Rude Awakenings

by Jonathan Eaves

resting place of (fallen) monarchs, world leaders, lords of the realm, religious leaders and such-like. Directly underneath Hell-A lay Hell-B. Hell-B contained the tortured souls of high court judges, scientific leaders, No Bull Prize winners and similar. And so on, all the way to Hell-Z, of which the less said the better. Theodore was responsible for the fifteenth level of Hell, Hell-O, which, incredibly, just happened to be the ever-lasting dwelling place of the c-list celebrity... Theodore's level, consequently, was jammed to the rafters, so to speak, with ex-soap actors with failed pop careers, young girls of dubious morality, whose only talent seemed to be the ability to be photographed wearing short skirts and no underwear, back bench politicians and anybody, anywhere who had ever appeared on anything that had the word reality attached to it...

  Hell-O, in Theodore's opinion, was probably the toughest level to administer. The deluded denizens of the fifteenth level never ceased to cause no end of problems for Theodore, problems which generally only he could deal with, and would often take up so much of his time that he struggled to attend to his duties on Terra Infirma. But De Ville considered himself to be a high achiever and he would not neglect his responsibilities up top.

  He considered again the problem of the Merrie Men and sighed. That they'd split up into two groups meant that dealing with them would be even more difficult. His resources were stretched thin - thanks to a recent re-organisation, during which down-sizing had seemed to be the popular buzz-phrase - so he'd simply have to delegate. He mulled over the personnel available to him and realised with growing dread that there was no-one other than Henry, and he hated to rely on family.

  74

  After having despatched Sergeant Lias and his volunteer private westwards Captain Grantt, Lieutenant Shard and the Trifles had immediately set off in the opposite direction and were soon eating up the ground.

  Never once pausing to rest, the hours passed quickly. The landscape changed from the rolling green of the downs to dense scrub, before the scrub started to become fairly sparse. Eventually they came across the tracks of three horses which were heading straight towards the Forts and Grantt urged the troops to an even faster pace. A short while later, in the early morning darkness, the Forts appeared, lying low upon the horizon. There was, however, no sight of the fugitives. 'Come on,' he grunted, and struck out for the Forts.

  75

  Bloody hell,' said Shale, looking out over the wall. 'It's a busy ol' night.'

  'What?' replied Scree who was sitting with his back against the wall and absent-mindedly running a rock down the length of the blade of a battered, tarnished sword. He didn't know why, but he'd seen proper soldiers do it... 'And anyway it's morning by now-'

  'There's a party approaching,' explained Shale.

  'Really? Have they brought paper hats?'

  'Yes, very funny,' Shale replied. 'They're coming on pretty fast...

  Hang on a minute - it's a party of trolls. And... oh shit!'

  'What?' Scree asked, hearing the sudden panic in Shale's voice. He jumped to his feet.

  'It's the captain,' Shale replied.

  'Oh shit!' agreed Scree. 'What do you think he wants?'

  'I don't know,' replied Shale. 'But, if you think about it, it never seems to be good news for us whenever he turns up.'

  Scree climbed up onto the wall. 'You don't think it's got something to do with that dwarf, do you?'

  'Nah,' replied Shale. 'Can't be. The little bugger said he was working for the captain, didn't he? As a, what did he call it, a Him-foam-ation Officer.'

  'Yeah, and he had the captain's daughter with him,' Scree agreed, albeit somewhat hesitantly.

  'That's right. And that heathen fella was with them as well.' But now there was a hint of doubt creeping into Shale's voice. 'Here, Scree, you don't think that maybe the little short-arse was lying?'

  'Nah,' said Scree. 'Why, do you think he was lying?'

  'No way. He couldn't have been. Could he?'

  The two trolls looked at each other. 'Oh bollocks,' they said in unison.

  Fifteen minutes later Scree and Shale were hanging by their feet from the ramparts whilst Grantt was impatiently watching arrangements be made for their former sergeant to be hoisted alongside them. 'Come on, Shard, hurry up,' he grunted irritably. In his mind he reviewed the last quarter of an hour, which only served to infuriate him even further.

  As he and Shard's men had approached the Forts and crossed the spoor of the outlaws Grantt had been confident that they would have been detained by the garrison there. But as he had drawn near to the gate he was surprised not to have been challenged, and even more surprised to find the gates un-trolled.

  A monstrous bellow had brought a sleepy sergeant running. 'Who is supposedly guarding these gates?' Grantt had demanded. The sergeant, who knew he was looking upon his career in tatters, stood rigidly to attention, and, with as much dignity as he could muster, replied, 'Privates Scree and Shale, sir.' He stamped his right foot down hard and saluted. 'TTG, sir,' he added.

  'Those two clowns, eh, Private?'

  As demotions go that was record-breakingly quick, thought the erstwhile sergeant. 'Yes sir,' he replied.

  'And where do you think they are now, Private?'

  Private Erstwhile-Sergeant tried to look around him whilst continuing to stand to attention and keep his eyes front. It proved rather difficult. 'Um... I'm not sure, sir. Maybe I should go and take a look for them, sir?' he asked hopefully. Just getting away from the captain's unwavering glare would be a momentary relief.

  'I think we should all go and look for them, Private.' He turned to Shard. 'Lieutenant, we appear to have a couple of deserters. Skirmish order please, and once you have found them bring them directly to me.' He turned back to Erstwhile-Sergeant. 'Private, I don't suppose you have seen a small party of fugitives pass this way, three humans and a dwarf, all mounted? No?' He sighed. 'Somehow that doesn't surprise me.'

  76

  Scree and Shale had not managed to get far and were dragged back to face the Captain within minutes. Now, suspended upside-down, they decided to do what the dwarf had advised them to do and feign ignorance - not that much feigning was required.

  'So,' Grantt started. 'Let's talk firstly about why you have abandoned your post.'

  'Er... tea break, sir?' ventured Scree.

  'Comfort break?' added Shale.

  Grantt took a step towards them, and they cowered. 'You two,' the captain said quietly, 'are possibly the worse guards I have ever come across and if you are expecting that the worst that can happen to you is a court martial and dishonourable discharge, you are sadly mistaken.' He struggled to control his rage. 'What I am going to do to you,' he continued menacingly, 'will serve as an example to every other troll in the Guards, territorial or not. It will involve not only humiliation, but pain beyond both of your imaginations.' He paused to let this sink in. 'Furthermore, I will personally ensure you will not see the light of day for the remainder of your lives. Your wives and children will slowly forget that you ever existed, whilst you two will be constantly toiling in the Mines of Kwartzkopf, digging and scraping until you're unable to tell where you end and the dark, cold rocky walls begin. Do you understand?'

  The two territorials were too traumatised to respond.

  'But,' Grantt went on, backing away from them, 'there may just be a way for you to save yourselves from such a fate.'

  Scree and Shale looked up, or, more precisely, down, into the captain's face.

  'If you tell me how you allowed the fugitives to escape you then I may find it in myself to be a little bit more lenient. And, in case you are thinking of denying all knowledge, I do already know that you did allow the outlaws to evade capture, for Lieutenant Shard has picked up their trail heading eastwards from here. So, would you like to tell me what happened?'

  Scree, whose last vestiges of sense had been terrified out of him, was becoming increasingly unsure about the schtum strategy. 'Fugitives, sir? N... not sure what you're talking about, sir' he stammere
d. 'Unless, of course, you're talking about that tip-top him-foam-ation fella of yours... But then I wouldn't expect you to mention him and, of course, you wouldn't expect us to mention him either,' he continued, winking, 'what with it being tip-top secret and all that, eh sir?'

  Shale, who still had enough sense left to realise that the game was well and truly up, nudged Scree. 'Shut up, you bloody idiot,' he warned his companion. He turned to the captain. 'Sir, we didn't realise they were fugitives. The dwarf said he was an officer under your command, escorting prisoners.'

  'So you were duped. How long is it since you let them escape?'

  'Two or three hours, sir?'

  'Very well. Shard, have someone keep an eye on these two and the other private whilst I decide what to do with them.'

  77

  'But sir, is there no-one else?' asked Lieutenant Shard grimly. Captain Grantt had just ordered the lieutenant and a handful of his trolls to hold the fort whilst a messenger was sent to Marasmus to arrange for reinforcements.

  'No, Lieutenant,' replied the captain. 'There is no one else I can trust. Reinforcements will be here sometime later today, then I want you to return to Marasmus with these...' - he looked up at the three upside down trolls - 'prisoners. I will take the remainder of your troops and continue the pursuit of the outlaws.'

  'Very well, sir,' agreed a disappointed Shard. 'Good luck.'

  'Thank you, Lieutenant. Perhaps you could gather your Trifles and we will get underway.'

  'Yes, sir.'

  78

  Grantt once again set off at a murderous pace. Had trolls possessed anything that was remotely like skin then these outlaws would have gotten right under his. But his seething rage did carry one advantage; it seemed to render him indefatigable. The Trifles, elite though they were, struggled to keep up with the captain's punishing speed and soon they were spread out dangerously and would have been susceptible to an ambush had they been pursuing a larger party. As it was Grantt felt he could take risks that he ordinarily would not have dared. Speed was of the essence, he felt, so he refused to contemplate stopping, and continued tirelessly onwards.

  79

  As soon as Grantt was out of sight Lieutenant Shard turned to his sergeant, a huge troll by the name of Scrape. 'Sergeant, cut those trolls down, see they're not harmed, then put the manacles on them.'

  Once Privates Scree, Shale and Erstwhile-Sergeant were the right way up and safely secured he addressed them. 'The captain is correct. You are all a disgrace to trollhood.' He shook his head in disgust. 'However, whilst you are in my custody you will be treated with all due convention. Therefore you will not be harmed in any way but you will wear shackles until you are securely imprisoned in Marasmus. We will set out as soon as reinforcements arrive.' He turned to leave but stopped. He looked the prisoners up and down. 'You make me ashamed to be a soldier.' He shook his head once more and walked away slowly.

  'Well there's a turn up,' said Scree after a few moments.

  'What's that?' asked Shale.

  'We'll be dragged home in chains and shame.'

  'Shut up, you bloody morons,' said a despondent Erstwhile-Sergeant.

  80

  Henry looked up with dismay as his cousin walked into his tiny office.

  Theodore smiled a sickly smile. 'Hello, Henry,' he said, treacle apparent in his voice.

  'Oh. Hello, Theo,' Henry replied wearily. Nothing good ever came from a meeting with Theodore. 'What brings you here?'

  Theodore looked down at Henry. There was a vague familial similarity between the two, but whereas Theodore was tall, slender and was possessed of a certain sharpness around the edges, Henry tended towards the shorter, rounder and more blurry.

  'You look... well,' said Theodore.

  Henry sighed. 'What do you want, Theodore?' he asked miserably. 'I'm busy.'

  Theodore