In the distance, the mists swirled as a dark shape skimmed the treetops gliding on powerful, leathery wings. The dim, struggling light from the sun shone briefly on blue scales before the clouds once more choked off the radiance from the light-giving orb.
The blue dakkan glided lazily over the slopes of the mountains, following a silent urge within his body as old as life and irresistible as time itself. His eyes skimmed the air above him as well as the ground below, seeking the source of the overwhelming hunger that had overtaken his awareness. He uttered two short, piercing cries, announcing his presence to the one he knew was somewhere nearby, then bellowed a long, fierce call to ward off any other males who might be scouring the area as well.
Somewhere in the mists below, a loud, bugling call pierced the mists, and the blue dakkan wheeled quickly and with sudden purpose toward the sound. It had recognized the cry of a female dakkan in heat, the source of his sudden urge and hunger.
There! The mists parted as a large green dakkan broke through the gray shroud and launched herself into the clear air. She turned her head briefly and called to the blue, taunting him to keep up with her, to catch her and claim her. She was a fair-sized dakkan, almost equal to the blue. He immediately pumped his wings and called out again, a declaration of his strength and longing. The blue pursued the green as she vanished into the mists, and soon he, too, was swallowed up by a swirl of the thick, gray veil.
From his perch atop a large boulder, Garnet jo’Garet watched the mating flight until the two dakkans had vanished from sight. To witness the courtship of wild dakkans was a rare privilege, and he’d remained silent and relaxed throughout the ritual. The green female was swift, but he’d seen the power and obvious endurance of the blue, and he was certain the ritual would end well for both dakkans. Dakkans mated for life, so a good outcome now would bring them both fortune for decades, perhaps centuries.
“I hope that’s a good sign for this expedition,” he murmured to himself. “It’s certainly more positive than that moon and this damned mist.”
Overhead, Sin lingered in the sky, its full shape still visible through a break in the clouds in what was called the Crow Moon. San was nowhere in sight and waning less than half-full – even were it visible, its presence would pale in comparison with its heavenly partner. The strong presence of Sin and the absence of San was a dire omen to those who cared about such things – Garnet put little stock in superstition, but even he was hard-pressed to ignore the unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach as he glanced at the baleful glimmer of Sin. Shoving aside his ill ease, Garnet spared a few seconds more to look toward the sky where the dakkans had vanished, hoping they might come back toward him in their flight, but he quickly gave up that hope and turned his mind to the task at hand.
“Brican, give me a status report on Shadow Company,” he thought, sending his mental voice out to where he knew it would be heard.
“Red, violet, green, and yellow all report in position, sir,” came the reply as Garnet heard Brican’s mental voice sound inside his head. “Blue and orange estimate three and two minutes respectively.”
“Relay to Danner to get his ass moving. I want him in position by the time Marc is set up. End,” Garnet said. “Relay to Marc, I want him in position before Danner catches up and beats him. End.”
“Yes, sir.”
Brican broke off the mental contact, leaving Garnet alone again with his thoughts. He enjoyed a long moment of silence until Brican again contacted him.
“Blue and Orange platoons both report in position, sir.”
“Who won?” Garnet asked.
“Blue, by a hair.”
Garnet smiled. “Good. Now, how are our guests?”
“Honestly, they’re a handful, but they’re ready,” Brican kythed[3], losing some of the military formality in his voice. “I may never forgive you for making me babysit them, though.”
“It’s good experience for you,” Garnet said with a mental chuckle. “You said you were nervous about what’s going to happen when Caeesha has the twins, so I thought you could use some parenting practice.”
“There’s a world of difference between babysitting two kids and babysitting a dozen full-grown human men, much less paladins,” Brican kythed sourly in reply. “Half of them don’t really like me all that much, either because I’m denarae or because you put me nominally in charge of them, take your pick.”
“Deal with it,” Garnet said without much sympathy. Brican had actually just hit on the real reason Garnet had sent him with the group of paladins. He knew some of them were prejudiced against denarae, and he was trying to break Brican of some of his own antagonism toward humans by making him face their racism head-on. Putting him amidst a group of humans who harbored xenophobic tendencies might not be the best way to do so, but Garnet believed the extra exposure to humans could only benefit the denarae officer.
The animosity against denarae, particularly by humans, had largely stopped in the area around the city of Nocka,[4] due almost solely to the role of Shadow Company in the recent war against the demonic forces of Hell. The soldiers of Nocka – human, elven, gnomish, and dwarven – had all witnessed the tremendous bravery and fortitude of the denarae company, and by the end of the war, the gray-skinned humanoids were actually accepted by the majority of the city. Even those who hadn’t witnessed Shadow Company’s performance first-hand heard about it from those who had, and the reputation of the elite unit grew to nearly legendary proportions almost overnight.
Not for the first time, Garnet was thankful for the denarae ability to read the thoughts of humans and other denarae. This ability – “kything” as they called it – was the secret to Shadow Company’s success, that and the brilliant training and leadership of Gerard Morningham, the Red paladin originally placed in charge of the denarae company. Gerard had taken in the group of three hundred denarae and trained them as no other unit, combining combat, stealth, subterfuge, and the denarae mind-reading ability to create one of the most lethally efficient fighting forces the world had ever seen.
Their ranks had been thinned considerably by the war; fully half of the denarae in Shadow Company had given their lives in defense of Nocka, including Garnet’s close friend, Trebor Dok. Gerard himself had died outside the walls of the Barrier, and command of the unit had passed on to Garnet.
For a split second, when he’s heard the wild, male dakkan’s cries, Garnet had wondered if Sabor had returned. The vicious-looking red dakkan hadn’t been seen since the death of his rider, and Garnet feared the dakkan had gone feral since Gerard’s demise. Garnet had briefly fantasized about Sabor coming to him, inheriting the dakkan as he had Shadow Company, like a sign of approval or sign of leadership he sometimes questioned whether or not he possessed.
Since the war’s end nearly two months past, Shadow Company had focused on rebuilding its numbers from fresh recruits of denarae, and now they were back to their original, full strength of three hundred fighting men. In addition, Garnet had acquired a full supply and support team, whether he wanted it or not; many of the denarae had brought their families with them. Now a whole platoon of wives, sisters, and daughters prepared meals for the men of Shadow Company, while another group of younger men and women kept the cooks supplied with fresh meat and other foodstuffs. The younger denarae honed their hunting skills to provide meat for Shadow Company and trained as warriors in the hope that they, too, might be called on to join the elite unit.
Garnet had done his best to train and craft his unit in the same spirit of lethal excellence Gerard Morningham had originally instilled in them all, and he hoped he was doing a passing job of living up to his mentor’s example. Somewhere, he dared to imagine Gerard was looking down from Heaven and smiling in approval. With the majority of their training complete, Garnet had volunteered the services of Shadow Company in assisting the Prismatic Order in hunting down pockets of demons trapped in the mortal world. For whatever reason, not all the demons had disappeared at the end of the war, espe
cially in the more remote areas of the world. Garnet viewed it as the perfect training opportunity for a time he knew would come soon.
“We’re in position now, sir,” Brican kythed, interrupting Garnet’s thoughts. Brican had dropped the bantering tone he sometimes took with Garnet and the other paladins in Shadow Company, a sure sign he was getting down to business. Gradually, Brican had revealed himself to be just as much of a rogue as his cousin Trebor had ever been, but he still suffered from what Marc called “reverse racism” against most humans, a trait Trebor had never exhibited.
“Trebor and I didn’t exactly have the same life growing up,” Brican kythed shortly, having read Garnet’s train of thought. “No disrespect intended, of course, sir.”
Garnet sighed.
“Leave it alone, Brican,” he thought. “Sometime you’ll have to explain to me just what was so terrible about your past, but for now, let’s get to work.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Take me through the rainbow, standard order.”
Garnet closed his eyes, and suddenly he was looking out through the eyes of Guilian, the denarae platoon leader of Red Platoon. Brican read the thoughts and vision of the denarae officer and relayed the images directly to Garnet, allowing him to see what his men saw. It was a handy tool when there was time to properly position and orient the viewers, but its use was limited by the strain on the denarae relaying the image and the disorientation it caused in the viewer.
He was used to the effects by now, so the side-effects to Garnet were minimal, but he knew by the end of just a few moments of using the technique he would have a strong headache. Several minutes of use would leave him dizzy and unable to properly control his body. The effects of long-term use were speculative at best, but the possibilities Marc had suggested had proven graphic enough to deter experimentation.
Through Guilian’s eyes, Garnet saw the layout of the enemy camp. Demons did not need to truly sleep, nor did they need to cook their food, so the term “camp” was really only loosely applicable, to Garnet’s mind. They did post sentries and congregate around what passed for leadership among their ranks. Any mortals – be they human or demi-human[5] – unfortunate enough to be caught by a group of demons were inevitably brought back to the most powerful demons as sacrificial offerings, so the lesser demons crowded around them begging for scraps. Garnet had seen the clothing remains of at least a dozen men scattered about the place where the demons had stayed the previous night. Getting an exact number of victims had been impossible; there just weren’t enough bones left intact to know for sure.
Shadow Company had been stalking through the mountains for nearly a week, trying to catch sight of this pack of demons. A double jintaal[6] of paladins, a dozen holy warriors in all, had been sent with them to augment the five paladins permanently assigned to Shadow Company. Flasch’s platoon had found the site of the slaughter yesterday, and they’d tracked the demons to their current position.
A dull aching in Garnet’s head warned him to hurry with his survey of the platoons.
“Next.”
Brican switched Garnet’s borrowed vision so he was looking through Marc’s eyes.
“Tell Marc to pan left.”
The mental picture moved accordingly, and Garnet saw the demon camp from another angle.
“Next.”
In quick succession, Garnet scanned through the eyesight of his platoon leaders, moving on to Michael, then Brican himself (Garnet only paused briefly here to check on the paladins being escorted by Green Platoon), and then Danner, and finally Flasch. Violet Platoon was the furthest away from any potential action, because they were the most mobile and adaptable of the denarae warriors and could be anywhere at a moment’s notice.
“Cut it off,” Garnet said wearily as he fought against the pounding in his head. He’d held on to the shared vision longer than he should have, but he should be fully recovered in only a moment.
“Alright, I want Blue Platoon to split and move in, infiltration pattern alpha,” Garnet ordered. “As soon as Danner calls it clear, notify me, then relay red and yellow to move in, following blue’s lead. Hold green until we’re engaged, then assault from the south on my order only. I want orange to hold north and look for stragglers. Violet is on standby. Relay to Flasch, he’s on his own unless specifically ordered by me. End.”
Even as Garnet was sending his mental orders to Brican, the denarae officer was passing them on to their intended recipients.
“Oh, and relay to Danner, he is NOT to go angel unless absolutely necessary,” Garnet thought sternly. Danner had shown a strong tendency toward unpredictability where demons were concerned, and Garnet didn’t want things to suddenly get out of hand.
“All orders received,” Brican reported, then he added, “and Danner’s thinking some rather unflattering thoughts about you right now.”
“Fine, just so long as he follows orders.”
Garnet paused a moment to review the layout of the battle in his head, looking for any potential hazards that could cost his company. At the point where he started trying to second-guess his own doubts, he clamped down on his thoughts and brushed aside everything but what was to come.
“Execute,” he barked mentally.
- 2 -
While Danner took Blue Platoon forward, Garnet moved carefully down from the rocks he’d been standing on and wound his way toward Green Platoon. He nodded briefly to Brican, but made no other greeting. The denarae was typical of his race, if larger and more heavily muscled than average. His skin was the color of dark slate, his hair and eyes were dark, and he kept his hair cut short in a style reminiscent of the Merishank army. Brican’s face showed evidence of the rogue that lay inside, covered by layers of pain and mistrust toward a world dominated by a people who hated him. There was some familial resemblance between Brican and his cousin Trebor, but it was hard to see behind Brican’s racial animus.
Garnet left Brican behind him, trusting the denarae to keep hold of his feelings and do his job.
The Red paladin had learned a valuable, if unintentional, lesson from Gerard: he never planned out or ordered company formations from within any of the platoons if he could help it. Standing with one platoon, it was too easy to view the battle from just their perspective, rather than examining it from every possible angle and strategic viewpoint. Separating himself allowed Garnet to keep his attention – his self of perspective – unencumbered by a single point of view. It was something Gerard had done instinctively and hadn’t thought to tell Garnet, and had Garnet not been using the denarae ability to kythe him their sight from the first days of his command, he might not have truly appreciated the instinctive genius of his mentor.
As a bonus, the silent ability of command lent an aura of mystique to Shadow Company that kept many in awe of them. They occasionally had someone pretend to relay orders by voice alone, just to keep up the pretense and hide the denarae ability to read and send their thoughts. Historically, this ability had turned humans against them with such vehemence that the denarae had spent centuries regarded as the most despised of all races. Even after the rest of the world had forgotten the reason, still they hated with mindless adherence to institutionalized bigotry. Garnet and the other humans who associated with Shadow Company were all pledged to help protect that secret. Thanks to Shadow Company, the first steps had been taken to reverse the discrimination against denarae, but the sudden revelation of their mental abilities could have catastrophic effects, even against this celebrated unit.
“What’s the word, son?”
Garnet turned and grinned at his father. Garnet was the spitting image of his father, Garet jo’Meerkit, and when the two embraced, most people swore they heard mountains shift and trees topple. The two sandy-haired Red paladins were easily the largest men in the group, towering head and shoulders above most of the others and outweighing them by at least fifty pounds of pure muscle.
“Everything’s in position, dad,” he replied. “Standard ‘Y-formation’
of attack, and we’re the base. As soon I get the signal the arms have engaged, we’ll move in and crush them.”
“Good,” Garet said with a grin that mirrored his son’s. “I’ve been itching for another fight after that Scraton River fiasco two weeks ago.”
Garnet winced. “Yeah, I heard about that. Two men dead, and a whole group of demons got away.”
“Fled in terror is more like it,” Garet snorted. “One minute they’re fighting like cornered curs, the next they’ve turned tail and disappeared like rats. We only had the standard six in the jintaal, so we didn’t have the strength left to track them down. I hear the Council is sending a double up there next week to try and track them down to finish the job.”
“Hence the extra strength here,” Garnet said, nodding his head. “I wondered why we were being bolstered for a standard track and exterminate.”
Father and son regarded each other in silence for a moment. Garnet could see the beginning signs of age in his father’s body, but the older paladin was still strong and counted as one of the best warriors in the Prism. Garnet had a hard time imagining his father as old and infirmed. Growing up in the household of a paladin warrior, Garnet had lived with the constant threat that his father might not come home. By the time Garnet began to mature, it was all but accepted as fact that his father would die one day on the field of battle faithfully serving the Prismatic Order.
Equally accepted by that time was that Garnet himself would follow in his father’s footsteps and join the Prism. Garet began to train his eldest son at an early age, teaching him swordsmanship and various other forms of combat during the intermittent months of respite he had between missions for the Prism. By the time Garnet had entered his training, he was already a better swordsman than most Red paladins, and only Gerard Morningham had proved consistently better. Gerard had then taken Garnet under his wing for more advanced training, and eventually Garnet had outstripped even his now-departed mentor.
Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) Page 2