The Miscreant

by Brock Deskins

  “Did what?”

  “You took off and left me here.”

  “What was I supposed to do? You wouldn’t survive out there, and I had no intention of staying gone, so your brutality is totally unwarranted.”

  “Not totally,” Colin said as Garran unrolled his blanket and sleeping pad and flopped down beside him. “Have you been drinking? You reek worse than my father.”

  “I found a little something to warm my bones.”

  “Where did you find alcohol?”

  “Cyril’s tent.”

  “Before or after you escaped?”

  “After.”

  “Is that why you came back, to steal Commander Godfrey’s booze?”

  “No, but it was an enticing motivator.”

  “Why did you come back then?”

  “Because you are too naïve to survive here on your own.”

  “Bullshit. You are a selfish bastard, and you don’t give one whit about anyone but yourself. What’s the real reason?”

  Garran stared at the pitched roof of their tent, lost in blackness, and sighed. “I really don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  “Wow, an actual honest answer. Thank you. And for your information, I would be just fine without you. I am perfectly capable of protecting myself.”

  “Oh please, it would only be a matter of days before Dominic or any of the dozen or more rapists came calling on you in the middle of the night. Hell, if things don’t work out with Rose, I might even have a go at you.”

  “You’re joking right?”

  “Don’t worry, I’d catch you in your sleep. You wouldn’t even know I was there.”

  “This may be surprising to you, but raping me in my sleep does not make me feel better about the prospect.”

  “You’re asleep, how is it rape?”

  “How is it not?”

  Garran rolled onto his side and faced Colin despite not being able to see him in the dark confines of the tent. “It’s like the old proverb: If a tree falls in the woods, does it make a sound?”

  “Did you rape the tree? If so, I’m pretty confident in saying it did.”

  Garran rolled back over. “You just don’t get it.”

  “I’m going to sleep with my back toward the tent wall just to make sure I don’t.”

  “Stupid damn farmer,” Garran muttered as he pulled his blanket tighter around him and fell asleep.

  ***

  Garran received another two weeks of extra duty but was not allowed anywhere near the dogs or larger braziers. Colin seemed a little disappointed when he found out he was not going to get to whip him. It took just three more days of dreary traveling before they finally reached the main camp. A dozen tents already occupied the large clearing punctuated by stumps left behind by recently felled trees. It appeared as though most of the trees harvested while creating the clearing went into constructing the few solid buildings standing out amongst the tents and men sitting around eating and talking.

  The men watched the newcomers’ arrival with a modicum of interest. The drivers maneuvered the wagons into a semicircle and disgorged their passengers. Garran and the others stood next to the wagons and looked out across the camp. A stack of timbers recently hewed and shorn lay stacked to one side of the camp, as well as twin piles of rock crushed to the size of a thumb knuckle. Tons of cobblestones rested in a mass next to several mounds of sand.

  Large tents able to sleep thirty or more men each replaced the cramped shelter halves. Garran counted perhaps fifty men emerging from the tents or sitting near fire pits when they arrived. They gathered at the nearest end of the camp and watched the newcomers unload.

  Cyril addressed the crew from atop his horse. “Welcome home, but don’t get too comfortable. We move about once every other week as we build the road toward Leva, and we won’t stop until we meet the other crew working their way from the capital. I am going to split you off into teams.” The commander pointed toward the tents. “You see the colored flags attached to the tops of the tents? Those identify each of the five primary crews. Your team leader will assign you to smaller groups. I will call out your name and a color. When you hear your name and team, grab your crap and report to the team leader.”

  Cyril began calling out names and colors. The men picked up their meager belongings and made for the tent that corresponded with their name. Cyril shouted Garran and Colin’s names and directed them both to the green crew. Garran was glad he had assigned him and Colin to the same team, but Colin looked less pleased. He was obviously still annoyed with him, but Garran shrugged it off, certain he would get over it.

  An older man with thinning hair and a short, graying beard waved the two young men over, as well as nearly a score of other arrivals assigned to the green squad. The men gathered around the fire pit smoldering at the intersection between the four tents comprising their squad’s barracks.

  “Gentlemen, my name is Evert, and I’m the team’s foreman. Instructions come from Commander Godfrey to me. I pass those orders to your team leaders who give them to you. Any problems you might have follow the same chain of command in reverse order. Simple, right? That’s the way we like to keep it here. Green squad is responsible for felling, shoring, and shaping trees into timbers that the red squad uses to make buildings, bridges, and any other construction projects requiring carpentry or engineering skills. I’m going to break you off to your team leaders who will assign you your specific duties.”

  Evert began calling names and pointing them to their stations just as Cyril had done. Colin and Garran were once again kept together along with Frank the Free Trader and another man they did not know who introduced himself as Trent. A gaunt man with more gray hair than black beckoned them to him with a sweeping motion of his hand.

  “I’m Raimo, your team leader. Our job is to strip limbs, boughs, and bark so the timber team can shape them into boards and such. Any of you have any logging experience?”

  Garran raised his index finger. “I wielded a reaping blade for the log crews in Wooder’s Bend.”

  Raimo nodded once. “Good. What about the rest of you?”

  Colin knew how to swing an axe for chopping firewood, but that was it. Trent and Frank were both city-born and had no experience whatsoever when it came to lumberjacking.

  “It don’t matter,” Raimo said. “This ain’t bladesmithing. The most important thing is to do what you’re told. If you have a problem, you tell me and I’ll tell Evert. If neither of us can handle it, Evert will take it to the commander. Commander Godfrey’s word is law out here. There is no higher authority, and he has the power of life and death over all of us. We’re lucky. He’s been a fair and decent sort from what I’ve seen. Not all the camp commanders are, so count yourselves fortunate to be here and not in one of the others. Go pick out a cot in this tent here and stow your gear. If you got sticky fingers, you best wash ’em real good. We consider theft to be one of the more unforgivable crimes in the work camps. We ain’t got much, and what little we have we are ferocious in protecting.”

  After picking out their bunks and stowing their few belongings in the footlockers placed at the end of each cot, the men shuffled into the chow hall. The setup was much like it had been with the wagons, only they served the meals inside a massive hall made of rough timbers. A few men chose to take their food outside, but most sat at the tables on long benches.

  Rose smiled at Garran as he went through the line, but they were not able to talk. Garran and Colin sat with the rest of the green team amidst the cacophony of dozens of vociferous discussions. Garran scanned the tables and benches while he ate, and found Dominic speaking with a pockmarked man with long, stringy, black hair and a hawkish nose. Garran looked away when both men’s eyes locked with his.

  Garran nudged Evert with his elbow. “You see those two men three tables over looking at us? Who’s the ugly one talking to the big stupid one?”

  Evert flicked his eyes up from his plate without moving his head. “That’s Clyve. Best stay clear of
him. I don’t know who the other one is.”

  “The other one is Dominic. I had a run-in with him on the way here from Wooder’s Bend,” Garran supplied.

  “If he’s bent on continuing your spat, he’s enlisted a dangerous ally. You watch your back. Accidents happen out here a lot. Most are unintentional, but some are crafted, and none are better at crafting them than Clyve.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  Garran and Colin was still on their punishment detail and was elbow deep in wash water while the rest of the camp gathered around the fire pits talking, singing songs, and playing a few musical instruments they had managed to bring, acquire, or make. When the two lads finally finished their work for the night, they found Evert, Raimo, and a few others of their team near the fire.

  Garran and Colin found a seat near the campfire. Garran could not help but stare at what had to be the biggest person he had ever seen. He was a veritable mountain of a man who must have had more than a little Hillman blood in him.

  Evert noticed his interest and said, “This is Tye. He leads the gray team. They turn big rocks into little rocks.”

  “I feel sorry for the rocks,” Garran replied.

  Evert chuckled. “I’ve been hearing stories about you, boy. Some folks say you managed to escape only to show back up the same night. I’ve seen men run before, but none ever came back of their own accord.”

  “I didn’t have anywhere better to be, and I had a hunch Cyril kept some booze hidden in his tent.”

  “You nabbed the commander’s hooch?”

  “I got a good taste.”

  Evert studied the young man sitting across from him for a moment. “A smart man would trade you to another team, but if I was smart I guess I wouldn’t be here. Why are you two here? You look too young to have earned a sentencing.”

  “Our parents sold us,” Colin answered.

  “That’s a damn shame. I can’t imagine they knew what they were sending you to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Life expectancy in the camps is pretty bleak. The few of us you saw when you came in is all that is left of a crew nearly as big as this one is now.”

  “What happened?” Garran asked.

  “We were working a stretch of road about a hundred miles from here just inside Osage’s border. They caught us in the middle of the night and cut us down like dogs. If it weren’t for Commander Godfrey’s quick actions, none of us would have escaped. Just us few and a handful of soldiers was able to lose ourselves in the darkness.”

  “Who were they?”

  “The official word is that they were raiders, but most are pretty sure they’re mercenary bands hired by The Guild to interfere with the road.”

  “They don’t want the road built?”

  “There’s some debate on the subject. Some say The Guild is trying to destroy the project.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think The Guild knows how to squeeze two coppers together and make a dinarin. If they wanted the project stopped, they have the money to buy enough mercenaries to make it happen, but they aren’t doing that. I think they want to punish Remiel for defying them and will figure out a way to take it over.”

  “If the king doesn’t want them to have it, how could they take it? He’s the king after all, and he controls the largest army in the realm.”

  “The crown lost a lot of real authority after the people removed Arvin the Mad. Much of the king’s former power is in the hands of parliament, and parliament is in The Guild’s pocket. How they might wrest control is beyond my understanding. Frank was saying he thinks The Guild might be trying to bankrupt Remiel to force him to come to them for loans. With the road as collateral, it’s an easy thing to foreclose and take full ownership. They get the greatest trade route ever made without incurring any of the cost.”

  “That’s shitty!”

  “That’s politics and business.”

  Two shapes stepped out of the darkness into the firelight and took a seat. Dominic stared hatefully at Garran, but Clyve smiled and greeted Evert and the others.

  “Evert, I’m jealous. It looks like you got the two freshest fish out of the bunch.”

  “They seem all right. They just need a little experience is all,” Evert replied.

  “What say we make a trade for that one?” Clyve pointed at Garran. “My new man Dominic and I will give him an experience he won’t forget. You know I like them before they get hair on their ass.”

  “I’m not making any trades.”

  “Then we have a little problem. Seems your fish jumped Dominic in the middle of the night and busted him up pretty good. You know the camp laws; we settle our scores ourselves.”

  “He tried to pull me from my tent while I was sleeping!” Garran defended.

  “I was just out to take a piss!” Dominic countered.

  Clyve smiled. “It seems the facts are in dispute. Let’s save everyone a lot of unnecessary trouble. You trade me the fish for one of my men and we’ll be done with it.”

  “He’s as free a man as any of us. I’ll not make a trade, and I’ll not give you what ain’t mine to give.”

  “Suit yourself.” Clyve turned his predatory smile to Garran. “We have our own laws here, boy, and one of them is what’s yours is whatever you can protect. Now, theft is against the law, but your life and your virtue are up for the taking. This is a dangerous place, and the soldiers can’t be everywhere. Sometimes a man can make sure they’re somewhere else.”

  Dominic shared Clyve’s sadistic grin.

  Garran turned to Tye who sat as large and as impassive as the mountain he appeared to be. “Tye, I can’t imagine this place can properly feed a man your size. I’ll give you half my food for a month if you kill Clyve should he, Dominic, or if any agent of theirs cause me harm.”

  Clyve laughed. “You think anyone is going to take up for a fish like you over me?”

  “Make it a third for two months,” the giant rumbled without looking up from the ground.

  Clyve’s mouth gaped open. “Tye, why would you take up for this fish?”

  “Because I’m hungry, and I don’t like you none. Don’t no one like you, Clyve.”

  The red team leader looked around the campfire for support but found none. “I’ve got more friends than you think. You all can go to hell.” He and Dominic stood and made to leave, but he turned and pointed a finger at Garran. “You’ll be the first one I send there.”

  Evert broke the tense silence left behind in Clyve’s wake. “You have a knack for attracting trouble.”

  “He does a fair job of creating it too,” Colin said.

  “Is it true what he said about keeping only what you can protect?” Garran asked.

  “Mostly,” Evert answered with a nod. “Every man has to protect himself and what’s his on his own. It keeps the camp from falling into anarchy. The entire operation would fall apart if our teams turned against each other like rival gangs.”

  “Was I wrong to ask Tye for help then?”

  “No, you made a fair trade, and that’s acceptable, but you also made Clyve your enemy as well as that Dominic character. They each have a legitimate beef with you now and will likely seek retribution. If they do, our laws say we can’t take up against them unless it brings harm to us as well. Then we have our own claims to settle.”

  “What about the soldiers? Aren’t they supposed to protect us?”

  “They are and they do up to a point, but I haven’t met a man yet who couldn’t be persuaded to look the other way. Even so, Commander Godfrey runs an orderly camp, so whatever they try ain’t likely to be overt. No one is going to jump you in the chow line or take an axe to you in the middle of camp. It’ll be sneaky and preferably look like an accident.”

  “Great. What’s slavery without a heaped helping of paranoia to keep it interesting?”

  “That’s the spirit!”

  CHAPTER 9

  Garran chewed mint leaves and rubbed lavender blossoms
under his armpits. Weeks had passed without major incident, so he was letting his guard down just a bit. Other than some stare downs and an occasional, uncomfortable sandwiching in the chow line, Clyve and Dominic had not made any aggressive moves toward him. Perhaps they had decided that getting their petty revenge was not worth the risk of incurring Cyril’s discipline. Besides, it was date night, and not hell or high water would keep him from Rose.

  “Sneaking out again, eh?” Colin asked.

  “You betcha.”

  “You know, if you get caught messing with any of the camp women, you’re in a lot of trouble.”

  “I know.” Garran traced his body with the backs of his hands. “But I can’t deny her all this. It would be cruel.”

  Colin rolled his eyes. “Oh, please.”

  “Beg all you want, you blew your chance.”

  Colin pursed his lips and shook his head. Garran tossed on a clean shirt, grabbed a small parcel wrapped in linen from his footlocker, and headed toward the outer fringes of the camp. Instead of going into one of the latrines constructed near the woodline, he looked around to make sure no one was watching, slipped between two of the small structures, and darted down a narrow path cut through the wild rhododendrons and sage.

  Rose stood in a clearing a short way off the trail and smiled when Garran approached. She looked around nervously like a girl afraid her father was going to burst from the bushes at any moment, a feeling Garran understood all too well.

  “Hi, I brought you something,” Garran said.

  Rose took the cloth-bound parcel, untied the corners, and smiled at the batch of wild blueberries, strawberries, and raspberries. “Thank you, they’re lovely.”

  Garran saw her smile falter for a brief instant before returning. “What’s the matter, don’t you like them?”

  “Of course I do, It’s just…nothing, I’m being stupid.”

  She plucked up one of the berries and made to pop it into her mouth, but Garran gently grabbed her wrist. “Something is wrong. You can tell me.”

  Rose dropped the berry back into the bunch and sat down. “I just…oh, there’s no way to say this without sounding awful!”