The Redemption of Desmeres

by Joseph R. Lallo

  “You had to take your bloody time, didn’t you?” She turned and opened the hatch to the bed of the cart to be sure that everything was secure. “Well, you made it clear, if something happens, I’m to leave you behind.”

  She made ready to snap the reins, but stopped.

  “Wait… what am I going to achieve by running? These are the Elite. If they want to catch me they will catch me. I certainly hope he doesn’t expect me to fight them, because I am a loyal subject of Queen Caya and I simply will not disrespect her soldiers.”

  Dowser wiggled and tried to squirm free, whimpering.

  “Oh, be quiet, you,” Genara said. “We’ll cooperate. These are still our soldiers. If we cooperate there will be nothing to worry about. And even if Desmeres seems a fool, he’s a fool who has gotten himself out of tighter spots than we’ve ever been in, so we’ve got to assume he’s got some insight into what it takes to survive. So … Listen to me. He’s got me talking to you now… He’d better show up soon…”

  She heard a distant thump and a breath of wind burst from within the tunnel. There was no telling what it was, but she knew it couldn’t be any good for Desmeres. Suddenly the approaching soldiers didn’t matter to her at all. The potential fate of the man who had minutes ago disappeared into the tunnel for the last time and not returned was all she could think about.

  “You there! Stay where you are!” bellowed a voice that Genera, to her chagrin, recognized.

  “Naturally it would be the commander himself. The one Elite who knows my name and face and knows I’ve had dealings with Desmeres.” She clenched her fists. “This was your decision, Genara. You can’t say you hadn’t expected it.”

  Two soldiers thundered along and took up positions around the cart. Commander Anrack eased his horse to a stop beside her, looking down from his place in the saddle as she pulled back her hood to return his gaze. The look of recognition was immediate.

  “You are the woman from the brothel,” he said.

  “I am pleased and honored that you remember me, Commander.”

  “What are you doing so far from your place of business, in the middle of a treacherous field.”

  “I’ve made a series of rather poor decisions lately,” she replied.

  “Step down.”

  “Yes, Commander. And what shall I do with the puppy?”

  He glanced disdainfully down at the animal between her feet.

  “Dowser can be a handful if he’s left to his own devices,” she explained.

  “Then gather him up and keep him in hand. But be quick about it.”

  She obliged him, picking up the increasingly squirmy pup.

  “We are going to search your cart,” Anrack said.

  “I am sorry, Commander, but it isn’t my cart to give you permission to search.”

  “I did not request permission,” Anrack said.

  He dismounted his steed and directed the other man to do the same

  “Commander, I cannot say for certain if you can safely search this cart.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because this is Desmeres Lumineblade’s cart.”

  “Of course it is. And we are familiar with his treachery.”

  “As you say, Commander. I only wished to be careful to give you proper warning.”

  “Do not attempt to ingratiate yourself to me, woman. There is no denying that you’ve allied yourself with an enemy of the Elite.” He turned to his man. "You, search the cart.”

  His subordinate, with marked reluctance, cut through the rope securing the canvas and began gingerly picking through the cargo. Reasoning the books were what Desmeres cared about most, Genara had placed them nearest to the seat of the cart. This left sacks of deeds, bundles of weapons, and chests of potions as the first items the soldiers discovered. Genara realized as more and more of the weapons of war were uncovered that it was admittedly quite an incriminating bit of cargo.

  “Weapons. Gold and silver. Precisely what we were told we would find within the storehouse. He is clearing it out.” He turned and peered into the opening of the tunnel. “And precisely through the means I suspected, a second entrance. Did he send you, or is Desmeres here as well?”

  “He is inside the storehouse,” Genara said.

  Anrack turned to his subordinate. “We have Desmeres trapped. Climb to the top of the bluff and blow the horn. Be sure that the four reinforcements find us here quickly.”

  “That will leave you without support, Commander.”

  “I can handle the woman. Our target is as good as captured. I will not allow him to slip through my fingers now simply because my reinforcements couldn’t find their way to me. Go.”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  The soldier hastily did as he was told, climbing the short distance to flag down the others. Anrack limped to the rear of the cart, his cane sinking into the snow as he went.

  “What is your full name?” he said.

  “Genara Copperwright.”

  “Miss Copperwright, I want you to tell me precisely what Desmeres has planned.”

  “I am not entirely certain of the details, but there is something I’m quite certain you would be interested in.”

  He rummaged through one of the sacks. “Speak.”

  She stepped closer. “This may be difficult to believe, Commander, but Desmeres is on a mission of divine importance.”

  “Upon what do you base this claim?”

  “He and I were contacted by a man who knew things he couldn’t know. He claimed to be an emissary of fate, and according to Desmeres he reveals himself only in times of great importance. Evidently he last revealed himself to the Guardians of the Realm themselves.”

  “Desmeres made this claim?”

  “The Duke and Duchess of Kenvard said something like it as well. I don’t recall the details, but I’m sure if you were to ask them they could provide—”

  “I will not trouble the Duke and Duchess with such spurious claims.”

  “Commander, I assure you, I am telling the truth.”

  He set a jingling bag down on the snow and stiffly crouched beside it to get a better look at its contents. “Do you have any proof?”

  “Of what?”

  “Of anything you’ve claimed. Of the truth of this emissary’s identity. Of the truth of his supposed quest. Any proof at all.”

  “The man—Oriech, I believe he was called—knew of things I’d never told anyone.”

  “A worthless claim that itself cannot be proved. What are these bottles?”

  “I don’t know. But I know I was to be careful with them, and knowing Desmeres, they are quite dangerous. Commander, surely you must at least entertain the—”

  “I must entertain nothing. I have my orders, and I shall follow them. If Desmeres has some higher purpose, he shall return to it when and if the Queen deems him absolved of his crimes. And unless you can make yourself useful to me, I can foresee very little that will stay the hand of the executioner.”

  “The executioner? You don’t mean to suggest that I might be put to death…”

  “Lumineblade is a traitor to the throne. That is an act punishable by death, and owing to the threat it poses to the safety of the kingdom we serve, one that it is within the authority of the Elite to carry out in the field if we deem it necessary. You are plainly aiding him, and thus equally guilty.”

  “But all you know is that I’ve encountered him twice! You haven’t even seen us together! For all you know he’s kidnapped me or he’s forcing me to do something against my will.”

  “None of that matters. I am dedicated to completing my assignment and ensuring the safety of this kingdom. If acting upon my unproven intuition is necessary to do so, then I shall act without hesitation.”

  “And if your intuition turns out to be wrong?”

  “Innocent blood is sometimes shed in the pursuit of a necessary victory. In the pursuit of a man willing to do this to an Elite to merely escape—” He indicated his scars. “—certain unsavo
ry means are sometimes necessary. Once again, it would behoove you to make yourself useful.”

  She gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes. Genara, like most denizens of the north, had always had a genuine reverence for the Alliance Army and the Elite in particular. Commander Anrack was working quite efficiently to cure her of that.

  “What would you have me do?”

  “Whatever I ask, immediately. For now, silence.”

  Genara watched as he turned back to the cart and loosened the ties to a bundle to unroll it. His eyes sparkled at the assortment of weapons contained within. He plucked a sword in its scabbard and slipped it free.

  “Remarkable… I wouldn’t have believed a weapon so fine could be so light.”

  He strapped the sword to his belt and continued to paw through the assortment available. Each blade received the same careful consideration. He held them up to the light and tested their balance. It was chilling to Genara how thoroughly invested in the task of comparing the weapons he became. This was a man who at this very moment was waiting to corner and capture what he at least seemed to believe was a dangerous criminal. It was a man who had threatened without an ounce of mercy or empathy to have Genara killed if she did not obey his every whim. And yet in this moment a bundle of weapons seemed more important to him than any of it. He likely could have spent hours poring over the assortment, but Dowser of all things distracted him.

  The puppy, who had been difficult enough to keep quite simply because Desmeres was not present, wriggled and barked a bit more with each weapon revealed.

  “Would you get that animal under control?”

  “I’m sorry, but he’s still being trained. He seems to like shiny things.”

  “I didn’t ask for excuses. Silence it.”

  “With all due respect, Commander, you may have greater concerns than the dog.”

  She gestured with her head. Anrack turned and scowled further. Not just some, but all of the Elites seemed to be heading toward them.

  “The idiots cannot follow the simplest of orders… There had better be an excellent excuse for this.”

  The remainder of his force, dragging their precious smoking boughs and nursing recent burns, told the tail of their application of the magic, the burst of flame, and the eventual loss of both a fellow soldier and the entirety of the storehouse. Anrack’s fury grew with every word. When they were through, he silently indicated the mouth of the tunnel and drew his weapon.

  “We stand our ground here. No one enters. Desmeres is too dangerous to be met on his own terms.

  For a few moments, Genara, Anrack, and the Elite stood at the mouth of the tunnel and waited. A dozen horses huffed their breath. Armor jingled. Wind wailed. And yet amid the din, Genara couldn’t help but feel the terrible weight of silence.

  Dowser was the first to react. He squirmed and howled, desperate to be let down. Anrack glanced at the puppy, then motioned to his men. One by one they drew their weapons and formed a half-circle around the mouth of the tunnel.

  “Desmeres Lumineblade,” he bellowed. “We know you are there. We know you have murdered one of my men, and in doing so have trapped yourself within that tunnel. You face eleven Elites and their commander. We have your cart. We have your cargo. We have your woman.”

  “I’m not his woman,” Genara snapped.

  He silenced her with a hard look, then turned back to the tunnel. “Your only chance to survive is to come quietly and without further resistance.”

  The answer came after a long pause.

  “Commander Anrack…” Desmeres called, his voice echoing from within. “I may have underestimated you.”

  “A mistake few would live to regret, and one you are long past due to admit to.”

  “Do not mistake me, Anrack. It isn’t a compliment. I thought even you would not be so foolish as to utilize D’Karon magic.”

  “You made it necessary, Lumineblade.”

  “Do I have your word if I step into the light, I will be treated as a prisoner rather than an enemy?”

  “That would depend entirely upon your willingness to behave as such.”

  “I am not certain I could behave otherwise.”

  Desmeres approached, his form slowly resolving from the darkness. Far from the cocky swagger that normally carried him, his gait was labored and irregular. When he emerged into the light, the toll of his battle and journey became clear. The legs of his trousers were shredded and wet with blood. He held his sword in a white knuckled grip in one hand. The other, despite an obvious ordeal, still held tight to the bundle of books.

  “What happened?” Genara said with a gasp.

  “Some oversights left me at the mercy of the oloes. It did not go as well as I would have liked. Weren’t you to leave if there was any risk of capture?”

  “I decided getting caught a few dozen paces in that direction wasn’t worth the effort,” Genara said.

  “You will address me and only me, Lumineblade,” Anrack barked. “Now drop your weapon.”

  Desmeres glanced to the man’s belt. “I shall drop my weapon when you drop my weapon, Commander.”

  Anrack motioned to the men on either side. Four moved in to wrench the sword and books away from him.

  “Open the canvas and show me its contents,” the commander said.

  They obeyed, tossing down the tied canvas and pulling it open to reveal the ancient books. Anrack knelt down and pushed them about, clearly hoping to unearth something more sinister.

  “Books. And more of them loading down your cart. You risked your life and freedom for ledgers?”

  “There’s nothing more powerful than a book, and ledgers are among the most powerful. You are a commander, Anrack. You ought to know that. How many pages of soldiers' names have you read? Those heading to the front? Those failing to return from it?”

  “You will answer questions, not ask them.” He glanced to the men holding Desmeres. “The two of you, load his books. This man is a scoundrel, but he would not waste his time on something that was not worth the effort.”

  “How kind of you,” Desmeres said. “I don’t suppose you could do me the kindness of having one of your men bandage my legs. As I recall, that is what a properly trained member of the Alliance Army—”

  “Do not tell me what a proper soldier does!” he snapped. “You will be treated when I am satisfied you are willing to cooperate fully, and you’ve done little to convince me of that. … Now, before we go any further… There are claims of a place called Entwell. A place of great warriors and wizards. Trainers of Stealth, a Master Weste…”

  Desmeres raised an eyebrow. “Well, well. You have been reading some interesting books, haven’t you?”

  “Answer me!”

  “Of course such a place exists.”

  “Did you come from that place?”

  “I did.”

  “And is that where you learned to make weapons like this?”

  He directed soldiers to select one of the sacks to set down on the snow.

  “These blade on my belt, and these potions in this sack, are these the products of this Entwell place?”

  “Entwell planted the seed and nurtured the seedling. It was my own ambition that coaxed it to full bloom.”

  “And could you find your way back to that place?”

  “You would do better to ask Myranda or Deacon.”

  “I am asking you, and if you value your life, you will answer me.”

  “If I were you, Commander, I would try to decide upon tactics and goals before going any further.” He wavered, his legs unwilling to support him for much longer. “It is my understanding I am to be captured alive. Threatening to kill me if I do not comply is a mixed message. It is at worst a toothless threat, and at best insubordination. I’m a rather useful man while breathing. As a corpse, I would be quite conventional.”

  A tremor of anger shook Anrack. “Very well. You are correct. Threatening you would be a hollow gesture.”

  He motioned to two of the soldiers
, who seized Genara’s arms and forced her to drop the saggy puppy she’d been clutching.

  “My orders and aims do not require your woman to survive. Do as I say or Miss Copperwright dies.”

  Desmeres seemed nonplussed. “If you think you are holding a bargaining chip, Commander, then you misunderstand our relationship.”

  “Do not attempt to deceive me. This woman is your ally.”

  “Oh, yes, my ally she certainly is. But I have a somewhat notorious reputation regarding the longevity of my allies. Threatening her gains you nothing, and killing her gains you even less, as I can tell you from experience that murdering her would deprive the Norther Alliance of one of its more delightful conversationalists.”

  “What a touching assessment…” Genara muttered. Though terrified, she was unwilling to allow it to show on her face.

  All held still, waiting. The puppy, a bit too dim to realize the danger his keepers were in, merely sniffed about and pawed at the legs of random soldiers. As no one else seemed to know what to say next, Desmeres helpfully filled the silence.

  “If I recall my indoctrination to the Alliance Army during my brief partnership, the proper course of action is to bring me to the capital for further questioning and sentencing. I might also suggest some treatment for my wounds if you want me to be alive to answer those questions and serve that sentence.”

  “Don’t think I don’t know what you are trying to do,” Anrack said. “Anything that delays your questioning provides opportunities for you to escape.”

  “If you think I need that sort of a delay to provide me with an opportunity to escape, you underestimate me.”

  Anrack hissed with anger.

  “Search him. Disarm him.” He glanced down to find Dowser snuffling at his feet. “And someone do something with this mongrel.”

  “He’s purebred,” Desmeres jabbed as the soldiers tugged at his cloak and pulled weapons from his belt. “There simply must be an accurate way to insult him.”

  “Silence!” Anrack snapped.

  One of the solders gathered Dowser up, but his saggy skin and shaggy coat sent the pudgy animal flopping from his grasp. He rolled to his feet and waddled quickly toward the sack they had set on the ground.