“So many this far away?” Garet asked, his expression twisted in a guilty grimace. “I didn’t expect anything so heavy at such a distance.”
“Not your fault, Garet,” James told the troubled Red. “Nothing about this mission has been what we were expecting.”
Danner looked at James with interest but held back his questions.
“My men are enough to handle them easily,” Danner said, moving on to the more pressing issue, “but I’d rather not take them on in the open like this. If you’ll be so kind as to accompany us, we’ll get you out of here. Garet, I’ll even take you to your son.”
The big man looked surprised, then he grinned.
The trio of paladins looked curiously at the two platoons of denarae soldiers forming around them, already taking a defensive stance in case of attack. They noted the professional attitude and handling of each man and were obviously impressed.
“Lead on, Danner,” James said, deferring to the younger paladin.
“Treb, have we been spotted?” he asked his friend, who had walked up beside him.
“Almost certainly.” His eyes grew distant a moment, then Brican appeared. They conferred verbally in low tones. The verbal exchange was a pre-determined ruse to maintain the illusion and secret of kything in front of outsiders, even other paladins. “They’re headed straight for us and have more on the way. The next group is cavalry, so they’ll be here all too soon.”
“Then I suggest we move now.”
Vander swung up behind Garnet on his massive yellow dakkan, still cradling his bundle. Danner finally got a peek as the paladin mounted, but his curiosity was somewhat let down when all he saw was the ugly face of a bulldog buried amidst the swaddled cloth. James mounted his dakkan and followed Danner’s directions without protest. They recognized he and Trebor were in command of the situation and acted accordingly. The denarae formed up around them and started moving at a steady trot.
“If we’re lucky, we can meet up with Garnet and Michael before the patrol catches up to us,” Danner said to Trebor in a low voice. “Then, with four platoons, maybe they’ll back off.”
“Not likely,” Trebor replied. “Remember, they’ve got cavalry coming. That’s an advantage, and they’ll probably realize we’re a part of the group that’s been twisting their skivvies for the past month. They won’t let us get away if they can help it. At the very least, they’ll try and wound us before falling back.”
“Damn you and your logic. I’m trying to think positively here.”
“Realistically works better every time, Danner. Think realistically.”
Danner glanced back over his shoulder. “Well, in that case, send ahead and have them meet us halfway. The patrol is definitely chasing us now.”
“Way ahead of you.”
In a few minutes, Garnet and Michael’s platoons had joined them and formed a defensive wall that opened briefly for them to pass through, then closed to present a solid front against the pursuing patrol. The Merishank soldiers hesitated, then slowed and stopped short of assaulting them. They glanced back and saw their own cavalry coming to reinforce them, then started forward again slowly. By that time, though, Danner and Trebor’s platoons were already disappearing into the forest, and the defensive wall suddenly melted away as Garnet and Michael hurried to join them.
True to Trebor’s prediction, the Merishank soldiers gave chase, even to the point of entering the woods after them. At first they found nothing. The denarae had melted into the shadows of the forest and were gone. Then suddenly Marc’s platoon appeared behind them and struck. As the Merishank soldiers turned to deal with the sudden threat, the platoon seemed to vanish before their very eyes, and Flasch’s platoon sliced in from a different direction, again taking them by surprise. Seconds later Garnet’s men appeared as if from thin air and cut the Merishank soldiers to pieces.
Within minutes, the only living creatures wearing Merishank colors were the rider-less horses whinnying in fright. The denarae killed the horses, too, as a necessity of war. Horses were worse than useless to them in their current guerilla fighting. They had no means of caring for the beasts, nor of getting them to those who could use them, and if left alive the horses would only return to the Merishank army and be used again. Danner grimaced at the screams, but it was over quickly, and they led the newcomers to meet with Gerard.
Garet was beaming with pride at the sight of his son not only as a paladin ─ and of the Red Facet no less ─ but leading men with skill and precision. The two men had embraced, practically shaking the forest with the force of the impact of their mountainous bodies, both encased in steel. Garnet had grown and filled out unnoticed by his friends who, having seen him every day, hadn’t noticed the gradual change. But Garet was pleased to see his son was now larger than he was and would soon hear from Gerard just how skilled Garnet had become. Danner wondered if he would one day see that same pride glowing in his own father’s eyes.
- 2 -
James eyed Gerard with respect as he listened to what the Red paladin had accomplished. While he sensed there were things Gerard was hiding, even from a fellow paladin, James was an accomplished diplomat and knew better than to press for information. Gerard had good reason for holding back whatever it was, the Yellow paladin was sure, and James probably had no business knowing. In the meantime, he held nothing back from his own report, seeing no reason to do so.
They spent the entire day exchanging information. The group assembled in Gerard’s sparse command building was made up of all paladins, except for the denarae Trebor Dok. Gerard had said he was cleared to hear anything, however, so James wasn’t worried about speaking freely in front of him.
He glossed over their initial journey until they had reached Den-Furral, the dwarven capital where Birch had slain one of The Three and they’d lost Wein Drolgis. At this point Danner broke in and mentioned his own demonic encounter, to which James intended to return and cover more thoroughly when he was finished with his report. He then told of their sailing with the dwarves and the encounter with Danner’s father and the elf on their way to the elven island, with the resulting split in their jintaal. From there, the three of them had sailed to Tal Horam and then traveled through the Dormaal Rak Mountains into southern Merishank.
“It was smooth sailing all the way through the mountains,” James continued, “then abruptly we had to dodge patrols almost every mile as soon as we reached the foothills. The closer we got to the city of Merishank, the more frequent and well-armed the patrols. Everywhere we went, we saw preparations for war. Blacksmiths working day and night, supply wagons being loaded and carted north, training camps to turn boys into soldiers. Merishank is perpetually on the brink of another war, either with their neighbors over territory or with itself in yet another civil war, but this was something far and away different from their usual state.”
Garet stirred in his seat and addressed the group as James left off. “I don’t know how much you boys know about Merishank’s history, but they have multiple armies. At any given time they can field anywhere from three to five standing armies without overly straining their resources, any one of which is enough to make another country sit up and take notice. That’s not counting the Imperial Army in the capital, which isn’t the ceremonial body you might expect.
“The force that’s come calling here was initially the First Merishank, but they’ve been augmented by units from the Imperial Army, which has never happened in the history of the war-torn nation. The sole function of the Imperials is the protection of the emperor and the capital city at large. For them to have deployed here speaks to something unprecedented and wholly dangerous at work.”
“Why wouldn’t they send more than one of their armies?” Garnet asked. “It seems to me that no matter their goals here, more men would only further them. Why be shy about it?”
“They’re deployed around the nation, son,” Garet replied. “Nocka’s not that far from the northern border, and that’s a lot of land to move troops a
cross to funnel them here.”
“Right,” James concurred. “My guess is timing. Whatever timetable they’re on, it’s happening soon and they couldn’t wait for reinforcements. Whoever’s running the show, they seem to feel this one army is enough for their purposes.”
“There’s a happy thought,” Flasch muttered.
“You said patrols were thick,” Gerard said brusquely, steering the conversation back to James’s narration. “How far were you able to get?”
“That’s just it,” James told him with an incredulous wave of his hand. “While we were still trying to infiltrate the palace, the entire city went quiet overnight. The First had already begun its march north before we arrived, but the Imperial Army was stirred up beyond anything we expected outside of an active war, like they were expecting an imminent invasion. We were about to give up hope of entering the city when we saw a sizable chunk of the Imperials leave, and suddenly there weren’t enough troops left in the field to patrol a farmstead. With a move like that, I expected a member of the imperial family to be on the move. But we learned the emperor and his entire family were still in his palace when the patrols suddenly ceased, so it had to be something else.
“Eventually, we discovered the calmness coincided with the departure of the emperor’s new chief advisor, a mysterious man who appeared from nowhere and gained the emperor’s ear in a day.” James paused. “Within that same day, the emperor began issuing orders for the First to muster and prepare for war, and the target was Nocka.”
“I think we found our demon,” Gerard said, “and I’d wager a year of latrine duty that he’s still with the army now. That ‘special guest’ you overheard mention of the other night, Trebor.” He paused a moment in thought, then stared intently at James. “If we can get you into Nocka, you can fill in the Prismatic Council and get clearance for us to assassinate the advisor. That’s something I might be overstepping my authority to authorize alone. When you get authorization, come back here and we’ll arrange it.” He looked significantly at Flasch and added, “Without the demon’s influence, maybe words become an option again.”
The Violet paladin calmly returned his gaze, then winked impudently.
“And if they don’t authorize it?” James asked. “It’s possible we’re wrong, you know.”
“We’re not just going to stab him in his sleep,” Michael pointed out. “If it’s truly one of The Three, only the Tricrus will destroy him. If he’s nothing but a man, we can apologize for scratching him afterward.”
Gerard jerked his head in approval at his officer, then turned back to James.
“Even so, if the Council decides not to risk it, let me know and I’ll arrange it anyway. As long as you give me word before I receive official orders not to assassinate him, there’s nothing to stop me. I suppose I can always apologize later, if need be.” Gerard grinned wickedly. “A tragic miscommunication, I’m sure.”
“I think I could grow to like you, Gerard,” Garet said.
“That’s because you didn’t have to train under him,” Garnet said to his father, at which they all laughed ─ even Gerard.
“So then what?” Gerard asked after a moment.
“Pardon?”
“After the city quieted and you discovered the role of the advisor, what happened? Did you investigate further or decide to follow the army north? What and why?”
“We stayed for few more days and eventually decided there was little or nothing we could do there, and it was important for us to inform the Council of our discoveries,” James said. “We started north to follow the army and see if we could learn more about this advisor, avoiding supply trains and straggling units as best we could. Just the other day, we had to fly on our dakkans to escape a trap, but Vander’s dakkan was seriously wounded in its wing, and we haven’t had a safe spot for enough time to devote to healing him, to say nothing of the resulting healing sleep. We’ve had some limited success, but none of us even has the skills to properly heal it at this point, I’m afraid.”
“Trebor,” Gerard said meaningfully.
“Yes, sir,” he replied, then left the room. Vander had left his wounded dakkan (still in bulldog form) with some of the denarae in a nearby camp rather than try to climb the tree with the beast in tow.
“Trebor was quite an accomplished healer and should have been a Green paladin of top-notch caliber,” Gerard explained. “He’ll be able to fix your mount in no time. And if it’s too far gone for him, there’s always Danner, who either cures or kills his patients.”
Danner glared at him, but had to acknowledge the truthfulness of that statement. He’d never killed anyone, of course, but the joke had stuck from his training.
“I’ll go with him, to see he stays calm and will accept his hand,” Vander said, then followed the denarae down the tree.
“I’m glad you all spotted us and came to our rescue,” Garet said. “We were trying to decide whether we could learn anything else or just pack it in and fly home, but it seems we underestimated their patrols. You saved us a bit of embarrassment and possibly a life or three.”
Gerard nodded in acceptance of the gratitude.
“So what happens now?” James asked.
“We get you three into Nocka to report to the Prismatic Council,” Gerard replied. “If Vander’s dakkan isn’t recovered entirely yet, we’ll care for the beast here and Vander can ride double with one of you. I’ll send Danner and Trebor with you to make a report of our efforts here and check on some things in the city for me.
“You,” he said, turning to Danner, “come see me with Trebor when he’s finished healing the dakkan, and I’ll fill you in on what I need done. In the meantime, gentlemen, it’s been a long day, and I suggest we all turn in for the night. You can fly into Nocka tomorrow, if there are no objections.”
“None here,” James said, stifling a yawn.
- 3 -
Later that night, Marc and Vander were talking alone, comparing notes as only two paladins of the same Facet can do. Garet and Garnet were having a similar conversation, linked also by their familial relationship and need to catch the other up on the past few months. James and Michael were also talking, with Flasch sitting in to relieve his boredom. Trebor and Danner had long since received their instructions from Gerard and had turned in for the night to prepare for the following day.
“You’re probably one of a half-dozen paladins who has ever read that book,” Vander said, referring to an obscure piece on the angelic hierarchy. “It’s only half translated, so most people don’t bother trying to read it.”
“Actually, it’s been entirely translated now,” Marc said. “Danner can actually read the immortal language.” Belatedly, Marc realized where that line of conversation could lead, and he mentally cursed himself. But if Vander noticed, he gave no sign. Instead, he was entirely curious about the contents of the rest of the volume. No doubt it would later plague Vander’s thoughts, but for now he was all afire with single-minded intensity.
“What was missing from chapter twelve?” he asked anxiously. “I wrote an extensive exegesis with postulation on what was lacking, and I’m eager to know if I was close.”
“I read your piece,” Marc said, then shifted uncomfortably. “I hate to tell you, but for the most part, you were nowhere near what was actually in the text. There were a couple areas where you were surprisingly accurate, dead on in fact, but everything else may as well have not been written.”
“Which parts?” Vander asked, a bit crestfallen.
“Your theories on God’s relationship to the angels and Satan’s to the devils were right on, and your extrapolations on souls going either to Heaven or to Hell. The text confirms these,” Marc said. “But the rest…”
“Bah, those were the only two that mattered,” Vander said, waving his hand, his excitement rekindled. “The rest of it was more to please my fellows who would have rejected the rest had I not included that rubbish. But to have it confirmed that God and Satan both maintain a mostly h
ands-off approach with their immortals as well as with we mere mortals is worth more than a solid-gold dakkan to me, Marc. Not to mention proof that our souls are actually judged and sorted to an afterlife accordingly. I knew there couldn’t just be demons in Hell and angels above in Heaven, which is what one of my childhood teachers told us. The sorting has been suggested, and it’s what most people think anyway, but that’s the first concrete evidence we have.”
Vander smiled in anticipation.
“Is there a translation available for consumption?” the older Orange paladin asked. “I’d like to cross-reference that with other books and try to uncover the exact determinant of the sorting, whether it’s an automated process or an angel with a set of scales to weigh your soul, as some more artistically inclined scholars have suggested.” This last was uttered with a disdainful sniff.
Marc smiled at the older paladin’s excitement. He couldn’t decide whether he liked Vander or thought he was annoying. Sometimes both at once. He seemed to have something to prove, a problem Marc acknowledged that he suffered from himself, and he was forever over-thinking points of their conversation, to the exclusion of other thoughts and possibilities, also something from which Marc suffered. These traits annoyed Marc when he saw them in someone else, but that he saw them in himself as well made it more tolerable, and he could overlook them. It was hard to look down on someone for something you knew you did yourself. Aside from those qualities, he seemed fairly laid back and personable.
“Well, I suppose I can pump you for information on that at some later point,” Vander said with a smile, “but I was intrigued by something you mentioned about the paladins you and your friends hunted down and captured; the ones corrupted by the demon’s presence. Our companion, Wein, was under the influence of the same demon, you see, and I had thought that if he had managed to outlive the one Danner killed, perhaps he might have shaken its control. Everything I’ve studied seems to suggest such mind control is temporary unless maintained by the instigator. But with the demon dead, these other paladins should have reverted to their previous states of mind.”
The Devil's Deuce (The Barrier War) Page 28