The Forever Man: Axeman by Craig Zerf

Author:Craig Zerf [Zerf, Craig]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Small Dog Publishing
Published: 2014-06-18T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Jarvis Baker sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He had just finished his breakfast, a bowl of acorn gruel with dried fish.

He stood up and donned his stiff leather jerkin and pulled on his new riding boots, both of these items were goblin-made and courtesy of the Fair-Folk. He and three of his friends had been issued them when they had joined up with the Cornwall First Horse Regiment the week before. He tied his yellow silk scarf around his neck to complete the uniform. Red scarves donated private. Yellow were corporals and blue were sergeants. He glanced at himself in the mirror and smiled.

He was a cavalryman. And an officer. Jarvis had never excelled at school either in the classroom or on the sports field, but he had always been an adequate horse rider. Now he was in a position of power. A position of responsibility. Whilst people like Jake Pardon who had been the school rugby captain, and Mildred Stannard who had been the brightest in the school, were both fishermen and fish gutters. There would be no cushy city job for Mildred, no professional sports job for Jake.

But for Jarvis, the world was his oyster and he had already begun to dine on its heady delights.

Jarvis’s father came stomping down the stairs into the living room. He looked at the nineteen-year-old boy and sneered.

‘Off to play soldiers, boy?’

Jarvis ignored him.

‘Talking to you, boy.’

‘No you’re not, father,’ said Jarvis. ‘You’re just causing trouble. Leave it out, okay?’

‘Those things. Those pig-men and their hoity-toity masters, them ain’t your friends, boy. Trust me on this.’

‘Dad, we were starving before they came. Gangs of vagrants were roaming the land. Society was breaking down. Now we are safe. We eat. We live.’

‘Aye,’ nodded Jarvis’s father. ‘We live. As long as we behave, we live. They’re asking for female volunteers now. To clean and sew and cook for them. Servants. Servants to the hoity-toities and their pig-men.’

‘I know,’ said Jarvis. ‘I’ve told Doris to try out.’

Jarvis’s father slammed his fist down on the dining table. ‘No!’ He shouted. ‘No daughter of mine will be seen dead in that camp. Who knows what could happen. Pig-men and goblins and monsters. And the pretty masters. I don’t trust them.’

‘She’s sixteen, father. She can do what she wants.’

‘No. My house, my rules. I can’t stop you becoming a lackey to them but I can stop Doris and I will.’

Jarvis opened the front door. ‘You are pathetic, father. Pathetic.’

The young man slammed the door behind him.

The father stood still for a while and then his face crumpled in anguish. ‘Yes, my boy,’ he whispered. ‘I am pathetic. But I’m right. There is something wrong here, I just don’t know what it is.’

Outside Jarvis greeted two of his friends who had joined him for the walk to the stables. Benny and Gavin were similar to Jarvis. Less than adequate students and general all round non-achievers. Not layabouts, as such, merely incompetent. Loners through their inability to attract friends as opposed to by choice.

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