Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3)

by Brian J Moses

  What’s that all about? Danner wondered, frowning slightly.

  He’d loosened up considerably since his fight with Kaelus, but the Angel of Death had always been a little strange around Danner, ever since they first got him to start talking to them. He avoided Danner whenever possible, even to the point of ignoring him at times, or so it seemed to Danner. Thinking back, Mikal appeared uncomfortable around the denarae, too.

  How had he not seen it before? Danner hadn’t noticed the Seraph acting that way toward any of the other humans, and the only thing Danner could think of that set him aside from the others was, of course, the most obvious. He was half angel. But why should the angel from Heaven treat him any differently because of that?

  Chapter 12

  The virtues are not isolated concepts, but rather rely on each other inherently. Each requires courage to maintain in the face of adversity. Piety leads to faith in the virtues themselves. Love promotes the others and gives them a reason for existing.

  - “An Examination of Prismatic Virtue” (801 AM)

  - 1 -

  Garnet passed the word through Brican that he was going to be leaving the company for a short time to visit his home, and he invited any of the officers to come along who so desired. Danner immediately leapt at the opportunity, and he was quickly joined by Brican and Flasch. Marc and Michael decided they’d better stay behind and keep an eye on the unit. Guilian just gave a vague, negative response and left it at that.

  “Besides, our old family farm was near here until we lost it when our parents died, so I’ve already met Garnet’s mother plenty of times,” Marc said. “So has Flasch, he just thinks Garnet’s sister is cute.”

  Flasch grimaced and turned away.

  Marc grinned and leaned close to Danner to murmur, “Garnet’s little sister has a huge crush on Flasch, but she’s as ugly as Garnet is big. Drives him nuts.”

  “Why is he going then?” Danner asked.

  “I think she talked him into some promise years ago that whenever Garnet came to visit, Flasch would come, too,” Marc said with a chuckle. “The one time he didn’t go with Garnet to visit, little Anolla followed Garnet back to Nocka and whined at Flasch for a week straight until he vowed to never again break his promise. She has a very… ah, piercing voice. Fortunately for him, Garnet hasn’t gone home since at least a year before we joined the Prism. I think Flasch views that as sort of an answer to his prayers, and that, more than anything, started him on a life of faith as a Violet.”

  Danner laughed as he turned away to find a mount to ride. It was pointless to unpack his buggy to fit more people just so he could go on a family visit with Garnet, then repack it afterwards. He glanced over and saw Alicia sitting in his buggy with Deeta and Moreen, talking animatedly about something. The energy in her speech and motions brought a smile to Danner’s lips.

  Garet and Perklet went along with them, so the group ended up riding triple on Garet’s yellow and Perklet’s violet-scaled dakkan.

  “Hey, Garnet,” Flasch said as the runner-dakkans sped off down a small road, “when are we going to get dakkans of our own? We’re paladins, after all.”

  “When you’re old enough to take care of one yourself,” Garet answered before his son could reply. “You need to learn proper care and responsibility first. Start on something smaller and more manageable first. Get yourself a cat.”

  “I had a cat,” Flasch yelled back over the sound of the dakkan’s footsteps. “He ran away.”

  “Well, there you go.” Garet turned and winked at his son, who laughed uproariously.

  Danner twisted about to look at the Violet paladin riding just behind him. “So, Flasch, looking forward to seeing Garnet’s sister? What was her name? Anolla?”

  “Annoy-a is more like it,” Flasch grumbled.

  Twenty minutes later, Danner peeked over Perklet’s shoulder and saw a small farmstead coming into view. The trail led to the front door of a large cottage, and Danner could just see a sizable barn and an outhouse behind the simple home. Two smaller barns were just visible tucked behind the larger structures. The buildings and the surrounding land were encompassed by a stout, split-rail fence that came up almost to the shoulders of their dakkans as they passed through the gate.

  The paladins slowed their dakkans’ pace to a trot, and as they approached the house, three people walked out to greet them. Foremost was a young man almost as large as Garnet and obviously related, but year or two behind their friend in age.

  Following him was a younger boy who was apparently still growing into his own size. His arms and legs seemed a little too long for his body and slightly uncoordinated, as though he hadn’t quite gotten used to them yet. The promise of size was there, but his awkwardness made Danner think back on some of his more painful years of growing up.

  Last in the group was what Danner took to be a woman, but she was covered from head to toe in a thick cloak, despite the warm weather.

  “Is she really that ugly?” Danner whispered to Flasch as they all dismounted.

  “Danner, you have no idea,” Flasch replied. “She once made a blind man flinch.”

  Garnet and his father moved forward eagerly to greet the trio. The younger boys quickly abandoned all attempts at decorum and raced forward to embrace their father and brother. Backs were pounded, laughs were exchanged, and seconds later Garnet and his two brothers were all wrestling on the ground.

  “Boys, boys! Garnet, Brad, Bronk, what would your mother say?” Garet said with a mock glare, but he quickly laughed when they paused their bout to stare up at him with identical looks of innocence. Then Bronk elbowed Garnet in the side, and the wrestling match resumed with full fervor.

  “And Anolla, come give your father a hug,” Garet said, casually stepping over a leg that suddenly thrust itself in his path from the wrestling trio.

  Father and daughter embraced, then she turned almost immediately toward Flasch and approached him. The Violet paladin shuffled nervously, and Danner was forced to hide a smile.

  “Hello, Flasch,” Anolla said in a low, hushed voice.

  “Hey, Anolla,” Flasch replied with a too-bright voice. “I’d say you’re looking well, but it’s a little hard to see under that clo…”

  Flasch’s voice faded as his jaw abruptly dropped almost to his chest in shock. Anolla lifted the hood from her face, and even Danner couldn’t withhold a gasp.

  Anolla’s hair was radiant in the sunshine, and her skin was deeply tanned and beautifully smooth. She had strong features like her father and brothers, but they were softened by a definite femininity that gave her an absolutely stunning appearance. She was no great beauty, but there was something open and honest about her that made an impact. Sapphire eyes glittered as her cherry-red lips twitched in suppressed mirth.

  Flasch choked and spluttered a moment, trying to regain his senses.

  Garnet had apparently finished his wrestling match, because he suddenly was standing behind Anolla. Anolla was larger than an average woman, but nowhere near the towering mass her brothers had inherited from their father. Garnet lifted her up easily in his arms, showering them all with dirt. Anolla laughed musically and twisted in her brother’s grasp so she easily slid out and landed on the ground, already hugging him.

  Garnet stared at his sister in surprise, then grinned. He glanced over at Flasch, who still stood dumbstruck and gaping.

  “Well, little Annoy-a finally grew into her own, eh?” Garnet said, rubbing one hand on her head.

  “Stop it, rock-head, you’re getting me all dirty,” Anolla said, pushing his hand away.

  “You’re dirty every day of your life, Anolla,” Brad said. He was as covered in dirt as Garnet, and grinning just as broadly. “Why you wanted to be all pretty today is beyond me.”

  “Hush, Bradley,” Anolla said, but Bronk immediately chimed in.

  “It’s because that guy said Garnet and some friends would be coming by today,” the youngest brother said. His voice cracked twice, and he turned crims
on in embarrassment.

  “What guy?” Garnet asked, his eyebrows drawn together.

  “He’s a weird one,” Brad answered. “He and some woman showed up two days ago looking for someplace to stay the night, so mom put them up in the barn.”

  “Brad offered up your room, well, his room,” Bronk chimed in excitedly, “even though he didn’t want to, but they said no.”

  Brad elbowed his brother, conveniently pushing him back out of the way, and continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “Then they asked if they could help out to earn their keep for a couple days until you all showed up. I don’t know how they knew, but he assured us you would be here today.”

  “The old man’s about a cracked as they come, but the woman’s something else,” Bronk said, rubbing his side and glaring at his next older brother. “Brad here has been trying to make friendly with her since she first showed up, but she won’t have nothing to do with him.”

  “Have anything to do with her,” Garet corrected his son sternly. Bronk grimaced.

  “I have not,” Brad protested angrily. “I’m trying to be polite to a guest.”

  “I didn’t see you offering to walk the old man back to the barn last night,” Bronk said slyly.

  “Why you little,” Brad growled and launched himself at his younger brother. They disappeared on the ground in a cloud of dust.

  “Boys can be such a pain sometimes,” Anolla said with a sigh.

  “Anolla?” Flasch suddenly exclaimed in surprise. They all turned to stare at the Violet paladin, but that was apparently the extent of his verbal capacity at the moment.

  Brican and Perklet, who had been hanging back slightly taking care of the dakkans, walked up and looked at them.

  “What a lovely young woman,” Perklet said in a soft, cheerful voice. “Can this possibly be the little girl I helped deliver?”

  “And here Garnet told us you were as ugly as a Borin bear,” Brican said.

  Anolla glared at her eldest brother, who in turn glared at Brican. The denarae ignored the look and instead nodded with his head toward Flasch.

  “What’s with him?” he asked with perfect innocence.

  Garet came up behind them all, one hand clasped firmly on the shoulders of Brad and Bronk – who were thus held separated by their father’s broad body.

  A woman’s figure stood in the open doorway of the cottage, hands on hips. Based on Garet and Garnet’s conversations of her, and just by looking at Garnet’s size, Danner was expecting someone who would tower over any man not in her family, and he wouldn’t have been surprised to see a large skillet in one hand being wielded like a club.

  Instead, he looked at the woman in the doorway and estimated she would barely come up to his shoulder, and Danner was far from being tall. Her heart-shaped face was simple and angelically sweet, and she even wore a small flower on the bonnet she wore. He nudged Garnet.

  “That’s your mother?” he asked incredulously. Garnet nodded.

  “Mom’s a little on the small side,” Garnet said with a shrug.

  Brican turned to look, and he was overcome by a look of complete bafflement. He looked back and forth between Garnet and his tiny mother. “Wh…. Who… Okay, wait, how?” he exclaimed, making vague sizing motions with his hands.

  “Well, come on, all,” Garet said. “Your mother looks a little impatient. Let’s go get some food.”

  He cast a considering eye on Flasch, who was still staring raptly at Anolla.

  - 2 -

  Kala watched the group come in, sizing them up one-by-one. First was the father, Garet, and it was immediately obvious where his sons had gotten their size and strength. He was followed by the two sons she’d already met. The youngest was charming in a boyish sort of way, but the elder of the two was quickly growing tiresome in his painfully obvious advances toward her. Bronk was talking animatedly about the wild drann that had taken up residence in the smallest barn and his plans to catch and tame it.

  Next was the daughter, and Kala smiled slightly when she came in. Anolla was as obvious as Bradley in her own way, and Kala had only a moment to wait to see the result of her quiet campaign. A short, skinny, young man wearing leather armor with a paladin’s breastplate and violet cloak walked in, and Kala was surprised his tongue wasn’t lolling out like a panting dog. His eyes followed Anolla constantly until the father deliberately stood in front of him with crossed arms and a baleful glare.

  “Ahem,” Garet said, deliberately clearing his throat.

  “Sorry,” the Violet paladin said, his face rapidly turning crimson.

  Next was another sleight-of-frame paladin, this one wearing a blue cloak. Something about him made Kala uneasy, like he was there but wasn’t – she shook her head at the perception, trying to identify what was missing. Subconsciously, her hand drifted toward the hilt of the small sword tucked into her belt. On this one’s heels was a denarae, which made Kala frown. A denarae, walking equally with humans? The elders in her village had always told her that never happened in the outside world. Both were about her own age, which reassured her for some reason.

  Last came two more paladins, an older, gentle-looking Green and a Red, who was obviously the final son they’d been expecting. Kala eyed him carefully, and aside from his size – which was exceptional anywhere but in this household – there didn’t seem to be anything immediately impressive about him. Why, then, had Trames insisted on coming here and meeting with him?

  Try finding the why in anything a madman does, she thought with some asperity.

  Just then, Trames wandered into the room from the kitchen, so introductions were quickly made. Danner, Flasch, Brican, Perklet, and Garet. And Garnet.

  The denarae Brican nearly jumped out of his skin when Kala kythed a greeting directly into his mind.

  “How does a human come to have kything abilities?” Brican asked, stunned.

  “I am one quarter denarae, from my mother’s side,” Kala replied calmly. “How does a denarae in the outer world come to walk on equal footing with humans?”

  Brican’s mental voice chuckled. “I’m still trying to figure that out myself sometimes. Suffice to say, these aren’t your average humans. Nor are you, it seems.”

  They shared a secret smile as Garet’s wife Alessa finished introducing her guests to the newcomers.

  Kala nodded as she was introduced. She was as tall or taller than all but Garet and Garnet, and her body was lithe and tightly muscled as befitted a warrior woman. Her dark hair was carefully bound in a thick braid that spilled down her back to just past her shoulder blades. She wore tight but comfortable brown leather trousers, sturdy riding boots, a white tunic, and a form-fitting leather vest, one hand resting comfortably near the tsuka of the curved sword at her hip.

  “And this is Trames,” Alessa said. She gestured to where the crazy older man had been standing only a moment before, but he was gone. Kala glanced around hurriedly, but found her charge sitting at the dining table with a large pot of honey in front of him.

  Trames had obviously left his youth behind long ago, but his face had not yet fully creased with wrinkles of age. He was, however, completely bald, and for now at least had a well-groomed moustache and goatee of thick, white hair. Trames had a tendency to grow out his facial hair one week, then abruptly shave it off and remain smooth-faced for a few days. He wore simple, loose-fitting clothing, always in earth-tones of brown and off-white.

  Kala withheld a sigh as she saw what the old man had been up to. He had dipped a narrow, wooden stirring spoon in and was happily swirling it around in the jar, then he shoved the spoon in his mouth – miraculously without spilling any honey on himself or getting it caught in his facial hair – and made chewing motions with his mouth as he licked the spoon clean without it ever leaving his mouth.

  “Trames,” Kala said in exasperation as he removed the now-clean spoon from his mouth.

  “I love honey,” he said, as if that was the only explanation needed. Kala glared at him. Trames looke
d like he was at least sixty years old, but the elders in her village assured her he was much older than that. No one seemed to know exactly how old Trames was, though, perhaps not even Trames, who seemed to have a different answer every time someone asked him. Her uncle had told her that Trames had already looked old when he himself had been a boy, and that for an “old man” he just didn’t seem to age. Kala was convinced her uncle was pulling her leg, but some of the rumors about Trames had made her a little less sure of herself. The clearest answer she’d ever gotten from Trames himself had been that he ate right, aged well, and was a few years older than his teeth.

  She stared at Trames silently until he finally said pleadingly, “She said it was extra, and we can pay for it.”

  “Heaven knows it’s fine, dear,” Alessa said, waving a hand before Kala could protest. “Without Garnet coming around so often, I not only can keep the stuff on my shelf, but I’ve actually started to stockpile. I never have gotten the hang of feeding less than ten stomachs worth of food.”

  “Garnet was three of those,” Anolla whispered loudly to no one in particular.

  Garnet looked embarrassed.

  “Mom, I’m sorry I haven’t been by more,” he said a bit sheepishly. “I’ve… well, I’ve been just a bit busy, you know?”

  “Oh, I don’t blame you at all, Garnet,” Alessa said kindly, which somehow made Garnet look even more unhappy.

  “Garnet’s a big important warrior now, isn’t he?” Bronk asked, an excited expression on his youthful face.

  “Well, the big part’s right,” Brican murmured under his breath to Danner.

  “Jury’s still out on the ‘important’ bit,” Danner replied in the same tone.

  Kala looked at them curiously. Brican noticed the look and winked at her.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Brican kythed to her.

  “Dear, dear, Perklet,” Alessa said, standing on her tiptoes to embrace the Green paladin. “It has been far too long since you’ve been to visit.”

  “You know each other?” Danner asked in surprise.