The Fort, page 5
Instead, I steeled my nerves and followed him.
We moved a bit further on the beach and soon walked inside a pool of blood soaking the sand. It was recent. Very recent. Years of military training kicked in and we instinctively took a defensive position, back to back, each of us facing the potential threat with our weapons. We stood like this for some minutes until we were convinced that whoever—or whatever—had done this was now far.
“There is nothing we can do for them now, Lieutenant. Let’s head back to the fort.”
He started towards the garrison and I was following his steps when I was suddenly overwhelmed by a strange sensation. I felt a chill in my bones, and the air unexpectedly seemed denser. I knew that I was under a lot of stress and I was afraid that maybe I was imagining things, so I didn’t say a word and kept walking behind the Colonel.
But something was not right there. Even less than usual. There was a presence nearby, very close to us, and I couldn’t see anything. I decided to trust my feelings and warned Colonel Balakov:
“Colonel, I think we are being followed.”
It happened in the blink of an eye.
The Colonel turned to look at me and in a swift movement threw his saber in my direction. Everything was unfolding in slow motion in my mind, but I couldn’t move. I saw death approaching in the form of a sharp tip coming straight towards my left eye, observed it pass only a few centimeters over my shoulder. I heard the noise of metal cutting in soft flesh, then a shriek, and my throat was splashed with a cold goo smelling like rotten fish.
Colonel Balakov took a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe my neck and the icy sensation disappear. Then he used it to clean his saber, although it didn’t seem to be stained at all, and threw it behind me. I didn’t dare to look at what was there, but my curiosity was too strong. I had to know. With a great effort of will, I forced myself to turn around and see.
There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Only the empty foggy beach. This damn beach!
“Did you think I wanted to kill you, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You should have warned me before, Lieutenant Giorgio. It would have been less risky for both of us. That was a close one.”
“I should have told you what, my Colonel? What just happened?”
He looked at me intensely. We were both tired, we were both strained, and we had both been dancing with the Great Reaper too intimately in the last minutes. Every man-at-arm admits it is draining to have a close encounter with death. But he understood what had just happened, and I didn’t. This made a huge difference.
I didn’t know what I was facing, I couldn’t put a name on our enemy. What had been attacking us? What killed the patrol?
“You can feel them, Giorgio. You can’t see them yet, but soon you will.”
He paused for a moment, his eyes never leaving mine, before adding:
“I can see them, you know. I can see them quite well.”
I wondered what he meant. Could he observe the horrible creatures of my dreams? Were they real?
As improbable as it is, when we were both on this foggy beach, this is what I believed. I am not sure anymore. I am not sure of anything anymore.
“Let’s go back to the fort now, Lieutenant. We spent too much time here and I don’t want Sergeant James to throw a search party for us. We already lost too many men today.”
***
Theodora, there is something going on here and I think I start to have an idea of what’s happening. I hope I am wrong. There are still many things that I don’t know. I am scared.
I will always love you
Giorgio
Letter 10
My love,
I haven’t written to you for a long time, I’ve been caught again in the fort’s routine and didn’t even realize that almost three months have gone by.
After the beach incident in which two men were killed, things came back to normal here. As normal as it can be in Worldsend Garrison, at least. I haven’t had any nightmare for a while, and my nights have been filled with pleasant memories. Recollections from the past mainly.
I dream of the green hills of Demevici where I grew as a child. I remember its clear stream with fresh water full of trout and crayfish just waiting to be picked up by young daredevils like me.
I dream of the Military School at Manaya, where I spent six years studying the art of war. Life was not easy there—we had to learn discipline the hard way—, but it’s been my home and I met many nice people in those buildings. Some of them, I could have called friends. I have good and cheerful memories from there, and I invariably wake up with a smile.
And obviously, I dream of you.
I remember our moments together, the simple happiness of holding your hand, the deep love we shared … and my heart is overwhelmed by nostalgia. But something is bothering me, though. Your face is always concealed in those memories.
I see you from the back and I can distinguish only your lovely blonde wavy hair.
I see you in bed, hiding under the blanket and I only hear your laugh.
I see you in the sunset and only the silhouette of your visage can be admired.
I know what it means, no matter how much I reject the idea. I know that I am starting to forget you.
Don’t misunderstand me, my sweet Theodora, my love for you is still strong and it will never die. But I think that my mind is gradually accepting that I will not see you again. My subconscious is attempting to delete your image from my memory to soothe the pain of losing you. You must be going through the same process, slowly leaving the past behind and trying to move forward. After all, you believe me dead. There is no hope for you to hang on. You have no reason to think of me.
But I know that I am alive. While this is true, there will be a motive for optimism. Now more than ever, my sweet Theodora.
I might have found a way to come back to you.
***
I discovered that, actually, not as much information is withheld from me as I initially thought. I just need to find the right person to ask. Ribolev, one of the youngest soldiers here, left Worldsend Garrison a couple of weeks ago. He simply went through the door and started on the road, the one heading to the Karabia Desert and The Marsh. The one leading back to civilization. The one leading back to you.
Nobody tried to stop him.
I asked Lieutenant Sebastian if he was aware that Ribolev had departed, and his answer was affirmative. When I inquired if he knew where he was going, his reply was a plain:
“He will be back in fourteen days.”
Lieutenant Sebastian was right. Yesterday, two weeks after he had left, Ribolev came back with a cart pulled by two horses, and a fresh supply of food and water. I was amazed to discover that someone at Worldsend Garrison—a simple soldier—, had contacts with the external world.
Maybe he could carry those letters to you. Perhaps he could even take me with him on his next excursion.
Exalted, I went to talk to him in the evening, decided to gather as much information as possible without raising suspicion concerning my real intentions. I thought this would be wise to ask some innocent questions about the food he just brought to start with. Afterwards, I would try to stir the conversation towards his contacts with the outer world.
“Ribolev, what did you bring us today? Something tasty I hope!”
“Same as last month, Lieutenant.”
“Next time you should ask for some ale. I wouldn’t mind drinking one.”
He looked at me as if I were some kind of lunatic. Then, he remembered that despite my rank I was still a freshman at Worldsend Garrison. He explained everything to me.
***
Every month, he would walk through the Karabia Desert alone. And every month, where the desert gives place to The Marsh, he would find a wagon full of supplies pulled by two horses. There was no one to talk to, just the cart and the two steeds waiting for him.
Sometimes, the carriage was made of four beasts. This meant that he had new soldiers to take with him to the fort. They were carried with the food, water and weapons, sleeping all the way, waking up in the garrison. Quite often, there would also be a letter for the Colonel, but he never opened it, obviously. His job was simply to bring supplies and recruits to the fort. This was exactly what he was doing.
“I see. And I guess you will have to return the carriage soon, then.”
“No, Sir. This is Armin’s task, not mine. I only bring the supply, he’s the one taking back the cart. I imagine he leaves it at the same place where I find it. You should question him.”
I didn’t need to ask anything to Armin, I already had enough to think about. I thanked him and told him good night before heading towards the officer’s building.
***
Ribolev had been giving me precious information. The soldiers had no contact with the outer world, it is true. They were just picking up supplies left by someone and then returning the empty cart at the same place for the villagers—or the army, or whoever was keeping us here—, to recover it.
However, a man from Worldsend Garrison was in touch with the people from outside, although not directly. The Colonel was receiving letters and I would bet everything I own—even if technically I don’t own anything anymore—that he was also sending some through Armin. Maybe I could find a way to add mine with the next trip? I would have to be discreet, and I couldn’t be sure that they will not be thrown by whoever gets the Colonel’s messages, but this is presently my only chance and I am seriously considering taking it.
There is something else that I learned from Ribolev’s story, something much more troubling than the fact that the Colonel is receiving letters, which is actually not surprising.
Why did Ribolev come back? Why does Armin come back every time instead of traversing The Marsh on the cart pulled by those horses and making it to freedom?
Life is not that bad at Worldsend Garrison. Just like the Colonel said on the first day, it is very similar to living in any other fort. But it is a prison, with no hope of escaping. After crossing the desert for five days, they would have only three more to go to reach the city of Karabia and have a chance for a new beginning.
So, why would Ribolev and Armin choose to come back here each time?
There is something linking those men to Worldsend Garrison, something powerful enough to make them decide to live here as prisoners in the middle of nowhere, instead of enjoying the possibility of a new chance as a free person.
I’ve learned much since my arrival here, but I still need to uncover many things.
Armin is leaving tomorrow. I resolved not to give him my letters to you. Not this time. Maybe next month.
Giorgio.
Letter 11
Dear Theodora,
I made some important discoveries concerning the potion they give us.
It’s been some time already that I knew the water in itself is perfectly normal. It is brought from Karabia in huge tanks, and we use it for both cooking and drinking. It has no taste, no odor, and no special properties. Once per week, an elixir is added in our glasses. It gives the beverage a very enjoyable sweet flowery flavor, and everybody likes it.
This is one of the important aspects to be noted. Nobody’s forced to drink this. Soldiers know about it, and they all freely decide to swallow it. For the taste, for the strength, and because this is what the others do.
Nobody’s complaining about it, nobody’s questioning it. This is just the way things are here.
***
The elixir is kept in the Colonel’s office. When I told him that I had a certain interest in it, he gave me a full bottle of it, allowing me to do any trial I considered suitable. His only limitation was that I was not authorized to provide it to any soldier without informing him and obtaining his consent. This was no problem; I was planning to use myself for the tests.
I doubled the dose for the first weeks, and then tripled it. I came to the conclusion that its effects vary, but not according to the quantity ingested.
I haven’t been able to list all of its implications, and it seems nobody understands them. There is much to be discovered about this strange elixir, and even if I have uncovered some of its secrets, I am convinced that I can still learn quite a lot. I wish I had more time to dedicate to this project.
I will let you know.
Giorgio
Letter 12
Dear Theodora,
The nightmares are back, worse than ever.
I am not the only one having them, it seems that others in the fort have had their rest troubled by abominable visions. I hear them screaming at night, I see their tired faces during the day. They are scared and the tension among the soldiers is palpable. Nobody’s sleeping well, and patrols have been doubled.
Colonel Balakov wants me to report any strange dream I have, and this is what I do now. He always listens carefully, asking for details, putting many questions.
“Where were you exactly?”
“What did you see?”
“Were you alone?”
I try to be as accurate as possible in my answers.
I do not wish to remember those awful dreams. They are even more unsettling now than when I came to Worldsend Garrison. However, I finally understood how important they are, and what they potentially mean. I still don’t know how all this works, but I’m starting to figure out things.
I am afraid to ask questions.
Neither do I want to feel responsible for the death of another patrol, so I do my best to recall the horrors of my visions and transmit them to the Colonel. He is always attentive to my reports, believing every word I say. A kind of mutual respect came to grow between us and we trust each other.
I hope I will not disappoint him.
***
I do not intend to detail my dreams in those letters. They are too awful and I already have to relive them for Colonel Balakov. Anyway, I am not sure I could recall them again and keep my sanity. There is only so much a man can take, and I feel that my limits are being stretched.
There are some things I want to tell you, though.
In those nightmares, I am always on the beach. There is something with this part of the Great Ocean, where it meets the Valkyan sea.
I was wrong. Worldsend Garrison is not a strange place, it’s just a fort, like any other in the Empire.
But it happens to be built close to this beach and those dreadful rocks. There is nothing alive in this area. Nothing in the water, nothing in the air, and nothing on the ground. We, soldiers of Worldsend garrison, are the only ones. We, humans, do not fit in this dead landscape.
I can’t help but wonder, though… Are we really the only ones?
I do not always dream of those abominations. Sometimes I simply feel a presence, a hostile power all around me, terrifying me, chilling my bones, leaving me crying and screaming … even if I do not see anything.
Those are the “good” nightmares.
When I see them… I can’t write about it. I just want for you to know that the animal-like creatures I watched in my first visions are just childish scarecrows. There are worse things than them. Unimaginable horrors with too many heads and limbs loom in the darkness of those rocks.
This place is doomed.
Letter 13
Theodora,
Our Commander is dead.
Colonel Balakov is dead.
Even when I write those words, it is hard for me to believe them. But they are genuine. I, unfortunately, know it firsthand.
I can’t accept the truth.
I need to discuss with Lieutenant Sebastian. Our situation is dire. I’ll tell you tomorrow.
Letter 14
Theodora,
Let me tell you how this happened. Writing it will help the truth to sink in.
Some days ago, we almost lost a patrol on the beach. Four men.
They were on the Eastern side of the bay, where the Cliffs of Insanity end. The tide was high, and water was covering most of the shoreline. The agitation was great among the soldiers standing guard. After the last nights, everybody was tensed and I can imagine that there, on the beach, it was even harder for them. It seems they were telling jokes in an attempt to keep their spirits up when one of them, a private named Inigo Montoya, started to panic, saying they were coming.
Obviously, there was nothing to be seen and his partners asked him if he was OK. Inigo was getting hysterical and began to shoot uncontrollably towards the ocean. None of the other guys tried to stop him, they knew better than this.
Instead, they opened fire as well.
Then, according to them, they heard an “unearthly scream of pain and hate” and a big splash in the water. Frightened, they came back directly to the fort to tell their story and refused to resume their guard.
If half of what they claim is true, I can’t blame them.
I expected the Colonel to order them to behave like soldiers and to fulfill their duty, but he discharged them and requested the patrols to be tripled.
***
This incident is the reason why the patrol that didn’t come back yesterday was made of six men.
Six soldiers, Theodora. Six brilliant combatants, among the bravest ones in the Empire. They had fought hundreds of enemies, they had survived the bloodiest wars, they were highly skilled and trained. Together, they could have taken down an entire platoon of Valkyan warriors.
But they never made it back from the beach.
After the initial shock receded, and I started again to think clearly, I came to the conclusion that most likely Colonel Balakov felt responsible for their loss. After all, it was his decision to triple the patrols. He was the one who had sent six men instead of two, as is usual.
Nobody considered him guilty of anything, obviously. We all looked up at him and we all regarded his choice as the good one. A group of six soldiers was safer than only two. He had issued a correct order, having in mind only the integrity of Worldsend Garrison and its occupants.
