Williams, D M - Renegade Chronicles [Collection 1-3]

by David Michael Williams

She grabbed the midge by his collar, pulling his face up to hers. Noel’s eyes went wide in astonishment, the tips of his toes barely touching the ground.

  “Just do something!”

  Opal let Noel fall back on his heels. She was about to run over to the Renegades’ unguarded supplies, where she hoped to find her quiver, but froze when her eyes met Othello’s.

  The archer didn’t move. He didn’t have to. While his gaze was locked on her, the tip of his arrow pointed lower—at Noel.

  Without taking the time to think, Opal stepped in front of Noel. “You have time for one spell…make it quick!”

  She heard the drone of Noel’s chanting but never took her eyes off of Othello. The Renegade’s arrow pointed at her heart. She waited for the telling twang of the bowstring, the flash of starlight reflecting off an arrowhead in flight. She imagined she could see the archer’s bright green eyes despite the darkness.

  Then the air began to stir around her, and she saw nothing at all.

  Passage IX

  Horcalus had managed to land a few hits, but each blow was deflected by the curious armor his adversary wore. The short, stocky warrior was possessed of an impressive strength and fought in the manner not at all like the Knights of Superius.

  If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn he was trading blows with a dwarf.

  The keen edge of the axe grazed his arm, bringing Horcalus’s full attention back to the battle. Had he been any slower, he might have lost the limb altogether.

  Grimacing against the pain, Horcalus capitalized on the opening in his opponent’s defense, thrusting his longsword into the crease between his opponent’s helm and breastplate. The two pieces of armor apparently overlapped, however, for again his sword was stopped short of striking flesh.

  Horcalus pulled back, ready to dodge. He dared not parry that great axe, not trusting his strength against that of his enemy. He might deflect the blow, but in the end, the repeated collision of battle-axe and longsword would wear him out. As he again avoided the fall of the crescent blade, he looked for a weakness in his opponent’s equipment.

  He saw no straps or buckles, no unprotected areas whatsoever to exploit. The suit of armor appeared almost seamless in places, as though it were the warrior’s second skin. Just what kind of Crypt-spawn am I fighting, Horcalus wondered.

  If he didn’t disarm his opponent soon, he wouldn’t survive the battle. He gave ground, putting space between them and silently urging the creature to gain momentum. He wanted his adversary to become bolder, needed him to take wider, wilder swings. Timing was everything, and if he failed in this, he wouldn’t live long enough to regret it.

  His body tense, Horcalus awaited the right moment.

  But then the horn-helmeted warrior disappeared, along with everything else.

  Horcalus feared he had gone blind—or worse. The cold moisture against his face told him he was still very much alive. He heard his opponent let out a frustrating growl. Although they were but a few feet apart, Horcalus could see nothing through the thick, dark fog engulfing them.

  Confused shouts and cries erupted from all around as the black mist blanketed the battlefield. Abandoning the axe-wielder, Horcalus took a few tentative steps in the direction he had last seen Klye and Arthur. Seconds later, he heard the Renegade Leader calling out to his men, rallying them to his position.

  Horcalus sighed but obeyed. He could hardly believe he was willingly rejoining the rebellion. But after what he had witnessed that day—the Knights’ inclusion of a midge in their ranks—he could no longer deny the Knights of Superius had truly changed for the worse.

  * * *

  An enormous black cloud churned toward Colt, and the distraction almost cost him his life. At the last second, he brought Chrysaal-rûn up to deflect the female Renegade’s thrust. Then the miasma surrounded them, and he lost sight of his opponent entirely.

  He feared that the thick fog was a Renegade trick, but when the woman warrior gasped, he realized she was as baffled as he was. Colt took a few steps back just in case she decided to blindly slash into the darkness. However, the sound of retreating footsteps told him she was retreating.

  “Commander, are you out there?” The voice came from off to his right.

  “I’m over here, Zeke. Follow my voice,” he shouted back. “Sir Wessner?”

  When no answer came, he called out again, trying to recall where the Knight had been before the darkness besieged them.

  “I am here, Commander,” Sir Wessner replied a moment later. He was farther away than Zeke had been, but his voice grew louder as he neared. “What is that strange light? Is that your sword?”

  Colt had lowered his weapon when the fog engulfed him. Glancing down at the crystal sword, he saw that it was indeed shedding a dull bluish light. He nearly dropped it in surprise.

  Slowly, he brought Chrysaal-rûn up before his face, searching for the source of the illumination. The ancient weapon’s glass-like blade glowed as thought an azure flame flickered within. He touched the blade with one finger, expecting to find it hot, but the smooth blade was as cool as ever.

  Colt never doubted the crystal sword was a unique weapon—the transparent blade alone made it so—but now he suspected there was more to Chrysaal-rûn than anyone, his grandfather included, had ever supposed. He recalled slicing through one rebel’s short sword and wondered what else the crystal sword could do.

  What if all of the legends were true?

  Tucking the mystery away, Colt raised Chrysaal-rûn above his head and waved it like a signal torch.

  “Follow the light,” he bade his companions.

  Zeke and Sir Wessner soon found their way to him. If they were curious about the limited illumination provided by Chrysaal-rûn, they left their questions unspoken. Colt tried to keep his voice steady as he shouted for Opal, Cholk, and Noel and tried not to think about what could have happened to them.

  A few minutes later, he was startled by a deep voice a few feet ahead of them. “Give it a rest before I go deaf as well as blind.”

  “Cholk! Thank the gods you’re all right,” Colt said.

  “It would take more than a handful of humans to bring me down,” Cholk promised.

  In Chrysaal-rûn’s glow, Colt made out Cholk’s stout frame as he came to a halt before the Knights. A taller, slender figure stood beside him. The woman’s fiery hair looked almost purple in the sword-light, and her fair skin resembled that of a frostbitten corpse.

  But just then, Colt thought he had never seen Opal look more beautiful.

  “Thank the gods,” he repeated.

  Colt almost scooped her up in an embrace before catching himself. She smiled at him. He would have been content to stare into her eyes for the remainder of the night, but he was very aware of the others around them. “We need to get out of this haze. Can you see through it, Cholk?”

  “I’m afraid not. If not for that blue light, we probably never would’ve found you. What we need is for that twice-damned midge to null his spell.”

  Colt looked heavenward and closed his eyes. He hadn’t even considered Noel was responsible for the chaos.

  “Noel was right next to me when the fog came,” Opal said, “but when I reached out for him, he was already gone.”

  “Where could he have gotten off to?” Zeke Silvercrown asked.

  As if on cue, the gloom parted around them, and they were found themselves in a pocket where the light of the moon and stars could reach them. The black mist continued to swirl around them, but it was held at bay by invisible walls. And in that eye of the storm, as it were, walked Noel.

  When he finished adjusting the drooping brim of his hat and saw everyone staring at him, his face lit up like a child’s on Winter Solstice morn. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you guys. You weren’t leaving without me, were you? And after everything I did to help rescue Opal! The least you could say is, ‘Thank you for using your magic to save us, Noel.’ But no—”

  “Noel,” Colt barked, “
did you summon this fog?”

  Beaming proudly, the midge said, “I sure did.”

  “But why?” Colt asked.

  Noel frowned as he considered the question. “I didn’t want Klye’s friends to hurt you guys, so I cast a spell that would make it impossible for them to fight you anymore. And it worked! Now can we please go back to Fort Faith and tell Lieutenant Grouchy about how I heroically saved the day?”

  “How can we go anywhere when we can’t see where we’re headed?” Cholk gestured at the fog around them with his battle-axe. The crescent blade came perilously close to Noel’s head. “Can you make it go away or what?”

  Noel looked taken aback by the question. “Of course I can, but then the bad guys might come back.”

  Cholk looked ready to take a swing at Noel, so Colt quickly interjected. “The battle is over. Unless I’m mistaken, the Renegades are long gone. We have what we came for, Noel. It’s time to go home.”

  “So now I’m a ‘what’?” Opal asked incredulously, hands on her hips.

  Colt felt his face grow warm. “You know what I mean. Noel, would you please get rid of the fog?”

  Shrugging his small shoulders, Noel made a simple gesture with his left hand and muttered something Colt couldn’t make out. The magical shroud instantly vanished. The moonlit countryside stretched before them.

  Colt had the sensation he had just stepped out of a tunnel. Trying to orientate himself, he scanned the area around them and found the hill where the Renegade archer had been positioned. The remnants of broken weapons and armor marked the spot where he, Zeke, and Sir Wessner had fought the rebels’ front line. But the Renegades were not to be found.

  Part of him was disappointed the rebels had escaped, one and all, but that regret was buried beneath his relief to have Opal back safely at his side. They had accomplished what they had set out to do, and no one had gotten badly wounded in the process.

  Recalling the fate of his late cousin, Colt knew returning home with all allies alive and well was no small victory.

  He wasted no time in setting their course, using the Star of the North to guide them back to Fort Faith. Other than Noel, who busied himself with composing a song about their recent adventure, everyone walked in silence, lost in his or her private thoughts.

  Colt was already making plans to track down the Renegades. But when he felt Opal’s hand on his arm, he was more than happy to set aside his plotting for the moment.

  “I want to thank you for coming for me.” Her voice was as serious as Colt had ever heard it. Then she winked and added, “I would have tried harder to evade capture, but I wanted an excuse to see you in action. We wouldn’t want you…or your armor…to get rusty from inactivity, would we? ”

  Colt tried his best not to grin. “Perhaps I ought to invite a few more midge to stay at the fort. Then you’ll never have to worry about a night passing without excitement.”

  Her laugh eased the tensions of the trying night, and he no longer cared about the Renegades, the mischievous midge, or what Petton was going to say when Noel returned to the fort with them. That Opal was alive and well was all that mattered.

  He silently vowed to be her protector for as long as the gods allowed—and he prayed she would deign to stay at Fort Faith forevermore.

  “By the way, what ever happened with Albert?” he asked.

  She chuckled again. “You’re not going to believe this, but I think Noel was right about him. I overheard the Renegades discussing their encounter with a wizard named Albert Simplington.”

  Colt was too stunned to say anything, but Noel’s song suddenly contained a lyric that sounded suspiciously like “I told you so.”

  “I learned quite a bit about the rebels when I was with them,” Opal continued. “Their leader is a man named Klye Tristan—”

  Noel stopped mid-stride and nearly fell flat on his face when the toe of his shoe got caught in the hem of his robe. “So you know Klye too?” he asked Opal.

  “You could say that,” Opal replied. “How do you know him?”

  “He’s an old friend of mine.” Noel wormed his way between her and Colt, who reluctantly made room for the midge. “Actually, Klye and I didn’t get along all that well. He was always picking on me. But Zack and Earl were there to keep him in line. You see, we had to work as a team in order to save the world from a bunch of scary fiends.”

  Cholk gave Colt an exasperating look.

  “I’m telling the truth!” Noel insisted. “You believe me, don’t you, Opal?”

  Opal gave the midge a reassuring smile before saying, “Noel did use Klye’s name on the battlefield. And the Renegade Leader seemed quite surprised to see him.”

  Cholk shot the woman an amazed look. “Wouldn’t you be surprised if a midge appeared out of thin air and attacked you? I, for one, refuse to believe a midge and a Renegade saved Altaerra from certain doom.”

  “He wasn’t a Renegade back then,” Noel argued. “He was a thief. We all had to use our talents to save the world. And it wasn’t Altaerra. It was some other world. I can’t remember the name of it, but I don’t think the gods want me to remember. It was like a secret mission. The gods brought us back to Altaerra once our work was done. What I can’t figure out is why Klye would have gone back to being a bad guy after being a good guy for so long.”

  Cholk let out a thunderous guffaw. “His brain is more scrambled than an omelet!”

  Behind them, the two Knights failed to completely muffle their laughter.

  “I’m telling the truth!” Noel cried. “Why doesn’t anyone ever believe me?”

  The midge stomped away to pout at the edge of the group. Colt couldn’t deny Noel was an enigma. The fact he believed himself the pantheon’s personal champion cast his credibility into doubt.

  But if Noel had been right about Albert—a mystery in of himself—might the midge be speaking the truth about Klye Tristan? Noel’s tales were too preposterous to believe, and yet Colt was beginning to think there was at least a seed of truth in everything he said.

  As for removing that kernel from the fabrications and exaggerations surrounding it…

  Colt wondered if he should bother sorting through everything Noel “knew” about the Renegade Leader. In the end, he knew that he had to try. As Noel, his spirits apparently on the rise, whistled a monotone ditty, Colt let out another sigh.

  It wasn’t as though Noel had any intention of leaving Fort Faith anyway.

  * * *

  The first rays of dawn were creeping into the eastern skies when the Renegades stopped to make camp. Theirs had been an uneventful hike through the foothills of the Rocky Crags and then into the mountains themselves. Whatever energy hadn’t been sapped by the unexpected skirmish with the Knights had been spent by the hours of walking and climbing that followed.

  The band of nine veritably collapsed upon reaching the spot Scout had chosen. The ground was hard but mostly flat. Jagged walls of rock rose around them at varying heights, concealing them from searching eyes and protecting them from the powerful gusts that seemed to shake the mountains.

  Klye decided to keep two people on watch at all times. He didn’t expect the Knights would come looking for them so soon, but he wouldn’t take chances. The Knights of Superius had caught him off guard once. He vowed to be ready for their second meeting.

  Besides, there were other threats to watch out for, including mountain lions, bears, and the wizard Albert.

  Tired though he was, Klye took first watch. His body was exhausted, and his head hurt where Red had kicked him, but he knew his busy mind wouldn’t let him fall asleep. Horcalus volunteered to join him.

  The rogue knight had kept his distance during their trek into the Rocky Crags, and Klye had been content to let him sort things out in his own way. But it was time to settle things once and for all.

  Wrapped in a thick coat he had found in one of Port Stone’s deserted homes, Horcalus sat on a flat outcropping. For a moment, Klye just stared at the man, who, in turn, star
ed out at the valley below. With his piercing gray eyes and his sharp beak of a nose, Horcalus resembled of a bird of prey, though Klye suspected Horcalus was seeing more than the quiet landscape.

  “I take it the Knights didn’t like what you had to say.” Klye kept his tone light, using humor to mask his discomfort.

  Horcalus kept on looking down at the valley. When he spoke, his voice was so quiet, so serious, Klye immediately regretted his flippant comment.

  “I never made it to Fort Faith,” Horcalus said. “Deep down, I knew you were right. I knew I would be throwing my life away if I went to the Knights. Anger blinded my reason…or maybe a part of me did not care if they killed me. Regardless, I regret how I have treated you and the others.”

  Klye didn’t know what to say. He realized, then, how little he knew Dominic Horcalus. He had become friends with Ragellan during their short time together, but while he had always valued Horcalus’s prowess in battle, not to mention how he followed orders without question, Klye had never treated Horcalus as a confidant.

  With the exception of Arthur, Horcalus had distanced himself from the other members of the band. Klye had dismissed Horcalus’s aloofness as a manifestation of the man’s pride, but he was beginning to see there was more to it than that. If Horcalus felt as though he didn’t belong with the Renegades, Klye was as much to blame as the rogue knight.

  “And I regret how the Renegades have treated you…how I have treated you,” Klye said. “I should have been more considerate of your situation. You never wanted to join the rebellion. Every day you spend with us must rub your conscience the wrong way.”

  “It is not easy for me to be at odds with the laws I swore to enforce, but you lead your band with a kind of honor I have come to respect.” Horcalus looked Klye in the eyes. “I did not like you from the start, Klye. I did not want to like you, for in doing so, I would have to admit the line separating good and evil is not as absolute as I had always believed. However, I am beginning to see what Ragellan saw in you…and why he chose to follow you out of Superius.”