It was a logical argument, but…
“If we don’t send Knights to Rydah, who will go?”
Immediately after uttering the question, Colt realized he already knew the answer.
“You have come to trust the Renegades because they want to defeat the goblins as badly as you do,” Stannel said. “Well, now is the time to put your faith to the test.”
Colt couldn’t find the words to speak.
Stannel got to his feet. “The fate of Capricon may well rest in the hands of our former enemies.”
Passage VIII
Klye hid his surprise when Lieutenant Petton and two other Knights arrived to escort him from the infirmary. Petton led the way, not bothering to see if his prisoner was keeping up. The Knights who flanked him took hold of his arms, a position that simultaneously supported and confined him.
Perhaps Colt has decided to toss me in the dungeon after all, Klye thought.
He allowed the Knights to guide him down one passage after another and was relieved when Petton went up a flight of stairs rather than down. While he knew little about fort’s layout, he was certain that the dungeon was somewhere below.
But he refused to give Petton the satisfaction of asking where they were going.
The lieutenant, for his part, seemed distracted. He hadn’t even taken the time to glare at him. Petton led him into a room where Colt was sitting behind an unremarkable desk. Aside from Petton, who had initially questioned him and threw the occasional derogatory comment his way, Colt was the only Knight at the fort who ever spoke with him.
He wondered why Colt hadn’t come for him himself but was prepared to wait for an answer.
A second man sat off to the side, not beside Colt, but not quite facing him either. The man regarded Klye impassively as the two Knights lowered him into an empty chair. Colt then dismissed the men, though, to Klye’s disappointment, Petton was allowed to remain.
The three of them—Colt, Petton, and the mystery man—stared at him in silence for a moment. Klye was accustomed to the lieutenant’s hard stares, and he thought he knew where he stood with Colt, so he concentrated on the third man, returning the man’s gaze with a scrutinizing stare of his own.
The man was dressed like a Knight, bedecked in plate armor with a hefty sword strapped to his back. Judging by the white in his hair and the few wrinkles near his eyes and mouth, Klye guessed he was quite a few years older than Colt.
“Commander,” Colt said to the man, “this is Klye Tristan, the Renegade Leader of which I have told you. Klye, this Sir Stannel Bismarc, Commander of Fort Valor.”
Before Klye could reply, the older man said, “I am the former Commander of Fort Valor. Fort Valor has been destroyed by the goblins.”
Klye listened in mute wonder as Stannel recounted his hasty ride to Fort Valor yesterday and the macabre sight that met him when he finally reached his destination. While T’slect had told them the goblins were planning to invade Capricon, Klye never expected the invasion to come so swiftly—or so devastatingly.
“We have no way of knowing whether the goblins have attacked the capital yet,” Stannel was saying, “or even if Lord Minus is aware of the invaders. But if Capricon is to prevail, we must get word to Rydah and coordinate our efforts.”
All right, Klye thought, that makes sense. But what does any of this have to do with me?
“I’m no military strategist,” Klye said, “but I’ve had a few clashes with the goblins. I’ll tell you whatever I can if it’ll help.”
“Your help is indeed essential,” Stannel said, “but story telling is not what we had in mind.”
Klye mulled over the cryptic words, looking at Colt for some help. The young commander had said nothing since introducing him to Stannel, and even now he seemed reluctant to speak. Klye found Colt’s silent stare unnerving. What? Klye wondered. Do I have something hanging from my nose?
Finally, Colt let out a long breath and spoke. “With Fort Valor…gone, Fort Faith is the only strictly martial fortification left in this region. Rydah may have many more Knights in its garrison, but those soldiers are burdened with defending a large civilian population. Even if Rydah has escaped the goblins’ attention thus far, the capital alone cannot hope to protect the other towns of eastern Capricon.”
“All right…” Klye drawled, prodding Colt to get to the point.
“Because Fort Faith has become…quite unexpectedly, a key factor in the island’s security, we cannot reduce our already insufficient numbers by sending Knights away from their post, even though we must get word to Rydah of what has occurred at Fort Valor.”
Then it became perfectly clear.
“You need expendable soldiers to take on this all-important-yet-incredibly-dangerous mission,” Klye deduced. “And you have my Renegades in mind for the job.”
Colt said nothing, but Petton’s scowl told Klye he had hit the mark. He glanced at Stannel, wondering where the former commander’s opinion lay, but Stannel’s features had not altered one way or another. He continued to stare at Klye, perhaps waiting for him to say more.
Colt also looked expectant and perhaps unsure whether he was doing the right thing—not that Klye could blame him.
“You know I want to do my part,” Klye said. “I have a score to settle with T’slect and all goblins, for that matter. We all do. But as you can see, I’m in no position to go traipsing around the war-torn countryside on a suicide mission.”
“I thought suicide missions were right up your alley,” Petton muttered.
Colt raised a hand to silence the lieutenant and, likely, to stay Klye’s sarcastic reply. When the young commander spoke again, his voice was softer. “I know you are still too weak to take on such an arduous task, Klye, though both of us wish you weren’t. There’s no way you can go to Rydah, but there are members of your band who are in better condition, warriors who might help us if you gave them your blessing.”
My blessing? Klye scoffed inwardly. I’m their leader, not their god. Still, he knew his Renegades were a loyal lot, and some of them wouldn’t comply with the Knights’ requests unless they knew he had sanctioned it.
But Klye also knew Colt was asking for more than his permission.
He decided to press his luck.
“I’ll do whatever I can,” he replied. “As you well know, my men tire of wasting away in this old fort. Most of them are itching for another chance to fight the goblins. My men are few, but they are capable…the fact that we’re all still alive is proof of that. But we work best as a team. Granted, I won’t be able to join them all on this quest, but—”
“They are not all going,” Petton said flatly.
Klye glared at the lieutenant but bit back a sharp retort. He wouldn’t let the antagonistic Gaelor Petton bait him into an argument. He was finally in a position to help his Renegades, the men—and woman—who had risked their very lives under his command. It was his fault they were stuck at Fort Faith, and even though the Knights were treating them well, it was his responsibility to fight on their behalf.
“So who is going?” Klye asked Colt.
“That has not been decided yet.” Colt fixed his gaze on his fingers, which were folded and resting on the desk. “That is why we have asked you here.”
I don’t remember being asked, Klye thought wryly. “Well, who do you have in mind?”
Colt took a deep breath. “The party bound for Rydah must take a circumspect route, avoiding the main road at all costs. We need someone with a wary eye…someone who is accustomed to traversing stretches of untamed land.”
“Othello,” Klye concluded.
Colt nodded. “From everything you have told me of him, Othello would be the perfect guide for the party.”
“What about Scout?” Klye asked. “He’s been all over Capricon, including Rydah. Othello makes a great lookout, but like me, he’s new to the island. With both Othello and Scout in the party, you’ll increase the likelihood of success.”
Colt met and held Klye’s
gaze. “Scout will not be leaving the fort.”
Klye waited for the commander to explain himself.
“I don’t doubt his abilities. But Scout has been quite vocal about his desire to return to Port Town so that he can warn the Renegade Leader there about the goblins, which, as you know, is not the most important objective at this point.”
“You doubt his loyalty,” Klye stated.
Colt sighed again. “I don’t believe Scout would actively jeopardize the mission, but he might take advantage of his freedom to further his own agenda.”
“And you aren’t going to change your mind?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Scout’s eagerness and honesty had done him in. Klye was forced to conclude that there was nothing he could do for the man. “Othello it is then,” Klye concluded helplessly. “He’s a talented archer, but that skill is severely undermined in a melee. You will need warriors trained for close combat…men who will fight as viciously and fearlessly as the goblins themselves.”
“You are referring to the pirates,” Colt said with a faint smile.
Klye nodded.
“That isn’t possible,” Colt said. “They are too unpredictable, and they stand to gain the most from deserting.” Klye opened his mouth to argue, but Colt quickly added, “And, no, I am not going to change my mind.”
Klye folded his arms. “Why did you bother to ‘ask’ me here if you’ve already made up your mind?”
“We have not made up our minds about everyone,” Colt said. “Lilac, for instance…she joined the Renegades after she learned the false Prince Eliot had her brother, a Knight, killed. She sought out your band because she had also learned the imposter sent assassins to hunt down Chester Ragellan and Dominic Horcalus.”
Klye said nothing. He and Colt had been over it all before. He had told the commander all about the misadventures that had brought him to Fort Faith, including everything he himself had learned about the Renegades in his band.
Colt went on. “Out of all of your men, she is perhaps the least guilty of wrongdoing. And then there is the matter of her sword.”
Klye could hold back his sarcasm no longer. “So you intend to let them carry weapons? What if they decide to throw in with the goblins? Lilac’s vorpal sword can cut through a Knight’s mail as easily as a goblin’s.”
“He makes a valuable point,” Petton said smugly.
“Klye, this is a delicate issue. Up until a week ago, the Renegades were our enemy. We are investing an awful lot of faith, so please have some patience here.”
Klye had never seen Colt so exasperated. “Fine, fine. I’m sorry. Yes, I’ll vouch for Lilac. Even without her enchanted blade, she’s an effective warrior.”
“What about Plake?” Colt asked.
“He’s lousy in a fight that requires more than bare fists. He’s obnoxious, pugnacious, and doesn’t like to follow orders. As much as I’d love to get him out of the infirmary and far away from the fort, I wouldn’t recommend adding him to the party.”
“Very well. What about Arthur?”
Klye nearly laughed out loud. Arthur had not so much joined his band as gotten swept away with it. Out of everyone in the band, he knew the least about Arthur.
“Arthur is even more useless in combat than Plake. He’s young and inexperienced.”
Klye didn’t bother mentioning that Arthur’s disposition had taken a turn for the peculiar since the Renegades had gotten caught. Horcalus was very worried about the boy, but neither he nor Klye knew what to do to buoy Arthur’s spirits. Lately, the boy kept to himself.
“That leaves Horcalus,” Klye said after a moment. “As a former Knight, he’s the most qualified to lead the party.”
Colt exchanged a glance with Petton before saying, “We remain undecided about whether to allow Horcalus to join the party. I am convinced of his loyalty to Superius, but Lieutenant Petton has his reservations.”
I’ll just bet he does, Klye thought.
“You’ll find no better swordsman in my band,” Klye argued. “He is honorable and fair, not to mention an experienced warrior. Unless you plan on sending Othello and Lilac alone, I suggest you include him.”
Petton opened his mouth—likely to object—but then there came the sounds of a scuffle from on the other side of the door. The sound of a man’s voice could be heard, followed by the harsh replies of the sentries. Something knocked against the door, and all three Knights—Stannel, Colt, and Petton—rose to their feet.
Klye, thinking it best to conserve his strength, remained seated, though he craned his neck to look back at the door.
With one hand on the hilt of his sheathed broadsword, Petton wrenched open the door, revealing a single man who was in the process of struggling against the sentries. To Klye’s relief, it was not one of his Renegades.
“I demand you let me in!” the stranger shouted. “I must speak with Stannel before he sneaks off again!”
While Klye had never seen the middle-aged, three-cornered-hat-wearing man before, he did recognize faces in the crowd behind him. Lilac, Horcalus, and Scout looked equally surprised to find the stranger grappling with the Knights. And when Opal and Noel came to a stop behind the Renegades, Klye thought Colt’s office was far too small for so large an audience.
* * *
Since it was obvious that the private meeting had come to an abrupt end, Colt decided that the best thing to do—indeed, the only thing to do—was to bring the matter before the assembled company. They relocated the conference to the dining hall, which was empty at this time of the day.
Colt took his place at the head of one of the long tables, with Stannel seated on one side and Lieutenant Petton on the other. Klye chose the spot next to Stannel, and the other Renegades—Horcalus, Lilac, and Scout—joined him on the same side. Opposite the Renegades sat Opal, Noel, and Cholk, the dwarf having joined the procession en route to the dining hall.
He waited for a few minutes before starting, saying not a word until the final two invitees entered the room. When Othello and Sister Aric took their place beside the merchant at the foot of the table, Colt rose and told everyone the ill tidings of Fort Valor’s demise.
Predictably, everyone was taken aback by the report, though no one was struck harder than Sister Aric, who bowed her head and silently wept. There were angry mutters from rebels and civilians alike. Colt didn’t know why the merchant, Mitto, had barged into his office to begin with, but now the man traded his indignant expression for one of silent shock.
The buzz of curses and threats against the goblins ceased when Colt resumed his speech. He explained the dire importance of sending a small company to Rydah in order to inform them of the tragedy and to appraise the situation at the capital. When he told them of Stannel’s plan to send a few of the Renegades to accomplish this vital task, the room was plunged into a stunned silence.
The stillness did not last long, however.
“With all due respect, Colt, do you really think you can trust the Renegades?” Opal asked. “What’s to stop them from running off?”
“Klye would never do that!” Noel insisted from beside her.
“The Renegade Leader isn’t going anywhere,” Petton told the midge, “though you are welcome to leave anytime you wish.”
The three rebels seated to Klye’s right regarded him curiously, waiting for a further explanation from their leader. Klye merely shrugged and said, “It’s up to Colt to say who will be allowed to go, but nobody has to go.”
“We’re eager to help,” Scout insisted. “The goblins are responsible for killing Ragellan…and Lilac’s brother. Just tell us when, and we’ll be ready.”
“They won’t let you go, Scout,” Klye said. “Or the pirates. And I’m not even sure if they’ll let you go, Horcalus.”
Colt’s eyes were drawn to Mitto, who had risen to his feet. “I don’t care if the company is made up of rebels, pirates, and half-dozen midge, I’m coming along!”
Sister Aric sat silently. For a mo
ment, Colt thought that she was staring into space, her mind wandering, but then he realized that she was looking at Stannel. The former Commander of Fort Valor had met her gaze, and Colt forced himself to look away, not wanting to intrude upon their private grief.
“Can I come along too?” The insistent, almost whiny voice of the midge caught Colt’s attention next, and when he glanced over at that side of the table, he saw that Noel was pulling at Opal’s sleeve. “I’ll be a big help!”
Opal, ignoring Noel, was exchanging words with Cholk, though Colt could not hear them due to the clamor of all the voices. Above it all, Gaelor Petton was yelling across the table at Scout, who was himself complaining at the injustice of allowing Lilac and Horcalus to go but not him.
“The rogue knight won’t be going anywhere if I have anything to say about it!” Petton promised.
Realizing that he had lost all control over the assembly, Colt shouted, “Silence!”
Everyone hushed, except for Noel, who demanded, “Why can’t everybody just be friends?” before slouching down in his chair.
Eleven pairs of eyes watched him, waiting for him to judiciously settle all disputes. But Colt was through with playing mediator. Enough was enough. He was the commander.
“No one is going anywhere without my say-so,” Colt told them all. “I don’t care if you are a civilian or the King of Superius. Capricon is at war, and I must assume responsibility for everyone currently residing within my fort. If you have a problem with this, I will be happy to personally escort you to a cell where you will remain until the goblins are defeated.”
No one said a word, and more than a few of them regarded him with astonished expressions. Colt was surprised to find he enjoyed their reactions. For the first time since he had assumed command of Fort Faith—for perhaps the first time in his life—he refused to second-guess himself.
The freedom from doubt was almost intoxicating.
Williams, D M - Renegade Chronicles [Collection 1-3] Page 67