“Bah,” Cholk said, “that’s too dismal for a toast. I’ll not drink to such an ominous sentiment.”
“To friendship then,” Opal declared, clanking her mug against the dwarf’s.
Colt brought his cup to meet theirs and took a long draught of the bittersweet liquid. Though this was his first cup, he already felt the wine’s effect. He decided this would be his only drink. He didn’t want to have to compound the stress of Prince Eliot’s visit with a skull-splitting headache.
As it were, he’d be lucky if he could bend low enough to perform a proper bow, considering all he had accomplished that day. Upon first settling in Fort Faith, Colt and his men had spent weeks transforming it into a bastion worthy of their occupation, a keep both hospitable and formidable. However, they had left quite a few minor tasks undone, focusing on functionality and ignoring aesthetics in the meantime.
But with a prince on the way, Colt had set his mind to finishing the job. So he and all the Knights that could be spared had spent the day putting the finishing touches on Fort Faith’s rebirth. Colt had no official training in stonemasonry, carpentry, or tailoring, yet he had done a little of it all while supervising the hasty project.
With the muscles in his arms sore and a knot in his back the size of a fist, Colt wondered if he had ever done so much work in so little time before. He recalled his days of training for the Knighthood and decided that if Knights really wanted to teach new squires discipline, they ought to force them to renovate an old castle.
“I want to thank you both for your help today,” Colt said suddenly, staring into his nearly empty cup. “You were in no way bound to help me, but you did so without a single complaint…which is more than can be said for some of the Knights.”
“Hard work never killed anybody,” Cholk said.
“It was the least we could do, Colt. You’ve never asked for payment of any kind for our staying here,” Opal said, looking away when Colt’s eyes met hers. She took another drink, licked her lips, and added, “This is beginning to feel like one big goodbye. Maybe we should change the subject before I get all misty-eyed.”
Colt smiled, though he wondered if Opal every truly got misty-eyed. Would her final words to him be ones of cunning wit or genuine sentiment?
“What else is there to talk about?” Colt asked. “Prince Eliot’s visit is the biggest thing to happen to Fort Faith since the Thanatan Conflict.”
“I don’t know about that.” Opal emptied her cup and grabbed the bottle to refill it. “What about the prisoner. Did you learn anything useful from him?”
Colt shook his head. “Scout won’t talk. Actually, he has quite a mouth on him, but he doesn’t say anything important. He wouldn’t betray his cohorts, even after I promised him leniency.”
“That surprises you?” Cholk asked softly.
Colt shrugged, dismissing the question as rhetorical, but something in Cholk’s dark eyes told him that the dwarf was waiting for an answer.
“Actually, it does surprise me,” he admitted. “Why wouldn’t he trade their lives for his?”
“Would you have told the Renegades anything if they’d captured you?”
“Of course not,” Colt replied.
“The Knights and the Renegades aren’t so unalike,” Opal said evenly.
Colt straightened in his seat, feeling a bit insulted. “What do you mean by that?”
She blinked twice, making eye contact with him once more, and then merely shrugged. “I’m just saying the men in Klye’s band are likely as loyal to each other as we are to you, Colt.”
“I suppose that’s possible.”
In truth, he had expected Scout to be more like Osric Curraal, the Renegade Leader who had killed his cousin and who would’ve killed Colt too, if not for Cholk.
“Maybe you should talk to him, Cholk,” Colt said. “Get Scout to see the error of his ways. Maybe he’d quit the Renegades like you did.”
“Everyone’s different,” Cholk said. “I became a Renegade out of a sense of obligation to someone I thought was my friend. But I was being used…another pawn to move wherever he saw fit. I never cared one way or another about the rebellion, but Scout obviously believes in what he’s fighting for.”
Colt sighed. “I’ve always thought of the Renegades as a bunch of self-righteous bandits, motivated by greed and intolerance toward non-humans.”
He paused, his thoughts jumping from the hated Osric Curraal to Cholk to the man called Scout. Maybe Opal was right about the Renegades and Knights. Colt would sooner die than betray his friends, and hadn’t he risked so much—too much?—in going after Opal himself? Wouldn’t he have given his life if it meant Opal’s safety?
An unwelcome thought blossomed in his mind. “You don’t think that Scout’s friends might attempt to break him out of the dungeon, do you?” he asked Cholk.
But it was Opal, wearing a faraway look, who answered. “I think we can bet on it.”
* * *
Scout sat on a moldy plank that served as a bench, his chin resting in his hands. The air was so musty and damp he could taste it. He had lost count of his sneezes, but aside from the odor and motes of dust that the wafted throughout the dungeon like ghosts haunting a graveyard, Scout had to admit he had little to complain about.
The Knights had treated him as well as could be expected, better perhaps. He had been questioned twice—first by Fort Faith’s commander and a second time by the dour-looking Knight who had given Colt the news about Prince Eliot. Colt’s second-in-command was far more insistent in his questioning than Colt had been, but the worst that that Knight had done was add some colorful threats to the predictable series of questions.
From what he had heard of Ragellan and Horcalus’s experiences and from his own encounter with the Knights at the Temple of Mystel, Scout had expected far rougher treatment. Of course, torture could still come down the road, especially if he continued to refuse to cooperate. At the moment, however, the Knights were content to let him rot in the bowels of the fort.
The notion he had finally been caught after so many years of taunting Capricon’s authorities depressed him more than anything else.
Staring at the thick bars of the door to his small cell, Scout cursed the midge who had brought about his downfall. So intent was he on thinking up cruel fates for Noel that he didn’t immediately believe his eyes when an unmistakable silhouette appeared on the other side of the bars.
“What do you want?” Scout demanded. “Do the Knights think I’ll tell you what I haven’t told them?”
The shadow did not immediately reply. Scout saw the outline of the conical hat swivel, as though his visitor were looking right and left. Then came the whisper, “Come closer to the door.”
Scout hesitated, but figuring he didn’t have much to lose, he approached the bars, crossed his arms, looked down at the midge, and said, “What.”
“I need you to tell me where Klye is,” Noel replied in a loud whisper.
“Well, that’s the questions of the day, isn’t it? ‘Where is your hideout?’ ‘Where can we find the Renegade Leader?’ ‘Is it true that there are rogue Knights of Superius in your band?’” Scout said, mimicking the stern voice of Lieutenant Petton.
Noel shook his head violently, causing his hat to tip precariously to one side. “No, no, no. I just wanna to talk to Klye, not kill him. ’Cause that’s the problem. The Knights want to fight him, so I have to warn him so he can get away before they find him. He’s an old friend of mine, you know.”
Scout snorted.
“I’m not lying! My name is Noel…didn’t he ever mention me?” The midge was no longer whispering, and his voice rose in pitch at the end of his question, expressing incredulity.
“No offense, but Klye Tristan isn’t the type of guy who’d befriend a midge.” He was surprised to see the brim of Noel’s oversized hat tip forward as the midge’s head and shoulders slumped. “What kind of a trick is this, anyway? I’m amused, sure, but hardly convinced.”
“Klye and I
are friends,” Noel insisted. “Or at least, I thought we were. Now he’s a bad guy, and I’m friends with the good guys who want to put a stop to his shenanigans. You have to believe me, Scout. No one ever believes.” He said the last part under his breath.
“Look, even if I did believe you, I wouldn’t tell you where Klye and the others are. You said yourself that you’re in with the Knights. What would stop you from sharing what you’ve learned with them?”
Now Noel looked up, and even in the dim illumination of the dungeon, Scout saw the midge was staring right into his eyes. “Haven’t you been listening? I don’t want Klye to get hurt. And I don’t want Klye to hurt Colt or Opal or even Cholk, even though he never calls me by my name and thinks I’m crazy. I promise I won’t tell anyone if you tell me where Klye is. I’ll go by myself. Honest.”
Scout was about to express his estimate on the worth of a midge’s promise but thought better of it. He had initially dismissed Noel’s story as a use concocted by the Knights, but the more he thought about it, the less sense it made. It was all too ludicrous for a rational being to think up. And for all their faults, the Knights were logical creatures.
A peculiar sound wafted down the subterranean corridor, causing Scout to perk up and instinctively reach for his knife, which, of course, he didn’t have it.
“What’s that noise?” Scout asked.
“Snoring,” Noel said matter-of-factly. “I had to make the guards fall asleep so I could talk to you.”
Scout regarded the midge curiously. It did sound like snoring, so either the Knights were committed to playing their roles in this bizarre charade, or Noel really had put them to sleep. No Knight—or any man, for that matter—would willingly let a midge cast a spell on him, and Scout couldn’t believe his captors were faking signs of sleep to further the ridiculous plot.
Which meant Noel was telling the truth.
Scout remembered Klye’s interest in seeing Noel for himself when he had spotted the midge heading for Fort Faith as well as how silent Klye had been on their return to Port Stone. Hadn’t Klye had the opportunity to kill Noel during their battle with the Knights of Fort Faith? And hadn’t Noel had the chance to kill Klye, yet both of them survived the melee?
Scout chewed his lip, trying to figure out how he might exploit the situation to his advantage. If he were wrong—if Noel was lying—then his telling him the location of the Renegade camp would result in disaster. But if the midge were genuinely concerned for Klye’s wellbeing, he might inadvertently provide the Renegades with valuable information.
Could he really wager his friends’ lives on the possibility that Noel was being truthful?
* * *
Klye awoke to someone gently shaking him. He was considerably startled because he didn’t remember falling asleep in the first place. He had sat through more than three hours of the night watch, waiting for a tardy Solomon Aegis to return to camp, but there had been no sign of the missing Renegade during his shift or a full hour later, when Lilac and Horcalus had finally shooed him out of their way.
Reluctantly, he had crept back into the cave and lay in the cool darkness, regretting sending Scout to spy on Fort Faith. Scout had volunteered for the mission, eager to learn what he could about the enemy and assuring Klye that he had been spying on people for as long as he could remember.
Scout had promised to return to camp under the cover of night—last night. As Klye had tried to get comfortable with only the thin material of a bedroll between him and the hard ground, listening to the breathing of his slumbering companions, he imagined the many terrible things that could have happened in twenty-four hours.
But apparently he had finally fallen asleep for now he was pushing back the fog of slumber, trying to figure out whose hand was on his arm.
“Klye, wake up,” whispered a woman’s voice. “We need you outside the cave.”
Lilac didn’t say more. She pulled him to his feet and guided him out of the cave. The cold mountain air quickly cleared the cobwebs from his mind, and the first thing he noted was that Lilac carried her sword unsheathed. Then he saw Horcalus standing a few yards away from the mouth of the cave, his longsword held out at what looked like a bundle of blue cloth.
Only, this bundle of blue cloth wore a pointy hat made of straw and carried a staff.
“Hey, Klye! It’s me…Noel!”
Klye was speechless. Even though he had come face to face with the midge a few days ago and even though he had finally come to terms with the fact that his coma dream had been more than a dream, the sight of Noel was enough to made Klye’s brain go numb all over again.
As if sensing Klye’s unsteadiness, Lilac took hold of his arm once more. “The midge says he knows you…and that he has a message from Scout.”
It took more than a little coaxing to convince Horcalus to sheathe his sword. Klye didn’t fault the man for his suspicion, but there simply wasn’t time to explain the uncanny circumstances under which he had met Noel. So he simplified matters by telling Horcalus and Lilac he had worked with the midge back when he was a thief.
“What are you doing here, Noel?” was all Klye could think to say.
“I was going to ask you the same thing. It’s great seeing you and all, but I must say I’m disappointed in you.”
“What?”
“After being a hero for so long, you went back to being a bad guy.” Noel regarded him with a disapproving frown.
“What?” Klye repeated. “What in the hells are you…look, Noel, I’m not a bad guy.”
“Yes, you are. You’re a Renegade Leader.”
Klye shook his head. The memories—and the familiar frustration—of dealing with a midge were coming back all at once. “I don’t have time to explain it, but suffice it say, the Renegades are not the bad guys. It’s your friends, the Knights, who are in the wrong.”
The look Noel gave him spoke volumes about the midge’s doubt. Not that Klye could blame him.
“If you’re siding with the Knights, then why did you come here, Noel?” Klye asked. “And what do you know about Scout?”
“I came here to save your life for old time’s sake. Scout told me where to find you on the condition that I told you two things…first, he’s alive…and second, he’s being held prisoner in Fort Faith’s dungeon. Now you and your gang have to get away from here before the Knights come and get you. Go on. Go! The sooner you leave, the better.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Klye told him flatly. A bittersweet mixture of relief and anxiety churned in the Renegade Leader’s stomach. Scout was alive—but how long would that last? “If the Knights have Scout, we have to get him back.”
Noel’s eyes opened wide. “What? No. You’re not listening to me. You have to go far away from here. If you go to the fort, they’ll kill you. Colt is really mad at you because you made him look bad, and now the Prince of Superius is coming to yell at him. You have to go far, far away.”
“What was that about the Prince of Superius?” Horcalus demanded.
Ignoring Horcalus, Noel added, “I didn’t risk meeting with your friend and then come all the way out here in these scary mountains just so you can do the opposite of what I say!”
“We’re not leaving Scout behind,” Klye repeated. “I’m…honored that you’re concerned about me, but if you truly want peace between us and the Knights, you have to realize we need to be on equal footing before a truce can be made. Only after we get Scout back will we consider leaving Fort Faith.”
Klye had no intentions of abandoning his quest, but he had to give Noel some hope of reaching his goal. Otherwise, the midge might decide to do something drastic, like using a spell to transport him and the rest of his band halfway around the world.
“If you help us break Scout out of the dungeon, you’d be a big help to both the Renegades and the Knights because then we’d have nothing to fight about.” He felt far worse about the lie than he had expected.
Noel’s eyes narrowed. Hands planted on his hips and scowl
ing darkly, the midge said, “I can’t do that, Klye. Colt is my friend too. And besides, I am not a bad guy.”
I’m not a bad guy either, you twit! Klye seethed. But he had learned early on in his dealings with Noel that shouting always made things worse. Only by thinking like a midge, by using Noel’s own illogical reasoning against him would he get Noel to do what he wanted.
Anyway, Scout’s life was at stake. If lying was the worst thing he had to do to save his friend, so be it.
“We’re not leaving until Scout is back with us,” Klye said slowly. “So if you want to make sure that neither Colt nor I get hurt during the rescue, maybe you should help.”
Klye unconsciously held his breath as Noel pondered the arrangement. “Can I use my magic?” he asked at last.
“Yes,” Klye said softly, knowing that that was the only right answer and ignoring the alarmed looks on Horcalus’s and Lilac’s faces.
Then Noel was all smiles. “All right. I’ll help you, Klye, but just this once…unless you become a good guy again. The Knights are always telling me I can’t use my magic, except when they really need me to, and then they ask for miracle at the drop of a hat.”
Klye tuned the midge out as he rambled on. He needed a plan to break Scout out of the dungeon. He considered attempting the rescue without the midge, giving Noel a pointless task that would keep him out of the way, but he remembered all too clearly how the prison-break in Port Town had almost ended—how it would have ended if not for Father Elezar.
No, Noel was a necessity, as much for his knowledge of the fort as for his arcane powers.
Even as Klye reviewed options, he knew he still had one problem left to consider before worrying about the rescue plan: the monumental task of convincing his men to put their trust in a midge.
Passage XIII
The Renegades watched the mysterious activity at Fort Faith in collective surprise. Due to the dense trees they were hiding behind, not to mention the distance between the copse and the fort, there was little chance the Knights would spot them. Regardless, Klye stayed low to the ground, half-crouching as he squinted into the brightness of morning and tried to make sense of what was happening.
Rebels and Fools (The Renegade Chronicles Book 1) Page 41