“If you want to stay in Hylan for personal reasons, I’ll understand,” he told her.
She studied him for a moment. When she finally replied, a familiar half-smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You’re not getting away from me that easily. I didn’t rescue your sorry butt from the goblins just to let you run off and get captured all over again.”
Colt doubted she would ever know how happy those words made him.
“I know that you’re in charge,” she added, “but for the record, I think going to the goblin camp is a big mistake.”
To Colt’s absolute astonishment, Opal took a step forward and wrapped her arms around him. So stunned was he by her actions that, for a moment, he just stood there, his arms stiff at his sides.
“You’re my only friend on this island, Colt. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
Her whispered words tickled his earlobes. Belatedly, he patted her back. His tongue felt swollen in his mouth, and before he could say anything, Opal broke away.
“Good night, Saerylton.”
Colt’s heart swelled as he watched her go. He wanted to shout that he loved her, but he had once again missed his chance. He stood there for a long time—his pending meeting with Dale, Ruford, and Quillan Dag all but forgotten—as he pondered her words and the portent of the hug.
Passage VIII
Lilac awoke with no memory of how she had gotten back to the empty stockroom and a headache that reached all the way down to her toes. She forced herself to rise and dress. When she stepped into the storefront, daylight assaulted her eyes like daggers.
Walking down Hylan’s only road, she kept an eye out for Hunter, though she figured the woman was probably with Pillip. She reached the medical tent without seeing anyone familiar. The light inside was blessedly dim. There was no sign of the doctor, but at that moment Lilac didn’t care.
Othello was awake and sitting up.
It was all she could do to keep from smothering him with a great hug.
“Thank the gods,” Lilac said. “We feared we would lose you!”
“I’ll be fine,” Othello insisted, his voice cracking.
Oddly, Othello seemed pretty close to fine. Were it not for the scarlet-stained poultices covering his bare chest like patchwork, she might have doubted he had been hurt at all. In fact, he looked far better than Lilac was feeling just then.
The color had returned to his face. His tangled blond hair had been brushed back, away from his eyes, which had lost the glint of fever’s madness.
“When did you wake?” she asked. “When I was here yesterday, it seemed likely you’d be out for days.”
“Very early this morning.”
“How are you feeling now?”
“Better,” he answered, and Lilac couldn’t help but smile at his customary curtness.
She asked if he was hungry or thirsty, to which he shook his head. She wondered whether Opal had visited him that morning but instead asked, “Did the doctor fill you in on what’s been happening?”
Othello shook his head again. “He told me to take it easy…not to talk.”
Lilac’s smile grew. Telling Othello to be silent was like telling a Knight to stand up straight. She did her best to summarize the events of the past few days. Othello’s face betrayed no emotions as she concluded with last night’s assembly.
“Colt challenged Dale’s authority and declared his intentions to lead a force against the goblin war camp. And he had a lot of supporters.
Still no reaction from the forester.
“I’m going, too,” she added a few seconds later. “Thanks to my vorpal sword, I might even be of some help.”
Before we all perish, she silently added.
The thought was sobering to be sure, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with fear. She needed to run, to get as far away from Hylan and the goblins as possible. You shouldn’t be here, her mind screamed. Superius is your home, not this island.
But she knew the goblins wouldn’t be content with conquering only Capricon. T’slect, the goblin prince, told them T’Ruel had designs on all of Continae. By staying and fighting alongside Colt and the others, she would be defending her homeland, albeit indirectly.
And she could never forget that the goblins had killed her brother, disposing of him after he grew suspicious of his commanding officer’s odd behavior. The poor man never knew the goblins were, in fact, the ones responsible for the Knighthood’s immoral activities.
Lilac herself wouldn’t learn the truth until months after her brother’s death. Gabriel had written her a letter shortly before he was caught snooping. The missive told of how the Knights had hired a wizardess assassin to hunt down Chester Ragellan and Dominic Horcalus, his former comrades who had been labeled Renegade sympathizers.
Lilac had “borrowed” the vorpal sword, a family heirloom that had done little more than collect dust over the years, and sailed to Capricon in hopes of saving the rogue Knights of Superius. She had found Ragellan and Horcalus in the company of a band of Renegades. In the end, she killed the assassin, but not before the spell-caster beheaded valiant Chester Ragellan.
She could have returned to Superius at once. After all, she wasn’t a rebel, not really. And yet she had formed a bond with the unusual band. And she had realized how much she wanted to make a difference in the world.
Her father, a baron, would have told her that power lay in politics, but Lilac had learned during her time with the Renegades that history was often decided by people who just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time.
If she returned to Superius, she would undoubtedly marry a nobleman, earning the title of baroness or countess or something equally useless. She had envied her little brother in following his dream to become a Knight of Superius. If the Knighthood allowed female squires, wouldn’t she have enlisted right along with him.
Lilac Zephyr could never be a Knight, but she was a warrior—and the vorpal sword made her a formidable warrior indeed.
“When do we leave?”
Othello’s question broke the spell of her daydreaming. At first she could only blink stupidly, having forgotten the forester was there.
“Colt wants everyone gathered in the square by—” She stopped suddenly. “What do you mean by ‘we’? You’re not fit to go anywhere, especially not to another battle!”
Othello didn’t say anything. His bold green eyes bore into hers, somehow making a stronger argument than words ever could. She knew Othello’s accuracy with a longbow would be a valuable addition to the troupe, but no one—not even Colt—could ask the forester to return to the fray. Not so soon.
But if Othello was determined to go…
She wondered if Othello’s desire to join Colt’s army was a matter of pride. The man had taken quite a beating. Studying the forester’s chiseled, almost statuesque face, she found it difficult to believe any emotion could penetrate Othello’s being, least of all pride.
Then again, Othello’s motivation had always been a mystery to his companions. Why should now be any different?
“We’re to set out at dusk,” Lilac said at last. “I strongly recommend you stay here and recover…even though we need all of the help we can get.”
As soon as she said that last part, she realized how much she hoped he would come. If she were to die in battle, she wanted at least one friend beside her.
“You should get some more rest,” she said. “I’ll come back later and see if you’ve changed your mind.”
Othello nodded and lay back on his cot.
Lilac intended to take her own advice. Her head was throbbing. The mere thought of beer made her stomach roil. She left the tent, heading back to the store. Physical ailments aside, her mood was currently at the mercy of two warring factions: relief at Othello’s remarkable recovery and apprehension of what was to come.
As she crossed the dirt road, she saw Opal exit the general store. She muttered a cool greeting as she walked past. Lilac didn’t have to turn aroun
d to know where Opal was going. Idly, she wondered if the woman would try to talk Othello out of leaving Hylan. Or maybe she wanted the forester to come along.
For all Lilac knew, Opal might offer to stay behind and nurse him back to health.
Not for the first time, she wondered what Colt thought of Opal’s behavior regarding Othello. Surely the young commander was not at all pleased with the ambiguous relationship. It was obvious to Lilac that Colt had feelings for the woman.
Opal had to know that.
* * *
They were the only ones the room that had formerly been reserved for travelers but was now a part of Hylan’s barracks.
Colt lay on a cot, his hands clasped behind his head. Dylan was making a show of packing his things into a knapsack. The restless Knight had already rearranged the items inside more than half a dozen times, but that didn’t seem to bother Dylan at all.
Several times, Colt found himself on the verge of engaging Dylan in conversation, only to think better of it. While he considered Dylan to be a worthy soldier and ally in his cause, he worried that Dylan saw him as nothing more than a means to an end. Thanks to Colt’s support, Dylan had accomplished what he could not have done alone.
It was a depressing thought, one of many that had been swimming around in his head that morning.
Watching the other man out of the corner of his eye, Colt wondered why Dylan Torc was so eager to engage the goblins. Probably, Colt thought, his reasons aren’t so different from my own. He has surely lost countless comrades during the fall of Rydah. Worse, the Knight had seen the invaders slaughter hundreds of innocents, unable to save those he was charged to defend.
And yet Colt suspected Dylan would have acted no differently had he been stationed in Hylan all along. The man simply seemed to enjoy being in the thick of things. It was just the type of man he was.
Colt had been half-dozing for nearly an hour when he heard a knock at the door. He sat up and looked toward the threshold, expecting to find someone standing there, partially revealed by the half-open door. But he saw only a vacant hallway.
“Hello?” Colt called.
“Is everybody decent in there?” Opal asked.
Colt glanced at Dylan, who was indeed fully dressed. Not caring a bit what the other Knight thought about admitting a woman into the barracks, he said, “You can come in.”
Opal entered, taking in the mostly empty room with a quick glance.
“Where is everybody?”
Before Colt could reply, Dylan said, “Gomez, Tryst, and Lucky went out for some ‘refreshment.’ From what I overheard, the old man wanted to say goodbye to ‘his boys.’ I guess he won’t be coming along.”
“But Tryst and Lucky are?” Opal asked, her voice rich with disbelief.
Dylan nodded, but didn’t look at her. As he spoke, he polished the blade of a small dagger with a stained rag. “They’re coming, and so are some of their colleagues. But Gomez is worried he would slow us down. ‘I ain’t as young as I used t’ be,’ he said.”
When Opal didn’t respond, Dylan glanced up from his work. Sheathing the dagger, he added, “I had better go and make sure they don’t get carried away. It will be time to leave before we know it.”
All but bowing as he hurried past Opal, Dylan left the room. Colt was thankful for the privacy, but his cheeks burned at the thought of being alone with Opal. Sometimes, he feared she could see into his mind and read every one of his impure thoughts.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, facing the oblivious love of his life.
Opal’s long hair was held in place by the thick braid she always wore while traveling. A freshly stocked quiver clung to her back, and her crossbow hung from her belt. She didn’t at all resemble the soft woman he had held last night, but Colt would have hugged her even if she were covered head to toe in plate mail were the opportunity to present itself.
“I just wanted to see if you’re having any doubts,” Opal told him. “And if you are, I plan to nurture them.”
His mind still fixed on that woefully brief moment of intimacy, Colt was baffled by her statement. When he realized she was talking about the mission, he flashed her a rueful smile.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Opal said with an exaggerated sigh.
He appreciated her support despite her personal misgivings. If anyone could have talked him out of advancing on the goblin camp, it was she. Of course, Opal didn’t seem to know how much sway she held over him.
“You look like you’re all ready to go,” he said, gesturing at the crossbow resting against her shapely hip.
“It’s all I have with me,” she laughed. “For that matter, it’s all I own…except for my horse. Gods, I wish I could have brought Nisson along. I am not looking forward to a three-day hike through the wilderness.”
Colt didn’t have the heart to tell her the trip would take closer to five days than three.
“I guess the good news is that if we fail, we won’t have to worry about walking back.”
Opal crossed her arms, which caused the furrow between her breasts to become more pronounced. Colt forced himself to look her in the eyes, which happened to be narrowed.
“That’s not funny, Colt. I’m the pessimist here, not you.”
“You must be rubbing off on me.”
Opal rolled her eyes. “I don’t know about that…though you have changed a lot since we met in Port Errnot.”
Colt’s mind jumped back to that fateful day. His uncle, Sir Rollace White, had introduced the two of them, after he had tried to rescue Opal from some street toughs. Not that she had needed his help.
It had been no more than two months ago, though almost Colt couldn’t believe that. It was difficult to believe there had been a time in his life when Opal wasn’t around.
“I’ve changed since you met me?” Colt repeated. “For the better, I hope…”
Opal regarded him thoughtfully. “I suppose ‘matured’ might be a better word. You’re certainly not second-guessing yourself as much as you used to.”
At least not aloud, Colt thought.
“When a man knows the right course, it’s easy to be confident,” he replied, thinking of men like his father and Dylan Torc.
“Are you going to take that with you?”
Colt glanced down at the staff he hadn’t realized he was holding. A chill ran down his spine as he gazed into the hollow eye sockets. The disembodied head had made appearances in his dreams ever since Drekk’t had used the vuudu staff to make him spill secrets about Capricon’s defenses. A part of him wanted to smash the skull into a thousand pieces.
“I’d like nothing more than to be rid of it,” he said. “I know it’s an instrument of evil and that it ought to be destroyed, but I can’t bring myself to do it.”
When Colt did not elaborate, Opal asked softly, “Why not?”
He studied the wretched rod. “When the goblins made Cholk and I fight each other for sport, I was angry at Cholk for attacking me. But when I realized that he was just making it look realistic…and then killed himself so that they wouldn’t kill us both…well, I was even angrier with him.
“Drekk’t made me tell everything I knew about Fort Faith and the rest of the island. I wasn’t strong enough to resist his spells, and I began to think Cholk had made a terrible mistake in giving his life for me.
“I wanted nothing more than to give up and die. I wasn’t worthy of his gift. But you gave me a second chance too, Opal, and something good came out my incarceration after all. We have this staff. Neither Drekk’t nor any other goblin is going to use its vile magic against a human again.”
“So why not be rid of it once and for all?” Opal asked.
Colt met her eyes and saw they were full of worry.
“I know it should be destroyed,” Colt said, “but it seems like a waste, especially if we could somehow use it against them.”
“You’re thinking about using vuudu against the goblins?” Opal asked, astonished.
Colt shook his head. “No…I don’t know…if they see us with it, maybe they will think we can harness its power. Besides, we’re not even sure we can destroy it, and if it’s to remain whole, I’ll be the one to hold onto it.”
“Even if you’d be taking it back to the one place you don’t want it to end up?”
“Even so,” Colt sighed. “Truth to tell, I don’t trust anyone else with it, and I must lead the attack on the goblins.”
“For vengeance?” Opal ventured.
Colt searched her expression, wondering if she was trying to goad him, but her face was without guile. “It’s true that I want to pay Drekk’t and his soldiers back for all that they did. But this is more about making the best use of Cholk’s gift than revenge.”
“How do you know you’re not wasting that gift by putting your life at risk?” Opal pressed.
“I suppose I don’t, but I know I have to do something. I suppose I can’t expect you to understand. When someone gives their life for you, it’s as though you’re living for yourself and for them. If you don’t do something spectacular…something worthy…”
“I don’t think Cholk meant to put more pressure on you, Colt.”
Colt smiled with one side of his mouth. “Regardless of his intentions, I know this is something I must do.”
Opal produced a half-smile of her own. “Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying. I’ll be there with you every step of the way, Colt. I too owe those gray-skinned sons of bitches for what they did to Cholk.”
Colt took a step toward Opal, wanting nothing more than to initiate a sequel to last night’s hug. She was all he had left in Capricon. His family back in Superius might as well be in another world. But he hung back.
“Else and Mitto are staying,” Opal said, “though you probably already knew that. Mitto’s injuries haven’t mended entirely. Anyway, neither of them are warriors.”
Colt watched her pink lips form the words. How he desired to silence them with a long kiss! He took a step closer.
Williams, D M - Renegade Chronicles [Collection 1-3] Page 93