Escana (72 page)

Finally
he stopped running altogether, catching his breath in the process.
His time at Greyhawk had been unkind to his well-being and it had
become clear there was only so much Re'tak's healing could do for his
now-aching body.

Nothing.
There was no sign of the stranger following him, this unnerved Hern
even further and his attempts to grasp hold of the feeling and lock
it down were fruitless. What had his foe done to him that he had been
reduced to this?

Taking
a steadying breath, he recalled the contingency they had discussed on
their journey from the canyon.

I
have encountered our old friend, or should I say he encountered me.

Re'tak's
response
came
swiftly.
Are
you
harmed?
Why
did
you
not
inform
me?

Hern opened in mind and let his
friend understand, it only took a mere moment before clairvoyance
dawned.

So
the powerful one still resides in the fort yet chooses against
pursuit, interesting.

Had Hern been in full possession
of his equipment he could have divined a way to end this threat, all
he had on his person were the two swords he had procured and he
doubted that this man could be stopped by any force of arms on his
part. He hoped Re'tak could coax him out.

He
came to the defence of the fort before, will he not do so again?

It had been a point of much
contention between them, of which there were very few. Re'tak
believed that the stranger was acting in the best interests of the
fort in his encounter in the arena, Hern felt it was coincidental and
that all his actions were ones of self-preservation.

If
you were to attack the fort again you would put yourself at great
risk, the remaining guards would not hesitate in attempting to
overwhelm you. We needed to catch the stranger as he slept, we did
not do this.

So
you propose that we leave the rest for when the stranger sleeps?

No.
I must do this or die trying. It's a shame you're not venomous, we
could have used that against him.

It was a matter of pride for Hern
now. He knew that to think in those terms was to invite death upon
him but he would rather accept that fate than leave a soul alive as a
reminder that he couldn't deliver on his most dire threats.

The
stranger is no longer here, Hern. Try and sense him, open yourself up
to the potential hurt.

He wearily canvassed the fort
with his mind, he hadn't attempted to do so prior to this for fear of
yelling out in pain at having to brush against the force that was the
stranger.

There was no reason to fear,
Re'tak was entirely correct in his statement, the stranger had
vanished from sight. Could he be masking his presence somehow? Hern
dismissed the thought, if he considered the power of his enemy beyond
measure then he would attribute many things to it. An objective
analysis was needed here, not wild conjecture as to the potential
force they dealt with. For all intents and purposes the stranger had
gone, this was an unexpected boon to their cause and one he planned
to utilise.

His thoughts were intruded upon
by the sound of footsteps, he stretched his mind out without fear to
determine their inclination and numbers. There were seven of them
being led by a Je'daran native, not that it made any difference when
the vehemence of their thoughts became clear. There was an intruder
in their midst and they were going to track down and kill him.

He relayed the information to
Re'tak as he gathered it, since their split the lizard had remained
stationed outside of the entrance and clear of the light. Somehow
their presence had been detected, possibly during his flight from the
stranger. The time for subtlety was at an end, it was time for his
friend to aid him.

He heard footsteps coming from
the opposite direction now, this was no simple sweep of one area. It
was a coordinated pincer movement designed to flush the intruder out.

He judged the distances and
quickened his pace toward the second group of guards, if he could
just make it to the intersection that would give him an escape route.

Slipping into the side passage,
he heard the two groups converge upon each other and converse about
their lack of success. He could no longer back-track as they had
stopped directly in front of the intersection, the only way was
forward.

He could feel Re'tak eyeing his
progress with increasing concern, their original plan of Hern
dispatching the populace in their sleep had been ruined. Now their
admittedly suspect back up plan of ambushing the few remaining armed
members of the fort at the entrance was also in tatters, there was no
way for Hern to leave without being cut down.

He heard marching feet in the
corridor to his left and continued straight on, picking up the pace
lest he be caught prior to turning the corner.

The marching feet at the next
potential turning filled him with suspicion, were the guard so
numerous and well-drilled that they could sweep the fort this
effectively? Or was he being herded to a specific destination? Why
not simply ambush him and be done with it if they already knew his
location?

The further he proceeded down the
corridor the more apparent it became that he was being forced in that
direction. Given that his life was no longer being immediately
threatened by the guard he slowed his pace somewhat. If they were
under orders to herd him then he was going to be the obstinate
livestock and move as defiantly as possible.

He didn't need to look back to
know that he was now being followed down the corridor that led out to
the arena floor, he had deduced as much upon realising he was not
being hunted down. He would enter into the theatre and engage Dyson
again in the dramatic art of conversation for all his remaining men
to see.

It was with no surprise that upon
entering the arena a series of torches illuminated the walls, he
didn't know how long Dyson had planned this but it served its
purpose. He was expected and there was no darkness for him to hide
in.

He looked around the stands, they
were entirely empty. He looked behind him and there were no guards in
attendance. An ominous silence had descended upon the arena as a
single figure started to advance upon him.

'You're fucked,' Yalem said.

T
hom watched
on as Garth clung to life, each breath pushing back the inevitable a
moment longer. He had seen men like this before, tenacious fighters
that didn't know when they were beaten. The internal injuries were
too great and with no surgeon alive in what was left of the camp,
there was no hope.

It was a strange feeling,
anticipating the moment that his friend would die. For twenty years
Garth had been the only restraint that Thom had known, aside from
Gooseman he had been the only one who would urge peace and talk
sense. Now, after having squandered the final flirtations of
El-Vador, the one thing that had prevented him from falling was being
removed from his life.

They had set him in one of the
smaller tents of the fringe of the camp, the boy had gone in search
of anyone with medical training but had so far found nobody. Thom
felt a deep resentment bubble up once again, they had taken his
friend from a life he had earned without regrets. They had forced the
man back into the one place he never wanted to return, a place he had
spoken of only once in all his time away from it. A place that had
given him nightmares for years after the event, memories that had
sunk down as they were supplanted by the good he had wrought in
Escana.

They had done this to his friend
and Thom had done nothing to stop it, he had been powerless to
prevent it and not even present to witness it.

Anxiety grew in him as it mingled
with the anticipation, he didn't know what reaction he'd have when
the moment came, in a way the mortal wound had already wrought that
moment. Thom knew better than anyone that it would be different when
he shared the tent with a corpse. A man was never truly dead until
his final breath.

The flap of the tent opened and a
bald man stepped in, he surveyed Garth's condition with distaste and
then turned to Gadtor and Thom, noticing their conjoined nature and
clearly trying to figure out who was in command.

'Gentlemen, my name is Sisead, I
was informed that the General could be found in this tent. I was
unaware of his state of incapacitation, is there anyone currently in
charge of this operation?'

Thom raised his hand. 'That would
be me, what do you need to see a General for?'

Sisead judged the man's demeanour
for a moment and then decided to cut to the chase. 'I am to receive a
report on the progress of our military into Sah'kel and to issue new
orders from the Emperor himself.'

He laughed in disbelief. 'So
you're the Emperor's messenger boy. Well since you had to walk in
from a warp gate point I'm pretty sure you got a good view of how
we're faring.'

The man's face soured. 'I am a
liaison, not a messenger. If you really are the new General then you
would be wise to remember that.' He walked forward and pushed the
paper into Thom's hands in a forceful manner. 'The following is the
Emperor's decree, it cannot be gainsaid, even by one who calls
himself a General.'

Thom smoothed out the crumpled
paper and read the words out.

'To those in command of the armed
forces advancing on the Sah'kel front, it is the will of the Emperor
that you endeavour to push for victory within the coming year. To
this end a frontal assault will be mounted upon the increasing lizard
threat in an effort to overwhelm them and force their army into
retreat.'

'Are you serious?' He heard
Gadtor ask in disbelief.

'Silence, cur.' Sisead hissed.
'Your betters are speaking.'

Thom felt Gadtor start to rise
but laid a restraining hand on him. 'Hold your position, soldier. I
will deal with this personally.'

Together they rose and limped
over so that Thom was uncomfortably close to the Imperial liaison. He
locked eyes with the man and pushed the paper back into his chest,
watching the outrage spread across his features.

'It is death to lay hands on a
Levanese subject!' Sisead cried.

Thom smirked at him, drawing
Skullcleaver from his back. 'It is death for the Imperial liaison to
fuck off the General of this army.' He brought the blade down so that
it rested near the man's shoulder, hovering by his neck. 'If you ever
threaten me again I shall cut your head off and wear it on my cock
for the men to see what I think of being ordered around by little
bald eunuchs.'

Seeing the promise in Thom's
eyes, the man paled, whatever he had been paid to ferry this message
clearly wasn't enough for him to risk his well-being.

'The Emperor will hear of this.'
Sisead replied coldly, edging his way out of the tent and clutching
the paper as if it were a protection from the steel sliding off his
shoulder.

'I'm sure he will.'

An auspicious start to his career
as General, then again diplomacy had never been his strong point.

'You shouldn't have defied him,'
a raspy voice came from the bed. 'He is a snake, very dangerous.'

The reality of Garth's condition
fully imposed itself upon Thom's mind again. 'You shouldn't be
talking, old friend. Rest and recover your strength.'

The painful choking sound must
have been an attempt at laughter. 'You don't need to lie to me, I've
seen what you have. I was done the minute that beast trampled me.'

Thom sighed, every word was a
struggle and each took a toll on the scant time Garth had left.

'Do you remember the hills, Thom?
Running on the hills, just you and me with Mary.'

He said nothing, why was this
being brought up now?

'She sat on the top of the hill
with a gleam in her eye and had us race down it then back up to see
who'd get to her first. You won that race Thom, you were always
quicker than me.'

Fine. If he really wanted to have
this conversation now he'd have it. 'I only won because you let me,
Garth. I sprained my ankle on the way down, you practically carried
me back up.'

The smith nodded painfully, a
fresh trickle of blood running down the side of his cheek. 'That I
did, you said you wanted her so I let you finish first. She knew
you'd finish first, she was waiting for you Thom.'

Unbidden, he felt the tears
starting to well. He glanced at Gadtor but the man had turned his
head toward the tent wall and was wisely pretending that he wasn't
witness to any of this.

'She was waiting for me Garth,
you were right. What of it?' His throat had started to tighten up,
making the words hard to form.

'I never told you that I wanted
her hand too.'

Thom frowned. 'Why carry me then?
You could have won the race and claimed her, why didn't you if you
wanted her so?'