Daniel took it all in and tried to process what they said, but as he went over it in his mind, no one had named a specific act for which they held him guilty and that seemed odd. Focusing his attention on Jason, he wondered what could possess a man to walk into this camp and identify himself like this. He could have sneaked off just as easily as he arrived.
“Alright,” he said finally to all, “let’s hear what our visitor has to say for himself. Jason, I think you have a story to tell and we are very interested in hearing it.”
Jason had been waiting patiently for the turn he hoped he would get and here it was. He had been practicing what to say and how to say it all night, but now that the time was here he wasn’t sure how to begin.
“I want to help bring the Baron down,” he said at last, “he has gone crazy with power ever since his father passed and I don’t know what he is likely do, but I know he is capable of anything.
I have heard what you have said and it is all mostly true. I have been an advisor to the Baron but never his friend. I was more of a pet halfling that he trusted to a degree, like a stray taken in by children.
In the beginning we could have been friends but there was always the distance of nobility to second class citizen and if the gap seemed to narrow he would quickly make the distance clear again. Since his father died and then the death of Lady Lissette’s father, the Baron has become more and more obsessed with power and less able to relate to those around him, including me.”
The others looked at each other quietly gauging reactions. It was Barton who spoke first. “What do you know of the Baron’s death?”
Everyone went very still at Barton’s question because it was at the heart of their thoughts. The troubles had begun with the old baron but had increased a hundred fold under the current baron. Even the elves were focused on Jason and clearly knew his fate was tied to his answer. “I believe the Baron had his father killed or perhaps killed the old man himself.”
“You don’t know?” Lissette asked with obvious incredulity in her voice.
“I don’t,” he replied, “the Baron kept many things from me. I know he was growing more and more impatient for power. I know the old baron went down fast and was very ill. I suspect poison but how he got it or how it was delivered is a mystery. I also know that after his father’s death the Baron’s personality changed, as if from bearing a great weight, and I don’t believe it was the weight of his new responsibilities.”
They all looked at one another, eyes with questions, eyes with uncertainty and those people standing behind Jason actively shrugged. It was clear none were sure how to procced.
“And what of my father?” Lissette’s question was flat - but too flat and all who knew her understood the amount of control it took to ask that question so calmly.
“Lady Lissette,” Jason replied slowly, “I believe he had your father killed as well. He was grasping for power and seemed almost in a panic. I do not know what he was fearful of. It could have been losing something or not gaining something; I am sorry, but I do not know. I saw him fly into a rage when your father refused to give him your hand. I know he was afraid that the king would see that as a possible sign of weakness in him. He was seeing plots and conspiracies. I do not understand what his real motives were or what he hoped to gain other than some idea that he had to raise himself upward in the king’s eyes and perhaps achieve an earldom.”
“And what of my mother?” She asked, even colder than before.
“Again, I know he was desperate to get your hand and I was there when she told him he had neither the power not the backing to force her to submit to his will. I know he was in a terrible rage and had his guards escort her to the dungeon. I tried to ask him about her once and nearly had the rage turned on me. I am sorry but I never asked again.”
“Why should we believe anything you say?” This question came from Barton and there was almost a sigh of relief that another question had not come from Lissette.
“I am halfling as well as many here and while I have done what I have done to raise myself to a position above the plight of so many others of my kind, it is not a position of which I am as proud as I once was.” They were quiet and waiting so he continued. “I could try and tell you how the sight of men, elves and halflings working together in common cause gives me a feeling of wonder and hope. I could tell you that I never imagined a day such as this. But, from your faces, it is easy to see none here believe me, nor do you have cause to believe. So let me put practical answers on the table. The Baron is coming undone for reasons I do not know. My position there may be good now, but I may be cast aside or killed at his next whim. It is not a matter of if, I think, but when.
All around this camp I see something not seen for a long time and if I must die I would rather die with my own kind or at least those who do not feel the need to remind me of the differences on a daily basis. But, back to more practical matters. No one knows the Baron better than me. His capabilities, resources, strategies and how he is likely to react. I offer everything I know to this cause if you will have me.”
“And how do we trust a man traitor once, from being traitor twice?” Barton asked.
Without a pause Jason replied, “Because I want to come home.”
The looks on the faces were ranging from consideration to incredulity. It all sounded good, but trusting this halfling was more than hard for some.
Calden spoke into the thick silence. “Guard!” he called. A guard quickly entered the tent. “Bind this man and take him to where guards can watch him from all sides. Keep him there until we send for him.” The guard in the tent called another and in minutes Jason had been bound and escorted out.
“Thank you, Calden,” Daniel said, “I think we are all glad you had the presence of mind to act. This will take some discussion. What do you think?”
Calden took a deep breath before he spoke. “I do not know the man other than by rumor, reputation and the looks on your faces. I can only say that if he can be trusted, his information would be valuable.”
“Barton?” Daniel asked.
“I am trying hard to look at the man that came to us and separate that from the anger and hatred I have for the Baron. Is it possible that he had no hand in the Baron’s plots? It is hard to imagine. But - I can see the role of sycophant played well and the Baron doing only as he pleased. In all I cannot say.”
“Lissette?”
“Barton cannot condemn. That makes me try and see through all my anger and hurt. I have rarely seen him without the Baron. He was like the Baron’s shadow, a shape with little substance. I know he carried out the Baron’s will. But so did we all in some way. However, I cannot bring myself to trust him and more so with him a turncoat.”
Daniel looked to the others and the faces were blank or like Argon they gave a slight shrug of noncommittal. Except for Henry who seemed to be chewing on something he did not like the taste of. “Henry, what are you thinking?” Daniel asked.
Henry seemed caught in inner turmoil and was having trouble resolving it. Finally he swallowed what was caught and spoke. “I can say that we have had a man in the castle who was high enough to provide occasional warning. Usually, the warnings came in time to save people from one of the Baron’s searches or gatherings. If the Baron Below knew the source he never said, but I have suspected it could be Jason.”
By the looks on their faces, his admission surprised several of the group but on Lissette and Barton’s faces the expressions had gone blank.
“There is more I need to say, Daniel. Barton’s words about traitors struck me close to home. There are those who once called me that when I abandoned the old Baron’s guards and came to work with Basil. Was I a traitor going into the guard or when I left? I am hard to condemn someone who may have done little different than me.”
As the words sunk in, Aldon burst into the tent. The elven poker face was gone. As all eyes turned toward him he blurted out, “Durbin is gone and may be captu
red!”
TWENTY-EIGHT
“His patrol had been out for a few days and was overdue so I took a few men and went to search for him. We found bodies filled with bolts, the entire patrol except for Durbin and his rifle. We followed the trail, wary of another ambush and caught sight of him bound in their camp surrounded by guards; a lot of guards. We watched looking for a way to rescue him. But then we saw an officer talk to him and then – Durbin - showed him how to use the rifle.” Aldon was deeply shaken with fear and despair for Durbin and from having to suggest that his closest kin may have betrayed them. He was so distraught he couldn’t hold eye contact as if the betrayal was his.
Daniel walked forward and placed a hand on Aldon’s shoulder. “It’s, Ok. We all knew this could happen to any of us. After a few days on patrol he couldn’t have had much ammo and teaching his captor to use the rifle would probably use up much of what he had left. I think he has played his hand well.” Daniel hoped his words were true but it looked like Aldon was willing to cling to them like a drowning man clings to a piece of driftwood.
He began to breathe and collect himself, and then asked, “What do we do?”
Others were sent to watch the guards’ camp and report movement or changes. The group met well into the night looking at possibilities and plans. For the first time they were divided on what to do and Daniel had to play tie-breaker. Few of them were truly able to sleep but they gathered in the tent as the sun came up and sent for Jason.
He looked little better than them from sleeping on the ground with hands and feet tied. His wits were still sharp enough to see that something was wrong and it was weighing heavily on Daniel and his band.
“Untie him,” Calden said and motioned for Jason to sit in one of the chairs.
Some looked at him and some away, and while Jason was not now afraid for his life, he was still nervous. Was he afraid they were simply letting him go, he wondered?
“A situation has occurred and we have some need of information from you,” Calden continued. Jason waited and the seconds ticked by in utter silence.
Henry spoke first. “The Baron Below has sometimes received warnings about Baron Kleinhurst. What do you know of this?”
For the first time, Jason was surprised. This was a question he had not anticipated and he tried to think quickly. “The Baron long suspected he was being thwarted by someone selling information to those Below. Despite a variety of traps and tricks he was never able to identify those responsible.”
“Do you know who gave warnings?” Henry asked.
There it was, Jason thought hard. “I do know but would rather not say whom.”
“We need to know. We need to get information on what is happening in the castle.”
Jason was quiet for a moment and then made an inward shrug. There were always options, he thought. “That may be a little difficult as he is not in the castle at the moment.” Jason shrugged with a half-smile, “He is in a chair in a tent in the woods.”
There were a few nods and a few looks of despair and one small smile from Henry.
TWENTY-NINE
Durbin had been leading a small team of humans and halflings patrolling the areas where Baron Kleinhurst’s men had taken the worst beatings. They were tired. The kind of bone deep tired that comes from three days of focus and stealth. Always being on your guard for any little noise or movement is exhausting. They were finishing the return leg of the patrol and had half sat, half collapsed in the small clearing they had used previously when the bolts started to fly.
The ambush was well organized and they were outnumbered. Before they could respond, Durbin was the last one not wounded or dead.
“Drop that weapon on the ground. If you try and use it, you will be dead before you can.”
The voice was behind him and as tired as he was, the adrenalin had heightened his senses so that he could count somewhere more than twenty men around him.
“Drop that weapon,” the voice was from someone clearly used to giving commands.
Durbin’s options were drop the weapon or die. Probably die either way he thought. Even so, he let the rifle slide slowly to the ground and placed his hands out to his sides making it clear he had no other means of defense.
Quickly, rough hands grabbed his from behind and began tying them behind his back.
“Turn around.” The voice commanded flatly.
Durbin turned slowly to his right trying to spot the men in the trees, though he knew escape was next to impossible. Finishing his turn, he came face to face with one of the Baron’s officers.
Durbin was walking alongside the Baron’s guards as they rode. An elf’s stride carried him at the plodding speed of horses with little effort, and like most of his kind, he preferred to walk. He had nothing against riding, but unless he had a long distance to cover in a short time he didn’t see it worth the trouble.
Breaking the silence, the Captain spoke to Durbin. “You are alive for one reason. You will teach me to use this weapon. If you do not, you will share the fate of the others in your party. I tell you this because I want you to consider your options as we return to camp. There will be no hesitation on your part and no misdirection or you will die. This weapon has many afraid and killing its owner might do much to dispel their fears. Think on this, Elf, we still have some time for you to make your choice.”
Daniel considered his options as he walked. He had been caught with nearly twenty rounds and he saw that teaching the Captain to use the rifle would deplete the ammo rendering it useless as anything but a club. Cooperation, in this case was his best option.
Captain Tayler was clearly trepidatious about the weapon. He tried to conceal it in his voice but the unease was clearly there. Durbin had felt the same in the beginning and that knowledge gave him some control.
When they arrived at the camp, the Captain dismounted and turned to face Durbin. “You will be fed and then we will begin – or not and what you eat will be your last meal.”
While Durbin ate as slowly as he could, he knew he could not buy much time. He hoped for rescue but could not see how it could be organized yet. When the Captain approached Durbin for the answer, he set down his plate and stood and said, “Before we begin there are some things we need to do to prepare.”
“Such as?” The captain asked skeptically.
With his best straight face Durbin said, “I cannot convince you of the power of the weapon or the dangers of it till you see them for yourself. For the sake of others, we need to move away from the camp into a large clearing with nothing alive near it.”
The Captain watched the elf’s face but could tell nothing from it. It would do no harm to comply, he determined, so he sent a couple of guards to find a suitable location. A half hour later they were standing in a clearing a half mile away from the main camp.
“You have your clearing,” the Captain said, “now how do we begin?”
“We need a man sized target about fifty paces over there against those trees,” Durbin responded. “It should be propped up well or it will fall every time it is hit.”
“Corporal,” the Captain barked, “you heard him. Find me a target.”
The Corporal took off and in a few minutes had come up with a man sized bundle of sticks with a hard bark front hung like a chest plate. It was all tied securely around a large tree.
Through all this Durbin used his eyes and ears to listen for any signs of rescue. He thought he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and assumed that if someone was there it was elves.
Durbin had had time to take the measure of the Captain, and sensed immediately that the Captain was a good officer and not one trying to use his power just because he could. He was fair, and while cautious did not tolerate abuse of his prisoners. Always one to try and find a thread that could be pulled, Durbin began to form a plan.
The shooting range was open with no cover, but the guards’ fear of the terrifying weapon, and perhaps the Captain’s fears as
well, had two men with crossbows aimed at Durbin, each standing twenty paces away. Another guard was down range but safely away from the target. This made it possible for Durbin to speak to the Captain with some privacy.
“Captain, I can teach you to use this weapon but it will do you no good,” he began in a low voice.
“How can learning to control such a thing be of no value?” The Captain’s question was mostly curious at what he apparently saw as a nonsensical comment.
“Think of it this way,” Durbin began slowly, “the Baron is not his father, and since the old Baron – uh - died,” When the Captain didn’t push back, Durbin smiled internally and pressed on quickly. “With the new Baron’s behavior, sooner or later the people had to get enough and begin to push back. If it wasn’t destroying the woods, it would have been taxes or his raids to take food. This one rifle will not turn the tide and you will be on the wrong side. I think you are a good man, Captain, and that would be a shame.”
Elves- the Book of Daniel Page 26