FARHAYVEN: VENGEANCE (28 page)

     “Why did you join up
?
” he asked.

     “I thought it’d be a great adventure. Why did you join up
?
” replied Salmon.

     “To stop the Aridytes from raiding our lands,” answered Thorn.

     “What a noble intention
!
Why didn’t you just join a militia or a vigilante group and deal with the Aridytes that way
?
” asked Salmon.

     “I didn’t want to break the law. If I did, how’d I be any different from them
?
” Thorn pointed out.

     Salmon shook his head and pointed a finger upwards.

     “Don’t forget, 900 years ago, we were exactly like them,” he said.

     “Yes, but that was 900 years ago. Meanwhile, we’ve evolved. We chose to become civilised with rules and laws based on truth, justice, compassion and welfare. They, the Aridytes, didn’t
!
” argued Thorn.

     “All right, so you want to kill cousin Ironclub or uncle Facesmasher because they didn’t choose to be civilised
?
Fine by me,” retorted Salmon.

     “Well, at least my reason is better than yours
!
Adventure, huh
!
We’re stuck here washing dishes
!
” snubbed Thorn.

     “Yes, we are. Well, I wish you the best of luck
hunting
Aridytes,” said Salmon figuratively.

     “I wish
you
the best of luck, hunting Aridytes together with
me!
” responded Thorn, and both of them laughed their hearts out.

     Dinner was no less of a routine than breakfast or lunch. A short march to the classroom marked the beginning of their night routine. Two hours of classroom lectures on military doctrine was acceptable as far as their ears and brains were concerned, but not the rest of their bodies. Their limbs had fallen asleep and their torsos were barely upright. Their eyelids felt like boulders and were shut so tight they could not be opened. Their minds were wide awake but their bodies were deep asleep. It was a strange sensation to them and none of them had ever thought that such a thing was possible. The occasional smack on the head by their instructors helped slightly, but only slightly. No smack on the head could ever defeat the weight of ‘boulder eyelids’.

     The shouts of command by their instructors got the whole batch in formation within seconds. They marched away from the classroom in the darkness of night to the parade ground. There their torture continued. Feet-stomping, sit-ups, push-ups, forward rolls, side rolls and all manner of physical exercises were endured.

     After an hour of physical torture, they were told to sit still on the ground. Whatever perspiration that the recruits had produced had evaporated, thus greatly reducing their body heat. And in the cold darkness of night, they were told to uncork their water containers and pour the contents onto their heads. Their bodies shivered in response to this method of torture, for that was what it really was, torture. Another round of commands was issued, and they all got back up on their feet and repeated the events of the first hour all over again. Left, right, left, right, left…

     As Thorn stomped his feet, his thoughts drifted back to his uncle, aunt and cousins whom he had left behind at Forkcreek Village. His parents had died when he was a young boy of the age eight, murdered by robbers. His uncle, Stem, had adopted him and raised him since then. It saddened Thorn that things between them were bitter when he left. And he was sure it had hurt his uncle even more than him. But principles were principles and what needed to be done had to be done. The Aridytes had to be stopped, Thorn reasoned, and that was why he was at Camp Harvest, shivering in the darkness of night, stomping his feet hard on the dusty ground, feeling cold, hungry, aching and downright miserable. ‘This torture is for a good cause,’ he reasoned to himself… ‘for a good cause.’

     The final shout of command was like a sweet melody to their ears. They scrambled back to their barracks and collapsed into their bunks in their dirty and dusty uniforms. Their eyes were shut even before their bodies touched their narrow beds. Their minds became shut and they slept a dreamless sleep. A dark, silent and void-like sleep. So void-like was their sleep that three hours had passed and when dawn came, and the instructors came in yelling to wake them up, they felt like they had never went to sleep at all. They just could not remember falling asleep. Within moments, they were all out there again, in their dirty and dusty uniforms and stomping their feet away to greet a new sunrise.

    
Whoosh!
The metal tip of the arrow stabbed the centre of the red circle on a bright sunny morning. Thorn afforded a smile. A shouted curse nearby drew his attention to Salmon. A quick glance at Salmon’s target board and Thorn could see the reason why he was cursing. There was no arrow on the board. Thorn cleared his throat out loud to get Salmon’s attention. With the grace of a dancer he pulled the string of the bow back, keeping the arrow level with and in front of his eye and then after a short moment of careful aim, gently released the string and arrow while maintaining forward pressure on his bow hand. The arrow twirled itself gracefully across the air and embedded itself next to the first arrow that he had shot. He turned to look at Salmon again and gave him a very smug look. Salmon returned Thorn’s look with his own, the look of dispassion and non-concern.

     But Salmon got the cue that Thorn was sending him. Copying Thorn’s actions, he pulled the string of the bow as gracefully as he could, levelled the arrow at the front of his eye and released it as gracefully as he could. His arrow sped through the air and landed on the red middle ring of the board. Thorn gave him a ‘so, so’ look. Salmon replied by pointing a finger at Thorn and giving him an ‘I’ll get you, someday’ look.

     Thorn shot another arrow which once again landed in the red circle in the centre of the target board. Salmon shot off another arrow which landed on the outer red ring.

     “How the hell do you shoot this stupid thing
?
” cursed Salmon again.

     “It’s not that difficult. You just have to take your time and steady yourself, that’s all. Control your breathing and don’t panic,” said Thorn.

     “Hah
!
Easy for you to say
!
How in Farhayven are we supposed to steady ourselves when an angry horde of Aridytes come running at us with their razor sharp battle-axes
?
Control my breathing
?
It’ll be more likely that I’ll forget to breathe. Anyways, I didn’t grow up hunting in the woods like you did. I slaved away at the farm, day and night
!
” retorted Salmon.

     “I didn’t grow up hunting in the woods either. My uncle was against it. He said that the forest animals never hurt us, so there’s no reason for us to go and hurt them. Live and let live, and all that stuff,” pointed out Thorn.

     Salmon gave Thorn a doubtful look. What game was Thorn playing with him
?

     “All right then, where or how did you learn to shoot so well
?
” asked Salmon.

     “My uncle taught me. But we only shot at wooden boards. He said that we have the right,
and
need
, to defend ourselves against thieves, robbers, raiders and so on. So he taught me how to fight and shoot arrows,” answered Thorn.

     “Ah
!
Well, lucky you. All I knew was farming. All I know is farming. And from the looks of this, I think all I’ll ever know is farming,” said Salmon.

     “Just keep trying, you’ll be able to master archery someday,” said Thorn.

    
Smack!
Thorn stumbled forward. His head felt like a giant bell being rung. He turned around. To his horror, he saw his instructor wielding a baton and giving him a tiger’s stare.

     “Just keep trying,
you will
be able to master archery someday, understand
!?
Caydian Sayvion, you are military now, not some stupid farm boy. You
will
speak in accordance with the official manner, do you understand me
!?
” yelled the instructor.

     “Yes, sir,” was Thorn’s reply.

     “Caydian Verance, come here
!
” commanded the instructor.

     Salmon stepped towards the baton wielding instructor.
Smack!
The baton made contact with Salmon’s head.

     “That was for being stupid
!
” the instructor added and then strode away.

     Keeping silent, Thorn strung another arrow to his bow and shot at his target board. Keeping equally silent, Salmon did the same. The ringing in their heads still went on and on.

     The heat from the mid afternoon sun burnt their necks and faces. The gentle breeze eased their suffering slightly, but only slightly. Their cracked lips and arid throats yearned for cool, life-giving water. But one yearning overshadowed all feelings, emotions or sensations, the yearning for sleep. It had been three months since Thorn reported to Camp Harvest. Only 70 recruits, including Caydians Thorn Sayvion and Salmon Verance, stood here at the parade ground on this day to mark their ‘graduation’ or ‘passing out’. The rest went out the dishonourable way.

     The remaining recruits’ eyes were shut tight. They were semi-conscious at best. Each of them held on tightly to the spear that was in their right hand, using it to steady themselves as they stood sleeping, or was it slept standing. Their bodies swung and swayed ever so slightly as their brains jolted slightly into consciousness, just long enough for them to regain their balance and then faded back into light sleep again. Their ears registered the speeches by their commanding officers and instructors at the podium but their minds did not. Only the shouting command of salutes was strong enough to temporarily break through the fog of sleepiness. Sleep-standing or stand sleeping, it seemed, was to be one of the skills a soldier was required to graduate with. The speeches ended and when the final shout of marching orders came, the recruits were suddenly wide awake, as if they were injected with a lively dose of vitality. They marched out of the parade ground straight into the barracks. Finally they dived into the dreamless sleep that their bodies so desperately yearned for and their minds so willingly surrendered to.

     The creaking wheels of two horse-drawn carts cut shallow trench-like tracks on the muddy midday ground. Servians Thorn Sayvion and Salmon Verance swayed side to side, and along with 12 of their fellow servians, took in the scenery, relaxed and tried to contain their excitement. Their first deployment was to be to the town garrison in Wheatriver. Wheatriver, Thorn explained to Salmon, was a town on the south-eastern foothills of the mountain range that formed Free Falls’ western border with the Arid Plains. It had a history of Aridyte raids and more so recently, for it seemed that the Aridytes had discovered a secret path through the mountain ranges and had managed to avoid Fallsian border patrols from Fort Westguard.

     Thorn told Salmon that there were three Aridyte raids executed in the month before they joined the military. Each raid randomly targeted a remote village on the far outskirts of Wheatriver Town. Salmon listened disbelievingly, for he grew up in Eastern Falls Province where such frequent and random raids were unheard of. Based on Salmon’s experience, Serpentian raids were few and long in-between and were no where as frequent as the Aridyte ones. Thorn stressed that the Aridyte raids were not only more frequent but more severe, as unlike the Serpentian raids that were meant to acquire food, jewellery, precious commodities and slaves; Aridyte raids were focused on food, medicine and human meat, for the Aridytes were cannibals. It was common to find whole villages massacred and the victims would have huge wounds on their chest, where their hearts had been cut out to satisfy the Aridytes’ culinary taste. Salmon almost threw up at the mention of cannibalism. It made the Serpentians look like angels by comparison. Now Salmon knew why Thorn hated the Aridytes so much and why he felt it was important to stop them at all cost.

     Garrison Wheatriver looked just like any other town garrison in Free Falls. It was square in shape, with walls of heavy logs on all four sides thrice the height of an average man and inside the garrison were several barracks, a small prison, a mess hall, an administration building, an armoury, a stable for horses, a small parade ground and a large supply room. Eagle-eyed archers stood watch over the parapets of Garrison Wheatriver and announced the arrival of the new servians. Thorn, Salmon and the others disembarked from their carts and stood in formation. The sun was now close to the western horizon. A grumpy looking exevian turned up and assigned the servians to their new units. Thorn and Salmon were assigned to 2
nd
Stream, 1
st
River, 2
nd
Pond, 4
th
Lake, 2
nd
Ocean; or otherwise designated as 2
nd
Stream, One, Two, Four, 2
nd
Ocean. This meant that they were primarily to function as cavalry archers in the cavalry river of a standard pond in a town in the southern quadrant of North-western Falls.