Skyrider of Renegade Point

by Erik Christensen

  William said nothing, but turned away from the hill and followed Jack, his anger slowly subsiding, leaving in its place a sense of purpose, a determination that would not be denied.

  Deacon greeted William and Jack at the door, quickly closing it behind them as they entered. He ushered them through the crowd, some of whom gave William weak and uncertain cheers, and ushered them upstairs to a large sleeping room. Deacon fiddled with something on the wall, then slid a panel open that revealed another room where Maya, Charlie, and Rachel were waiting for them. Deacon closed the panel behind them. “You’ll be safe here,” said Deacon. “As far as I know, even the regular guards never knew about this room.”

  Maya jumped up and inspected William. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

  “No, but I’m a little bruised,” said William. “A piece of wood clipped my shoulder when Clyde busted in. Actually, wait—it feels better now. Maybe I wasn’t hurt as bad as I thought. I lost my sword though, and I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.” He told them about Kirby Elric, both past and present, as well as the squatter camp on his land.

  “Is he the boss?” asked Charlie.

  Rachel furrowed her brows. “He doesn’t sound like a rebel leader to me,” she said. “Just someone who enjoys being part of the chaos. Are you sure you didn’t see anyone else who might be in charge?”

  William shook his head. “Dolinski claimed he was acting on the earl’s orders when he arrested me.”

  “Didn’t Sir Hendrick say something about a sergeant he thought might be the ringleader?” asked Jack. “Sergeant Slow-something.”

  “Slovik?” asked Deacon. “The new quartermaster? You think he’s mixed up in this? But he seemed like such a nice fellow. He even introduced me to a new wine supplier—great stuff, good price. That’s a shame, a real shame.”

  “I think all the new guards are,” said William. “Charlie, where do the new recruits come from now? They can’t all be Selection Day picks.”

  “The Academy in Faywater Port,” said Charlie. “The Guard opened three academies to train new recruits.”

  “So, they don’t even come from the towns where they’re posted anymore?”

  Charlie shook his head. “Everything’s changed now. All recruits go to one of the academies, and then they get posted somewhere else when they graduate. They don’t work in their hometowns anymore.”

  “Makes sense,” said Rachel. “People don’t respect you as much if they knew you as a kid.”

  “But why so many new recruits in Marshland?” asked Jack. “Where have the veterans gone?”

  “Promoted away,” said Deacon. “They often celebrated here at the inn before shipping away. With all the new frontier towns, they need experienced guards for senior positions in places like Quinn’s Post out your way.”

  William accepted a bowl of soup from Lucy and blew on it to cool it. “The question is whether it was on purpose or if it just happened that way,” he said before digging in.

  “Oh please,” said Rachel with a roll of her eyes. “Nothing like this happens by accident. Someone wanted it this way.”

  “So what do we do about it?” asked William. “We can’t simply do nothing.”

  “Why not?” asked Jack. “Didn’t you say the Faywater Guard would send people to deal with it?”

  William stopped eating and stared at Jack with impatience. “Yes, but it could take weeks. They can’t send hundreds of men by stagecoach, so they either have to march or come by barge.”

  “I have a suggestion,” said Deacon. “You should lie low for a bit, especially you, Lord William. If you don’t mind the cramped quarters, you can wait here until nightfall, and then we can visit Bird. If anyone has better access to news than a barkeeper, it’s a pigeon keeper.”

  “Thanks, Dan,” said William. “That sounds like a good plan.”

  The innkeeper nodded. “So now the only question is whether you want to eat or sleep first.”

  “Eat,” said William as he handed his empty bowl to Dan. “I enjoyed that, but I have two or three meals to make up for.”

  Jack waited for Dan to leave before turning to William. “How is this a good plan? Sometimes it seems like your only missions in life are to eat and to get yourself into trouble. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had to rescue you.”

  “Relax, Jack,” said Rachel. “He’s a pigeon keeper. Did he seem dangerous last time?”

  Jack looked sheepish, but persisted. “Well no, but it’s the road that worries me.”

  Rachel gave him a condescending glare. “It’ll be dark, and we have six people plus a dragon—assuming we’re all going. Besides, the only other option is to stay here until who knows when.”

  Jack said nothing, but glared at William from the corner. When the food arrived, William attacked it in silence, refusing to meet Jack’s gaze out of shame. He was right, after all: countless times William had waded into a situation, oblivious of the dangers, only to have Jack show up later, alone or with friends, to extricate William from whatever trap he’d fallen into—including this very night.

  He ate for what seemed like an hour, outlasting even Charlie. He looked around the room and noticed everyone else had already fallen asleep. Maya and Charlie shared the only bed in the room while Jack and Rachel occupied the cots that Dan laid out for them, leaving William the armchair. Unable to stretch out, he couldn’t relax enough to fall asleep, so he looked around for a distraction. Unsurprisingly, the room was devoid of books, and lacked even a simple deck of cards for solitaire. It occurred to him that while he slept in the prison, his friends must have remained awake, waiting for a chance to bust him out. How apt that he should find himself sleepless now while the others dozed in comfort. Even Clyde snored gently on the floor beside his chair.

  William started as Rachel’s hand landed on his shoulder. “You should sleep, Will.” She had snuck up on him as his mind whirled through the day’s events.

  “I slept in the prison,” he said.

  “Not enough, I’m sure. You need to be ready for whatever happens next.”

  William raised an eyebrow. “A trip to a pigeon keeper? That’s nothing to rest up for.”

  “Sure, but we don’t know what else might happen. The past few days have been exciting after all.”

  He shook his head, frustrated at the constant secrecy, tired of knowing less than everyone around him. “Rachel, what do you know that I don’t?”

  Rachel chuckled at him. “More than you can possibly imagine.”

  “They attacked my home,” he snapped. “They attacked my people. I don’t find this funny. You tell me I should be ready for whatever’s about to happen, but you won’t tell me what that is.”

  She sighed and looked away. “Will, I really don’t know. But I do know something will happen. Rebels are still in charge of Marshland Crossing, and they sure aren’t planning on doing nothing.”

  “But what do you know? And why can’t you tell us? Are we in danger?” His voice rose with exasperation, disturbing Clyde’s slumber.

  Rachel stroked the dragon’s long neck. As he lowered his head she continued. “I’m not free to tell everything I know. I’ve given solemn promises, which I know you take seriously. So, I’m doing what I can to help without breaking my oath. Yes, we’re possibly in danger, but you of all people should know that’s almost always true anyway. It’s easy to sit in a manor, or a Library, or even in a small cottage and pretend everything is safe, but you and I both know that’s not true. Whether or not you know where the danger lies matters less than knowing it exists in the first place.”

  William shook his head again. “That’s not true, and you know it. You can’t prepare for a danger you aren’t aware of.”

  “I’m doing what I can, Will.” She stood quickly, her black hair waving behind her. “What more do you want from me?”

  He leaned forward and locked eyes with her. “If you can’t tell me everything you know, then tell me what you can.”

  S
he stared back with the same intensity. “Right now, I can only tell you one thing: you need to sleep.”

  William leaned back, closing his eyes and letting out a quiet sigh. “How?” he asked, rubbing his temples. “I can’t stop thinking of—well, everything.”

  “Think of Melissa,” she said as she turned away. “That should help.”

  William seethed as Rachel returned to her cot. He had known her for four years now and knew as little now about her as he did when they first met. No—that wasn’t quite true. The only significant thing he’d learned about her, other than her skill as a hunter, was that she was Zander Bertrand’s daughter, a fact she reluctantly admitted as they left Rebel Falls so long ago. Since then, all he knew was that between their yearly summer reunions, she would leave for secret destinations, for purposes she kept to herself. She returned to Jack from time to time in between, for no more than a few days, then disappeared again. William learned long ago not to quiz Jack about her activities, but he couldn’t seem to do the same with Rachel herself.

  He decided to follow her advice. He forced his mind back to his manor, closed his eyes and pictured his own bed, Melissa lying beside him under the covers with a fire roaring in the hearth.

  A loud knock startled him awake. Rachel was on her feet, bow in hand, before William even opened his eyes. Charlie, too, rose swiftly for his size, and positioned himself between Maya and the door. Jack remained on his cot, but William caught the glint of steel in his hand. The door slid open to reveal Dan carrying a tray of tea. “Oh, sorry folks,” he said. “Didn’t mean to scare you. There’s been no sign of bad folks all day. The sun is setting, so I brought you something to help wake up before we see Bird.”

  Tea was poured, and weapons returned to their hiding places, reminding William of his own stolen blade. He rubbed his eyes and caught Rachel smirking at him, not in a mean way, but in a manner that suggested a shared secret. He found it comforting, if not quite true.

  Jack took two cups, handing one to Rachel. “Do you mean the rebels didn’t come to the inn? Or no one has seen them anywhere?”

  “People are too scared to go up the Hill,” said Dan. “But those who dared walk around town tell me the streets are deserted.”

  “That’s both good and bad,” said Rachel.

  “Why?” asked Maya.

  “It means if they’re watching for us, they’re doing so from a distance. But we’ll have no crowd to hide in.”

  Minutes later, William shivered as they emerged into the cold night air. A few stars shimmered between the clouds, giving them the barest light by which to find their path. William was grateful for the cover of darkness, but still cautioned Clyde to stay on the ground.

  “No fly?” asked Clyde, disappointment tinging his childlike voice.

  “Sorry, Clyde. Someone might notice you and figure out where we’re going.”

  Bird’s cottage was as dark as the sky when they finally reached his farm. “Kind of early for him to go to bed, isn’t it?” asked Jack. “Or do pigeon keepers rise at dawn?”

  “Don’t be silly,” said Rachel. “Pigeons don’t need to be milked. Whoever lives here is gone, not sleeping.”

  “How can you tell?” asked William.

  Rachel continued scanning the scene, peering closely at the little farmhouse for a moment. “Just a hunch. We’ll know soon enough.”

  Dan knocked on the cottage door, then again after a moment. The house remained as silent as it was dark.

  “Maybe the barn?” suggested Jack.

  The barn door slid open easily. The stale smell of bird droppings was all that greeted them. Even in the darkness, the echoes of their footsteps made it obvious the place was empty. Charlie found a lamp and lit it with a single flick of his flint. The light splashed out onto bare walls and floor, confirming their suspicions.

  “Everything’s gone,” said William. “Birds, cages, feed…everything.”

  “Mighty strange,” said Dan. “Maybe he’s gone back to Faywater Port. He told me once he retrieves his birds every few months. Maybe that’s why the cages are gone too.”

  “He wouldn’t need all his cages,” said Rachel. “Not to transport them, anyway. Let’s check his cottage.”

  “Oh, I’m not sure I want to break into the man’s house,” said Dan. “He’s not exactly a friend, but he confided in me. I’d feel wrong snooping around.”

  “Stay here then,” said Rachel, her voice cold. She took the lantern from Charlie and walked toward the cottage. William and the rest followed, some more reluctantly than others. Eventually even Dan came along, curiosity overcoming courtesy.

  The front door was locked, but Rachel slid something into the frame and the door popped open. The lantern shone into an empty room, devoid of anything but trash and worn out furniture.

  “Did the rebels take him?” asked Dan, his face full of concern.

  “Not a chance,” said Rachel. “He left, and not in a hurry either. I never met the man, but I can tell you he planned to leave weeks ago at least. Everything’s been moved or sold. You can’t do that overnight, or even in a week.”

  “But that makes no sense,” said Dan. “He never said anything about leaving which means—”

  “Which means he lied to you,” said William. “If Rachel says he planned to leave, I believe her.”

  Dan raised his hands in apology. “Oh, no offense meant, Lord William, to either of you. I’m surprised, is all. He confided in me when he arrived here; why wouldn’t he tell me he was leaving?”

  “When exactly did you meet him?” asked Jack.

  “Oh, about three or four months ago. Said he was relocating from Faywater to set up his business. I thought it odd that he didn’t want me to spread the word about it, seeing as he was starting fresh.”

  “No business owner works in secret,” said Jack. “Not unless their customers demand it. Dan—Bird was working for the rebels.”

  Dan covered his mouth in surprise for several seconds. “I’m such a fool,” he said after a moment. “And Lord William—I brought you right to him. No doubt the attack on your land happened because of the messages he delivered for you. It was entirely my fault. I hope you can forgive me.”

  William placed his hand on Dan’s shoulder. “The wedding wasn’t a secret, Dan. They would have found out some way.”

  “But maybe not in time. And that gold you paid him—he’d never have known about that. No, this will hang over me for a long time. How gullible could I be?”

  “You’re a trusting man, Dan,” said Maya. “That’s a good thing. Please don’t lose it.”

  Dan’s face was twisted in anguish. “Here’s how trusting I was,” he said as he reached into his coat. “He paid me to bring you to him.” He showed William one of the gold pellets he had paid to Bird to send his messages. “Any lords or ladies, he told me. Said he’d pay me a finder’s fee, but not to bring commoners as they’d only waste his time. But I suppose what he really wanted was to snoop into your business. Please take this back, Lord William—my conscience is heavy enough without this in my pocket.”

  William accepted the pellet but did not pocket it. “Only if you promise not to beat yourself over this. Whoever this Bird is—and I wish we knew his real name—he was good at what he did. I trusted him too. I gave him my messages, not you. I let my need to send them blind me. You weren’t the only person he fooled.”

  Dan nodded but said nothing, too full of guilt to speak.

  “So, what now?” asked Jack. “The fact that he left so quickly means something—but what?”

  Rachel met his gaze, then turned to William. “I suspect we’re about to find out.”

  Chapter 18

  “I don’t suppose you want to tell us what’s about to happen?” said William. Her secrecy annoyed him, but he tried not to let it show.

  “How should I know?” asked Rachel, staring him down. “If I knew what they were planning next, or even who they are, I’d tell you. All I know is some mysterious person with a
hidden identity has disappeared without warning.”

  “So now what?” asked William. “Do we go back to the inn, or—”

  Maya raised her hand to interrupt. “Quiet for a second! Do you hear that?”

  William strained his ears, holding his breath until he detected the faint sound. “An alarm bell!” he said. “But what for?”

  “That bell is only ever rung for fires,” said Dan with a sense of urgency. “We need to get back and help.”

  “Wait!” said Jack. “It could be a trap. Let’s stay out of sight until we know for sure.”

  They headed back quickly, but carefully, keeping off the road as much as possible. By the time they neared the inn, the cries of “fire” were obvious. “It’s coming from the docks,” said Dan, the worry evident on his face. “Oh, please don’t let it be the inn! My family is in there!”

  Several voices called out for help. “Fire at the docks!” someone yelled as they approached. “One of the boats is on fire. Bring buckets, pots, pans—anything. Put it out before it spreads!”

  Maya froze, her eyes filled with terror. “Not again,” she whimpered. “Not another fire.”

  Rachel put her arm around Maya’s shoulder and spoke softly. “It’ll be okay. Stay back if you want, but the sooner we put it out, the less chance someone gets injured.”

  Maya nodded and took a slow, shuddering breath. “I’ll get set up at the inn. Bring the injured there.”

  A chain of people ran from the dock to the river bank. Those by the bank filled the buckets and passed them up the line to be thrown onto the flames. The boat was large and fully engulfed in flame, so they focused on preventing the fire from spreading to the dock itself.

  Someone yelled from the next dock. “Another boat on fire!” William’s head whipped around. Sure enough, flames had started rising from the adjacent boat.

  “That’s no accident,” said Rachel. “That fire didn’t spread—the boats are too far apart.”

  “Never mind that,” said William. “Let’s stop it before everything else goes up in flames.” He grabbed an old bailing bucket from a nearby rowboat and ran to the second boat. He could barely reach down to the water from the dock, but he managed to fill the bucket without dropping it. He tossed it onto the nearest flames, desperate to stop them from touching the wooden dock.