Jimmy visibly deflated, perhaps finally seeing the foolishness of his actions. He sulked over to his part of the cage and didn't say another word, not of thanks or apology.
Jakob looked at The Hermit then. 'Are you okay? There were a lot of fists flying about there.'
The Hermit nodded.
'Still on that idiot's side?'
The Hermit nodded, Jakob nodded back at him in acknowledgement and sat next to a sullen and chastened Jimmy.
He stared at the other side of the cage to where their fellow captives were cautiously venturing forward again, they had a lot more space now. The bodies wouldn't be a problem, the other slaves were already eyeing their former comrades hungrily.
With a call from the guard and crack of whips, the cage continued to rumble on toward the desert.
73
Gadtor
They were lead from a chamber by a group of guards who mercilessly prodded them forward as they attempted to grow accustomed to moving with a manacle fastening their legs together.
Gadtor was reminded briefly of a two legged race, after much cursing from both of them and a number of threats from the guards they had developed a begrudging rhythm to their movements.
This was no simple tying of the legs, the manacle in question was more like a block of ore that seemed to have no discernible fastenings. It was exhausting to lift even when they had developed a scant teamwork and raised it in unison.
He was weary to the bone when they had finally made their way down to the massive caravan that other volunteers for the war were being herded into. He refused to let it show, given that Thom's sweat-streaked face seemed the only indication that the man had exerted any energy in lifting the block.
The caravan was a rickety structure that had seen much repair recently, apparently it had only just made it to Urial in one piece. Gadtor didn't fancy being inside it if it broke down in the middle of the desert but then he didn't have the luxury of choice.
Confident that they weren't going to escape, their escort departed from whence they came. Seeing only one way forward, Gadtor and Thom hobbled up to join the rest of the line and were promptly stopped by another series of guards.
'Papers please,' the first guard said, an unfriendly smile touching his lips, they had watched the approach with a mild amusement they seemed ready to milk to its full.
'What do you mean, papers?' Thom asked, not disguising the instant dislike from his tone.
The guard eyed his associate. 'You hear that Bezai? No papers.'
Bezai shook his head sadly. 'That's a fair block you've got on your legs there gents, what did you do to pick that up?'
Gadtor could feel the rage emanating from Thom, he wasn't overly pleased with the treatment himself but he hadn't expected any better either.
'Are you going to let us pass through or not?'
Bezai feigned a deep contemplation, the other guard chuckled at this but clearly had nothing else to add. 'Let me see now... No papers, a bad fucking attitude for a prisoner and the stones to make demands? I say we cut you down where we stand.'
Thom's arms flew up faster than Gadtor could muster any reaction to, he stumbled as Thom tried to lift the block unaided, sending them both onto the floor, much to the guard's amusement.
'Fortunately for you two jokers I've got strict orders from up high to let you make the journey from here to Sah'kel.'
They picked themselves up with some effort and little dignity, apparently they were going to be let through after all.
'If it's all the same to you Bezai I'm quite happy to remain in the city.'
The guard shook his head at Gadtor's words. 'It's nice that you have a sense of humour about these things but it'd be my head on a stick if I bucked the chain of command. Have fun with your ill-tempered friend.'
Gadtor nodded in resignation and with a look at Thom they prepared to set off toward the ramp leading up into the caravan.
The other guard stuck an arm out. 'That's nice that you think you know where you're going and all but we've also got very specific orders that we have to carry out, gents.'
Gadtor didn't like where this was going.
Bezai pointed at a small box attached to the side of the caravan. 'We were told that for crimes most heinous that you were to get the box for your journey.' He eyed the manacle again. 'I guess you really pissed off the wrong people. Can't promise to keep an eye on you in the heat, we've got a lot of folk to look after here, if you're still alive when we get there you'll have your rations to fall back on.'
Thom had fallen oddly silent, had he accepted the punishment or was he deep in thought?
'Lead the way then sir.' Gadtor replied, keeping a modicum of diplomacy to the proceedings.
They made their way up to the caravan and it seemed to grow in size with every step. Gadtor absent-mindedly wondered just how many people were being sent off to the front line in these things and what it had taken to have them volunteer. He had never paid the conflict in Sah'kel much heed given that he had his own war to fight, it looked like he was about to experience war on a much grander scale.
The box had clearly been built as a punishment device to house a single person, one of the guards wandered over to it and unfastened a large chain, the lid fell down on rusted hinges and formed a ramp to their place of captivity.
Small holes in the surface of the wood provided enough air to breathe, there was a bucket in the corner but precious little else. Gadtor hoped that Thom was a greater conversationalist than he had given him credit for, it was going to be a very long journey in such cramped conditions.
The thought of escape had crossed his mind briefly, he dismissed it just as quickly. As capable as he found Thom he knew that unarmed, outnumbered and hobbled with their block of a manacle they were as good as dead should they attempt it.
They made their way up the creaky makeshift ramp and ducked down under the roof of their new home. He spotted Bezai waving at them cheerily as the door was slammed shut. A rustling a chains in the darkness and then silence. They were trapped.
Small strands of light from the air holes offered minimal vision but Gadtor chose to close his eyes and awkwardly attempt to find a position of comfort. The effort was entirely futile. If Thom thought anything of their current predicament he refused to share it.
The grinding sound of wheels turning signalled the inevitable, they were off to the front line.
74
Ella
The whiteness veiling her eyes cleared, the orderly line of trees and well-maintained path suggested that she was on the road leading from Escana.
'I am aware of the unconvincing nature of providing you with an illusion after your dismissal of illusions as means to convince you. I openly admit that this is brought about by the contents of my own mind and none of it is reality. Our bodies remain frozen in position where they have always been, our minds are one on the outskirts of Escana.'
She watched as a vision of El-Vador waylaid bandits, which in turn transformed into one of Jimmy, Jakob and herself venturing across that same path.
She witnessed the mercy he provided the sole bandit that survived and how he dealt with the guards that chose to abuse the man's freedom. Then she saw them walking across the same path completely oblivious to the events that had occurred.
Then she saw the Warden attempting to cross the bridge and the resulting conflict. There were any number of men willing to avenge the death of Solomon, was he aware that Jakob was the perpetrator of the crime?
'Good, you're growing accustomed to the visions quicker than I expected you to. Now try and cope with the following.'
The visions continued to swirl around her but their pace increased by a great magnitude, this time they cast her back into a small village as El-Vador laid about him with a sword, slaying grotesque creatures to the left and right as they attempted to ravage a terrified and powerless populace.
She saw him weeping openly atop a mountain clutching eight bronze statues and talking to a ghostl
y figure.
This vision in particular vanished even swifter, replaced by a dark dungeon in which El-Vador offered mercy to someone straining to claw his eyes out. She stared at the figure unblinkingly, taking in the life-like detail of the shredded gossamer wings as it dispelled the whimsy surrounding the name 'pixie'.
Giant pillars streaked upward into the darkness as a vast creature with wings hurled fire at the dancing feet of a severely wounded El-Vador.
They soared in free-fall down a white tower leading into a city below, a small mote in their vision brought forth another figure flying upward to greet steel upon steel.
A grotesque monster hacked at the woods beneath it, she watched El-Vador climb up its leg and bury his sword under its knee.
A burly man with strange green skin hacked mercilessly at him with an axe on a desert plain, thousands of miles from civilisation.
Finally they were sent to a small room together, watching El-Vador pouring over rolls of velum and scratching endlessly at them with a quill in frustration.
'It took a very long time to dredge every memory into ink and onto the page,' he said matter-of-factly. 'It needed to be said, lest I finally pass from this world and my collective knowledge die with me.'
The vision faded away into whiteness and the marble tiles of their room swam into view once more. Ella had many questions, this man if you could call him that had literally walked out of the pages of her favourite book.
'Do you see yourself as a hero?'
'No. I simply tried to do the best that I could with the choices given to me. The best for everyone concerned. To call me a hero for doing so would make people that do the same in their own lives heroes. The only thing that separates me from them is the magnitude of the choices I was forced to make.'
'The pixie in the dungeon was the same as the one from the book, wasn't she?'
He was very silent then, she hadn't felt particularly threatened by his presence before but there was a looming menace in his silence that suggested that she ask something else.
'I'm so very tired,' he said, cutting her off. 'You don't know what it's like, you can't know what it's like. To live in such forsaken times with the entirety of the world demanding you choose and withstand the burden of those choices for all eternity. It doesn't get any easier with time for someone sympathetic and no amount of pain and suffering can harden my heart against the significance when it is brought about by my own hand.'
Everything she had been shown was far more detailed than she had ever imagined upon reading it. Every event had a complexity and nuance about it that told her he had experienced it all. Or was this some further effort of his to trick her?
'Why are you telling me all this?' She asked.
He looked up at her, his face no longer hidden by fine strands of hair. 'So that you may understand me.'
She shook her head. 'Why me? Why not someone else?'
He pressed his head up against hers and started to shake, no visions were forthcoming though.
'You are the last latent power I have seen. There are no others left in the lands beyond Levanin and none with your naivety within these walls.'
'What is a latent power?'
El-Vador lay back and let out a deep breath. 'A latent power is someone whose mind is adeptly suited to dealing with the energies that elude the common man. A handful of these individuals are born each year with varying degrees of aptitude. It is a family trait and those known to produce such seed were relocated and kept within the walls of Levanin.'
Ella didn't like the idea of being kept anywhere. 'Why were they forced to stay in the city?'
'The damage an adept power can cause outside of a controlled environment almost always leads to a loss of life. It will either manifest in house fires or being hit by lightning or perhaps a malady. An adept can yield the power but has no control over the execution. Often they will die in the attempt of taking another life. It is safer for all concerned to keep them here.'
It was then that Ella noticed the platter. A thin layer of mould had grown over the fruit. How long had these illusions taken? She felt very sleepy.
'Rest,' El-Vador said, sensing it.
She did.
75
Jakob
It was starting to get a lot hotter, the once lush greenery they had rolled past in their captivity began to take on a much less desirable aspect. Looking out on the now-desolate landscape Jakob realised that he no longer yearned for escape if that was what he had to flee into.
The cage ground to a halt, sending up odd plumes of dust trailing off in its wake, the prisoners stared out of the bars to see why they had been halted this time.
It had taken weeks in captivity to venture this far, throughout all this The Hermit had not shown the slightest interest in communicating with either Jakob or Jimmy.
While before Jimmy was an insufferable windbag, now his demeanour seemed to reflect The Hermit's. He responded briefly when Jakob offered conversation and made no effort to speak to him. It was almost as if the part of him that kept him so exasperatingly merry had fractured in the past events. The combination of the botched rebellion and the long cage journey had sapped him of all joviality. Perhaps it had dawned on him just how perilous their situation had become.
One of the Urtaka ducked its heads briefly to search for something to graze upon in the lull and a collective gasp came from the prisoners at the front of the cage.
Jakob had spotted it too. A large stone monument directly in front of them in the shape of an arch. It wasn't the odd construction that caught the eye the most, but rather the hypnotic yet translucent glow that seemed to warp the depth of field beyond it.
The Urtaka seemed entirely unperturbed by the appearance of it, perhaps this was a commonplace landmark in their various journeys throughout the land. The same could not be said for the prisoners, who in spite of their malnourished state were working themselves up at the sight of the unknown.
There was a tightening sensation in his chest then, judging by the reactions of those around him he wasn't alone in feeling it.
He continued to look around him, The Hermit seemed unchanged by this development, Jimmy seemingly hadn't cared about anything for days.
The familiar grind signalled the inevitable forward motion, his chest felt further constricted and the edges of his sight started to blur. There was nothing he could do, he was trapped here. Fighting the urge to panic he settled himself down upon the cage floor once again and shut his eyes, hoping irrationally that the sensation would lessen.
The pressure seemed to move from his chest to the lids of his eyes, they felt like a pair of invisible thumbs were digging into them.
He found himself searching for air in a series of short breaths, the pressure continued to mount, spreading out through every portion of his body. At least if he were to die now he'd be free of this accursed cage.
Then where? The thought hit him, he wasn't afraid to die. Certainly, he was afraid of the potential pain involved in getting there but the prospect of leaving this land into an unknown future didn't cause him any concern. Why was he so sure that nothing terrible would happen?
He fell into darkness, where previously the light from the cage had flickered upon the lids of his eyes there now was nothing. Nothing but the sound of his shallow breathing.
A wave of heat hit him then and a blazing brightness coloured the insides of his eyes, he opened them and was blinded by the sudden light.
The dark outline of the cage was the first thing he noticed, the bars solidified in his wavering view. Then he heard the sounds of several men groggily rising to their feet and staring in disbelief out of the cage.
They were surrounded by dunes, stretching out further than his recovering sight could discern. He blinked several times and the wavering in the distance didn't go away, he felt a throb in his head upon realising that it was the sheer heat causing it.
A guard groggily banged on the side of the cage, apparently they were worse for wear from th
e experience too.
'We'll be rationing your meals from here on in until we get to Greyhawk. We're in the desert now, so if we've any runts left that aren't being protected by the cloaked one then you might want to think about ending them. Runts aside we want the rest of you surviving this journey so if you kill someone we're going to be coming in and sticking him in the salt barrels. Anyone who has a problem with that can join him in the barrels. Understood?'
He rattled the wall of the cage with his spear and there were some grumbles of understanding, most of the men were too disorientated to do anything else.
He heard a faint voice nearby, harsh from disuse. 'Jakob, where are we?'
He scanned the horizon and took a deep breath of dry air from his freed lungs.
'I have no idea.'
76
Hern
There were long stretches of silence now, for all their efforts at frugality the supply of food simply wasn't enough to keep them both alive. Hern was beginning to wonder when Re'tak would start eyeing him for sustenance.
He dismissed it as a terrible thought, a spirit of kinship had grown between the two of them in the dark hours they shared together. They may not converse much due to the strain it put on both their minds but there was a sense of mutual solidarity each time they did. No, Re'tak seemed an honourable beast, he would not devour Hern if it was only going to draw out the agony as he starved to death.
The familiar sound of the lock clicking signalled the opening of the inaccessible hatch high above them. Hern had lost concept of time in this dark place and knew it may be the hunger deluding him, this didn't change that the intervals between their feeding seemed longer than before. Did they not realise just how much a lizard this size could eat? Were they afraid of feeding it too much for fear of it somehow sprouting wings and mounting an escape?
Blinded more by the light now than the darkness, Hern couldn't make out a thing. What was taking them so long to hurl the food down and close the hatch?
Escana Page 33