Escana

by J. R. Karlsson

  In spite of the shade of the huge canyon walls the air was still dry and close, the extended effort of dragging their way there made Gadtor feel as if he was suffocating. It had been Thom they had really wanted, he was a mere grunt, an extra body to be discarded. Should these claims of rank ring true, he wondered how they'd deal with his position as the extraneous soldier attached.

  The mat outside spoke of pointless formality, they rubbed the soles of their feet on it as best they could, though they seemed to have more sand as they tramped in than prior to the effort.

  'Well fuck me sideways!' Thom exclaimed upon entry. 'It's the mighty General Garth come to rule over us!'

  The huge man cracked a wide grin under his bushy beard, apparently the General of the army was acquainted with Thom.

  'Do you really have to start up that old tune again Thom? I thought you swore I'd never have to hear that again?'

  The guards around him visibly relaxed at this show of camaraderie, though Gadtor couldn't help but wonder how this altered the command structure.

  'I'm still bitter at you taking charge last time! I clearly outrank you, yet here you are once again with your maps and your tacticians plotting to get me a nasty fucking sunburn!'

  The General had moved as if to embrace the man, but had stopped short upon finally laying eyes on their imprisonment.

  'What's this? Some kind of manacle? I warned you not to go charging off but it looks like you've picked up more trouble on the way. Who's this?'

  Thom's smile lessened, Gadtor couldn't blame him as for once he knew exactly what the man was thinking about as he replied. 'I ran into our old friend from the bridge, he had this put on me and shipped off to Sah'kel for displeasing Justice Kelgrimm. This man is Gadtor, he was helping with the investigation.'

  The method of introduction surprised Gadtor, he was expecting something more cutting and derogatory but it never came. General Garth had now turned his full attention upon him.

  'Do you hold a rank, Gadtor?'

  He shook his head. 'I'm not a military man sir, prior to encountering your friend from the bridge I was a freedom fighter on the streets of Urial.'

  Garth's expression darkened at mention of that, Gadtor wasn't expecting his cause to be looked on with anything but contempt by a military man.

  He had thought it was all for nothing, that the very foundation of what he believed had been invalidated by Falarus's betrayal. He had been wrong and found that those same principles he held before were still true in his mind. Not that it mattered where a man came from or what he believed in Sah'kel. So long as he could wield a weapon and attack when ordered.

  'So what say we try and get this manacle off you then, General?'

  Thom was still smiling. 'I'd say that's an excellent idea, General.'

  Gadtor felt even less certain about his future, as soon as they got rid of the shackles that bound them he would be surplus to requirements and sent back to the front line. Gadtor didn't want to think about what they might do if they couldn't separate them from the block.

  The boy spoke then, and to Gadtor's surprise nobody moved to silence him. 'General Garth sir, if you don't mind me asking. If General Thom outranks you, does that mean he has to take charge of the army?'

  Garth smiled. 'It's an old joke, Inglewood. Thom's rank was an honorary one bestowed upon him for his valour. My rank was earned through experience. He technically outranks me but in terms of military experience he's somewhat... lacking.'

  Thom glared at him, it was good humoured though. Gadtor was amazed at how seeing this second General had changed Thom completely, he knew better than to try and join in the repartee.

  There was a strange sound then, like a thunderclap overhead but without the clouds. Gadtor found himself pitching forward onto the tent floor, what was going on?

  He managed to turn his head around and everyone was crowding around them, Thom lay flat on the floor, then he started to scream.

  The closeness in the air seemed to increase, that may have been brought about by his discomfort at hearing the man's suffering. He knew that kind of anguish first-hand and had heard it from others many times in his life.

  He could vaguely hear Garth shouting at Thom, trying to bodily lift him and then demanding that Gadtor get to his feet. He sluggishly obeyed with the aid of two soldiers beside him, Thom continued to scream.

  Nothing had happened, there had been no attack or any other reason Gadtor could think of that would cause Thom to fall victim in such a way. Was it some internal malady that plagued him unseen and unknown?

  The screams started to subside, dying down to a whisper of exhaled breath as the man finally lost his voice, there was a strange look of primal terror in his eyes. Like he had been spooked by something beyond their comprehension.

  Garth ordered that a space be cleared and two beds brought, Thom's hand frantically shot up and beckoned him come closer.

  Garth placed his ear to the man's mouth, Gadtor caught the words he was whispering that he didn't want the men to hear.

  'He is coming, we must flee.'

  102

  Jimmy

  There were no tears left to cry. For all their short-comings the members of C-Company had checked his injuries and declared that nothing had been broken. Jimmy had explained his fate to them, that this was the last night in their company before reporting to Dyson to become his personal assistant. The reaction he got from the others suggested that it was most likely a death sentence.

  'You'll constantly be monitored in what you say and what you do, the efficiency of how you go about each task and the deference you show him in adhering to his principles. A single error is punishable by death, we've seen it happen before.' Those were the words that brought the most general consensus, they were also the ones that Jimmy feared to hear the most.

  None of this made any sense to him, if his father had forced Dyson into taking him as his new assistant for his own safety the job couldn't possibly be dangerous, let alone life-threatening. Perhaps Dyson would find other more subtle ways to punish him.

  He found he had little left to say to the men of C-Company when he was finally ordered to leave, there were few well-wishers and he didn't know the names of most of them. Greyhawk wasn't a place for making friends as you never knew who you'd be fighting next. Jimmy felt oddly thankful that Dyson hadn't shown the inclination to throw him into the arena.

  The guard known as Jadil took him to his new quarters, a small room just a corridor down from Dyson's office. It was nice to be able to have a room by himself, even if it did look like a converted storage space. At least now he wouldn't have to put up with the loud breathing and fevered dreams of the wounded and aged.

  The summons came shortly after, the brief distance between his room and the office didn't seem so appealing, he was standing in Dyson's office within a moment's notice.

  'So you're Harold Gooseman's son then.'

  It wasn't a question, Jimmy stayed silent.

  'You've left me with quite the dilemma now and I dare not cross your father.' Jimmy waited for an explanation as to why but none was forthcoming. 'Tell me boy, do you like being fucked in the ass?'

  He blinked, it was definitely a question and he had no choice but to answer anything that was asked of him. 'I don't no sir, I've never been fucked in the ass.'

  Dyson sighed. 'That's what every man in this fort will be thinking after they discover I've taken a young boy as my assistant. Do you think I'm pleased by that development, young boy?'

  He shook his head vigorously. 'No sir!'

  From the look on Dyson's face, his previous question hadn't been rhetorical and Jimmy's answer didn't appease him. 'Have you a problem with men fucking each other in the ass?'

  Jimmy found himself trapped, his mouth spoke for him before his panicked brain responded. 'No sir!'

  Dyson smiled. 'Good, because in a fort filled exclusively with men you'd soon discover that having a problem with those proclivities isn't looked kindly upon.'


  He rose from his seat, striding out from behind the desk and right up into Jimmy's space. 'Would you like me to fuck you in the ass, boy?'

  He didn't know how to respond, if he rejected these advances he knew he would be punished severely. Something strange rose up in him then, it was as if he had felt enough of fear and cowardice in this singular moment and was tired of running from death. Ever since Thom had thrown his sword at him he had been running, he was sick of it.

  'No sir,' he gritted his teeth. 'I would not like you to fuck me in the ass.'

  Dyson smiled again, an unnerving expression on such a dangerous man. 'Spirited, I like that. I had you pegged as a spineless worm!' He pushed his nose up right against Jimmy's. 'What makes you think you have a choice?'

  He felt like it was someone else talking as he locked his eyes with the man and uttered his response. 'You can fuck my corpse if you want but that's all you'll get because I'd sooner die than submit to a man like you.'

  He laughed at that and took a step back. 'Good, but don't push your luck.' He drew a thin blade from his hip and pressed it to Jimmy's jugular. 'I take what I want, you're just lucky I don't want you.'

  Sheathing his blade, he walked back over to the desk and seated himself as if nothing had happened. 'They say enough time in Greyhawk will drive any man to the comfort of other men, it's so commonplace that now those who aren't seen fucking someone else are deviants. It's a twisted world we live in out here and one that I refuse to take part in.'

  Jimmy nodded, not knowing if he was meant to respond or not.

  'For all intents and purposes you are still a member of C-Company and will continue to train with them, the only change will be your living quarters and your duties to me. You will also be exempt from the arena battles as your father doesn't want you killed.'

  Why had he completely ignored him then? A wave of shame washed through Jimmy, he had failed his father, a man who was indeed of far greater stature than he had ever imagined. Perhaps if he had diligently gone about his duties and showed patience with the routine enforced upon him he may have found out more about the man. That opportunity seemed gone now only after he realised it had existed. He'd have given anything at that moment to be back in The Chipped Flagon instead of captive to an insane Corporal in a desert a world away.

  There was a strange look in Dyson's eyes. 'Your father means a great deal to you, doesn't he?'

  Jimmy nodded. 'Yes sir.'

  'You're wondering why he left you here with me instead of taking you with the other one, aren't you?'

  'Yes sir.'

  There was something different about Dyson's voice, it almost seemed gentle. 'Sometimes a parent must let a child go in order to teach a final lesson.'

  Jimmy felt this was scant justification for leaving him here to die, he didn't dare voice such an opinion.

  'Perhaps he will return for you in due course, I wouldn't bet on it.'

  Just like that, Dyson's old voice had returned, his expression hardened and his eyes filled with anger as if furious at Jimmy for witnessing a brief glimpse of his humanity.

  'Jadil will inform you of your duties for the day, get out of my sight.'

  He left the room feeling no more certain of his life than before, he wondered just how long such a volatile man could hold to his word before painting the walls with Jimmy's blood.

  103

  Garth

  Garth woke to the sound of screams in the dead of night. He had been sleeping fitfully ever since Thom's collapse and stumbled groggily about in the darkness. It had been a long time since he had seen his friend in such pain and after their unexpected reunion it came as a body blow.

  These screams were different, they came from a multitude of voices as if from a great distance.

  Shoving his tent flap open, he called for the nearby guard and demanded to know what was going on in the camp. The man scurried off dutifully, Garth had his closest men well-drilled now.

  The command tent was situated deepest in the canyon but the rock walls seemed to do little to muffle the sound outside, the screams were growing closer by the minute.

  The young boy, Inglewood, ran up to him then, breathless and with a look of fear plain on his face. 'The lizards are attacking the camp!'

  Garth picked up his axe and bid the boy drag his armour over, he never kept it far from his person for fear of moments like this.

  As it was strapped back onto him he was overcome with a wave of memory. He had been here before. The screaming and the adrenaline mingling freely with his fear, it had been a long time since the massacre but it stayed with him fresh in his mind.

  'Stay close to me,' he said to the boy, watching him heft his shortsword uncertainly. Garth knew that it wouldn't do much good against the lizard creatures if they had planned this full-frontal assault in advance and broken through the outer palisade already.

  He leapt forward in a blur, bellowing to anyone who would listen to form up behind him for a counter-attack. Those who weren't paralysed with fear or pointlessly running the other way had already fitted their weapons and were ready to fight.

  The cold clarity came upon him once again, he was most likely going to die. He had watched his own commander torn apart as he had led the counter to the night massacre, he was under no illusions that this was his place now.

  A ringing in his ears seemed to block out the sounds of the battlefield as he charged on with a roar, where were the opposition? Where were these monsters that dared to trespass upon his camp, his people, his domain?

  It was then he sighted them, huge scaled nightmares seething forth between the canyon walls, crushing tents and men alike in their rush forward, there were so many of them travelling over the sand faster than any steed could muster on grass.

  He looked back at the scant gathering of soldiers and in their eyes he saw that truth once again, it was a hopeless venture to stand in defiance of the scaled tide.

  Turning back forward to face death, Garth hefted his axe high in the air and bellowed the charge.

  He launched himself out, sending sprays of sand in his wake and breaking into a sprint. There was no looking back to see if his men were falling in with him or fleeing upon sight of their demise. There was nothing else for Garth but that piercing moment of clarity: kill or be killed. All his problems and concerns melted away into impermanence when faced with that one primal statement of intent.

  He sighted his target, gripping the haft of his war axe with grim intent, it was the largest lizard on the front line and the forerunner of the attack. He raised his weapon and leapt straight at it, allowing the lizard's motion to devour any remaining distance between them. It paid him no heed, seemingly wanting to push past and into the thin remnant of those following.

  He came crashing down on the creature's neck and it let out a cry of bewilderment that something would have the temerity to attack it. Stumbling under the sudden impact, it went down not under Garth's trampling but the legs of the many lizards that followed.

  He looked up, they were not avoiding their fallen comrade in their forward surge, a stray leg caught Garth on the arm and the axe spun out of his grip. He steadied himself only in time to see a second pair of legs thundering over the clouds of sand. They ploughed over him as if he were a minor obstacle to be used as leverage. He felt his breastplate crack as he was pushed into the sand, at least what he hoped was his breastplate. Everything seemed vague and inconsistent, something kept tugging at him, as if to alert his groggy mind. The tugging became stronger, more substantial and penetrating in its insistence. He had to move, he had to get up and move his legs, legs that he could no longer feel. He tried to rise but found himself sinking back down into the sand.

  Sah'kel, he was in Sah'kel again. The commander had been killed, tossed into the air in a manner that would have been comic were it not horrifying. He had heard the snap of his spine cutting off the sound of his scream, he was on his own out in the desert. Why had they killed them all yet spared him?

  He stared u
p at the night sky, the stars were out in force and seemed to shift hazily in front of his vision, as if they were a curtain behind which the light shone.

  That damn tugging again, it was on his left arm, he tried to fight it but felt nothing but limpness.

  He stared at his arm then, it was a pair of hands clasping it and tugging ferociously. His muffled hearing started to clear, there was a voice calling him amidst the dull thunder of scaled feet pounding the sand.

  'General Garth we have to move sir! Please sir, we must make it to the canyon wall!'

  Inglewood. That was the boy's name, with eyes like his father.

  He stared at the wall beyond them, between the flashing bodies of the lizards he caught glimpses of men gathered there.

  The images faded in a flurry of sand and Garth felt nothing more.

  104

  Gadtor

  As he woke with a start, the screams were followed by a frantic pulling upon his leg. He had learned long ago to wake at an instant and was fully aware of Thom trying to rise, they leapt to their feet with surprising coordination and limped out of the tent to see if they could spot the commotion.

  The fire pit made it impossible to see at any distance in the gloom of the night, in a camp like this someone was always awake and keeping it burning so there was no utter darkness until the very fringes. It was from there which the sounds continued to emanate.

  More people were rising to the sound of the approaching screams, it spread like some foul gangrene right through the centre of the camp. They were clearly under attack and bodies started milling everywhere in response as men handed out weapons and armour so that they may meet this crisis prepared.

  Then he heard it, like a low thunder travelling across the ground at high speed. He looked over to Thom for clarification, the man's eyes had gone wide. He knew what it was that approached them then.