Camp Karash Han by Artus Braekeveldt

Author:Artus Braekeveldt [Braekeveldt, Artus]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Artus Braekeveldt
Published: 2023-06-22T22:00:00+00:00

The Grand Mask

Cyndric woke with a start as pain shot up his body.

“Good, you’re awake. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that, but we aren’t allowed to use painkillers on pressed soldiers. Cost per kaygee is too high to ship over here to Karash Han to waste on you.”

Cyndric slowly lifted his head and managed to see a lady sitting on a stool beside him. She was wearing black robes that covered everything but her two eyes. From her neck hung a large golden cross.

He looked down at himself and noticed that he was lying naked on a cot on a bed.

“I’m going to have to do it again, so you better grit your teeth. We don’t like loud noises in the Grand Mask. This is a place of silence, introspection, and prayer.”

Cyndric wondered what she was about to do, but didn’t have to ask as she lifted a thin metal shaft that was attached to a small metal barrel through a tube. Weak and helpless, Cyndric could only observe as the lady pushed the metal tube into the stab wound by his ribs and with her other hand started pumping down on a lever at the top of the metal barrel.

He felt pain as a liquid was squirted through the metal tube into his wound and bubbled and dribbled out of his wound down onto his cot. When he looked, he saw it had clearly not been the first such treatment he had received. The cot that he was lying on, which might once have been white, had turned a reddish-yellowish colour as dirty fluid dribbled out of his wound and onto it.

He felt a burning sensation inside him. He noticed that the fluids dribbling out of his wound were steaming slightly. The liquid was very hot. He let out a shout in pain.

“Shhh, be quiet. This is a holy place. There are others healing here.” The lady placed a finger on her veil where Cyndric supposed her lips were. “This is boiled holy water sourced not from the Karash Han water facilities but straight from the holy core. It has healing properties.”

“Where am I?”

“You must be a very new pressed recruit, are you not?”

Cyndric nodded.

“You are in the Grand Mask and I am a holy sister of the Mask.” She motioned to her veil covering her face. “Centuries ago, this was a place of worship for the people of the Medina. They would come to the Grand Mask and place lights upon the altar of the holy cross to bring them blessings for their onward journey to the far reaches of space.”

She pointed and Cyndric looked. He noticed that the hall was indeed very large and the decorations and paintings depicting strange scenes on the walls were fading. At the end of the hall where the sister was pointing stood a large golden cross. A donation panel stood before the cross. All but three lonely lights were off.

“Of course, when your people came, it was an end to our Medina.

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