Renegade Reprisal (The Renegade Series)

by J. C. Fiske

  “Really? What do you mean by that?” Gisbo asked.

  “Later, later. I will give ya a hint, though. It’s somethin’ about you bein the new Man-Phoenix,” Phil said. Gisbo looked at him with shock.

  “You know about . . . what I am?” Gisbo asked. Phil nodded.

  “Aye, dat I do. Only the McCarley family knows, though, not a soul else. If I ever talked ‘bout this mission o’ mine to anyone else, dey would tink I’m crazy! Can ya imagine that?” Phil said.

  “Okay, that’s good, I don’t want people looking at me weird,” Gisbo replied.

  “Aye . . . but enough ‘bout all dat! Tell me where you’ve been all my life there, Gizzy! We got a lot of catchin’ up to do!” Phil exclaimed as he put an arm around Gisbo’s shoulder, and they returned to the kitchen. In no time at all, they had dinner heated up, and the boys spent the night catching up with each other’s life stories. Gisbo started first and Phil listened with absolute interest to every detail and applauded at Gisbo’s feats and commiserated with his failures.

  “Aye, don’t worry ‘bout yer dear ol’ dad. He loves yah. That I’m sure of. There is a lot of bad blood between he an’ Grandah. Something happened between ‘em long ago, but I haven’t any clue as ta exactly wot. My guess be, though, its got sumtin to do with Grandah’s arm,” Phil explained.

  “His arm?” Gisbo asked.

  “Aye, it ain’t der, if ya haven’t noticed,” Phil said.

  “I only saw him once and, yeah, I did notice,” Gisbo answered.

  “Nobody ‘ardly sees the ol’ geezer. Grumpy old goon is the self-proclaimed leader o’ this place and all he does is sit alone in his room for the most part, just drinkin’ ‘is life away. Mostly everyone seems to follow in suit. Now, don’t look at me like dat, I do no such ting, I’m as active as a bunny on fire, I be! But Grandah, I mean, the goozer’s old, but he be powerful, Gizzy. Lemme tell yeh, first command of the Flarian Warlord’s army long ago and personal bodyguard to ‘im, with or without ‘is arm. I be proud to have his blood coursin’ through me,” Phil said.

  “Still, I wonder what happened. Doug seems to know the truth of it all and said to only listen to his version,” Gisbo said.

  “Aye, me dah knows, but he won’t tell me, either. I’ve heard rumors, Gizzy, an’ none of ‘em have been good. But I’ve blocked ‘em out. Ol’ Dah says it wouldn’t be fair for me to know an’ not ‘is own son. Wot, I’ve been chompin’ at the bit to hear the story about me famous Uncle Falcon! I’ve only met ‘im when I was a wee lad and don’t remember much. You can call ‘im one o’ me idols, that you can, and it’s tough to know you’re related to such a famous guy and have never seen ‘im,” Phil said with a hurtful sigh. Gisbo glanced at him oddly.

  “Wait, what are you talking about? My dad’s . . . famous?” Gisbo asked. Phil looked at Gisbo as if he had ten heads, and in his drunken haze, he must have.

  “Oy, tell me what you know about your dear ol’ dah,” Phil said. Gisbo thought for a moment before answering.

  “Well, I don’t really know much, except he married Vadid’s daughter and was once Drakeron’s right hand man before he changed,” Gisbo said.

  “Aye, dat’s only the surface. You never knew you had a famous daddy, eh? He never told you anything? Anything at all?” Phil asked with sincerity.

  “About what, exactly? Took him almost a full year before he told me he was my dad in the first place. I think he has a tough time talking about himself, is all, especially to me,” Gisbo said.

  “I can understand such. He’s humble, that he is,” Phil said.

  “Or ashamed,” Gisbo piped in. “What do you know? You gotta tell me, Phil!” Gisbo pleaded.

  “Oy! Keep yer trousers on, dear cousin, ol’ Philly wouldn’t leave ya in the dark! I’ll tell ya what I be knowin’, but it tain’t much. Me thinks only Dah and Grandah know the real story and you’re lucky he wants to share wit’ ya! I’m twenty freakin’ five and he’s told me not a stone of it after so many years o’ beggin’!” Phil said in a huff.

  “Pah, another reason you wanted me to come here so badly,” Gisbo said.

  “I can’t be lying. That be one reason, but it wasn’t the one and only,” Phil said.

  “Okay, just tell me what you know, anything at all, go, go, go!” Gisbo pleaded. Phil leaned back in his chair and began.

  “Mmm, well, like I be sayin’, it tain’t much, but do you know the reason you Renegades split in two?” Phil said.

  “The Strifes’ just different views on things is all I know, different brands of justice,” Gisbo said.

  “Aye, yes, that’d be the main one, but there was an incident that forced ‘em to choose sides. Can you guess what that may be?” Phil asked.

  “Not really,” Gisbo said.

  “Your dear ol’ dah,” Phil said. Gisbo looked puzzled.

  “What are you sayin’?” Gisbo asked.

  “Tink about it. Out of all the Renegades and Strifes, do you know of anyone else dat has the Drakeness flowin’ through ‘em?” Phil said.

  Gisbo sat in silence.

  “Aye, it was a wee bit of a problem. The very ting the Renegades were fightin’ against had now become one of dem. You got to understand that your dah was in ranks with the Renegades before he left to join with Drakearon. It wasn’t the other way around,” Phil said. Gisbo’s eyes went wide.

  “But . . . that makes no sense! Why, why would my dad want to leave them to join with . . .” Gisbo trailed off.

  “I couldn’t tell yah. I can only guess him and Grandah had a falling out. I don’t know anything else about his past or what made him leave, either, just know he did, but that’s where things get good,” Phil said with a smile. Gisbo’s shock suddenly changed to interest.

  “Go ahead,” Gisbo said.

  “Again, don’t know what happened, but your dear ol’ dah had a change of heart once again and decided to turn against Drakearon while still in his ranks,” Phil explained.

  “Hm,” Gisbo said. Phil shook his head.

  “Gizzy, I don’t tink you understand the gravity of dat. Nobody turns against Drakearon with his life still left in ‘em,” Phil said.

  “Are you saying he fought him?” Gisbo asked.

  “Aye, dat is exactly what I be sayin’, and not just Drakearon, but his other two closest followers, and somehow escaped unharmed,” Phil said.

  “Wow,” Gisbo said.

  “Oh, but it gets better, Gizzy. The average bloke would have gone into hiding after such a betrayal against the man who tinks himself a Diety. Poor ol’ Falcon realized his mistake and wanted to return to the Renegades, fresh on the path of redemption. So what did he do? Why, your dear ol’ dah turned assassin and waged a one-man war against Drakearon an’ ‘is twelve by himself,” Phil said.

  “What? But what’s his twelve?” Gisbo said.

  “The most unholy bunch imaginable, Drakeron’s most powerful disciples he surrounded himself with. Some say he searched ‘im out from childhood and raised ‘im ‘imself, so, in many ways, they were like adopted sons an’ daughters to ‘em. They were, argueably, twelve of the greatest fighters on Thera by themselves, but with the Drakeness flowin’ through ‘em, well, you can only imagine their power. But this is why your dear ol’ Dah is famous. Your dear ol’ dah, on his lonesome, hunted down ten of the twelve and killed ‘em by ‘is own sword,” Phil said. Gisbo got goosebumps.

  “You can’t be serious . . .My dad killed ten of the most powerful fighters by . . . himself?” Gisbo asked.

  “That’s right, Gizzy. Did you ever even stop and tink why ol’ Falcon was chosen by Drakearon to be his right hand man? Much as I hate that Drakearon bugger, the turd nugget was powerful! He picked your dah because he was one of the best der ever was!” Phil said. Gisbo slumped in his chair, mixed feelings flowing through him.

  “I had no idea. I knew my dad was strong, but . . . but wow,” Gisbo said. He thought for a moment. “Math’s never been my strong suit, but you said he killed ten of the twe
lve; what happened to the last two guys?” Gisbo asked. Phil threw his hands in the air.

  “Well, remember, Falcon was one o’ the twelve, so you mean last guy, not last two. And that’s just it! Nobody knows what happened to ‘im, not even Falcon, I reckon. After your daddy wiped away the twelve, you can imagine Drakearon wanted his head on a silver dish, so your dah had no choice but to return to the Renegades for protection.

  “He told ‘is story, and it started a long string of arguing that eventually led to a divide in the Renegades. Half of the Renegades wanted to forgive Falcon and ‘elp ‘im get back on his feet, praised ‘im even for takin’ the fight back to Drakeron and doing the unthinkable. The other half, well, saw ‘im as an unpredictable traitor and didn’t want ‘im in their midst, especially one infected with Drakeness, and wanted ‘im put to death. But they contained themselves for the most part, as Falcon had valuable information to put a stop to Drakeron once an’ for always!” Phil said. Gisbo went to speak, but Phil hushed him.

  “Now you know dis part. Vadid comes to power in a divided Flaria after the assassination of their warlord and not only unites Flaria, but breaks through to the other warlords to focus all their attacks on Drakearon. But, yada yada, they win o’ course, Vadid becomes the Man-Phoenix, and sends Drakearon and all his horrible Drakeknights into the Reath and we live in some peace for a little. Until our dear Vadid up and disappears on us. But this is where it gets good,” Phil said. Gisbo laughed at Phil’s constantly repeated line.

  “’Cause it hasn’t been good already?” Gisbo joked.

  “Soon after, Heaven’s Shelter was constructed, after that pusso’ Karm took Vadid’s place and the Renegades left Oak County and moved on, bladade blah, and well, now that peace had come, the Strifes, even though they weren’t called that yet, had a few things to say about your dear ol’ dah sharing bum space with the lot of ‘em. None of ‘em believed anyone could overcome the addictive tendencies of the Drakeness and thought Falcon to be just a tickin’ time bomb of sorts. On top o’ dat, in the Strife’s eyes, any fighter that succumbed to the powers of the Drakeness was considered to be of weak spirit. Well, it just so happened, the event that only comes once every century was set to begin, the Elekai’ Exhibition!” Phil said excidedly, rubbing his hands together.

  “Never heard of it,” Gisbo said. Phil’s head sunk.

  “Gizzy! You ain’t never heard of the Elekai’ Exhibition? It’s only the greatest tournament in the history of Thera! Warlord Karm disbanded the whole thing, the goober, sayin’ he did not wish to promote violence in his kingdom, but that didn’t mean Heaven’s Shelter was about to end the tradition. The Warlords in ancient history came to power in such a fashion and lived relatively apart from each other in isolation. This tourney brought the world together! Guess what fighters made it to the final bouts?” Phil asked. Gisbo smiled.

  “Ah, jeez, I have no idea. All the guys back home are so powerful,” Gisbo said. Phil nodded.

  “How about the names Shax, Purah, Narroway, your dear ol’ dah, Lamik, and a few others? They ring a bell?” Phil said.

  “Wow! What about Moordin or Foxblade?” Gisbo asked.

  “Hmmm, could of, those are the only names I recall, however. I don’t know much about how the fights went, except for the few I mentioned. I know that Narroway and Purah fought each other to a standstill and Purah narrowly defeated him, but the fight took such a toll on Purah. He was too injured to face Falcon in the next round, so Falcon eliminated him,” Phil said.

  “Good, that jerk,” Gisbo said. “So Shax fought Lamik, then?” Gisbo asked.

  “That he did, and Shax got outright robbed when Lamik cheated and won by a technicality. Eventually, the final match came down to your dear ol’ dah and none other than Chieftain Lamik. Talk about exciting, right?” Phil asked.

  “Keep going, don’t stop,” Gisbo said.

  “Well, this is where destiny is funny sometimes, Gizzy. The Strifes wanted Falcon to join in the tourney especially, as a way to prove to the others he did have a weak spirit and there was no way he would be able to not use the Drakeness to win. They believed that was where his powerful fighting skills lay, nowhere else. Lamik was the one who preached this o’specially, the maggot, so you can imagine everyone’s surprise when Falcon did indeed make it to the final matchup WITHOUT usin’ the Drakeness, and had none other than the holier-than-thou Lamik as an opponent,” Phil said. Then he leaned back in his chair and sat in silence.

  “Well? What happened?” Gisbo asked.

  “What? You can’t guess yourself?” Phil asked.

  “Phil!” Gisbo pleaded.

  “Well, what do ya tink happened, cousin? Falcon trounced the bastard without ‘ardly any effort at all, and without usin’ the Drakeness. Your dah was the champion o’ the world, Gizzy,” Phil said. Gisbo smiled hugely and shook his head in disbelief.

  “Something tells me Lamik didn’t take too kindly to this,” Gisbo said.

  “Oh, dat he didn’t. When they returned home, Lamik shouted lies and claimed Falcon did, indeed, use the Drakeness on ‘em. In turn, him and the Strifes tried to execute Falcon, and then, the Strifes were born. It was Renegade versus Strife as half tried to kill your dad and half rose up to defend ‘im. The fighting didn’t stop for some time until Narroway, with a grave face, made a deal with Lamik that none knows about. The fighting stopped, and they went their separate ways,” Phil said.

  “That’s crazy,” Gisbo said.

  “Aye, but der is so many holes in the story I wish I knew! But don’t worry, we’ll plug it from me dah, I know we will. You up for some cards?” Phil asked. Gisbo sat deep in thought.

  “Huh?” Gisbo asked.

  “I said, are ya up for some cards?” Phil said.

  “Oh yeah, yeah, sure,” Gisbo said as they both rose from the table and walked out onto the porch.

  “No drinkin’ for you though, mate, I mean it,” Phil said, pointing.

  “Trust me, you won’t be seeing a mug in my hand anytime soon,” Gisbo said, laughing.

  Falcon . . . Dad . . . who woulda guessed . . . Gisbo thought, and suddenly, without trying, a smile washed across his face with pride that he, Gisbo, came from the same stock.

  Chapter Six: Meet the Strifes . . .

  The next month flew by for Gisbo. He could never have imagined how comfortable he would feel living with his long, lost relatives. During this time, Phil and Gisbo became inseparable, goofing off and getting to know the other Ronigades. However, as much as Gisbo and Phil pressed Douglas, he still remained mum on Falcon’s past. To make things harder, Doug went on errands for several days at a time, sometimes. As much fun as Gisbo was having, he had to admit that, at times, he felt a little homesick for Heaven’s Shelter. All of that was about to change, however.

  The day had finally come for the other Renegaras’ arrival, but instead of waking up in excitement, he awoke to someone’s massive rear end in his face. Suddenly, an equally massive fart erupted from it. Gisbo cursed and clambered his shirt over his face, gagging at the horrible smell encroaching all of his senses.

  “Top of the morning to ya, Gizzy!” said a familiar voice. Gisbo lowered his shirt, not believing what he saw before him. The smell, however, quickly reminded him.

  “Grandfield! You bastard! How ya been, buddy?” Gisbo said. Laughing, he jumped from his bed and embraced Grandfield in a bear hug.

  “Been good, buddy! I’ve been saving that one for months, just for you! And what’s this I hear about you getting here early?” Grandfield asked. Gisbo smiled sheepishly.

  “Yeah, the rumors are true. Turns out I’m a pro fighter!” Gisbo beamed as he fired off a few punches in mid-air. Grandfield brushed out a hand.

  “Pah! Lucky hit, was all. We all managed to hit our Class Masters this week, so all the Flarian Renegaras are here, man! But yeah, guess who’s staying one house down from ya?” Grandfield said with a smile. Gisbo’s eyes lit up.

  “No way . . .” Gisbo said.

  �
��Yeah way! This guy right here! Stayin’ with my Uncle Morry!” Grandfield said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

  “Morry’s your uncle? That’s awesome!” Gisbo said.

  “I wouldn’t know, Gizzy! I just met the guy! Suppose that’s something you gotta get used to, bein’ a Renegade an’ all. But now for the bad news. Guess who’s staying right next to you?” Grandfield said, jerking his thumb to the right.

  “Don’t tell me . . .” Gisbo said with a frown.

  “Yup, you guessed it. Kinny,” Grandfield said. Gisbo breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Well, that’s not too terrible. I thought you were gonna say Glinda or Rake or something,” Gisbo said. Grandfield cocked an impish grin.

  “Sorry, bud, but Rake’s next door to ya on the left,” Grandfield said. Gisbo rolled his eyes.

  “Great . . . and that assface Malik is down on the end. Thank IAM you’re here, at least. I’ve missed you, man!” Gisbo said, slapping Grandfield on the shoulder.

  “Hey! Whadaya mean ‘at least?’ And who’s this Malik character? Can’t be worse than Ranto,” Grandfield asked.

  “I didn’t mean it like that, pal. You know that. And Malik is a Strife and, well, in my eyes, he just might surpass Ranto in a butthole contest,” Gisbo said. Grandfield’s eyes went wider.

  “Wow, that’s saying a lot . . . I’m sure I’ll love the guy just as much as you, then. I already got a glimpse of some of the Strife kids. There’s five of ‘em, all guys and all with faces that are just asking to be punched in. You should have seen the looks they were giving Kinny and Glinda, all of ‘em yuckin’ it up. I thought Kinny was gonna blow her top,” Grandfield said.

  “Looks like she’s learned a bit of patience, too. She’ll get her chance. My cousin Phil tells me it’s almost certain we’ll get to fight with them. Malik’s mine, though, I’m calling him,” Gisbo said, thrusting a thumb into his chest. Grandfield pumped his large fists together.

  “I don’t care who I get to fight, long as it’s a Strife,” Grandfield said.