The Man from Nowhere: Book 1 of The Dim Saga by Nicholas Anderson

Author:Nicholas Anderson [Anderson, Nicholas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: amnesia stories, epic battles, fantasy, adventure, religious allegories, spiritual allegories, Christ figures, sword & sorcery
Published: 2017-02-10T18:30:00+00:00

33

Back in the citadel, Captain Damascus was sitting in his office. His desk was buried in papers, his mind in thought. A familiar knock sounded at his door. “Come in, Otto,” he said without looking up.

Damascus was vaguely aware of his lieutenant, Otto Bakhar, as he stepped into the office and stood two paces from his desk. Without watching him, Damascus knew his second-in-command gave him the traditional salute. He returned it half-heartedly, from lack of energy, not respect.

“Sir, may I speak my mind?”

Damascus looked up from his desk. “You know I’ve never objected to any such thing.”

“Thank you, sir. Sir, I disagree with how you handled the incident with the thief and Jason Hanna.”

“Why so? The man who was wronged has been reimbursed more than what he lost.”

“That’s not my point, sir. Jason Hanna shows disregard for the order and authority of this office.”

“In word perhaps, but not in action.”

“Sir, if I may be so bold, in word and action he disrespected you and your office. He makes a mockery of justice and of the Guard, and today, in front of many of the lowest persons of this city, he made you look impotent. That is all, sir.”

Damascus sat silently for a moment, musing as if he had not heard Bakhar. Finally he spoke, “Why are you so stiff and formal, Otto, I told you to speak freely. I appreciate your concern for the function and authority of the Guard. I know all you want is to serve this city.” Damascus smiled weakly, almost sorrowfully, at his subordinate before continuing. “So do I. We can punish the poor for stealing, but we can hardly prevent it. Nor can we curb the forces of poverty that spur them to such desperation.

“As a young soldier, I took my turn sitting in the gatehouse, watching, as the sun set, working men squander the money they should have used to feed their families to spend fifteen minutes with girls the age of their daughters. I sat defending the city—from what? an invasion, an incursion, an attack from beyond the walls?—while it rotted from the inside out. We can’t save our city. All we’re managing against the onslaught of decay is to hold to a controlled retreat. You see, Otto, we are impotent.”

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