The Wall | Page 8

Tavarius stared into the fire, his face illumined by the yellow-orange flames, eyes deep with shadows. "Your words may well be true, young Sartas," he said gently. "Perhaps no wind speaks thus; and I'll admit the imaginings of the lonely man tend to the pleasures of the flesh more often than not."
"Then tell me what it is we've hear," said Sartas eagerly.
Tavarius turned about and looked towards the Wall. He stared at it, then lifted his gaze to the summit that seemed to merge with the sky. Only the stars distinguished stone from night.
"Perhaps," he said, "those voices belong to the mirror of ourselves. Perhaps beyond that wall there are other men like us, doing the bidding of their king. Old men, like myself, who come for coin; and young men, like you, Sartas," --and he glanced at the younger guard-- "who come out of some misguided sense of duty, honestly believing in the task they've been assigned. Perhaps these reflections of ourselves also drink watered wine and wallow half drunk in the cool shade of tents, whiling away the six months of an onerous tour. Perhaps they, too, have wives and children and homes they long for in their daily dreams. It's possible they even sit about fires, as we do, pondering voices they've heard and the senselessness of this wall that divides the here from the there."
"If what you say is true, wouldn't they have ventured over to see the truth?"
Tavarius favored him with an amused look. "Have we?" he asked.
"Perhaps it's time we did."
"That is for our King and the people to decide," said Tavarius more seriously.
"But all that you've said--"
"I come for coin, Sartas. I come because of a wife and children whom I wish to see enjoy life as life should be enjoyed. It isn't my place to answer the questions scholars have pondered for years and for which kings have had neither the courage nor the inclination to resolve for centuries."
"Aren't you even curious to know the truth?"
"The truth?" Tavarius laughed. "Does it matter what the truth is? Would any believe us if they knew it?" He shook his head. "No, it serves the purposes of all that things remain as they are. The King maintains control of the realm. The citizens remain at peace, knowing they're protected against the evil that is beyond. And we, who have walked this stone for as long as recorded time, get our coin and our glory, however undeserved."
"But what about them?" Sartas demanded, pointing down to the camp. "I've heard them, grumbling and complaining and wanting nothing more than to be done with this. And you yourself have said that few if any believe and take pride in what they do."
"But we do it, Sartas. And for all our words, we'll continue to do it. Because it's what we do. It's the purpose in our lives, however much we may wish it otherwise. Without the Wall what would we be? We were raised for this. From the time we were but boys barely able to carry a spear we've constructed our lives to serve this one thing."
"Then without the Wall we're nothing," whispered Sartas.
Tavarius nodded, grim-faced. "And they all know it too, in their hearts," he said, gesturing towards the camp. "Our world wouldn't be the same without the Wall. It has made Cysteria what it is today. Perhaps that's what it's builders intended."
"Then it's as simple as all that," said Sartas, lifting his arms wide in frustration.
"Need it be more complicated?"
"But there'll never be an end to it!"
Tavarius smiled and pushed himself erect, until he was standing looking down upon the young guard. "In the entire world I know of but two certainties, lad. One is death. The other is the Wall."
"You've given me much to think about," said Sartas.
The old guard nodded. "I leave now," he said; and he turned and went the way he'd come, guided only by the feeble starlight and the many years of walking the Wall.
Sartas watched him go with a look of longing.
******
The next day Sartas came down from the Wall. He was greeted with much cheer and plied with wine and food. Tavarius watched all this from afar, grimacing with regret.
"You look as though you've lost something," said Karn.
Tavarius regarded his friend ruefully. "Perhaps I have," he said.
"You should be joyous," insisted Karn. He clapped his friend heartily on the back. "You've saved the boy."
"Have I?" Tavarius stared up at the Wall. "He was like no other, Karn. Now he's simply one of us."
"I don't see him complaining."
But Tavarius wasn't listening. He was gathering shield and spear and packing provisions. When he was done he started out the tent, striding with a determination he hadn't felt in years.
"Where are you going?" asked Karn, confused.
"To walk the Wall," Tavarius called