Reshner's Royal Ranger

by Julie C. Gilbert

  “No,” Terosh said. The fourth attacker’s escape method looked more appealing by the second.

  The man holstered his pistol and drew a kerlinblade. It flashed to life with a soft yellow glow. He opened his mouth to speak but never got the chance.

  A pebble slammed into the ground in front of the man, prompting him to move. He leapt left just in time to avoid being flattened. Cursing, he pulled his cloak’s hood tighter around his face and fled.

  REIA LANDED HARD NEXT to the attacker. She would have landed on him if he hadn’t moved with incredible reflexes. She experienced a moment of horror as she realized that anyone capable of moving that fast could surely kill her in a straight fight.

  To her surprise, the attacker hissed a curse and ran.

  Apparently, nobody wants to fight me.

  The thought was ten percent complaint and ninety percent confusion.

  A shout from Prince Terosh warned Reia in time to duck a dart.

  The new attacker, a woman, leaned heavily against the cliff face.

  “I need to speak to the prince.” The woman’s shooting arm wavered, but her eyes burned with intensity.

  “Nothing’s stopping you, but put the gun down,” Reia replied. She stepped between the prince and the dart gun.

  You make me nervous. How hard did you hit your head?

  The two women regarded each other.

  Looking past Reia, the woman set her eyes upon the prince.

  “When the time comes—”

  A strangled cry cut her off.

  Reia snapped her attention to the man who had previously been doing a very good impression of a dead guy. He staggered to his feet looking drunk. His eyes wandered then rolled back into his head so only the whites showed. His head sagged, making Reia worry it might fall off. He held a kerlinblade loosely like he didn’t know what to do with it.

  “Morgan! No! We want him alive!”

  Each of the woman’s shouts punctuated a rapid and disconcerting change within Morgan. Every muscle in the man corded, and his hands tightened around the kerlinblade. Something black washed over the whites of his eyes.

  The woman fired, and the dart struck the man’s chest. He twitched like he registered the pain but took a shaky step forward anyway.

  “Kill,” Morgan mumbled, sounding unsure of himself.

  “Morgan, what’s wrong with you?” The woman’s question was a horrified whisper. Her stunned tone and expression told Reia the voice didn’t belong to Morgan.

  “Forget Morgan. Follow orders,” spoke Morgan’s body.

  “We want them alive. We want them alive,” the woman chanted.

  Reia wholeheartedly agreed with the woman.

  Morgan’s body sagged like a malfunctioning puppet.

  “No! Friend! Kill!” His body jerked as it warred with his brain. He lifted his kerlinblade and staggered toward the female attacker.

  Great, now he’s not even making sense.

  Reia moved between Morgan and the woman, hoping she stayed out of it. Getting shot by the woman she was saving would be pathetic. Reia prayed her banistick would hold up against the kerlinblade as the first overhand blow jarred her whole body. The fight might have ended right there had the prince not fired six energy beams at Morgan.

  Three beams struck true, but the man merely staggered with the impact and laughed.

  Reia swung hard with her banistick but he backed out of reach.

  “You have no idea what I’m capable of,” he declared.

  The note of awe hit Reia.

  “Neither do you,” she said.

  “You’re obviously not Morgan, so who are you?” asked the prince.

  “I am Maledek.”

  The name meant nothing to Reia.

  “You’re far from your area of fame,” the prince commented.

  “It was time to move on. Look, I’ve learned to kill without hands. Shall I demonstrate?”

  “No!” Reia and the prince shouted together.

  Maledek laughed.

  “Any volunteers? How about the lovely young lady?”

  Reia thought he meant her until a cry from the woman behind her said otherwise. She whirled and found the woman looking stricken. Her face had drained of color, and her hands clutched at her throat.

  “Shall I strangle her, break her neck, or stop her heart?”

  Reia was speechless.

  “Stop!” Terosh exclaimed. “It gains you nothing to kill her.”

  The woman tensed then collapsed, legs folding beneath her.

  “Next,” Maledek hissed.

  Suddenly, Reia’s skin crawled with unseen things. The sensation lasted several terrifying seconds. An invisible hand gripped her throat, stopping almost as soon as it started. A chilling scream tore through her. Spinning to face the thing using Morgan’s body, she saw him cradling his hands against his chest.

  “No. No. No. Not fair!” Spittle flew from the creature’s mouth and his eyes turned white again.

  Reia’s mind swirled with questions about the man and why whatever he had done failed with her and succeeded with the other woman.

  Tears streaming down his face, the man straightened his shoulders and twisted his neck as if it needed to crack. His kerlinblade flashed up in a salute before he attacked.

  Reia blocked the first three blows, but her strength ebbed with each strike. The prince attacked the man with a series of swift strikes that forced Maledek to defend himself. Reia mostly stayed out of it, adding a strike here and there if the opportunity presented itself.

  Maledek turned his attention back to her. She blocked a high strike aimed at her neck then a low one aimed at her side. The force of the next blow almost knocked her banistick back into her right shoulder. She twisted and avoided her own weapon, but the maneuver opened her to a devastating punch to her left ribs.

  Stumbling back, she watched as Maledek attacked the prince. They exchanged several strikes before a kick sent the prince spinning toward the cliff’s edge. Maledek’s blade began following the prince. Throwing herself forward, Reia aimed a strike at the attacker’s wrist. It changed the blade’s direction so that the broad, flat edge caught the prince’s back at a glancing blow.

  Reia didn’t think the blow was hard enough to drive the prince from the cliff, but to her surprise, he leapt away. Groaning, she barreled past whatever inhabited Morgan’s body and dove off the cliff, attaching her banistick to her waist mid-flight.

  A blood-chilling scream followed her.

  JIRA (MARCH) 29, 1538

  Same Day

  Cliff above Prince Terosh’s Campsite, Riden Mountains

  As the prince and Ranger dove from the cliff, Morgan’s anotech-controlled body expired. The anotechs responded by setting off every nerve in Dalonos’s body. He screamed with rage, frustration, and pain unlike any he had ever experienced. Even his transformation from Belcross to Dalonos seemed a pleasant memory by comparison.

  When the pain finally dropped, Dalonos let Morgan’s borrowed body tumble from the cliff. It bounced off the cliff twice before catching on a branch. A crack announced the body’s victory over the branch, and both plummeted to the ground. Satisfied, Dalonos flopped onto his back and replayed the short scene with the prince and the Ranger.

  “Why couldn’t I kill the Ranger?”

  “She is protected by Linonos.” The girl’s voice sounded like wind. It took Dalonos a moment to remember the anotechs calling this form Jalna.

  “Can they be killed?”

  “The Light Ones are no stronger or weaker than us. Do you not still ache and hurt?”

  Sharp head pain followed the question. He moaned.

  “You must get better at defending yourself. It takes effort to heal you.”

  Gathering his energy, Dalonos limped away from the girl, but she followed him. The Ranger would return for her caydronan sack. Although he would love to stay and kill her, the protection of the Light Ones disturbed him.

  “Go help Lucas. He is in danger.”


  “Who?”

  The anotechs flooded his mind with information concerning Ranger Lucas Telon.

  “How will I get to him?” Dalonos challenged the crazy machines. “It’s a long way down.”

  “Jump. We will protect you.”

  The dull ache in Dalonos’s head flared to a pounding.

  I’m not a nursemaid, but fine. Show me.

  He jumped.

  Upon landing, the anotechs led him on a long trek down the mountain where he found the unconscious Ranger. The man had certainly seen better days. His shoulder was a bloody mess, and his clothes were shredded across the left arm, chest, and legs. A quick scan of the scene confirmed that the man had at least fared better than the korvers.

  “Quickly, take him.”

  Dalonos considered questioning them, but his head hurt too much already. With a weary groan, he infused the Ranger’s body with enough anotechs to stabilize it and picked him up for the long return trip. When he finally reached his campsite, Dalonos ate sixteen energy bars. They tasted awful, but he lacked the time for a luxurious meal. After following the food with an entire waterbag, Dalonos set to work on the Ranger. Under his directions, the anotechs cleaned and knit wounds together throughout the night.

  JIRA (MARCH) 29, 1538

  Same Day

  Kolknir’s Observation Post, Riden Mountains

  Kolknir had watched Lucas’s RT Alliance team clash with the prince, Reia, and a dark-clad man he didn’t recognize. From this distance, Kolknir could have shot everybody before they registered the attack, but Lady Mavis would disapprove. His mission was to eliminate Prince Taytron’s minions crawling around the Kireshana trail. He might have missed one or two, but his contract said to even the game, not condemn the prince to a premature death.

  In an uncharacteristic fit of candidness during last night’s progress report, Kolknir had confessed his frustration with the lack of clear orders. The Lady then revealed that she had not yet decided if she wanted Prince Terosh to die on the Kireshana. Kolknir’s main purpose was to prepare the way so Terosh’s death remained a viable option. He had to admire the Lady’s attention to detail. This was quite an investment of time and manpower to watch her nephew’s Kireshana. As the conversation wound down, the Lady illuminated Lucas’s status as an RT Alliance double agent working for her and suggested that Kolknir consider training the young man.

  Years ago, when Kolknir still counted the Rangers as family, Lucas had done a short stint as his apprentice. The boy had shown promise, but there was no way to determine if the intervening years had spoiled or enhanced his potential. So far, Kolknir was not impressed, but he felt a sense of kinship with the young man. As they had done with him, the Council had made Lucas a master and allowed him to operate as a Nareth Talis Ranger, but their gesture could not erase the shame of failing to bond with anotechs.

  The dark man caught Kolknir’s attention. A few adjustments of the sniper scope brought the man into focus. Pale, gaunt, and wearing a haunted expression, he looked freshly risen from a grave.

  Deciding to ask the Lady about the man, Kolknir shifted his attention back to Reia and proudly watched as she fought the reanimated body.

  “You’ve come a long way, apprentice,” he commented.

  When one of his spy cams spotted Lucas about to engage in a new battle, Kolknir diverted his attention yet again. He watched the short, brutal battle from start to finish.

  Lucas Telon started the fight with his back pressed against the cliff. A body lay sprawled across a boulder in front of him. The spy cam picked up a coughing bark. Lucas cursed and drew his banistick and kerlak pistol, fiddling with the controls.

  A single korver emerged from the cave below Lucas’s current position on the mountainside.

  The lean creature slipped forward and sniffed at the body.

  Aiming carefully, Lucas fired into the creature’s head. The beam bounced off the korver’s head as if it had struck compressed carbon plating. The creature whirled and glared at Lucas. The Ranger fired four more shots. One slipped into the korver’s left eye, eliciting an ear-piercing howl as it died.

  Angry growls came from the cave’s mouth just before korvers boiled out. They seemed like normal beasts, but they were unusually well-coordinated.

  A large korver bounded on top of the boulder where the body and the first korver lay, knocking both off. Using the boulder as a launching point, the korver leapt up and twisted in midair to face Lucas.

  Lucas fired another long stream of energy before abandoning the pistol for his banistick, a better close-quarters weapon. A sweeping slash earned him some breathing space, but the rocky mountain terrain limited the moves he could make. The korvers executed a coordinated assault, but Lucas fought with cold desperation. Kolknir could see that frustration fueled the young Ranger.

  Teeth flashed and claws tore at Lucas, but he seemed to feel no pain. Korvers bounced off his weapon left and right. One latched onto his right shoulder and bit deeply. With a cry, Lucas threw off the creature and knocked it senseless.

  A minute later, it was over. Lucas shook his head like a man awakening from an unpleasant dream. Korver bodies lay scattered about him. After surveying the damage, Lucas slumped to the ground.

  While he debated whether Lucas was worth saving, Kolknir noticed help find the young Ranger. The dark man walked upright but moved with an unnatural grace. Once sure the man meant to help Lucas, Kolknir contacted his mistress.

  “What have you to report?” the Lady asked, once the connection was secured.

  Kolknir explained the situation.

  “The prince has drawn much attention, and he will never be more vulnerable. If you wish him dead, release me to kill him,” Kolknir concluded.

  Silence answered him as the Lady considered the offer.

  “Tempting. Very tempting, but I believe my nephew will best serve me by living for now. My previous order to watch Prince Terosh stands. I will let you know if that changes.”

  “As you wish, my Lady.”

  “Have you made a decision about Ranger Telon’s worth yet?” the Lady inquired, before he could sign off.

  Instead of answering, Kolknir asked, “Who is the dark man rescuing Lucas?” He waited out the long pause.

  “He is one of my son’s experiments,” said the Lady. “He was once Dr. Atien Belcross, a scientist employed by the Royal House. I don’t know how he came to be the creature he is currently, but he came to my son wanting to become Maledek.”

  “Will he interfere?” Kolknir used the question to mask his surprise.

  “I doubt he even knows about you. You are my secret weapon.”

  “You have many secret weapons, my Lady. Me, Lucas, and others, I’m sure.” While she seemed in a sharing mood, Kolknir pressed, “What of the RT Alliance? Are they yours?”

  “They will be.” The Lady cleared her throat. “Currently, the Alliance is another of my son’s experiments, a promising one.” She let her holographic gaze bear down on Kolknir. “When the time comes to move against the Rangers, the Alliance will become the weapon that destroys them.”

  “I want to be there,” Kolknir declared.

  “That can be arranged.” The Lady’s eyes told Kolknir she understood the emotions coursing through him: pain of betrayal and lust for vengeance. “But such a moment lies far in the future. We may need the prince to reach our ultimate goals. Watch and wait. I know that is never easy, but I have different matters to attend to right now. When I decide Terosh’s fate, you will be the first to know.”

  Chapter 12:

  Healers

  JIRA (MARCH) 29, 1538

  Same Day

  Valley below Prince Terosh’s Campsite, Riden Mountains

  Reia nearly panicked as tree branches passed centimeters from her face. When training finally took over she tucked in her limbs, twisted to avoid landing on her head, and waited to meet the ground. Her feet struck first, but her landing roll did little more than make sure no bones snapped. It could do nothing for
the nauseating feeling, which said her internal organs were trying to come out her throat. For several heartbeats, her lungs refused to draw breath. Then, she gasped and tumbled three more times, expecting the crazy attacker to rain down shots.

  To her surprise, what followed wasn’t a stream of energy beams. It was a body, one that used to be Morgan. The sharp crack of a tree branch, followed closely by a solid thump, sickened her, but Reia couldn’t waste time thinking about it while the prince lay wounded.

  Struggling to her knees, she looked around and found the prince lying face up, unconscious. Breathing heavily, Reia assessed the still man. His clothes were torn across the chest and probably back. Part of his left sleeve was missing. The torn piece clung to a branch midway up the tree. Scattered, broken branches and leaves littered the ground around the prince. A swift examination revealed no broken bones, but the prince’s right shoulder had dislocated.

  Regretting the pain she would cause him, Reia used her ankle dagger to cut a small section off the bottom of her shirt. This she cleaned, wadded, and stuffed into the prince’s mouth. Then, she grabbed his shoulder and popped it back into position.

  The prince woke up long enough to scream into the makeshift gag. Before he passed out again, Reia slipped a cormea leaf into his mouth around the gag. Though it wouldn’t taste pleasant, the cormea would dull the pain.

  Suppressing a groan, she gripped the prince’s good shoulder and wrestled him into a sitting position and then onto her shoulders. Praying her adrenaline rush would hold out long enough to see them safely hidden, Reia staggered to her feet. Twice, she almost fell over, and twice, she gritted her teeth and righted her balance.

  For such a slender man your dead weight’s pretty darn heavy.

  Ordinarily, Reia would have hesitated to move a patient so soon after he’d had his shoulder popped back into place. However, extenuating circumstances dictated that she make an exception. Morgan was beyond harming them, but whatever had controlled him was probably still up there somewhere.