cutter asked.

Sisead ignored him. 'General, my
superiors wished me to inform you that you are tasked with holding
the line. They will reassess the situation when time permits.'

When time permits? Garth pictured
a group of musty old men that had never seen combat weighing human
lives like coins in a global game. In spite of the thoughts angering
him, he knew that this Sisead character was the messenger and did not
deserve his rebuke, regardless of the inferred finality of his
proclamations.

'I thank you for your restraint,
General. I wish the same could be said of your contemporaries.' He
left the room on that, vanishing to who knows where.

It was a no-win situation, a war
of attrition against an incalculably large force grinding them down
into nothing. All that was left for Garth to do was shore up the
defences and see how long they could hold out before these creatures
devoured them.

S
he stared up
at the cloudless sky, it never rained on Levanin. That just added to
the feeling of artificiality that permeated every block of this pure
white plateau. The last week had seen El-Vador come and go on a
variety of errands, now that she saw him for who he was he was more
open about what those errands entailed. An unruly Earl on the fringes
not showing due fealty to the Empire, a roving band of troublemakers
looking to bring about anarchy in their region. What surprised Ella
most about his work was that so little of it involved violence. Here
was someone that could snuff out a life as if it were an afterthought
and yet the majority of the conflicts he claimed were ended
peacefully without any need for his sword.

She had seen it once prior to his
departure, a long obsidian blade with a strange curve and handle. He
had explained that it was almost as old as he was and that he had
never managed to find a name for it as those with such attachments to
their armaments were wont to do.

She brushed the tangles out of
her morning hair with the small ivory comb he had gifted her. He was
a strange creature, he offered no flirtation and made no advances
beyond that of friendship and yet the gifts and tolerance of her
presence when he had no others he called friends indicated that she
was special to him in some way. What was it he saw in her that caused
him to treat her this way?

The noise of a throat clearing
from behind started her, she turned round to see Belesdair smiling
upon her as if her presence here were the most natural thing in the
world.

'I assume you must be young
Ella?' the old man said.

She looked at him for a moment,
wondering how he could possibly see her, let alone know her by name.
El-Vador had assured her that she would be invisible in his absence,
that the glamour would hold in spite of the distance he put between
himself and Levanin. Could this old man see through that?

'I'm sorry if I startled you my
dear. Everalm told me that he had taken a new ward, we were all most
shocked by it given his age. Looking upon your fair face makes me
realise what made him come to such a decision.'

Everalm. That was the name
El-Vador had used in front of this man and his friends, why had he
allowed this man sight of her?

'Anyway, I do believe
introductions are in order as I currently am at a distinct advantage.
I am Belesdair, scholar, philosopher and owner of Belesdair's Books.
Have you heard of me?'

She tried to hide her confusion.
'I am not of Levanin, I am unfortunately ignorant of your ventures,
sir.'

Belesdair gave a faint chuckle to
that. 'Oh Everalm, such a voice she has too and so well-spoken. My
apologies, I haven't informed you of why I have made this approach.
You see, my good friend Everalm invited me to show you around Upper
Levanin in his absence. He says that he had been meaning to do so but
his work had been keeping him busy and his old legs weren't what they
used to be.'

Ella didn't know how to feel
about this, the man seemed well-meaning enough but why would El-Vador
encourage a total stranger to give her a tour of a city when he could
do so quite easily? In all honesty she would have preferred
El-Vador's company to that of Belesdair. In spite of his kindly tone,
she found herself distrustful and wary of this old man.

'By all means, I would appreciate
the opportunity to learn more of this wondrous city.'

She had little choice in the
matter, to reject the man would not sit well with El-Vador. Perhaps
in his own strange way this was a further gift from him, an
experienced resident showing her the city in his own inimitable
fashion. Was there some kind of lesson that he wanted her to glean
from it all?