The Devil's Deuce (The Barrier War)

by Brian J Moses

  “And you’re sure they work properly?” Gerard said.

  Faldergash’s beard bristled in indignation, and he thumped his ample chest with one meaty fist. Gerard absently noticed the gnome was missing a finger on that hand. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised that a gnome who invented explosives was missing a digit.

  “You have my word,” the gnome replied, his eyes flashing. “What do I look like, a dwarf? Do you think I’d give you anything that might put Danner’s life in danger?”

  “My apologies, master inventor,” Gerard replied, inclining his head. “I believe you have just given me exactly what I wanted.” Gerard grinned wickedly, and for once the expression didn’t make Danner cringe. He even mimicked his commander.

  Shadow Company moved out shortly before midnight, half of them loaded down with one of the gnome’s explosive devices and a detonator to go with it. They had all been instructed not to place the detonator in the device until it was in place, lest they accidentally push the button and incinerate themselves. Since they were all toting a gnomish device of explosive design, none of them were willing to risk doing anything but exactly what they were ordered.

  The ground in front of the Barrier was frozen solid and covered with a thin layer of mud-churned snow, but the farther they moved away from the giant wall, the warmer the ground became. By the time they neared the demon armies, there was no sign snow had ever fallen, and the air itself felt warm enough to be comfortable.

  Gerard’s instincts had been right: there were no sentries posted to guard the enemy army. Unfortunately, they were also not necessary. The legion of damned souls was not asleep. Not exactly anyway.

  Trebor reported that they were all in a sort of vegetative trance that was somewhere between awake and asleep. It meant their thoughts were more difficult to pinpoint and maneuver around, and they would be slightly more alert than if they were actually slumbering. Gerard gave the go-ahead anyway, knowing they might never get another chance at this. Even if they were discovered and attacked, it was worth the risk if they could get even some of the explosives in place.

  Gerard waited in silence with Garnet, Marc, and Michael at his side, their platoons arrayed behind them and ready to move at a moment’s notice. Flasch, Danner, and Trebor accompanied the rest of the company into the enemy camp. The waiting grated on Gerard’s nerves, but he held himself calm, knowing that to give in to his anxiety was to invite disaster.

  “Fifth platoon reporting in, both squads are clear,” a mental message came, followed soon after by a report from second platoon. By the time all six squads had checked in, Gerard’s heart was racing. Each moment, he expected some sort of uproar to signify that someone had been discovered, or their explosives had been noticed. But he stopped short of releasing an explosive breath and ordered them all to fall back to the Barrier. When they were a safe distance away, they broke into a run, wanting to gain the safety of the other defenders before the explosions detonated, which risked the possibility of an immediate retaliation.

  Shadow Company slipped through their ally’s sentry lines as easy as breathing and scared the wits out of a platoon of humans when they suddenly appeared right in front of them. The other commanders came to confer with Gerard, but he simply told them to look west and wait.

  A few moments later, the sky itself seemed to catch fire and the ground shook as dozens of explosives went off at the same moment. Two companies had coordinated their timers with their thoughts to ensure the explosives all went off near each other. Now, a wave of heat swept over them all, and Gerard nearly howled in laughter as he thought of what it must feel like in the middle of the inferno. The other human commanders jumped back and all but hid behind Gerard, then crept out abashedly as they saw he was unmoved by the sudden holocaust erupting in the midst of their enemies. They looked at the furious glee that lit his face and shuddered. Siran watched the fires burn and the corner of his lip turned up in a smile, then he turned away as though bored.

  The explosions continued for another twenty minutes, during which the defenders of Nocka watched in amazement as fire swept the distant plains. Occasionally several would go off at once, and a large explosion was heard, sometimes with a rush of heat, but nothing equaled the initial devastating blast.

  The legions of the damned did not come that next day, nor the day after that.

  Chapter 28

  If you want to understand a woman, ask a woman. If you want to understand a man, ask a woman.

  - Jayne & Alec Tirtron,

  “The Modern Woman” (567 AM)

  - 1 -

  When the third day without fighting had passed, Gerard gave Shadow Company permission to stand down and take a leave of sorts. None of the denarae was willing to go into the city for fear that racial antagonism might get the better of some citizens and cause difficulties, but they mingled freely with the soldiers nearby. The defenders of Nocka looked on the members of Shadow Company with tremendous respect in spite of their race, and the denarae were welcomed almost everywhere in the other camps around the Barrier. Even some of the Merishank soldiers were seen socializing with the denarae – not many, but a few.

  Gerard also gave the officers, meaning Danner and his friends, permission to seek entertainment elsewhere. The squad leaders would be responsible for discipline and care for their units, leaving all the officers a chance to go out as one, something they hadn’t done in months. The six youths felt the weight of leadership and their cares about the war and recent past all slip away, and they joked and wrestled as they ran aimlessly through the streets.

  “So, where are we going to go?” Flasch asked, breathless from wrestling on the ground with Trebor. The two young men stood, covered in snow and grinning foolishly like children released to play after a long restriction. Ignoring the looks of disdain from his cousin, Trebor had rubbed in the special chemical that made his gray skin look human, if a little pale and sun-starved.

  Marc raised one hand and started to open his mouth.

  “We already know where you want to go,” Flasch said. “Aunt Delia’s.”

  Michael’s attention perked up, and it was clear from his face that was his location of choice as well.

  “Are they even open now? Given, well you know,” the Yellow paladin asked, gesturing vaguely behind them toward the Barrier.

  “Are there any objections? Or other ideas?” Flasch asked, looking around.

  Danner hesitated, uneasy about going to a skin bar while he was currently involved with Marc’s sister. The Orange paladin must have seen his concern on his face, because Marc threw an arm around Danner’s shoulder and pulled him close in a conspiratorial manner.

  “Don’t worry, Danner,” Marc said in a jovial whisper that everyone could hear, “I promise I won’t tell Alicia if you don’t. San, you don’t even have to enjoy yourself if you don’t want to.” He leaned back far enough to stare at Danner with mock-seriousness and held up a stern finger. “But no drinking for you tonight,” Marc said. “One glass and I’ll be pulling you out of the gutter.”

  “You’ve got the lowest tolerance of any human I’ve ever heard of,” Trebor said.

  “That’s because he’s not all human,” Flasch said. “Maybe drinking isn’t allowed in Heaven, and this is Danner’s body’s way of trying to keep him on the straight and narrow.”

  “I’ll straight and narrow my sword right upside your ass if you don’t knock it off,” Danner said, fighting a laugh. “You’d better hope stupidity is allowed in Heaven, otherwise you’re going elsewhere, my friend.”

  Garnet clamped a hand over Flasch’s mouth before he could object. Flasch glared at Garnet, but settled down.

  “So are we agreed?” Garnet asked. “Aunt Delia’s it is.”

  Aunt Delia’s was a kempt gentleman’s club tucked discreetly behind an expensive inn and a food market that seemed to be perpetually under repair. When Marc first introduced his friends to the club during an early weekend leave of their paladin training, the market had scaffolding everyw
here for the erection of a new building. From the looks of things, Danner didn’t think a single brick had been added to the building. Maybe the workers spent their time and money at Aunt Delia’s. Danner shrugged as he followed Marc inside.

  The club was known for the quality of its women, but also ─ as Marc and Garnet had pointed out that first time ─ for the pies baked there. Danner thought it an odd combination, baking and flesh peddling, but he supposed it added to the reputation. Certainly the club didn’t have to advertise. As with most such establishments, they existed solely by word-of-mouth and customers bringing in their friends to experience the scene, and Aunt Delia’s was quietly thriving.

  Inside the club, young, attractive women danced on four separate stages in a large common room. They writhed sensuously on various poles and railings, wearing little to almost-no clothing at all; to a woman, they all wore the minimum of a thong that covered only their most private of areas. The largest of the four stages was set in the middle of the room, and it was there that the main attraction was to be seen. At regular intervals, a woman wearing some sort of erotic costume would take the stage and slowly-but-surely remove each article of clothing until she was down to the requisite thong. A handful of men stood lined up at a nearby railing, to which they had to keep their hands firmly clasped while the woman gave them personal attention as she danced.

  A band was tucked away in one corner of the room, providing a steady stream of rhythmic music for the women to dance to, and against one wall there was an ample bar stocked with every conceivable type of alcoholic beverage. Danner looked at that wall and winced, remembering his previous experience, when he’d passed out in the middle of trying to drink out of his very empty glass. His friends still hadn’t let him live that one down.

  The crowd that evening was the smallest Danner had ever seen in the bar and served as subdued reminder of what was going on only a few miles away.

  “Well, then, boys,” Marc said, sighing in contentment, “have a seat.” He gestured expansively to the table like a grand host to his guests.

  Marc gathered some coins from them all and went to a booth set in a wall near the entrance. He returned with several slips of paper which substituted for currency, but far more than their meager contributions could have accounted for. Marc was well-known in the club, and the women all treated him well and gave him special attention, which extended to his friends as well. Marc had a romantic interest there, a girl who’d been introduced to them as Janice, but who went by the name “Cherry” while she was working. The other girls were sweet on him because they thought it wonderful and terribly romantic how fixed he was on one of their own. Garnet also had an interest of sorts, a girl who seemed more intent on him than he was on her. “Moonshine” was her work name, but Danner didn’t think he’d ever heard her real name.

  Michael, too, surprisingly enough, had a girl there, and Danner wondered if tonight would be the night for Flasch and Trebor to fall for some girl.

  Then all it would take is for Alicia to start serving drinks here, and our little group would be complete, he thought wryly.

  “Why don’t you suggest it to her next time you see her?” Trebor kythed to him with a mental laugh.

  “Are you insane?”

  Trebor left a mental chuckle echoing in Danner’s mind. Their friends went off in search of their particular women, leaving Flasch, Trebor, and Danner at a table halfway between the center stage and one of the outlying ones. Their table was on a raised step from the main floor, and a brass railing stood between them and the drop-off.

  Danner ordered a non-alcoholic cider, and the others ordered mugs of strong ale to sip. They leaned back in their chairs and relaxed, letting the excited spirit of the atmosphere creep into their bodies and work past the tension built up from weeks of fighting.

  “Now I know why sailors hit the bars and lesser clubs as soon as they hit shore,” Flasch remarked, sighing into the foam on top of his mug. “I didn’t realize how damn pent up I’ve been.”

  “Well, that’s not exactly why, but in a manner of speaking I suppose you’re right. You get used to it and don’t notice,” Trebor said. “I’m sure Marc could tell us the exact physical process in your body, if you’re interested.”

  “No thanks,” Flasch said, and the three of them laughed. He slipped a few pieces of the paper pseudo-currency to a waitress, who returned a few minutes later with three small, tube-shaped, bubbling-hot pies. Danner bit into one, felt the juices dribble down his chin, and he grinned like a little boy. The others imitated him, and the pies were gone in minutes. They wiped their chins clean, but the boyish feeling of euphoria remained.

  Danner looked around, paying no particular interest to any of the faces or bodies around him, and simply allowed himself to relax as he hadn’t done in months. He sighed. “I think this is what we all needed, you know? Time away from, well, everything.”

  “Danner?”

  “I feel like a whole new person,” Danner said.

  “Danner?”

  Flasch nudged him with an elbow. “Hey, whole new person, if your name’s still Danner, there’s someone coming this way who seems to know you.”

  Danner turned and found himself face-to-chest with a trim, blonde girl whose face – once he looked up and saw it – seemed vaguely familiar.

  “Danner, it is you,” the girl squealed in delight and threw her arms around him, practically falling into Danner’s lap.

  “Deeta?” he said, hoping he remembered her name right. The girl smiled and giggled into her hand.

  Deeta had been a barmaid at the Dragoenix Inn, the establishment owned by Moreen, where Danner had first met Alicia. Deeta had shamelessly expressed an interest in Danner, coming on to him so strongly that at times it was all he could do not to rudely shove her away in embarrassment. Even now, his face was turning scarlet as Flasch and Trebor looked at him with curiosity. Danner hugged Deeta awkwardly and patted her back, then tried to straighten her up so she was no longer flung across his body.

  “Ahem,” she said, straightening her garments, which Danner realized matched the others girls in the room. Which was to say that what little clothing Deeta wore was mostly see-through. Danner averted his eyes and then looked at her face instead, where he hoped it would be safer.

  “Deeta, this is Flasch and Trebor, two of my closest friends,” Danner said, making the introductions. “Guys, this is Deeta. She used to be a barmaid at the Dragoenix Inn, working under Moreen, the woman who travels with my uncle.”

  “How is Moreen?” Deeta said, jumping in. Danner mentally cursed.

  “Language,” Trebor kythed to him in an amused tone.

  “Fine as of last week,” Danner said, ignoring Trebor’s comment. “She was at a play with my uncle and me, along with some other friends.”

  “She’s here in Nocka? Wonderful. And Alicia?” Deeta asked. “She came here at the same time I did, a few months ago. We traveled together from Demar. She was looking for you, I think, even though she didn’t say it,” Deeta said, her voice strangely subdued as she peered at Danner, an unreadable expression on her face.

  “Alicia found us,” Danner said. “She’s the sister of one of our friends.” He hesitated, unsure of how to phrase what he wanted to say. “Alicia and I… we sort of have an understanding now, if you know what I mean,” he said, hoping she would get the point. Danner didn’t want to have to hurt her feelings by stemming off her advances if she persisted like she’d done in Demar.

  “Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said, and Danner couldn’t tell if she spoke with feigned enthusiasm or the real thing.

  “That’s a little prideful, don’t you think?” Trebor kythed to him. “Have women throwing themselves at you often, do you?”

  “So she’s genuinely pleased?” Danner thought with relief in his mind.

  “No, actually she was rather disappointed,” Trebor admitted blandly. “Heaven above knows why she’s hung up on you, but I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.”
>
  “Then what was that whole pride thing for?”

  “Just looking after the state of your soul, my brother,” Trebor kythed piously.

  “Go choke on something.”

  In the brief seconds that had passed during their exchange, Deeta had already straightened slightly so she no longer looked like she had melted onto Danner, and she looked around her. Trebor smiled politely, but Flasch stared at her body with a predator’s gaze. Danner suppressed a groan.

  “Well,” Deeta said, “I love seeing old friends, but I can’t sit and chat all night. I have to go earn a living. Unless one of you would care for a dance?” Now she only gave a passing glance to Danner and instead focused pointedly on Flasch, who grinned.

  “I believe a dance sounds marvelous,” Flasch replied, putting on a courtly air, “but someplace away from my friends, I think.”

  “Of course.”

  Deeta hopped off Danner’s lap and took Flasch’s proffered hand, then led the Violet paladin away toward a cushioned chair in a secluded corner.

  “I wouldn’t want them to be jealous,” Flasch said, then winked at Danner and Trebor behind Deeta’s back.

  “Well, maybe she wasn’t as hung up on you as I thought,” Trebor said blandly.

  “It’s rather what I would expect from her,” Danner said. “She latched onto me after only a few minutes, and has doubtless done so a hundred or so times before. Flasch is welcome to her.”

  “It still doesn’t say much for her taste in men,” Trebor commented dryly.

  “Good point,” Danner said. “I think.”

  - 2 -

  The next night, Trebor and Danner stayed at Faldergash’s house while the other four returned to Aunt Delia’s. They’d spent the day lounging around the portly gnome’s house, amusing themselves as best they could. Marc immediately sifted through the stack of books he’d left there and found one to read, and Garnet played board games with Michael and Trebor by turns. Danner and Flasch worked in the garage on the buggy Faldergash had given to Danner, tuning the engine under the gnome’s watchful gaze and making sure the vehicle was still road-worthy. Danner planned on bringing it back to the Prism’s chapterhouse when they left. Now that he was a full paladin, he could leave such things there in storage, where it would be more immediately accessible to him. Faldergash had already loaded the back seat with a few tools and a box full of the crystals he used to power the machine. A little bit of powder crushed from one of the crystals was mixed with mineral oil to create the fuel, with a little extra something Faldergash added to sustain the high-performance engine and give it a little extra kick over the standard fuel the dwarves used. There were two jugs of the special liquid, carefully sealed and protected to keep them from spilling, which could lead to the buggy exploding.