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

by David Michael Williams

  The Knight shook his head. “We must make for Fort Faith with all haste.”

  Having said that, Stannel took the liberty of instructing the horses to start up again. The Knight steered the wagon onto the overgrown path. Not trusting himself to address the man in a remotely civil tone—Mitto was not accustomed to taking orders from anyone, and he certainly was not used to anyone else guiding his wagon—he turned to face Aric.

  “Do you know why we’re going to Fort Faith?”

  The woman nodded.

  “We aren’t going there so that Toemis can see the place one last time before he croaks, are we?”

  Aric narrowed her eyes and looked annoyed at his heartless reference to Toemis’s suffering. Then the healer’s face eased back into her typical expression—a paradox of power and passivity. “No, I don’t suppose that is the only reason.”

  Feeling more frustrated by the second, Mitto straightened himself in the seat and scowled out at the encroaching trees. He couldn’t decide which was more irritating—Toemis’s statements, which could be all lies, or Stannel and Aric’s honesty when withholding information from him.

  Either way you look at it, I’m in the dark, he decided. Whatever it is that’s got everyone rushing to Fort Faith had better be damn worth it!

  * * *

  Else didn’t make it to the market that day. When her guests finally dragged themselves down into the common room, she apologized profusely and told them they would have to find their meal someplace other than Someplace Else.

  Fortunately, not a one of them had any interest in staying a second night, so following closely on the heels of the last guest, she wrapped a shawl around her and left the inn.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she had closed down so early in the day. When she turned the key and heard the bolt slide home, she felt a shudder run through her. I’ll be back, she told herself. This isn’t goodbye.

  Thrusting the key into the pocket of her jacket, she cast a look back at Someplace Else and started to run down the street toward the center of town, where the ivory spires of the Celestial Palace glinted in the morning light.

  As she hurried down one avenue after another, the words of Loony Gomez bounced around in her brain. “The fate of Rydah may rest on yer pretty li’l shoulders,” he had said, and she had almost laughed in his face, certain that Gomez was inebriated. She had humored him by listening to his outrageous tale, smiling politely.

  But slowly, her smile had faded…

  “The first thing ya got t’ know is I was once part of the Guild.”

  There had been no reason to ask Gomez which guild he meant. Whenever someone spoke of the Guild in Rydah, he or she was most certainly referring to the Thief Guild. The thought of Loony Gomez stumbling through the streets, trying to cut purse strings with his unsteady hands almost had her laughing out loud.

  “I was with the Guild for many a year…most of m’life, in fact. When the Renegades started poppin’ up in Rydah, we were content to leave ’em alone, ignorin’ them so long as they ignored us. Their business was none of our concern, an’ for nearly a year, the two organizations stayed outta each other’s way.

  “But after a while, not long ago, the Renegade Leader of Rydah requested a meetin’ with the Guildmaster. The Renegades wanted t’ join forces with the Guild in order t’ boost their numbers…and t’ fund their war, I’d wager.

  “The Guildmaster wanted nothin’ to do with the rebels, though. The Guild had always been ’bout one thing and one thing only. Profit. An’ the Guild was always at its best in times of peace and prosperity. A’ready there were more Knights in Rydah, thanks t’ the Renegades.

  “So the Guildmaster refused the Renegade Leader, an’ that shoulda been that since the Guildmaster speaks for all the Guild. But there was a guildsman who’d been waitin’ for his chance t’ take over. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to do, an’ when he declared his allegiance t’ the Renegades, a bunch of the others with him.

  “Now the punishment for leavin’ the Guild had always been a swift death so as t’ maintain secrecy, ya understand. But the Guild couldn’t manage so many quitters at one time. An’ besides, they had the Renegades on their side. The Guild was forced t’ disband for the first time in over two hundred years.”

  At this point in his story, Else had still thought Gomez was making it all, piecing together various rumors that had been circulating throughout the capital quicker than counterfeit coin.

  “What’s so bad about that?” she had demanded. “The death of the Guild sounds like good news to me. Anyway, you have no proof anything you’ve said is true. I see you as a retired shoemaker or maybe a washed-up bard, but I can’t picture you as a thief, Gomez.”

  “That’s the best kind of thief,” Gomez had replied with a wink.

  She had rolled her eyes. “I think it’s time for you to leave. Thanks for the story, but—”

  “Six years ago your inn was robbed. There were no signs of a break in, but the chest you keep hidden under the floorboard behind the bar was emptied of its contents…a sum of nineteen pieces of silver and thirty-eight coppers. But your personal savings, which you keep secreted inside your mattress, was not touched.”

  Else had been so shaken, she hadn’t even notice how much his style of speech had changed.

  “How…how do you know that?”

  Gomez had smiled sadly. “Everything I told you is true, Else. And the worst has yet to be said.”

  She had had so many questions. Had Gomez personally burgled her inn those many years ago? Where was the fabled Hall of Thieves located? What was the name of Rydah’s mysterious Renegade Leader? How many rebels were there?

  But then Gomez had continued, more hurried than before.

  “I have reason to believe the Renegades are preparing for a coup d’état.” He had pressed on despite her gasp. “I don’t know the specifics, but I do know when. This evening, when the sun dips below the western wall, the rebels will start the attack from within.

  “Some of them will make for the Celestial Palace. Others will concentrate on the city’s gates, making sure they remain open…and securing a route for forces waiting outside of the city.”

  “Forces? What kind of forces?”

  “I cannot say,” Gomez had replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “It took some trouble to learn as much as I have. Maybe there is a Renegade battalion hidden in the forests outside Rydah. There has been talk of a Renegade Leader newly arrived from Continae. Maybe he brought an army with him. I honestly don’t know, and I don’t intend to stick around and find out.

  “If you have any brains in that pretty head of yours, you’ll do the same…after you alert the Knights, of course. I’d do it myself, but I simply can’t risk it.”

  Else had already made up her mind to take up the mission—crazy though it sounded—but she had had to ask at least one question before Loony Gomez disappeared from her life forever.

  “Why tell me any this? If you were once a member of the Guild, why do you care if the Knights, your sworn enemies, are prepared for a coup?”

  Gomez had taken a few steps toward the door before answering. “Even if I didn’t have a reason to hate the Renegades, I’d never sit idly by as Rydah was sacked. I may be a thief, but Rydah is my home too.”

  Then Gomez exited the inn without looking back, leaving the proprietress of Someplace Else to consider his warnings and begin preparing for her first—and perhaps last—trip to the Celestial Palace.

  Passage XI

  Her thoughts aflutter, Else ran as fast as legs would carry her toward the Celestial Palace. If she could get word to the Knights, maybe the Renegades could be stopped before the capital was besieged.

  The burden of such a great and unwelcome responsibility weighed heavily on her. She was a simple innkeeper, for gods’ sakes!

  Else pushed past people in her way, plunging through the crowds and dashing dangerously in front of oncoming vehicles. When she was nearly run over by a wagon, she
forced herself to take a deep breath and continue at a safer pace. It wouldn’t do the city any good if she were trampled on her way to the palace—except for the Renegades.

  Now that she was paying more attention to her surroundings, she thought she saw rebels everywhere. Neighbors and strangers alike seemed to harbor sinister intentions. You’ve never been one to let your imagination run wild, Else Fontane, so don’t start now, she silently scolded.

  Even if some of the rebels were walking the street just then, none of them knew what she knew.

  Or did they? Might someone have seen Loony Gomez leave Someplace Else that morning? Perhaps she was being followed at that very moment…

  She glanced over her shoulder several times, but no one appeared to be stalking her. Refusing to give into her paranoia, she kept her eyes fixed on the towering Celestial Palace at the city’s center. Anyway, she doubted the Renegades would make a move against her in broad daylight.

  But with an army hiding outside the city, who could say how bold they had become?

  Her legs were starting to ache, but she ignored the pain. If only Mitto were here, she thought. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with this alone. And I’d be much more comfortable in that old wagon. We’d probably already be at the Celestial Palace.

  She had worried about Mitto ever since he left Rydah with Toemis Blisnes, but now a part of her was grateful the man was far from the city, far from danger.

  Unless, of course, Baxter was right, and Toemis Blisnes really was the new Renegade Leader in Capricon. For all she knew, Mitto was being held prisoner in some Renegade army camp.

  By the time she reached that broad stairway that climbed from the street up to the tall arches of the palace’s main entrance, Else thought she might collapse. Her legs were shaky, and her heart pounded in her breast. Staring up at the steps, she wondered if she had ever gotten so much exercise in one day.

  She had made it halfway up the stairway before she noticed the sentries flanking each of the three arches. When she reached the top, the two guards at the central arch broke away from their posts and approached her.

  “Good day, madam,” one said. “What business have you at the Celestial Palace today?”

  The sentry’s voice was polite, but Else noticed how the two of them had casually blocked her path. Aside from their open-faced helms, whatever other armor the men wore was hidden beneath resplendent surcoats of red and gold, which distinguished them as palace guards. Both guards carried halberds, with swords hanging at their sides.

  Else couldn’t decide if these men were actual Knights of Superius or if they had come from the pool of lesser soldiers that supplemented the Knights’ regiments. Not that it made much of difference.

  “I have an urgent message for Lord Minus,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster.

  The sentries shared a glance. The man who had spoken earlier smiled amiably and said, “The Lord of Capricon is a very busy man, but we would be happy to pass along your message.”

  Else felt her cheeks burn. Maybe they would pass on her warning to their commanding officer, but then again, maybe they wouldn’t. That wasn’t good enough, not today when so much—including the lives of these two idiots—was riding on her.

  If Baxter hadn’t followed after Mitto, she might have gone to him, but as it was, she was left with one option.

  “I am a personal friend of High Commander Bryant Walden,” she announced. “Please tell me where I can find him.”

  The two sentries shared another glance.

  “High Commander Walden is also a busy man,” said the same guard as before. “If you would please give us your message, I give my word that we will deliver—”

  “I will not! I have sensitive information that is for more important ears than yours. So if you will not take me to Lord Minus or Sir Walden, I will wait here until one of them passes by.”

  Without preamble, she lowered herself to ground. Her back erect and legs folded, she sat in the middle of the marble walkway and regarded the sentries smugly.

  She had no idea if Magnes Minus or Bryant Walden ever used this egress, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t be waiting there long.

  Ignoring the flustered guards’ glares, she said, “If you wish, I can sing while we wait. Some say I have the most beautiful voice in all of Rydah.”

  She was bluffing—she couldn’t carry a tune to save her life—but her words had the desired effect. One of the men swore softly and called back to the other sentries.

  “Get the sergeant!” he barked and then turned back to Else. “We’ll let him decide what to do with you.”

  Else shrugged unconcernedly. She wasn’t cowed by them. She’d tell the sergeant exactly what she told the sentries. Sooner or later they would bring her to the High Commander just to get rid of her.

  She just hoped that by the time she finished jumping through bureaucratic hoops, her information wouldn’t be old news.

  * * *

  Ruben shared Mitto’s disappointment when he learned they weren’t stopping at Fort Valor. For one thing, he was sick of getting jostled around in the back of the wagon, and for another, he was worried that the goblins would make another attempt at exterminating them.

  He had been looking forward to reaching Fort Valor, if only to surround himself by more warriors and to place walls of stone between him and the goblins. He knew nothing of the Commander of Fort Faith, his future jailer.

  Ruben couldn’t guess why they had forsaken Stannel’s stronghold for Fort Faith, but unlike Mitto, he didn’t put the question into words. In fact, he hadn’t said more than two words all day. The Knight who kept watch out the back paid him no mind whatsoever. Ruben might as well have been a barrel of flour or a sack of potatoes.

  It was almost as though he had become invisible without the benefit of magic.

  Aric spent most of her time looking out the front of the wagon and chatting with Stannel. Ruben wished he were as comfortable talking with the woman as Stannel was. He wondered what, exactly, the nature of their relationship was. Were the commander and healer merely colleagues, or was there more to it than that?

  When she wasn’t keeping the commander company, Sister Aric looked after her patient. Toemis still hadn’t awoken by the time they stopped for lunch, which had consisted of nothing more than hardtack. Aric had poured trickles of water down Toemis’s throat, whispering words Ruben couldn’t quite hear.

  The healer took good care of her patient, and in spite of Toemis’s age and his injuries, Ruben actually envied the old man. What he wouldn’t have given to receive that much attention from Aric. As it was, he dared not engage her in even the most trivial of banter, lest he inadvertently reveal his lie.

  At one point, Toemis began to toss his head from side to side. He moaned and even muttered in his restless sleep. Most of what the old man said was nonsense, as far as Ruben could tell, but there were some actual words mixed in with the gibberish. More than once, Toemis uttered the name Julian, or maybe it was Julia. Ruben couldn’t be certain, but there was no mistaking the old man’s words when he suddenly sat straight up, opened his eyes to reveal just the whites, and looked straight through Ruben.

  “It’ll all be over soon. I have come to make amends.”

  Then Toemis fell back down to the bedroll.

  Ruben nearly fainted himself. The episode had been haunting, surreal, and even though the old man had been in the grip of a fever dream—or so Aric said—he thought there was something frighteningly prophetic about Toemis’s declaration.

  The healer mopped Toemis’s brow and whispered reassuringly into his ear. Aric’s touch seemed to calm the old man, who settled back into a deep sleep, but not before saying “Julia”—or was it “Julian”?—twice more.

  After making sure Toemis was resting comfortably, Aric crept over to sit beside the little girl, who hadn’t removed her heavy cloak even when the noonday sun had heated up the wagon like an oven. Aric told the child her grandfather would be all right and wrappe
d her in a hug.

  While the girl didn’t pull away, she didn’t exactly return the embrace either. Ruben wasn’t able to see her face, mostly because of the hood, but nothing he had witnessed in the little girl indicated she was upset about her grandfather. Come to think of it, she hadn’t even flinched when Toemis sat up and spoke.

  The more Ruben thought about her, the more he was certain there was something a bit off about the girl. He was still staring at the child, enveloped in Aric’s arms, when the girl quickly—and none too gently—extracted herself from the healer and scooted to the rear of the wagon to sit beside the Knight.

  Ruben had just enough time to exchange a baffled look with Aric before the Knight let out a startled cry. He and Aric turned their heads as one in the direction of the soldier and the little girl, who kneeled unnoticed at the Knight’s side.

  “Goblins!” cried the Knight. “Coming fast!”

  * * *

  Else had had to speak to not only a sergeant, but also a captain before she was allowed to enter the Celestial Palace. She had told both men the same thing—she had important news for Lord Minus and High Commander Bryant that could not wait for an appointment and she would not leave until she was granted an audience with one of them.

  The captain had gone so far as to threaten to throw her in a cell for disturbing the peace, but Else had only repeated she was a personal friend of Sir Bryant—an exaggeration, to be sure—and that any harsh treatment of her would result in the most dire of demotions.

  The captain had not been impressed by her threat, but clearly the man had had his fill of Else Fontane.

  “If she’s such a good friend of the Knights, let them deal with her,” the captain muttered. “Take her to Lieutenant Ahern.”

  She recognized the name. Baxter had often griped about Vearghal Ahern, his archrival and antithesis. According to Baxter, Ahern was the most rigid and impossibly proper Knight in all of the Order. Now it seemed she was going to meet the Immovable Tower in person, though she wasn’t sure whether she should be satisfied with herself for getting past the threshold or disappointed in reaching what might end up being the equivalent of a stone wall.