Escana (63 page)

'Capital!' Belesdair exclaimed,
moving forward with surprisingly sure steps and offering her his arm.
Ella looped her own arm around his, trying to shake off the feeling
of entrapment in doing so.

'Upper Levanin was created in a
time beyond memory by our Lord Lektus, he enthused the column of pure
energy and deigned that the greatest of mankind soar higher than the
clouds in their endeavours. Every structure you see was cast with his
divine blessing out of the purest white marble that faded not with
the passage of years. You may have seen imitations adorning places of
power in the other cities and towns that you have visited across the
Empire, they are a mere homage to the grace and majesty that has been
bestowed upon us.'

They walked as he chattered on
about his blessed city. Ella feigned interest in his babbling and
grew weary of the thousandth block of marble that she passed.
Apparently the lower city was like any other while the upper was
reserved for thinkers and philosophers and the creative souls. Most
of which had spent their lives toiling in Lower Levanin for the
opportunity to ascend. It amused her that the man's deeply spiritual
rendition of Levanin's creation clashed with what El-Vador had told
her. What need had she of religion when a seemingly ageless demi-god
was there in the flesh?

She had been vaguely listening to
his incessant chatter and goading him on with the occasional question
when he turned to a topic of interest.

'Within this building is the
Levanin Academy, where the youth from all over the realm gather and
are taught accordingly how to control their power.'

Ella thought it was an odd way of
expressing it. 'I suppose that to the man of education, knowledge is
a form of power.'

Belesdair shook his head. 'I'm
beginning to see why Everalm insisted that we have this tour
together, you really do not know the power of which I speak, do you?'

Now Ella was interested. 'I must
profess my ignorance Belesdair, if I have erred I only ask that you
chastise me lightly and correct me swiftly.'

'The academy of Levanin is for
the education of those blessed with great power bestowed upon them by
our Lord Lektus.'

Ella remained confused, the
spiritual roots of his explanations were obfuscating what actually
went on behind those marble pillars. 'What exactly do you mean by
power?'

The old man sighed. 'You are not
a believer in our Lord, I can hear it in your words. Observe if you
will and consider this against what you already believe to be true.'

He unlinked his arm from hers and
crossed over to the entrance of the building, he appeared to be
staring at a flower bed.

'I am but an old man, my powers
have weakened as Lektus wills, I relinquish my share to the youth.'
He raised an arm theatrically, leaving Ella none the wiser as to what
he was doing.

'I have met many who claim that
logic and a sound reasoning are the basis for all knowledge, I
challenge that belief with that which we have yet to comprehend.
Perhaps in time all that I know will be explained away by those who
seek to define the world in their terms, for now every nay-sayer has
yet to understand this.'

He turned, arm stilled raised and
his second hand shaking as if with palsy. Suspended between both of
them was a flower, gently shaking the soil off its stem in time with
the movement of his hand. He willed it outward and it travelled
across the space between them, hovering gently above her hand. She
reached out tentatively, touching the stem with a single finger. It
wasn't a trick or an illusion, the flower was suspended in mid-air
before her and it was entirely real.

'Have faith, my good lady Ella.
It is as Lektus wills it and the power he has given me is but a taste
of what transpires behind those walls, safely away from the world
below us. I know in my heart there is nothing to compare to the power
of the Almighty himself.'

No, that's where he was wrong.
She had no need for an Almighty, for what she had seen rendered this
old man's parlour trick meaningless.

T
hings were
changing around Greyhawk and Jadil didn't care for it. First there
had been the lizard creature's arrival that had led to extra feeding
duties, then there were the two newcomers to A-Company that had them
very worried indeed. The fallout of their actions in the arena had
the guards constantly vigilant on duty should the scaled monster
return to feast upon Greyhawk. Now their Captain had been
incapacitated and they feared an uprising spearheaded by these new
powerful combatants.

There was a nervous tension in
the dry air that refused to clear, Jadil didn't care for that either.
He was a simple man who had forged the semblance of a life out here
in the harsh desert after his disgrace back in Je'dara. It had taken
him years to get used to the bigotry of the guards stationed here but
over time he had found his place and didn't want that needlessly
destroyed by some revolutionary thinking they could run Sah'kel
better than Corporal Dyson.

This was the most tedious part of
his life, standing out in the mid-day sun in full armour trying to
spy any unexpected arrivals in the wavering distance. All in all it
was an entirely pointless exercise given that Sah'kel's only visitors
were scheduled well in advance. For some reason Dyson was insistent
that they maintain constant watch over the gate, it came off to Jadil
as overly paranoid but who was he to question his superiors?

Through virtue of the length of
time he had served here and Yalem's incapacitation he had found
himself in the unenviable position of occasionally filling in for the
Guard Captain. He only seemed to get these duties when the Corporal
was in his foulest of moods, from what he heard from the other guards
that was nearly all the time these days.

He blinked his eyes to clear them
of the white flash, all too familiar of the effect the heat of the
desert could have on his sight. This time it was different, the
whiteness wasn't fading, a single point of light formed nearby and
expanded outward until it was at least eight feet in height. It
looked awfully like a...

A man stepped out of the
brightness, raising a hand to his brows to ward off the blinding sun.
The light closed behind him and everything returned to what it was
before.

Jadil raised his spear warily, in
all his time with the guard he had never been told how to proceed
should an uninvited guest arrive at the fort. Those who knew of
Greyhawk but had no official business there tended to stay away.

'Greetings, guardsman,' the man
said, lowering his hands as he approached at an amiable pace.

'Who be you and why you come to
Greyhawk?' Jadil asked, trying to sound as officious as possible.

The man smiled back at him,
though on his cavernous face the expression wasn't overly endearing.
'I am here on official business, I heard there was an unreported
disturbance possibly caused by a rogue talent. Is Corporal Dyson
still in command of this fort?'

What did the man mean by
disturbances? Was he talking about the recent events in the arena?
What was that thing that he had appeared out of?

'My good man, your eyes are full
of questions but your lips remain shut, I would appreciate a response
so I need not be kept much longer in this blazing heat.'

Jadil decided to play it by the
book, he knew that no unauthorised visitors were allowed to enter the
fort for fear of usurpers, Dyson had explicitly mentioned that rule
to him many times.

'I'm sorry friend, I cannot let
you pass. I tell Dyson of your arrival if you wish, you must stay out
now.'

The smile flickered slightly as
the man took a few more steps forward.

'You have no idea who I am, do
you?' he said.

Having the man closer wasn't
imposing in the physical sense, it was rather an unsettling aura
about him that suggested danger. Jadil gripped his spear a little
tighter and hoped he wouldn't be forced into defending himself.

'No, I do not know who you are,'
he offered, trying to remain calm and diplomatic.

The man's eyes flashed briefly,
yet Jadil didn't jump in shock. Instead he seemed rooted to the
ground as if the sand beneath him had sucked his ankles in.

'You will let me pass, you will
open the gate and you will take me to see Corporal Dyson.'

Jadil felt a pressure building in
his head, he knew that he wasn't to let any potential intruders pass
on pain of death, especially strangers with questionable business
like the man standing before him. For some reason the facts of the
matter slipped away from him like so much inconsequential
nothingness. He had been ordered to admit the man and take him to
Dyson, there was something entirely agreeable about such a
suggestion. After all, if he was a high-ranking official of the
Emperor then it was his duty to bow to the man's will.

His body seemed to move of its
own accord, unlocking the door within the gate for the man to step
through. It was like being a spectator of his own actions and
applauding the rightness of them. He was merely a guard, it was not
in his best interests to defy an agent of the Empire over such a
nonsensical ruling. After all, how much damage could one man do?

They walked down the corridors
together and nobody thought to stop them. A senior guard escorting
what looked to be another messenger from Levanin was something that
the guards tried to avoid for fear of reprisal.

Jadil hadn't mastered Yalem's
strange knocking on the door of Dyson but he had developed a suitably
unique one of his own that the Corporal had made sure he was familiar
with.

As the muffled voice bid them
enter, he opened the door for his esteemed guest and walked in after
him.

Dyson looked furious at being
interrupted, upon noticing the unfamiliar man his anger was joined by
confusion and fear.

'Jadil, what is the meaning of
this? Who is this man?'

Jadil's lips were sealed though,
it was not his place to speak.

'Corporal Dyson I assume?' the
stranger said, planting his arms on either side of the desk. 'My name
is Harold Gooseman, we need to talk.'

G
adtor never
realised just how much waiting was involved in being a drafted
recruit of the Imperial army. The appalling state of the camp didn't
help with that, neither did the continuous odd looks he received for
the way he was being held captive. He had yet to see any others with
a block clasping their leg to another human being.

The worst part about it all was
that he need not be here. After mistakenly trusting Kelgrimm
following the delusion and betrayal brought about by the creature
called El-Vador, he had ended up tied to an ill-tempered man who
seemed ready to die. He had just about got used to the consequences
of constantly being in the man's space, it was the remorse over his
actions that crippled him. The long hours stretched out seemingly
without end as he turned over in his mind all his mistakes and
regrets and pondered how different it could have been if he had just
listened to Falarus in that dungeon.

He had warned him that they are
going to try and divide the two of them in spirit, he had told him
not to listen whatever they said. Gadtor had not heeded those words
and they had come at the cost of his closest friend's life and an
exile to this nightmare.

He had expected to be taken
advantage of considering their condition, yet none of the people who
gave them looks went so far as to comment. Perhaps this was one of
the few advantages of being trapped with such an intimidating man,
there was something highly unnerving about Thom that every man in the
camp they'd met seemed both to pick up on and wish to avoid.

Thom had even fewer words to say
to Gadtor as the days ran on, nothing changed in the camp either.
There was a sense of great unrest that no merriment could seem to
penetrate, they all had that same look in their eyes. Everyone was
waiting for the inevitable tide of scales and claws to surface over
the dunes and smash them to oblivion against the canyon walls.

'We're going to die, aren't we?'
Gadtor said.

Thom gave him an odd look.
'You're not just figuring that out now, are you?'

He shook his head. No, he had
known that there was no way out of this situation, he had gleaned as
much from what little conversation he could get out of those around
him.

'Who are you?' Gadtor asked him
yet again.

Thom turned to face him now,
there was no anger in his eyes though. 'I considered taking my sword
and severing both our legs from this snare, just to be free from that
question you keep asking. I will ask you in return a single question,
if you answer incorrectly I will kill you. If you respond the way I
want you to I will answer you.'

Gadtor didn't doubt the sincerity
in the man's voice, he was generally considering it depending on his
response.

'What's the question you want me
to answer?'