Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3)

by Brian J Moses

  This took them all aback. In all the time they had known each other, none of them had ever knowingly held back anything of importance, not since the days when they had first found out Trebor was a denarae and could read minds. Even when Garnet had been forcibly promoted as their commanding officer, still the group of friends had always shared everything. This was something new, then, and the platoon leaders glanced at each other in uncertainty.

  Only Michael had any inkling of what Garnet was talking about, and he shrank slightly in on himself as he considered the possibilities to which Garnet could be referring.

  “Now, to your question, Guilian,” Garnet continued brusquely. “Shadow Company has been specifically requested to investigate these deaths. Ostensibly, it’s because we’re still so well-respected in the community and people might feel reassured by our presence.”

  “Which is a load of crap,” Brican muttered.

  “I more or less agree with you, but you might be pleasantly surprised at how many people will smile at the sight of Shadow Company in the streets,” Garnet said firmly. He held Brican’s gaze a moment until the denarae officer nodded reluctantly.

  Garnet went on. “Realistically, we were recommended by certain people who are in a position to know just how good Shadow Company can be at interviewing people and getting the most from them. I trust it’s obvious why.”

  They all nodded.

  “Now, we’ve got twenty different scenes to explore,” Garnet pushed on, “so I want five platoons split into two squads each, and each squad will investigate two locations. I want approximate times of death, character profiles of the dead men, and any details you can get from people who were nearby. Have everyone stay in touch with each other, for every conceivable reason. Guilian, I want your platoon to stay here and start in on the ranged-weapon rotation you worked up. Red is still the heavy hitter, and I need your men to have their part down solid before the other platoons come up to speed.”

  The denarae platoon leader nodded crisply.

  Garnet frowned.

  “Are you all right, Guilian?” he asked seriously. “I know you’ve been getting a lot of the Home duty, which isn’t as much fun. Say the word, and I’ll reconsider.”

  “It’s nothing, sir,” he replied respectfully, but obviously he didn’t want to say anything else.

  “Hey, Brican,” Marc thought, knowing the denarae would pick it up, “what’s eating Guilian?”

  “I don’t know,” Brican kythed back. “He’s spent an awful lot of time blocking everyone from his thoughts lately, which I’ll admit is a little strange. Now shut up before he hears you thinking too loud.”

  Marc glowered at Brican covertly, but didn’t press the issue.

  “Alright then,” Garnet was saying, “I want you to cover these two, Danner, and Flasch, you take these,” he said, pointing at locations on the map. “Michael, here. Marc, and Brican. I’ll probably wander from place to place and see what’s going on, so keep me apprised as the opportunity arises.”

  “When are we doing this?” Marc asked.

  “Right now, gentlemen,” Garnet said grimly. “We need answers as soon as possible.”

  - 2 -

  Alister slammed the book closed and shoved it halfway across the desk. The heavy tome slid into a pile of neatly stacked papers and knocked them askew. A few of the sheets on top even flew off and fell to the floor. The Orange paladin scowled at the offending book as if it alone was responsible for disrupting the order of his desk.

  Bad enough he was being taken away from his studies, but to be forced into it on behalf of those dirty shads!

  Unlike most of the people in Nocka, Alister did not share in the sudden, ubiquitous acceptance of the lesser races that had followed the conclusion of the recent Barrier War. Alister distrusted even the most proven example of demi-humans, the elves, who could at least be counted on to stick to themselves. Dwarves and gnomes with their stunted bodies and twisted minds, however, tried to mingle freely with humans, polluting everyday human life with their gadgets and tinkerings. The Orange paladin only bought merchandise from known human manufacturers, such as those from Merishank.

  But worse than these races were the accursed denarae, who looked so much like humans it would be easy to mistake one at night, or who was wearing sufficient clothing to mask his inhumanity. Denarae were filthy, misbegotten creatures, and Alister had made it his life’s pursuit to prove their true historic origins, which he was convinced were demonic. He had recently uncovered some ancient manuscripts with disturbing implications about certain “gifts” the denarae were purported to possess.

  Mind-reading. Mind-speaking. Even mind-control, perhaps. These were all abilities ascribed to demons. Mere mortals should have none of these powers, and Alister was convinced they had been granted by Satan himself as part of some sinister bargain. Perhaps in return for delivering the human race to the Lord of Hell through some great betrayal. Already the demon-spawned shadowmen were infiltrating the ranks of the human military through that abominable company; winning awards and accolades better reserved for deserving humans. Who were they to act like some sort of saviors?

  And they were aided, no captained by paladins! These men were traitors in the eyes of God, as far as Alister was concerned. They should be able to recognize the demonic taint in their supposed followers, but were no doubt instead being led down the path toward corruption and damnation. The humiliation Alister had suffered at the hands of their commander, simply for expressing a resonable doubt to a comrade was intolerable. Fortunately, they hadn’t known the depths of Alister’s resentment, or else the muscle-headed paladin might well have slain him rather than face the righteousness of his anger.

  Alister ground his teeth in frustration. And here he was, being forced to work on their behalf, looking for any mention of another Merging in the ancient histories and philosophical writings. As if one Merging wasn’t enough, now they wanted to go off half-cocked searching for another one. Alister barely paid attention to the details and reasons spouted off to him, he’d been so furious about having to take time from his research.

  The door made a creaking noise behind him as though it had opened, but Alister was too absorbed in his thoughts to pay it any mind.

  Maybe he was getting close! They feared his knowledge, and they were trying to separate him from his work to keep him from the truth. Yes! That had to be it.

  “To Hell with them, and to Hell with their God-forsaken search,” Alister cried out loudly as he pushed himself back from his desk. “I shall resume my studies at once and prove to the world the truth about the demon-tainted filth that resides among us.”

  Alister reached for a book that had fallen to the floor and frowned as he saw a shadow cast from his arm where no shadow should be. The only lights in his office were on his desk, and while enough illumination reached the floor to make the writing on the book cover visible, there was no light source strong enough nor in a position to cause his arm to cast such a dark shadow over the book. The light would have to be behind him, near the door.

  The Orange paladin turned and gasped as a dark, cloaked figure suddenly became visible. A sort of dark, gray light seemed to emanate from within the heavy robes, which shifted and rustled as though something stirred on the stranger’s back.

  “Who are you?’ Alister cried. “What are you doing h….”

  The words died in his throat as the cloaked figure moved with inhuman speed, and suddenly Alister felt intense pain in his chest. He glanced down and saw a glowing sword of ethereal crystal slide out of his chest. Blood streamed from the wound in pulsing gushes – although none of it stained the blade of the unearthly sword – and the Orange paladin barely had the presence of mind to clap his hands over the injury to apply pressure.

  Alister stared up at the silent figure. The robes shifted, allowing him to see some of the body within, and his face blossomed into an expression of terror and horror.

  “I know you,” Alister gasped. “But how? Why?”<
br />
  “Because it is necessary,” came the ominous response. Then the crystal sword rose again, and Alister had a the barest instant of pain before darkness swallowed him.

  - 3 -

  Despite Garnet’s insistence on deploying immediately, it was nearly two hours before Shadow Company moved out. Many of the denarae had been on temporary leave, moving through the city on their own duty to avoid trouble and stay sober. These were summoned back by the denarae with the broadest kything range. Even though Shadow Company was about to move into the city and could very well have met up with the stragglers, Garnet refused to get into the practice of sending out his men in any state other than total readiness.

  Flasch wondered about the feasibility of planting denarae supporters at strategic intervals around the city, enabling news and messages to be passed across the city at the speed of thought. Before he could approach Garnet with the idea, however, the last of the denarae reported in and they were all ordered to disperse to their assigned tasks.

  Danner came downstairs rubbing sleep from his eyes. All of Danner’s soldiers were already present and accounted for, so he’d gone upstairs to catch a quick nap until everyone else was ready to go. From the looks of things, it hadn’t been very restful or refreshing.

  “You look like Hell, Danner,” Brican said.

  “So do you, but at least I’ll look better when I get some sleep,” Danner retorted irritably. “If I ever get any decent sleep. I swear, I get up feeling more worn out than when I lay down in the first place.”

  Garnet frowned.

  “Do you need to stay behind and rest, Danner?” he asked. “I’ll understand if you say yes.”

  Danner shook his head, scowling. “I’ll be fine. Just have someone pour me a cup of hot cahve, will you?”

  “Already done, love,” Alicia said, crossing the room with a steaming mug in her hand. Danner smiled gratefully and kissed her gently before accepting the drink and taking a deep gulp. Alicia squeezed his free hand, then disappeared back into the kitchen.

  Flasch smiled at the two. Even though they’d really only known each other for a half-year or so, they already acted like a couple who’d been married for years. Flasch wondered when and if he’d reach that same stage with the passionate Deeta, who’d been his companion for almost as long.

  Deeta was a thrill and a wonder to be with, especially in a physical sense, but there were times when Flasch wondered if something was missing between them. Neither of them had said the “love” word to each other yet, and he wasn’t sure if either of them felt it. Why didn’t they have that same sort of companionability that Danner and Alicia seemed to share? Marc and Janice had the same sort of closeness, but they’d been together unofficially for years.

  Flasch chased his own thoughts for a few minutes, then patiently put them aside yet again. He could examine his feelings and self-pity later. For now, there was work to do.

  A brief commotion near the door drew Flasch’s attention. A young man wearing a breastplate and the blue cloak of a paladin had just come in and immediately stumbled into one of the denarae housekeepers carrying a bucket of soapy water. She managed to save most of the liquid, but while trying to move away, the paladin slipped on a patch of the spilled, soapy water and crashed to the floor.

  As he got sheepishly to his feet, they finally got a look at who had arrived. Flasch recognized him as being from the same training group as the Shadow Company paladins, but couldn’t put a name to the face.

  “Maki?” Marc called.

  “Marc,” the Blue paladin replied, “good to see you.”

  “What’re you doing here?” Marc asked, crossing the room to clasp hands with their old training companion. “Not that it isn’t a pleasant surprise, but, well, it’s still a surprise.”

  “One of the Greens asked me to deliver a message to Garnet,” Maki replied, looking around the room for the Red paladin’s mountainous form. Marc grinned and pointed to a table only a few feet away, where Garnet was watching the two of them with an amused smile.

  “Garnet,” Maki said. He quickly walked over and handed a folded and sealed piece of paper to the Shadow Company commander. “It’s from Perklet, something about the dead paladins they brought in earlier.”

  Garnet nodded and walked away, silently scanning the contents of the letter. Flasch saw him frown and glance meaningfully at Michael, who had intently followed Garnet with his eyes. Flasch wondered what the two of them weren’t telling the rest of them.

  “Maki!”

  Flasch turned as Alicia emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray of broken mugs. She carefully set the tray down, then quickly crossed the room and gave the paladin a warm embrace. Maki’s face turned a brilliant shade of crimson, and he awkwardly hugged her back for a moment. Then he disengaged himself with a hesitant glance toward Danner, who was apparently still engrossed in finishing his cup of cahve. Finally Danner put the mug down, and only then did he seem to become aware of the new arrival.

  “Danner, you remember Maki,” Alicia said, motioning him over. “He, Jeremy, and Billy protected me when the demons attacked the Prismatic Council.”

  Flasch grimaced, hoping Danner hadn’t seen the look on Maki’s face a few moments ago. Flasch vaguely remembered Marc telling him about Maki’s role in protecting Alicia and how the Blue paladin apparently had a crush on her, but it was during the war and the details were sort of fuzzy in his head. He’d had much more important things on his mind then, like staying alive.

  Flasch really didn’t think it would be a problem, unless Danner turned out to be the jealous type. No one could doubt Alicia’s feelings for him, and she quite obviously felt only friendly gratitude and affection toward Maki for his role in protecting her, but still… you could never tell about some people.

  Everything seemed fine, however, as Danner crossed the room and clasped his fellow paladin’s hand in greeting. They exchanged words in low, companionable tones, and Flasch’s worries faded away.

  Nothing to worry about there.

  Chapter 6

  Faith is not a tool for learning, nor a path to knowledge. It is an experience and must always remain such.

  - Ventuveris,[13]

  “Modern Faith” (1027 AM)

  - 1 -

  Danner forced himself to smile pleasantly as he regarded the stern-faced woman before him. She held a broom in her hands as a warrior might hold a quarterstaff, and he found himself automatically shifting himself so he could better react if she did attack him.

  “An’ I tol’ you, I hain’t seen nothin’,” she said fiercely, scowling at him and the denarae behind him. “I don’ know why y’all all cain’t get it through yer thick ‘eads.”

  “Ma’am,” Danner said patiently, “the man was your husband, and he was found dead on the front steps of your house. You can understand how we can at least hope you might have seen or heard something more.”

  “I ‘eard ‘im cry out,” she said, “an’ I come runnin’. I opened th’ door, an’ there ‘e was, all cut up an’ dead like. Tha’s all I seen.”

  Danner withheld a sigh. The denarae accompanying him rustled slightly and made a note on the writing tablet he was carrying.

  “Forgive me, ma’am,” he said, “but you don’t seem overly distraught at your husband’s death.” She glowered at him, but stayed silent. “If you don’t mind my asking, was your husband a decent man? I know he was a soldier in the war, but that’s about all I know of him.”

  And at this rate, that may be all I ever know of him, Danner thought in frustration.

  “Aye, ‘e was a good ‘nuff sort,” she admitted grudgingly. “Prayed regular an’ al’ays acted nice t’ kids and such. Just didn’a ‘ave no vision, no ambitchin’, iffin you know what I’s sayin’.”

  Danner withheld a smile that threatened to cut through his weariness and irritation.

  “Are you getting anything, Treb..Trelik?” Danner asked mentally, stumbling over the denarae’s name. Silently, he cursed his own thought
s and steered them away from the sudden image of denarae in a blood-stained green cloak caught in a demon’s claws.

  “Um, well, sir, I can tell you she really didn’t see anything,” Trelik replied, his mental voice hesitant. No doubt he was tiptoeing around the images he was receiving from Danner’s mind. “She’s apparently very bitter her husband not only kept her in such poor quarters, but that he had the ill-grace to die and leave her stuck here alone.”

  “A model home, huh?” Danner thought. “Okay. Get what you can from her thoughts. We’re done here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Ma’am,” Danner said aloud, “I’d like to thank you for your cooperation and apologize for any additional pain or grief we may have caused you. Rest assured, we’ll find out who killed your husband and bring him to justice.”

  The woman grunted at him and stalked back into her home, still wielding her broom belligerently. Danner stared after her silently for a moment trying to settle his thoughts, then he turned and stepped back down into the street. Trelik followed silently behind him, his face carefully neutral.

  “Trelik, have Blue Platoon converge on me as they conclude their investigations and report what we’ve got so far,” Danner ordered. “As soon as we’re done here, I’m meeting the other officers at the chapterhouse to discuss our findings.”

  “Understood, sir,” Trelik replied. “They’re on their way in.”

  - 2 -

  In another section of the city, Brican was having considerably more success with his investigations, which surprised him. Garnet had said he would receive a warm reception with the people of Nocka, but Brican hadn’t really believed him. The Shadow Company commander was a good man and Brican considered him a friend, but he was still a human and therefore somewhat blind to the racial antagonism of his own people. This time, however, it appeared Garnet was right, which perplexed Brican.