Chapter Four - THE FRIEND

You must forgive me for my narration is not eloquent. No doubt you also think I am embellishing certain aspects of my story. I cannot help that – I can only talk as I remember these incidents. Maybe some of the knowledge is gone from my mind and I am remembering things as I would wish them to be remembered. Perhaps some of my experiences have not been explained well enough for you to understand what I have seen and done. I do not expect understanding. I am the narrator in this and it would be false of me to attempt to sway you with facts that you cannot prove to be true. I, on the other hand, must be careful with my claims for if one is proved false then what else will you think of my story? All I wish is attention for I have a need to tell this tale.

It is strange how a being can wish fervently for something not to happen and when he is finally committed to that fate he wished to avoid he acts as though he has been betrayed by higher powers. Why feel so betrayed when what does happen, happens? If a man had not expected the fate he has to endure then surely he has a well-deserved reason to be hateful. A man who worries about an aspect of his future should take more care when spitting at the creators of fate. He knows that that particular thread of life is a possibility – surely he then has a time to prepare, if not to change that fate then face it with emotional strength?

This is how I see myself at this moment, as we are taken from the cell and back toward the mobile energy cage that has been our home. I knew, if not with such clarity at first, that my decision to become a slave to secure my sister’s future, punish my actions in the army and take away the need to decide my own fate would bring such trials. How I despised the Gods after seeing Anto within the house grounds! But I hold my anger, now – this is not the Gods doing but my own and I can do nought but accept whatever happens after this moment.

Maybe I should be glad that we are finally leaving the trainers home the following morning but I am not, for the cohort of legionnaires are accompanying us on our road to the capital city. Maru was overjoyed at an officer’s offer of sharing the route, maybe the thought of entering the gates surrounded by soldiers appealed to him, but I knew he would be in for a disappointment. No group of soldiers could enter the capital city, no matter if they are a legion or a cohort or Prime Warriors. It is one of the mother city’s most sacred laws. Maru would have to leave his escort beyond the walls and enter as he had always done, as a slaver with two repulsorwagons and several attendants.

And, this time, with a cripple and a simpleton as his best offer to the markets.

I try my best to hide my face and my stump. As the leg binders are removed I wish for the man taking them away to hurry for I see Anto approaching the slave master and I want so desperately to hide in the comparative shade of the cart. The darkness of the cart is increased by the heavy shade of the fighter-training cage we are next to and it should hide me well.

   “I understand you have accepted my offer?” Anto says to my owner, his voice as deep and rich as I remember. I will the chains to fall off so that I may scramble into the cart.

   “And most gracious it is, noble Commander,” Maru replies, his voice dripping with honey.

   “You will keep up I trust? My men are required to march a long way each day and I do not want your riddabeasts or attendants to suffer.”

   “If necessary, Commander, I will have my slaves push the speeders themselves.”

Anto laughs. He sounds relaxed and happier than I remember him. Maybe he is looking forward to returning to the city of his birth. He talked of it many times to me whilst he helped me back to a satisfactory health.

   “What are you carrying other than slaves?” Anto continues. Please, my friend! Talk no more! Take your position at the head of your men and call the march! I cast a quick glance and see three other Commanders by their mounts, outside the gate with the cohort, obviously waiting on Anto, and it strikes me as queer that there is not a higher ranking officer with them It appears to be simply four Commanders and no Officer Overlord. What had happened to our glorious army?

Now Maru is showing Anto through other items on his repulsorwagon, and their talk turns to gifts for the Commander’s friends in the capital city. I am in the vehicle, now, and the simpleton is having his own chains removed. He giggles as the man removing the chains brushes his leg with his hand and he looks at me with a strange smile and half-closed eyes. I smile back. I am in the repulsorwagon, the half-dark is hiding my features and I tuck my arm into my clothing. Anto will not be interested in slaves, surely, and I begin to relax.

Then I hear a start from the slave master’s wagon. “What is this?” Anto cries, and he pulls something from the wagon. I turn, keeping my head as covered as possible by lowering it behind my upraised shoulder, to see what has angered him.

From out of the wagon he has pulled a cloth, which had been covering my armour and my vibrosword! He wrenches the cloth away and stares with wide, disbelieving eyes at the items in his hands. With a swift motion he draws the weapon from its scabbard and holds it up to inspect it.

   “A legionary’s belongings!” Anto shouts before the Twi’lek slave master has a chance to explain. “Where did you get this?”

Maru is stammering. His tradesman nature has deserted him and his speaking abilities appear to have done the same. He holds up his hands defensively.

   “Did you steal these?” Anto roars. My owner visibly wilts in front of the gleaming man before him and almost collapses to the ground.

   “No, my lord, no!” he finally cries in dismay. “They were the belongings of a soldier who has come into my possession! I bought him to the trainer for instruction, but...”

Anto has turned with disgust. He starts to stalk to the fighter compound; his raised voice has obviously caused some alarm in the place for the fighters-in-training have stopped their practice to watch the Commander march the short distance towards them.

   “My lord, you do not understand, the soldier came willingly!” Maru cries as he runs after him. I wonder whether Anto realises that the slave master never actually sold the owner of those belongings to the trainer and I am worried that the slave master may be accused of something that is my fault.

I climb from the repuslorwagon, unopposed by the guards who are watching the Commander head to the cages, and wonder what I am to do. Maru, maybe afraid of his reputation, maybe afraid of his life, starts to babble again but Anto silences him. “Quiet!”

I am perplexed, now. Anto has ordered the energy gate to the training compound be powered down so that he can find this soldier whose items he carries and I decide I cannot allow this to continue.

   “Anto!” I cry. The Commander turns, half-in and half-out of the cage, and scans the people about him to identify the caller. I stand there, my belly shaking with nervous anticipation, and his eyes finally rest on mine.

As he does so my heart wilts as recognition, shock, then pain crosses his face. Has he remembered my vow? Does he think me a criminal, or an enemy of the Ki-Ki? Oh, my friend, to hear your very thoughts at this moment.

There is a man behind the Commander. It takes me a second to recognise him – it is the bearded man from the repulsorwagon. He and several others have suddenly lunged forward towards the open gate. Before I can call out the bearded man has grabbed Anto’s vibrosword and has roughly pushed him from the gate.

   “I will not die for you!” he cries, raising the vibrosword over his head and bringing it down on the Commander. His blow is weak and the helm takes the impact but Anto is momentarily stunned.

I talk of the pain of fate. I talk of preparing for it. I had, in the time between seeing Anto arrive at the house and this moment, realised there was a chance of being seen by him. I had accepted that, should it happen.

But I had not anticipated this. The bearded man, now armed and obviously desperate for his life, has called out for his fellow trainees to follow him. None do. Only those that were with us in the speeder decide to follow the rallying cry and spill from the gate with him.

With a final decision comes clarity of perception. When you have succumbed to the fate you have created or been forced into then you live in that moment, knowing that now you are here you are required to act to change that fate or live with it.

So I acted.

With a cry, the meaning of which I do not remember, I grab the vibrosword of the guard next to me which still rests in his scabbard and draw it. I am not bound, now, and I leap forward.

The first victim of my savage attack is one of the men from the wagon who turns and, with a blunt sword he had been using in combat, tries to defend himself. I hack him down easily, feinting to my left and drawing his defence the wrong way, my sword then piercing his side and slicing away flesh.

The second is an older man with more experience and he tries to defend with a small round metal shield. But my anger, my rage, my passion has overtaken my tactics and I bring down the sword onto the shield with such force it splinters and breaks apart. The blade continues down between the fingers and cuts down the length of the forearm, like a man chopping cylinders of wood. I pull the blade back and stab him in the throat.

No guard has moved.

The third falls for he is poorly armed. A club is all he can muster and he is easily despatched. I leave him screaming in the sand, trying to hold what is left of his face together.

Forgive me. I only tell this as I remember it.

Still no guard has moved to defend the Commander or stop the fight.

The fourth is the bearded man. He has a look of terror on his face as I, a man with one arm, the cripple he has taunted, approaches with intent. He has Anto’s vibrosword in his hand and is backing away, holding the blade up with some skill but little discipline. I care not for any skill he has. I know he will die this day, and I know it will be I that will kill him.

He takes the initiative and lunges at me in a stabbing motion, what the vibrosword is best used for, but I knock the attack away. He tries to circle around to my left, hoping that my lack of limb will gain him some advantage, and I circle also.

I see now why no guard has intervened. The trainer, hurrying over to see for himself the reason for the Commander’s anger, had held up a hand and was watching us expectantly. Anto was on his feet, now, and watched also. Legionaries had run in through the gate at the behest of the other Commanders but Anto held up a hand and made them stay back.

The bearded man lunges again, swiping at me with a wide arc, trying to slice me with the point of the weapon. I bring up my sword and deflect it easily.

Men have circled us, now, guards with energy shields and blasters, like a rough arena. But there are no cries of joy, of encouragement, of pleasure at the combat. There is only grim, patient expectation.

The battle is over before I realise what is happening. With a cry of rage, maybe he meant to unnerve me, the bearded man rushes forward. With a quick side-step I drop under his attack and allow the blade to slice air above my head, then lunge up and pierce his chest with the sword. It does not go in far but the blood flows liberally and he balks, dropping to his knees and the losing his grip on the stolen vibrosword. Knowing that I cannot transfer the sword to my other hand I spin it by the hilt so that the blade points down in my grip, like an oversized dagger, and I savagely thrust it into his back. With a groan he falls forward and I wrench the blade free, crimson liquid splashing up my arm and leg. The blood pumps for a short while and then ceases as the man dies.

All is quiet but for the murmur of the wind and the crying of animals in the pens next to the house.

I did not attack the men to defend my friend, that much is clear to me. I did not do it out of some sense of justice, to stop these men as they tried to escape their fate.

All this is clear to me. I did this because I simply did not care.

I have seen men weep after battle. I have seen them pray to the Gods to convey their thanks and I have seen them stagger, not fully comprehending what they have done. I have seen them smile and laugh at their victory. With extreme effort I kept my face impassive. I did not allow a single emotion to cross my face and then I scanned the amassed as if looking for my next victim.

   “He has died, also,” I hear someone whisper but I do not know who it is who speaks.

Then the trainer says, “I will give you...”

   “He is not for sale,” Maru says breathlessly as he watches the blood drip from my sword.

Anto is staring at me and I cannot read his face. He appears vexed but also saddened. It is a strange expression, and I drop the sword to the ground.

   “You have my thanks, slave,” Anto says with a level voice. He walks over to where his vibrosword has fallen and retrieves it, placing it back into his scabbard. Before I can answer and before he can say more the trainer’s voice cuts through the silence.

   “I paid good credits for those men, Maru, and now your cripple kills them! I demand compensation! What are you...?”

   “He will pay nothing for your loss,” Anto says simply. His eyes snap away from mine and towards Monima.

   “But, my lord...” the trainer starts o protest.

   “You have your men stand back so that you can see how the fight progresses, leaving a Commander of the Ki-Ki in the middle of the fight?” Anto roars. “You are fortunate I do not nail you to a board for your impudence! There will be no compensation, and that will be the charge for your decision!”

   “My lord, you have graced my house with your presence, but...”

   “Do not make me have my men torch this house, trainer. I will have things to say of you when I reach the capital city.”

Monima glares at the Commander, his defiance still evident, and then he turns on Maru. “Do not think I will forget this, slaver,” he snarls, and then walks with an angry gait back towards his house.

Hands grab me and I am roughly taken back to the repulsorwagon. Anto watches me go, watches as I am placed in leg binders even though I am to be confined to the energy cage, but does not say anything. Now his expression is one of anger.

I do not blame him. I wonder if he wishes to speak to me but he cannot in front of his fellow Commanders and his men. He is probably trying to fathom my reasons for being here, and no doubt the slaver will tell him some of the reason with what he knows, and I long to explain it to him myself.

As the energy cage is locked and activated the slave master walks over, the delight on his face is evident. “What a wonderful fighter you are! How wonderful you may have been with two arms. I know what you will be for me, cripple. I have made an enemy of Monima and I will, no doubt, require protection. What say you? We will reach the capital city, dispense with this simpleton, and then see about having you become my bodyguard, yes? Why, one of you is far more attractive than three of my worthless guards! With a little imagination...”

   “I accept,” I say, obviously angering Maru with my interruption but caring little for it, “but I wish for the simpleton to stay with me. What could you get for him at the market, anyway?”

   “But the cost of feeding him, clothing him. No, I will not haggle with a slave.”

   “I will share whatever you give me with him.”

   “You are in no position to bargain with me, slave...”

   “What would you rather have? A loyal bodyguard or an angry slave?”

Maybe I was too abrupt, too forward, and this I blame on the feeling that had still not left me after the killing of the trainee fighters. I cannot understand the feeling – has the victory gone to my head, or do I still not care? For my arrogance I deserved a flogging, at the very least.

But the slave master simply glared at me. “Very well, half-soldier. The simpleton is your responsibility. If he becomes a burden then you will have to carry him!” With that he walks from the cart.

I cannot see Anto. He has rejoined his men and I wonder whether he will try to talk to me. Once again, I wish so, and I know that if he doesn’t I will be distraught, angry at the fact that I was not able to explain to him my reasons for being here.

The simpleton touches me lightly on the shoulder as the cart moves off and I turn far too quickly for he shrinks back away from my stare. I relax and smile, a small smile that I do not feel and find difficult to manage.

   “Y’kill,” he says in a small voice.

   “Yes,” I say. I cannot explain myself to him for he would not understand.

   “No nice,” he says, not in an angry tone but a sad one. “N’lik fernd kill.”

I shake my head and then lean forward. “I’m sorry,” I say, but I know that I am not. I do not wish to upset the simpleton, who I have not yet thought of a name for.

He crawls forward and puts his head to my chest as a loving child would do to a parent. He is trembling slightly and it is then that I feel for him. He is afraid, alone with a man whom he hardly knows, and if he does think as a child then he has just seen a friend slaughter four men with no feeling. He is not judging me, he is simply afraid for the stability of his world and for that I cannot blame him. I do not pity him. In a strange way, we are alike.

He is heavy but I do not mind. I stroke his hair as if he is my son and stare out between the bars, watching my twisted world go by.