14.
Sluggish Campaign 20: Chapter 14.
Sluggish Campaign 252 AC.
The Stepstones.
Irat Rexarion.
Waking up was abrupt.
The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Rob’s dimly lit face leaning over me.
His hand had just touched my shoulder to wake me.
In the faint firelight, I could see him nervously swallow and look down.
But he didn’t dare move.
Following his gaze, I saw the cause of his unease.
Flames reflected off the polished steel of a dagger’s tip.
The dagger was clenched in my hand, pressed against Rob’s chin.
As I looked around, a small drop of blood slowly trickled down the blade.
I must have been sleeping too deeply not to realize who was waking me.
“What do you want?” I asked, annoyed, lowering the weapon.
As soon as Rob realized death had passed him by this time, he pulled back.
Pressing his hand to the small, bleeding cut, he finally allowed himself to breathe freely.
“W-watch duty,” he said, still somewhat nervous.
I slowly looked around.
The night was dark.
Starlight wasn’t enough.
I could barely make out anything beyond a few meters outside the circle of light cast by the fire burning in the center of our makeshift camp.
Around the fire, the squad members lay in various positions.
Most had made beds from their own gear.
Only Magok had chosen to sleep leaning against a rock, arms crossed, head resting on a rolled-up cloak.
Everyone looked defenseless, but the weapons lying within reach of each man said otherwise.
“Get some sleep,” I told Rob, getting to my feet.
“If I can sleep now,” he muttered, nervously wiping the blood from his wound.
I just grunted, not bothering to comment.
The dagger slipped back into its usual hiding place, while the sword remained in plain sight.
I placed the blade close to hand, ready to use it at a moment’s notice.
Watching the flames, I occasionally tossed more kindling into the fire.
Sometimes I’d get up and scan the area.
I didn’t want a repeat of the time pirates had managed to sneak up on us under cover of darkness.
We’d lost one of the new recruits then.
No one mourned him.
The boy had fallen asleep on watch, which could have cost the entire squad their lives.
Whether by luck or not, I’d woken up just as the sentry’s throat was being cut.
For the first time, I’d had to use my powers openly.
All for one purpose: to survive.
That unfortunate incident had happened at the very beginning of our campaign against the pirates.
Six months had passed since then.
Quite a lot had happened in that time.
It started with me having to reveal myself to my men.
I wouldn’t have been able to hide my abilities for long during constant skirmishes with the pirates.
The fighters had already started asking questions, as Ross told me.
The big man found himself between a rock and a hard place.
On one side, his old comrades were asking uncomfortable questions about their commander, reasoning that as the man closest to me, he could answer at least some of them.
On the other side was me, his commander and lord, to whom he’d sworn not to reveal anything related to me.
For a while, I watched Ross’s agony with amusement, until I decided to take pity on him and tell them everything myself.
To my surprise, everyone took the information almost calmly.
I could only sense a faint undercurrent of excitement.
According to Ross, who later volunteered to explain the reason for such a reaction, they saw me as some kind of hope.
Only a couple of the new recruits, Ammis and Dhaaris, stood out.
They weren’t in the circle of those I could trust with such information.
So the newbies just looked back and forth between me and their senior comrades, before giving up trying to understand what was going on.
Of the remaining events, the only one worth mentioning was the full-blown war with the pirates.
A war that unfolded with mixed success.
We’d capture one island and move on to the next, only for it to fall back into the hands of these sea raiders a few days later.
That wasn’t surprising, given that after driving out the pirates, we left them a practically defenseless island.
We were short on men.
Our allies, the pirates under the command of that bitch, the Old Mother, preferred to let others do the fighting.
They certainly weren’t going to risk their lives defending captured islands.
This situation infuriated many of us.
It was only a matter of time before the discontent peaked and we attacked these so-called allies ourselves.
The only things keeping things afloat were the captain’s orders and the fact that “our” pirates helped with transport between islands and provided naval protection.
The few successes worth mentioning in this campaign were the large islands of the Stepstones under our full control: Hangman’s Stone and Bloodstone.
Although capturing Bloodstone brought its own headaches.
We had to spread our forces thin to keep the pirates from retaking the islands.
There was another problem as well.
According to Astaar, who’d shared the latest news, our close proximity to Westeros had made the lords of the Seven Kingdoms nervous.
Further advance could provoke an immediate response.
What saved us was the strange inaction of the Targaryens.
“Damn traitors,” I spat quietly.
Thoughts of the current rulers of the Seven Kingdoms inevitably ruined my already gloomy mood.
Just like every time I thought about Valyria and everything connected to it.
I felt drawn to it.
To the cradle of my bloodline.
To where it all began.
To a place buried under thick layers of ash and unhardened lava.
Ancient Valyria called to me.
“And I’m stuck on a rock in the middle of the Narrow Sea, fighting for someone else’s interests,” I thought with annoyance.
Luckily, this call had only appeared recently and was barely perceptible.
It wasn’t getting stronger yet.
But I felt that sooner or later, the day would come when I could no longer bear it, and I’d have to give in.
I could only hope that day wasn’t soon, and that by then I’d have gathered enough strength to survive in such a harsh place as my homeland had become.
Suddenly, a sharp noise, like a stone striking another, snapped me out of my reverie.
It seemed my watch was going to be eventful.
I’d been hoping for a quiet night after a hard day spent crossing from a captured island to this nameless rock.
I couldn’t bring myself to call this tiny patch of land anything else.
Nevertheless, our unit had landed on this islet to systematically clear it of pirate scum.
Looking at my exhausted subordinates, I caught the eyes of Ross and Jon, lying facing the fire, watching me intently as they slowly reached for their weapons.
Magok, without opening his eyes, lowered his arms and placed them on the bow lying beside him.
Smiling, I shook my head almost imperceptibly, signaling: “I’ll handle this.” The mercenaries closed their eyes again and relaxed.
But they didn’t move their hands from their weapons.
I should have been offended by such distrust, but that could wait.
Trying not to show it, I stretched, cracking my stiff joints.
Getting up and feigning sleepiness, I decided to move away from the fire.
My apparent carelessness was meant to make me a target for the first attack, and leaving my sword behind would dull their sense of danger.
To the pirates, I must have looked like a stupid kid walking right into their hands.
Moving far enough from the camp that the firelight no longer blinded me, I loosened my belt.
Pretending to relieve myself, I scanned the darkness, letting my eyes adjust.
Gradually, I began to notice shadows flitting between the rocks, drawing closer.
A bloodthirsty grin spread across my face.
I had to lower my head so the enemy wouldn’t suspect anything if they could see my expression in the dark.
I spread a gravitational field with a diameter of about twenty meters around me, slightly increasing the gravity.
Then I waited.
Like a spider waiting for flies to fall into its web.
Soon, I felt the first victim enter my field, not even noticing anything unusual.
The increase in gravity was so slight.
Gradually, several more targets entered the field, but they didn’t come closer.
“How cautious,” I thought with an inner smirk.
Realizing it was pointless to wait for them all to enter the field, I sharply increased the pressure many times over.
The pirates collapsed under the gravitational press.
The pressure was strong enough to instantly drive several strong men into the ground.
Increasing the gravity a little more, I heard the crunch of breaking bones and tearing flesh.
The few rocks that fell within the affected area cracked, which in itself spoke of the force the pirates had to withstand.
It ended as abruptly as it had begun.
As soon as I released the gravity, I felt the familiar, welcome surge of strength.
My smile widened with the rush of sensation, but I had to push the pleasant feeling aside.
The job wasn’t done yet.
Tying my pants, I drew my favorite dagger from its hiding place.
Whistling a simple tune, I walked casually toward a large boulder.
Approaching it, I jumped up with ease.
When you can control gravity, high jumps aren’t anything special.
Crouching on top of the rock, I looked down.
Behind it, a skinny-looking kid sat trembling with fear.
It seemed like he was even trying to hold his breath.
Unfortunately for him, it was all in vain.
“See,” I began quietly, still watching the pirate from my perch.
“I really don’t like it when people wake me and my men.” Hearing my voice, the kid jerked his head up and met my gaze.
The next moment, he recoiled from the boulder in terror and tried to run.
Futile.
It’s hard to run when you can barely move your legs from the weight pressing down on you.
“Gravity is such a convenient power,” I muttered almost inaudibly, jumping down from the rock.
Over the six months of constant skirmishes with the pirates, my powers had grown exponentially.
Which wasn’t surprising, given the number of potential victims.
Victims who came to me so I could become stronger.
But strength wasn’t the only thing that mattered.
My control was also growing, allowing me to perform increasingly incredible feats with my abilities.
At one point, I could even feel the force of gravity in living bodies.
Too bad such microscopic and multifaceted manipulations were beyond my current level.
Approaching the pirate sprawled on the ground, who’d soiled his pants from fear, I planted one foot on his back.
Pressing the dagger to his throat, I leaned down to his ear.
“Blame fate that you crossed my path,” I said, slitting the boy’s throat.
— *** “Do you ever get tired of all this yourself?” I asked, standing on the deck.
Waves splashed overboard, breaking against the ship’s hull.
The vessel was heading for the next island we were supposed to liberate from the pirates.
At least temporarily.
“What are you talking about?” Astaar asked, distracted from giving orders.
Another decanus, whose name I didn’t know, hurried away.
Only managing to throw an envious glance my way before leaving.
Such reactions had become familiar lately.
No wonder, since both the sergeant and the captain had started singling me out.
Too obviously.
This attitude kept me at a distance from the rest of the company and was a source of envy for many.
While they carried out orders from higher command, I had the privilege of speaking with Astaar as an equal.
As for tasks, my squad was usually left to its own devices.
On the other hand, I couldn’t care less what others thought of me.
If I was given such freedom to act, I wasn’t about to refuse it.
“I’m talking about this bouncing between islands,” I said, returning to the conversation.
“Every piece of land we capture sooner or later falls back under pirate control.
Then we have to drive them out again.
We’re doing double, sometimes triple the work.
But our ranks aren’t infinite.
We’re taking losses.” Astaar was silent, thoughtfully looking at me.
“How long will this go on?” I asked, prompting the sergeant.
“You know how to ask uncomfortable questions,” he muttered, scratching his head.
Suddenly, he looked around, as if searching for eavesdroppers.
Then he came closer and began speaking.
Quietly, confidentially.
“The captain has a plan,” he whispered.
“I won’t go into details now.
But everything we’re doing is part of the plan.
As for casualties…
I can say that our unit has practically none.” The sergeant paused, looking around again.
“Araino tries to send us where the pirates offer the least resistance,” he continued.
“All we have to do is wait and trust the captain’s choices.” He said it as if it were so simple to just trust someone.
I had to grit my teeth and swallow the opinion about trust that was trying to burst out.
I’d learned in life that you can only truly trust yourself.
“What’s all this for?” I asked another question that interested me.
“What’s the captain trying to achieve?” “Too long to explain,” the sergeant waved me off.
“I can only say that he wants to minimize our losses.
And that others suffer because of it, doesn’t bother me.
Or you?” I gave him a skeptical look.
Did he seriously think I cared?
I could only regret that I hadn’t killed them all myself.
Such waste.
“And anyway, what’s your problem?” Astaar asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You get to slaughter pirates without much effort.
Beautiful.” The Joker kept looking at me, waiting for an answer.
“I’m bored,” I sighed, making the sergeant laugh.