"All aboard?" the major called, climbing into the right front of the truck, next to another green-clad man. "Okay, Corporal, let's get back to base."
"I just need to get my sword from the cart," Tordun said.
The major snorted. "A sword? You won't need that where you're going, meatball-we have somewhat more sophisticated equipment at our disposal. Just leave the cutlery behind; the spell-caster said you could follow orders, so why don't you prove it? Just get in the wagon."
Tordun looked at Xylox, who gave his head an almost imperceptible shake. Tordun rolled his eyes, adopting the attitude of a martyr, and turned his back on his beloved blade.
****
The first sign of the General's base Grimm saw was an enormous, sheer, bowed wall, almost the same colour as the sand. Looking as if it had grown from the very desert, it cast a long, long shadow to the east; a mighty fortification indeed. It had various square openings that Grimm took to be either arrow-slits or openings for boiling oil or the like.
The vehicle took a slender, climbing path to the left of the vast wall, until they were on a level with the lofty parapet of the structure. A high barricade constructed of knotty wire extended as far as the eye could see, with various inner walls dividing the outside world from a more robust construction that looked as large as a fair-sized, walled town. Grimm saw a gate in the wire fence, beside which stood a tall box, like a tiny house, from which a soldier emerged, a Technological weapon at the ready.
On seeing Fremd, the soldier snapped into a position of attention and saluted. "Ident, please, Major," the man said, in a respectful tone.
The officer produced a small booklet from the breast pocket of his uniform. The sentry inspected it, handed it back and again gave his stylised salute, which the major returned with crisp efficiency. The man stepped back into his little hut, and the gate opened to admit the vehicle. A similar routine took place at each of three further gates, until the truck, at last, gained access to the central enclosure.
"Now we are inside, Questor Grimm, how would you suggest that we proceed from here?" Xylox muttered, his mouth close to the young mage's ear.
"That all depends on how the General treats us," Grimm responded, as the metal wagon rumbled and clattered through the last gate. "With any luck, he will allow us an opportunity to recuperate before he tries to interrogate us or put us to whatever use he has in mind for us."
The main compound was enormous; an open, rectangular area, perhaps three hundred by three hundred and fifty yards, surrounded on all sides by tall, boxy buildings.
A huge group of identically-dressed men, wearing large, heavy-looking backpacks and carrying Technological weapons, marched and wheeled in unison within the quadrangle, following the commands of a short, stout, stubble-headed instructor who delivered his orders at a phenomenal volume and at a bewildering rate.
The rattling vehicle moved around the perimeter of the noisy courtyard, the din of its motive unit almost inaudible over the metronomic crunch of the booted feet moving in unison, and the bawled orders of the instructor. It stopped at an archway between two of the buildings; across this opening was a horizontal red-and-white striped pole, like a barber's sign. At the approach of the vehicle, another green-uniformed man approached and gave a salute to the driver, his heels clicking together.
The officer sitting next to the driver returned the salute, and said, "Major Fremd, Hawk Patrol; new intake for GHQ." His voice was clipped, and the consonants rattled from his lips as if he were spitting out pips.
"ID, please, Major," the guard replied, in a similar voice; it seemed to Grimm that pronouns and articles were at a premium within this organisation. The staccato, stylised vocal delivery must be the military equivalent of Xylox's beloved Mage Speech, intended to keep the speaker at arm's length from the person he was addressing.
Fremd took the card from his breast pocket and presented it to the sentry, whose eyes flicked from the small rectangular piece of pasteboard, then to the major, and back again.
"ID accepted, Major," the guard said, returning the card and snapping into a salute. The watchman stepped to the side of the archway and lifted the striped barrier.
The vehicle rolled smoothly through the opening into another, smaller, courtyard, stopping next to a metal and glass doorway. In front of the twin doors stood a pair of armed guards, weapons slanted across their chests. The same routine of salute-present-salute took place, and the two guards stepped aside from the door, clicking their heels together in unison. Fremd exited the vehicle and opened the flap at the back.
"Time to get out and walk, people," the Major said, leading them into the main building. The doors hissed and slid aside as he slid his card through a slot. The interior of the building was clean and spacious, but Grimm felt far more impressed by the encompassing feeling of wonderful, icy, coolness. He stripped off his stained silk burnoose and dropped it to the floor, drinking in the glorious, fresh air, his eyes shut in ecstasy and his head thrown back. Opening them again, he saw all the others standing in similar postures, even including the imperturbable Xylox.
The chamber was carpeted in dark blue, and the walls of the room bore framed pictures of men and women in green uniforms. Fremd stood by a semi-circular desk, at which sat a young woman in the same attire. Her hair was not cropped like the major's, but it was screwed back in a severe bun. She wore a pair of small round spectacles, and she looked a little like Grimm's schoolteacher grandmother, but without the laughter lines that garlanded Gramma Drima's face. She wore a strange black headdress which looped over the top of her head. The right side of the headgear extended over her ear, and a slender stalk curved over her cheek, hovering at the right margin of her lips. She tapped her left ear and spoke, although she seemed to be staring into space rather than addressing anyone in the room.
When the woman had finished talking, she and Major Fremd exchanged salutes, and the major, nodding to the party, exited the room. For a moment, the clamour of the parade ground rang again through the hall, to be cut off by the hiss of the glass doors. The woman stood up and surveyed the group with a critical eye. As she stepped from behind her desk, Grimm tried not to stare at the fact that her green skirt came down only to her knees, revealing a pair of shapely calves; he had never seen a woman dressed in such a revealing manner before. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he could feel Drexelica's eyes boring into him.
"I am Lieutenant Harman," said the woman, sweeping a rather disparaging gaze around the dishevelled group. "If you would be so kind as to pick up your belongings, General Quelgrum will see you now. Please follow me."
"Lieutenant; we have come a long way, and we are very tired," Xylox said. "If we are to give the General our best impression, it might be best if we were able to wash, eat and rest for a while before we are introduced."
"Impossible," the severe-looking woman said. "General Quelgrum has expressed a desire to see you at this time. It is my duty to take you. Please come with me; the General is a busy man, and he doesn't like to be kept waiting."
The senior mage opened his mouth as if to speak, and then shut it again. Grimm also could see little point in arguing if they were to keep up the pretence of being Armitage's willing slaves.
Grimm shot Xylox a troubled glance. After all their tribulations in Griven, in the mountains, in Haven and in the desert, they were, at last, about to meet the man whose actions were behind their Quest, a powerful man they had sworn to defeat at all costs; but they were as defenceless as newborn babes.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 22: An Audience with the General