The Miscreant

by Brock Deskins

  Garran sat down beside her and held her close. “You can tell me anything.”

  “It’s why I’m here.”

  “What about it? I don’t care what you did.”

  “You would if you knew.”

  “No I wouldn’t. Tell me.”

  A tear ran down Rose’s cheek. “I was poor and alone. I was working at a tavern, but they were going to start putting out some of the women working there to save money. I was the newest and the first one dismissed. I had nowhere to go, so I put on my best dress to find a man who would take care of me. I met an aide to one of the government ministers, and I was determined to do whatever it took to get him to love me, but when we went to his home, he attacked me. He didn’t care for me at all. I was just a plaything for him to enjoy for the night. When I tried to get away, he started hurting me and hitting me, so I struck him with a small bronze statue. I kept hitting him until he let me go. When I crawled out from under him, he wasn’t moving. I was arrested and accused of murder. No one believed me that it was self-defense. I thought I was going to hang, so I agreed to work in the camps.”

  Garran wiped the tear from her face and held her tighter. “I believe you. He got what he deserved. Why did you think that would upset me?”

  “It’s not just that. Some of the girls say the men sometimes find gold when they bust up the rocks or pan it out of the creeks. Garran, I don’t have anything, and I’m terrified to go back to what got me here in the first place. I was wondering…if maybe you could help me, if you found some gold like the others you could share just a little with me. Even if I could get away from the camp, I wouldn’t know how to find it on my own. I’m so helpless and worthless.”

  Garran cradled her face in his hands. “You are not worthless. Of course I’ll help you. I don’t know if I’ll find much or anything, but I’ll try.”

  “Thank you. I’m so humiliated having to tell you all this.”

  “Trust me; I’m no stranger to social disasters.” Garran made a show of patting at his pockets. “In fact, I wrote up a little consent contract I wanted you to sign…”

  Rose giggled, pushed him onto his back, and dropped onto his chest. “You’re teasing me!” she said before pressing her lips against his.

  ***

  Clyve watched the young couple through the bushes from just a few yards away. It was all he could do to restrain his chuckling and not reveal his presence. The boy was a fool and was thinking with his prick. He had all he needed to formulate a plan, but he kept watching as things heated up and became interesting.

  ***

  Colin looked up from the limb he was hacking at with his axe. “So how’d your date with Rose go last night?”

  Garran dropped his reaping blade, grabbed Colin in a headlock, and shoved his hands down his pants before sticking his fingers under his friend’s nose. “You tell me.”

  “You’re such an ass!” Colin shouted as he struggled to break free of Garran’s grip.

  “Come on, I’m just trying to share the love.”

  “I can’t smell the love over your unwashed balls!”

  Trent and Frank laughed uproariously, but they fell silent when a group of men approached. Sensing the intrusion, Garran released his hold, and Colin shoved him away. Cyril, Evert, Trent, Clyve, Dominic, and two soldiers approached looking as dark and foreboding as an impending storm.

  “We were just horsing around,” Colin said.

  Cyril locked eyes with Garran and replied, “Despite the fact you should be working, that’s not what this is about. It seems Mr. Blagun is missing some property and thinks you may have had a hand in its disappearance.”

  “If I was going to go anywhere near Clyve it would be to drop off a bar of soap.”

  Colin snorted. “Like you own any soap.”

  “I have soap…I’m just saving it.”

  “For what, your funeral?”

  “You two monkeys shut up,” Cyril snapped.

  Colin looked at Garran. “What’s a monkey?”

  “It’s an animal that looks vaguely like a man. I heard the zoo in Leva has some.”

  “What do they look like?”

  Garran looked pointedly at Dominic, traveling his eyes from toe to head. “They’re about six-two, hairy, with a sloping brow, a slack-jawed, moronic expression, and they like to throw their shit when they aren’t eating it. That’s why they have ungodly bad breath.”

  “They sound disgusting.”

  “Oh, they are, but I’ve heard some of them are clever enough to be trained to perform tricks like balancing on a ball or chopping down trees.”

  Dominic took a threatening step forward. “Smart-assed little prick!”

  Cyril stepped between the two men. “This is very serious, Mr. Holt. Both Mr. Blagun and Mr. Mercier claim they saw you skulking about in their area a few hours after dinner chow.”

  “That’s right, I saw you by our tent last night,” Dominic said. “I didn’t think much of it until Clyve found his gold missing this morning.”

  “Why would I take your gold, Clyve? What am I going to spend it on out here in the middle of nowhere?”

  “Maybe you thought to give it to one of the whores, like that young, pretty one on the serving line.”

  “Were you out of your tent last night?” Cyril asked.

  Garran glared at Clyve, willing the man’s head to explode. He obviously saw him with Rose and possibly overheard their discussion.

  “Of course not. With the exception of a couple trips to the toilets, I was in my tent all night.” Garran leaned toward Cyril, placed his hand next to his mouth, and loudly whispered, “I think I got a bad piece of meat last night.”

  Colin wiped his nose with his sleeve. “I can vouch for that. It’s definitely rancid.”

  “Was Mr. Holt in his bunk last night?”

  “Yes, he was,” Colin confirmed.

  Cyril looked to Frank and Trent. “What about you two, you see him leave the tent last night except to use the latrine?”

  “I don’t pay attention to others’ toilet habits,” Frank said.

  Trent merely shrugged.

  “Have you checked my bunk?” Garran asked.

  “Not yet, but that’s where we’re all headed now. I like to have the accused and the accuser present during a search.”

  “Well, let’s go resolve this thing.”

  Clyve smiled at Garran. “Yes, let’s do that.”

  Garran felt very uneasy with Clyve’s confidence in his guilt. It was an easy frame-up job to pull off, one that would see Garran severely punished with little to no way of clearing his name. Even if seeing Rose was not against the rules, it was a poor alibi considering what they discussed. Clyve obviously overheard them talking about gold and came up with this little scheme. Garran had to admit, it was clever and almost certain to succeed.

  The tent was empty except for the accused, accusers, and their escorts. They stopped at Garran’s bunk located about a third of the way down the length of the tent.

  “Open your footlocker and step away,” Cyril commanded.

  Like everyone’s trunk, a leather cord with a specific series of knots secured the lid closed. Locks were expensive, and the knotted cord slowed down would-be thieves enough to risk someone seeing them. Garran had a piece of string attached to the inside of the lid that would snap if anyone opened it, but it was intact. He slipped the loop at the end of the string off the small nail and opened the box.

  Cyril rummaged through the contents with everyone watching his every move. Satisfied, the commander placed everything back the way he found it and closed the lid.

  “Check his bed!” Clyve insisted.

  Cyril looked at Garran and nodded to his bunk. Garran sighed, grabbed his blanket near the center, and whipped it off the bunk. Cyril picked up his pillow and smashed it with his hands to feel for any objects hidden inside then flipped up the thin mattress to reveal the tautly stretched canvas beneath.

  “Shake out the blanket,” Cyril instru
cted.

  With a roll of his eyes, Garran held the wool blanket over his head while pinching the corners, shook it, and turned it around for everyone to see.

  “Goddam it, I know he’s got it!”

  “How do you know for sure unless you put it there?” Garran asked.

  “I…”

  “Mr. Blagun, I think perhaps you jumped to conclusions and are mistaken about Mr. Holt’s involvement.”

  “No, goddam it, I know he took it!”

  “Maybe Dominic took it,” Garran said. “After all, he’s the only other one who claims he saw me.”

  “That is certainly a possibility,” Cyril agreed.

  Dominic snapped, “I didn’t take nothing!”

  “I know he didn’t take it,” Clyve supported.

  “I think Clyve’s insistence hints at something more nefarious than a mere mistake,” Garran said.

  “Are you saying there is some sort of conspiracy?” Cyril asked.

  “It is not beyond reason. I have had issues with both Dominic and Clyve. Maybe they contrived to set me up?”

  “That’s a load of crap!” Dominic shouted.

  Garran shrugged. “There’s one way to find out.”

  Dominic and Clyve exchanged nervous glances as they made their way to the red camp. Something had obviously gone wrong with their plan, but neither of them could say exactly what. Not only would Clyve possibly lose his gold, it would mean severe punishment if Cyril decided they did indeed consort to falsely accuse Garran of theft.

  Dominic went through the same routine as Garran had just a few minutes ago with the same results. The big man breathed a sigh of relief when they did not find the gold there either. He did not know what had gone wrong, but it was not looking like total implosion.

  “You see, I didn’t take it.”

  “That only means he isn’t a thief,” Garran said. “If we find the gold still in Clyve’s possession, we know they both worked together to falsely accuse me since both insisted they saw me.”

  “Mr. Blagun, please take us to your bunk,” Cyril ordered.

  “Fine, but I didn’t steal my own damn gold!”

  Clyve’s bunk was near the middle of the tent a few paces beyond the iron stove set in the center. As they neared the middle of the tent, Garran edged closer to Dominic and guided him toward the stove. Predictably, Dominic forcefully shoved Garran away with a muttered curse. Garran made a scene of stumbling and falling to his knees at the edge of Clyve’s bunk.

  “Step away, Mr. Holt,” Cyril ordered.

  Garran stood with his arms up and his fingers splayed and backed away. Cyril went through the footlocker first and found nothing except Clyve’s spare clothes and a few personal effects. Clyve pulled the blanket off just as Garran had done and shook it out, but when Cyril lifted the sleeping pad, there sat a small pouch with Clyve’s initials burned into the leather. Clyve stood unblinking at the small bag, his mouth agape as if he was staring at a tiny fairy about to grant him wishes.

  Cyril snapped him out of his stupor. “Is that your missing property, Mr. Blagun?”

  Clyve’s mouth silently worked up and down a few times before he could force the words out. “I…I must have hidden it there and forgot.” He picked up the pouch and peered inside. “Half of it’s gone! He took half and put it back to make me look like a fool!”

  “I don’t think so, Clyve,” Garran said. “You and Dominic both swore that you saw me come out of your tent, insistent that I had stolen it. That level of certainty is only established if the accuser knows without a doubt what happened. You knew what happened because you and Dominic are the ones who did it. The only problem is that you were too stupid or greedy to risk losing all of your gold by actually planting it on me and thought the accusation would be enough to convict me as long as no one ever found it. After all, who would steal their own gold?”

  “He’s twisting it all around!” Clyve complained. “If I never lost it, where’s the rest of it!”

  “Obviously, you paid Dominic to corroborate your accusation. The only thing twisted is your petty, failed attempt at revenge.”

  Cyril turned to the soldiers. “Take them to the lockup. I’ll need to ask some questions before I pass judgment.”

  Dominic and Clyve complained loudly as the soldiers led them away. Garran stood looking pleased while Cyril looked as if someone had just killed his dog.

  “After I retired, I bought a big piece of property a few miles outside of Merrow. It was quiet, the soil was rich, and I had my own pond and creek where I could sit and fish all day long. It cost me almost every dinarin I owned, but I still considered it a steal. I bought the property in the summer during one of the longer dry spells the area had seen in a generation. When the rains came early that fall, it and every inch of land for miles around turned into a swamp that was uninhabitable to anything but bullfrogs and mosquitoes. I’m starting to feel as though I didn’t get half as screwed on that deal as the one I made buying your services from your mother.”

  ***

  Sometimes Commander Godfrey held trials and sometimes he did not. It all depended upon the crime and the evidence at hand. This was a time where he had enough evidence to forgo a public spectacle and make a judgment. Exactly when that judgment came depended on what kind of answers he got. While Cyril was out asking his questions, Garran sneaked out to meet Rose once again after they completed the evening meal cleanup.

  “I heard what happened today,” Rose said. “It all sounds so frighteningly dramatic.”

  “It was, but it was also profitable.” Garran pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, untied the corners, and displayed a small heap of gold nuggets and flakes.

  “Where did you get this? I heard that those two men tried to frame you.”

  “They did try to frame me by planting Clyve’s gold in my cot.”

  “But the commander found it in Clyve’s bunk, didn’t he?”

  Garran allowed himself a self-satisfied smile. “It was one of my better performances. I knew Clyve and Dominic were trying to set me up. When we didn’t find the gold in my footlocker, I suspected they put it in my bunk. I noticed a small lump under the middle of my blanket, so when I picked it up, I grabbed the pouch hidden beneath and palmed it. As we walked toward Clyve’s camp, I dumped half the pouch’s contents in my pocket. At first, I was going to slip it into Dominic’s bunk, but then I thought of a way to get them both. When I tricked Dominic into shoving me, I fell against Clyve’s cot and slipped the pouch of gold under his mattress. And now it’s yours.”

  Rose’s hand flew to her mouth to cover her gaping astonishment. She then took the parcel of gold from Garran’s hand and held it beneath her chin, her eyes wide and shining.

  “I can’t believe you did all that for me. No one has ever done anything for me like this.”

  “Well, I love you, Rose, and when we get out of here, I’ll take you away and we’ll live in the city. You will never have to worry about people mistreating you, and you won’t have to worry about your future anymore. I am your future, and I won’t let anything bad happen to you again.”

  “Oh, Garran,” Rose gushed and threw herself into his arms.

  ***

  “Holt, the commander wants a word with you.”

  Garran lifted his head from his pillow made from a flour sack stuffed with young pine needles and saw a soldier’s head poking through the tent’s entryway. It had been two days since Clyve and Dominic’s failed conspiracy, and he assumed Cyril had completed his investigation.

  He slipped on his boots and followed the soldier through the camp. Cyril’s tent was the same one he had used during their trip here, but now it was attached to a larger tent Garran assumed was for meetings with his soldiers and team leaders. The soldier pointed toward the vestibule at the back. Garran passed through and stepped into Cyril’s tent to find the commander sipping a cup of port.

  “Take a seat.” Cyril stared at Garran for a full minute before continuing. “I have a problem, Mr
. Holt.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I think I spotted some rapture root out near my work site. I can bring you some if you like.”

  “It’s not that kind of problem.”

  “Oh, good. Given the amount of attention you’ve shown me, it would have made me a bit uncomfortable. Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but I’ve found another outlet for such things.”

  “You’re a clever young man, Mr. Holt. That cleverness is likely to see you hung one day.”

  “A fellow can surely hope.”

  “I mean hanged.”

  “Damn, that’s not nearly as good. Well, we’ve established what my problem is, so what is yours?”

  Cyril took another drink and tapped his finger against the rim of his cup while he chose his words. “As commander of this operation, my intent is to run an orderly and efficient camp. I think the best way to accomplish this is by enforcing the rules fairly, equally, but also wisely.”

  “I think you’re doing a bang-up job, Commander.”

  “Truly, your validation should be sufficient, but I suppose I'm a selfish man and require a bit more. In order to prevent any assumptions of showing favoritism, I must act in accordance with the evidence at hand regardless of my feelings or intuition. For example, my intuition tells me that Mr. Blagun and Mr. Mercier did indeed set out to implicate you in a crime you did not commit, but neither man would be stupid enough to maintain possession of the property in question. I have no choice but to punish them in accordance with the preponderance of the evidence just as I would have punished you had I found Mr. Blagun’s property in your possession, despite what my instinct might tell me as to your guilt.”

  Garran nodded. “It sounds like a fair policy to me.”

  “I like to think so, but fairness does not always yield the best results. It’s obvious you have garnered both men’s enmity, though for the life of me I can’t imagine how you earned it.”

  “It’s a mystery,” Garran agreed, pretending to miss Cyril’s obvious sarcasm.

  “They certainly deserve their punishment for committing a serious crime, but I must concern myself with the long-term order and discipline of the camp as well as your continued well-being. If I simply punish them as the evidence and our rules dictate, I fear I will play a part in the continued cycle of tit for tat until one party crosses the line and kills the other.”