Shade only shook his head.
12
“THE NINE HELLS HAVE NO EVIL SO GREAT AS THE PONTIFICATION OF INSPIRING MEN.”
—SHADRACH THE 9TH
2 DAYS BEFORE DEMISE
Some of the Outriders stood atop the giant hellbeast carcass while others kept their distance, but most everyone cheered. The gunmen who had provided covering fire congregated in a circle in front of the low rock wall to offer prayers of thanks for their wondrous conquest.
Shade watched from behind the wall, hating them all. Of those who’d actually had a hand in slaying the hellbeast, only Meesh seemed pleased, but he was Meesh, and he’d delivered the killing blow. The two lieutenants who had survived, one of whom, Alfonso, had suffered a shattered arm from falling off his horse, which his companion, the blond woman, Erin, worked to splint, were the only others who understood. They knew the price of victory, the lessening feeling that came after the thrill of conflict ended. The others hadn’t a clue. Shade made it a point to learn their names; it was a small gesture of respect, but the only one he was sure he could afford.
Abe was walking through the crowd, his railgun resting on his shoulder, issuing orders, trying to get the Outriders organized, but none listened. Shade could read his brother’s frustration in the twitch of his left eye. It seemed the authority Cooper had silently bestowed on the knights had run its course. Now that the hellbeast was gone, the brothers were ignored.
Shade gazed up the hill in search of Cooper, but he was nowhere to be seen. Neither, for that matter, was Asaph. The two men became low conspirators in Shade’s mind, fleeing the scene before they could receive due punishment. Now he had a new reason why Vera had led him to Asaph’s probable tomb beneath the Great Pine—she wanted to reveal the full extent of Cooper’s treachery. What happened to your doubt? a small part of him asked. His every thought was a contradiction, and he ground his teeth and gripped Rosetta’s barrel until his knuckles ached.
“Abe,” he called out, but his brother didn’t hear him over the noise. “Abe!”
The eldest knight peered his way, and Shade beckoned urgently with his hand. Abe pressed through the mob and approached, the frown prevalent on his mug. “What?” he said, raising his voice.
“We need to go,” Shade shouted. “We didn’t come here for this.”
“I know.”
Meesh came hopping over, a grin still plastered across his lips. “You see that, brah?” he said. “You freaking see that?”
“Not now,” Shade told him. “Get your things together. We’re going.”
“Where?”
“Where do you think?” Shade responded with a glare.
“Shit, fine,” Meesh said as he backed away.
A new round of cheers erupted, directed toward a small group of Outriders who strutted away from the giant shelled carcass. Others gathered around them as they walked, shouting out praise to their glorious god. Bertram led the group, and he and six others held aloft gleaming Cubes—the Heartcubes from Barrendale. Shade’s fists clenched even tighter around Rosetta. He glowered at his long-haired brother, who held up his hands.
“Whoa, not my fault!” Meesh exclaimed.
“They were on your horse. Why didn’t you go back to get them?”
“Uh, I was a little busy killing a freaking hellbeast, brah.”
“Shade…” Abe began.
“You should’ve gone back!” Shade hollered, his cheeks hot with rage. “We have responsibilities. We don’t get to forget them just because we killed some oversized bug!”
“Look who’s talking, you ass,” Meesh retorted, and Shade was taken aback by the hostility in his voice. “You mope around and act like a shit-head, then you got the nerve to tell me about responsibility? You, brah, gotta look in the damn mirror.”
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Shade heard Abe say his name again. He ignored it and took a deep breath. “Get the Cubes from them,” he told Meesh.
“No.”
“I said go! Now!”
“SHADE!”
He wheeled on Abe, almost brought up Rosetta’s stock to thwack him in the jaw, but when he saw his brother standing there, one hand on his hip and a look of displeasure on his face, he hesitated. Shade’s whole body shuddered.
“Both of you are acting like children,” Abe said sternly. “We’re not here to fight with each other. We’re here for one reason and one reason only.” He lowered his chin and stared overlong at Shade. “Answers.”
Shade breathed in and out, tried to regain his focus. He cursed the Rush and its aftereffects, then cursed himself for trying to justify his actions. “Sorry,” he said.
Abe gave him a short nod. “Now let’s go. We have a zealot to confront.”
The knights went to retrieve Abe’s stallion, but there were a good number of men and women in red tabards standing in front of the beast. “Excuse me,” Abe said in an attempt to part them, but they refused to move. “What’s the meaning of this?” he asked, visibly angry.
“Just what’re you trying to do?” asked one of the Outriders, the black woman who had greeted them on the road.
“Trying to get my horse,” Abe said.
The cluster blocking his way laughed. Shade let his finger slip around Rosetta’s trigger.
“Your horse?” the woman said, and she grinned sarcastically. “I don’t see any horse of yours. I see one of our horses, to replace the one you lost.”
“What?”
“You sent Garret out there, you got him killed. I’d say fair is fair.” She leaned forward, her hand fell to the hilt of her sword, and she whispered, “In fact, we’re thinking of evening the score. Man for man. Life for life. What do you say?”
Shade’s rage came roaring back. “You ungrateful bitch!” he bellowed, stalking forward and pointing an accusatory finger at every man and woman blocking their way. “You’re all worthless! We saved you. We killed the beast!” He spat at the woman’s feet, which made her eyes widen in either fear or anger. “We should have let you all die!”
“They don’t speak for everyone,” said a voice from behind. Shade spun around. Bertram was standing there, Heartcube in his hands. He smiled softly, as if in apology, and then turned to the woman. “These knights have proven they are not our enemies, and our Lord says we should love them even if they were. They deserve our respect, and our thanks, not to mention our love. So Kamini, don’t be difficult. That goes for all of you. Step aside. Let the man get his horse.”
A chorus of grumbled apologies followed as the cluster drifted away. Shade had to work to stop his heart from hammering.
“Thank you,” Abe said.
“Least I could do,” Bertram replied. “It’s good to allow for some release after a stressful conflict, but I may have allowed it to go on for too long. You have my apologies for that as well.”
Shade took a deep breath and held out his hand, palm up. “It’s good you’re being righteous and all, but I think you have something that belongs to us.”
Bertram glanced at the Cube in his hands, back up at Shade. “This? I’m sorry, but that’s out of the question. The horse is yours, but this object I’m holding… it’s a Soul Fragment of the One True God. It belongs to those who follow His word.”
Shade was about to bark at him, but Abe put a hand to his chest and forcibly shoved him away. “Fine, you can have the Heartcubes. All of them,” the eldest knight said.
“What?” Shade exclaimed.
“They can have them,” Abe said before turning back to Bertram. “However, I demand to speak with your leader. Bring us to Ronan Cooper. Now.”
Bertram offered them a big smile. “Of course. Ronan wishes to speak with you, too.”
“I’m sure it’ll be a fascinating conversation,” Abe said.
“I’m sure,” Shade growled.
On Bertram’s command, the Outriders gathered into three even lines and began the march back to Lambswool. They shouted “Hyah!” with every other step, and the sound of their
uniform footfalls was rhythmic. As Shade tramped alongside, he looked up and down the lines and examined their faces. Their expressions weren’t vacant, but there was a certain impression of stout willingness, of complete adherence to an unfamiliar code, that didn’t set right with him. Are we any different? a part of him asked, glancing in Abe’s direction. Shut up. He focused on what was to come and kept on walking.
Lambswool was much changed since the last time he had been here. It was still a town of homes built with overlapping red bricks, but there were new additions as well, likely due to the presence of Cooper and his Outriders. There was an irrigation system and actual gardens sprouting vegetables he’d only seen in the far north. Huge wooden barracks had been erected, and the municipal building in the town square seemed to have been given a few additions as well, along with an ample stable. It seemed Cooper’s presence hadn’t been a hardship for the town, but just the opposite. The dark-skinned residents that stood on their stoops to greet the returning force clapped and smiled as if welcoming back long-lost relatives.
Shade sought out an Outrider with the shiny cheeks and long, straight black hair common to Lambswool and sidled up to him. “How long has Cooper been here?”
“Two months,” the man said between ‘Hyahs.’
“Why so long?”
The man didn’t answer. Shade let it drop.
Bertram led them to Lambswool’s western district, a place that in the past had been a broad, flattened patch of dirt where the town’s longtime mayor, Yassir Manda, had once promised to erect a theater. That promise had gone unrealized; the area was now filled with tents aligned in even rows, flags bearing the symbol of the fish flapping about. Stacked in giant bundles just off to the side was fresh lumber, presumably from Lemsberg. “Oh wow,” Shade heard Abe say, and he felt his brother’s surprise. The amount of folks wearing either tabards or red armbands was abundant, more than two thousand. Reverend Garron was right to be worried, thought Shade.
The marching Outriders broke ranks and disappeared into the milling crowds while Bertram steered the knights toward a huge pavilion. Abe handed Greenie’s reins to a stablehand, who ushered the huge stallion away. Shade tensed, his expectancy rising, until Bertram held out his arms and brought them to a halt.
“What’s wrong?” Abe asked.
“Hold on,” Bertram told him.
A moment later, the two surviving lieutenants held open the pavilion flaps and stepped aside to allow Ronan Cooper to emerge. He’d taken off his armor and now wore a simple white shift. His long hair was tied back, his posture firm but welcoming. Shade thought he looked like the prophet he claimed to be, which annoyed him to no end. The whole host of Outriders faced their leader. Ronan Cooper held his hands up toward the sky and gazed down on his flock, and all chatter ceased.
“This is a great day,” the man said, his voice steeped in confidence. “Evil has been driven from the world, and that alone is cause for celebration. It is His love that we strive for, and it is because of His blessing that we are given strength. All praise the name of the Lord our God.”
“Praise be to Him,” the crowd murmured.
“It is as the Good Book says,” the man continued. “‘With sacred oil I have anointed you. My hand will sustain you; my arm will strengthen you. The enemy will not get the better of you, the wicked will not oppress you. I will crush your foes before you and strike down your adversaries. My faithful love will be with you, and through my name your horn will be exalted.’ So says the Lord our God.”
“Praise be to Him,” chanted the crowd.
Meesh elbowed Shade lightly on the arm. “Great to be given credit, eh?” he said.
Shade just glared ahead.
Ronan Cooper dropped his hands and bowed his head to his people. “Now eat, drink, and be merry. While today might have been a great victory, tomorrow will bring only hardship. Peace be with you.”
“And also with you,” the crowd answered.
Cooper lifted his head, and for a brief moment locked eyes with Shade. The man gave him a nod that seemed strangely mournful, then turned around and stepped back into the pavilion. The enormous crowd of Outriders burst into applause, and when Shade turned his head he could see that many of the Lambswool residents stood on the periphery, themselves honoring the spectacle.
“What the hell…?” Shade began.
“Come,” Bertram said.
They strolled up to the pavilion, which was set atop a wooden platform. The lieutenants continued to hold open the flaps, offering looks of appreciation to the knights. Shade ducked his head and walked through behind Abe. Bertram veered off to the side and stood with hands clasped behind his back. The interior of the pavilion was spacious; six tall wooden posts held up the ceiling. The place was filled with trunks and temporary shelves. There was a sleeping area to the right, concealed by a heavy curtain, and another partitioned section to the left, complete with a steel oven. Shade noticed these things with cursory interest, for the pavilion’s most important occupant was right in front of him.
Ronan Cooper sat in a high-backed chair, his blue eyes wide and accepting. He looked far younger than his forty-nine years in that moment. Next to him sat Asaph, and Shade clutched his duster to keep from doing anything stupid. The man had been fiddling with a strange round pendant with a crystal in the center, tucking it back into his shirt and looking away when Shade growled.
Abe approached, and Shade saw him give Asaph an angry glare before he straightened his back and lifted his chin. “Ronan Cooper,” he said.
“Abednego,” Ronan answered, inclining his head. “I’m glad you three have come.”
“Are you not curious as to why?” Abe asked.
Cooper tilted his head, pursed his lips. He looked baffled. “I sent for you.”
“Sent for us?”
The man nodded. “I dispatched a letter to Sal Yaddo requesting your assistance. You don’t know of it?”
His words seemed to make Abe balk, and beside Cooper, Asaph brought his fist up to his mouth to hide a chuckle. Shade pressed his lips into a thin line. Liar. His right hand twitched over the hilt of his Eldersword.
Abe finally gathered himself. “I think you misunderstand our coming here. We know of no such letter.”
Cooper’s head tilted to the side. “Then why are you here?”
“We come at the behest of our Oracle. We know you’ve been stealing Heartcubes,” Abe said, and he threw his shoulders back.
The brigand prophet sat defiantly in his chair. “I’ve stolen nothing.”
“We’ve been to Barrendale, and Ramstable, along with Breighton,” Abe said. “We’ve followed you for weeks. You may not have stolen the Cubes yourself, but it was your words that led to them being taken. That makes you culpable in our eyes. You’ve also been building an army.” The eldest knight proffered his hand behind him. “That has our people very concerned.”
“You don’t understand,” Cooper said. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temple, and Shade grinned at his obvious discomfort.
“Why don’t you explain it to us?” Shade said.
Cooper stood from his chair and paced, head down, fifteen feet in front of the knights. “I’ve stolen nothing,” he repeated. “You cannot call it theft when the objects never belonged to those people in the first place. The Cubes you speak of are God’s tools, meant for God’s chosen people. And you’re right… I have been building an army. A holy army, whose duty it is to protect life, not take it. I don’t quest after power, Abednego. I seek peace, and prosperity, but most of all, survival. That is what I told your Reverend Garron.”
Shade shoved his way forward, unable to take it any longer. “You lie, and you leave nothing but destruction in your wake. You expect us to believe you?”
Cooper stopped pacing and stared at him, confused.
Abe put a hand on Shade’s shoulder. “Everywhere you’ve gone, you’ve left behind hardship,” Abe said. “We’ve already encountered two fissures on our journey… three if you
count whatever opening birthed the hellbeast we just destroyed.”
“We encountered a hellbeast too,” Ronan answered.
“I know,” Abe said. “Just outside the Rocklaws, which is where we had to close another of those fissures.”
“Er, we should probably mention that you riled up the Scourgers into raiding Barrendale,” Meesh added.
Abe nodded. “Yes, that as well.”
Cooper stared at each of the knights in turn, his face slack. He then plopped himself back in his chair. “This isn’t my doing,” he said. “It’s his.”
Anger churned in Shade’s belly. “And who might that be?” He pointed an accusatory finger at Asaph. “This cloaked madman who commands the dead? Hah! Why don’t you tell us what really happened to the good people of Breighton?”
Cooper glanced at Asaph, who grimaced, then back at the brothers. “I didn’t know he would follow me,” Cooper said, sorrow in his tone. Shade stilled the vile curse on his tongue.
“Just tell them,” Asaph told the brigand prophet.
Ronan leaned back, his gaze became distant. “This force I’ve gathered… it’s an army of light, formed in the name of God specifically to oppose darkness.”
“I don’t understand,” Abe said.
The man sighed. “Two years ago, in the mountains bordering Lemsberg, my scouts found a cave. Inside that cave was treasure you could have never imagined. It was a hidden outpost of the Elders, from before the Age of Enlightenment. Inside were devices the likes of which no one has ever laid eyes on. There were also books, preserved through the ages in a sealed room.” He waved toward the crates and shelving that filled the pavilion. “Lots and lots of books.”
Cooper slapped his chair’s armrests, stood up, made his way to one of the crates, knelt before it, undid the latch. Shade tensed, ready for him to pull out a weapon, but all the man removed from within was a single, dusty tome.
“Most of the books were written in languages I didn’t understand,” he said, “but a precious few were in Straightspeak. Some were instruction manuals for the instruments the outpost hid… others were manuals of a different sort. Manuals for life.”
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