Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3)

by Brian J Moses

  “Get to your platoons and be ready,” Garnet ordered. “I need to brief Siran and my father, then I’ll be on-hand.”

  With that, Garnet turned and strode swiftly toward the main body of the marching paladins.

  Danner, Brican, and Flasch looked at each other a moment, then simultaneously they shrugged and hurried off to their respective platoons.

  - 3 -

  Gerard glowered at the map on the ground in front of him. Hell’s armies blanketed the lands beyond the choke point they were approaching, and it seemed only the presence of Heaven’s rivers was preventing them from sweeping around and annihilating the fragile stronghold.

  Yet, it wasn’t the dire circumstances of the war that occupied his mind.

  Not five minutes ago, Gerard had been ordering the movement of troops, using angelic messengers dispatched by Mikal to carry word to the stronghold that they were approaching and what actions he wanted taken in preparation for their arrival. He planned out the deployment of the spear of paladins that would soon pierce the enemy’s front lines and send them back reeling. He set the elves on their flank to provide the paladins some measure of protection in case they overextended themselves. He set the flight patterns of angels who would provide covering fire from the air.

  And he set the deployment of Shadow Company with orders to be passed on to each of the platoons, so he could shift the platoons around to capitalize on the skills they had honed.

  “No, sir, we won’t deploy like that. That’s foolishness, Gerard.”

  Garnet’s words had stilled all noise in the command tent Gerard and a select few others occupied – those who were capable of keeping secret the identity of the true commander of the Heavenly Host: the demon Kaelus.

  “My presence here will be impossible to hide,” Kaelus had said, “but my status must be concealed.”

  At the time, only Mikal, Birch, Kaelus, and Uriel were present in the tent with them. The four of them stared at Garnet with something akin to amazement, and only Uriel had dared to smile amidst the sudden tension in the tent.

  “What did you say?” Gerard asked slowly.

  “I said that’s a foolish way to deploy Shadow Company,” Garnet said. “Three months ago, that would have been an excellent plan. Since then, however, things have changed, and that won’t work anymore. We’re trained differently now, at least in some areas, and the company doesn’t function like it used to.”

  “What do you mean, doesn’t function like it used to?” Gerard asked, not bothering to conceal his rising anger. “I built and trained that company as the most lethal, most diverse fighting force ever. I thought I taught you better than that, lad. I thought you understood that when I turned things over to you. What do you mean by changing that design?”

  “It’s my company, Gerard,” Garnet said, his voice quiet and his gaze intense. He locked eyes with Gerard. “Turned things over? You died. You were no more ready to turn things over than I was to take control, but we were neither one given a choice, were we?”

  “Why you insolent…”

  “It’s my company, Gerard,” Garnet repeated, louder this time and more firmly. “You trained Shadow Company for the needs of the time. When someone needed something impossible done, we did it. We were the best, and you made us that way. At the time.

  “That time is past now, and it’s a new monster we face with new weapons made to fight him,” Garnet said forcefully. “If you need the impossible, we’re still the ones to call on, just tell us what, when, and where. But you let me decide how it’s done, and I command my own unit. I know my company, and I know its capabilities better than I know my own family.”

  Gerard glared at him, silently fuming as he sorted through Garnet’s words. When he didn’t respond, Garnet continued in a milder tone of voice.

  “I remember how much you hated interference from the Prismatic Council and the military bureaucracy of Nocka’s defenders,” Garnet said with a slight smile. “If I have an unusually strong desire for the autonomy of my command and for my leadership style, you have only yourself to blame as my example.”

  Gerard had laughed then, a sharp barking sound that did wonders to relieve the silent tension in the canvas confines of the tent. After a few more arguments on both sides, Gerard had dismissed Garnet to see to the deployment of his company. After he was gone, however, Gerard dropped the façade of good-natured understanding and humor.

  Oh, he understood Garnet’s arguments, and Gerard was forced to admit he was right. Gerard was trying to interfere in the same way he’d once so resented from others above him, and there should be no excuse for that. But this was different! He understood things in a way those desk-pounding bureaucrats above him had never been able to – he was a warrior first and foremost. His perspective was different, which made his interference different.

  Didn’t it?

  “Everybody thinks they know better, Gerard,” Uriel said.

  Gerard scowled at him.

  “Stay out of my head, angel boy,” Gerard growled.

  “Even when you’re playing the fool?” Uriel asked, grinning. “I admit, I don’t usually enjoy peeping into mortal minds, but yours really is fascinating. Tell me, Gerard, do you really know the definition of the word hypocrisy?”

  “Enough!” Kaelus said in a firm voice. His horns nearly reached the top of the tent, and Gerard absently worried the flames that often wreathed his horns might incinerate the canvas. “You bicker like old, mortal women. Uriel, this is not the time for the trickster. We need the flaming sword, the avenging angel of justice.”

  Uriel’s grin faded quickly, and he nodded at Kaelus with a hint of ill-concealed rebelliousness in his gesture of acceptance. The demon stared at him a moment longer, then turned his blue-fire eyes back to Gerard.

  “I don’t have time for you to nurse your wounded pride, Gerard,” Kaelus said. “You and Mikal work out the final details to coordinate the assault. Mikal, you’ll take charge of the garrison as soon as we arrive. Gerard, you’ll continue to coordinate our assault forces until we’ve stabilized the stronghold. With any luck, we’ll have time to push the demons back and pull our forces out.”

  Birch made a sour face. He turned his fiery eyes to the map, and an orange glow was faintly visible on the white surface of the ground.

  “Speak your mind, Birch,” Kaelus grumbled.

  “Are we still set on that course?” Birch asked. “Is there no way to hold the garrison? Is retreat our only option?”

  “He says it is,” Kaelus said, pointing a clawed finger at Gerard, “and Mikal and I agree. If you see another viable option, speak it now or hold your peace.”

  Birch stared at the map a moment before he shook his head.

  “No,” he muttered. “No other option.”

  - 4 -

  “Pull back Red, you’re overextended,” Garnet ordered mentally. While he watched from the arms of an airborne angel, Guilian’s platoon carefully eased backward and avoided catastrophe.

  “Good job, Guilian,” Garnet added once the denarae were safe. “We’ll discuss it later. Relay to Blue, pull back on second squad, Orange will lay down cover fire in sequence. End. Relay Orange and Blue, begin on my mark.”

  Garnet watched the flow of the battle carefully, waiting for the exact moment.

  “Now!” he practically shouted in his mind.

  With exact timing and sequence, Danner’s platoon dropped to the ground a split-second before Marc’s arrows sped overhead and tore through the ranks of the damned souls that pressed forward. Orange Platoon had time for a second volley before Blue leapt to their feet and rushed back to fill the gap left by the slain creatures.

  “Relay to Violet. Flasch, are you ready to spell for Michael? End.”

  A moment later, Garnet received the affirmative. He sent the order for Violet Platoon to slide through the ranks of Yellow, meanwhile Michael’s denarae fell back in a controlled, orderly fashion and removed themselves from the heat of the battle. They were ready to be ca
lled back at a moment’s notice, but for a few blessed minutes they were able to take care of a hundred tiny details that could mean the difference between life and death in the heat of battle. Armor was tightened, notched weapons were exchanged, laces retied, and most of the more serious injuries were healed by a pair of lesser Sarim angels Garnet had on-hand for just that purpose.

  After only a scant five minutes of rest, Garnet ordered them back into battle. Next, Violet Platoon cycled in for Green, then they would move on to Blue. Last of all, Flasch would spell in for Red and Orange platoons, then the cycle would begin again when Garnet felt it necessary.

  Already they had been fighting for nearly two hours, and there seemed little hope of rest anytime soon. The damned souls of Hell pressed forward in a never-ending wave of hideous, tortured flesh, clawing their way over each other in an effort to reach the forces of Heaven. Garnet had seen those twisted faces close-up, seen the remnants of humanity that lingered amidst the scales and leathery skin. His living heart trembled at the thought of a mortal creature becoming such a monstrosity.

  A flight of Erelim sped by overhead and unleashed a devastating storm of arrows on the crowded creatures below. The angelic bows had no physical strings but rather a band of āyus-powered light, and their arrows were little more than a blur of iridescent light as they streaked unerringly toward their targets. Each arrow that struck felled one of the damned souls, and only a fraction of the monsters ever regained their feet.

  At the center of the Heavenly lines of defense, a wall of mortal paladins held firm against an overwhelming press of demons and damned souls that surged against them. Garnet noticed that the true demons were playing a much more active role than they had through much of the Barrier War, and he guessed this was due to the relative weakness of the damned souls against the angels and the strength of the demons against most of the blessed dead. Shadow Company faced mainly damned souls, which Hell had in virtually unlimited supply and could throw hundreds away just to slay one of Garnet’s denarae warriors. Fortunately, no one had been lost yet, thanks to the Sarim. While generally considered the weakest Choir[21] of angels, the Sarim were among the most gifted healers in the immortal plane.

  Between the paladins and Shadow Company stood a mass of the blessed dead, the souls fortunate enough to be judged worthy of Heaven upon their mortal deaths. These now fought – or were forced? – to defend the holy immortal plane.

  On the far side of the paladins was a narrow ribbon of Siran’s elves, who fought with graceful ferocity to hold their line against the infernal invaders. They, too, were pitted primarily against the damned souls.

  Interspersed throughout the lines were clusters of angels – mostly Parasim and Cherubim – who fought on foot, wielding swords of shining power as they sliced through whole groups of damned souls with one swing of their mighty weapons. Other angels flew overhead, looking for weaknesses in their defenses that they could help shore up in an emergency. Alternating flights of angels flew overhead in sweeping patterns to lay down suppressing fire against the demons where necessary and, in general, rain havoc and heavenly pain down on the demonic horde wherever possible. Overlapping flights of angels protected their companions from swarms of flying demons and twisted souls, searing them from the skies with blinding waves of lightning-like arrows.

  Uriel commanded these flying legions with his elite Archangels always in the fore, and every so often Garnet imagined he could hear the warrior angel’s voice booming over the din of battle as he bellowed his war cries. Mikal commanded the angels on the ground, and he now towered above all the other angels as he raced behind the defensive lines, rallying the Heavenly Hosts and urging them to hold their lines.

  “Garnet, relay from Gerard,” Trebor’s voice broke into Garnet’s thoughts. “The horde is retreating for the moment, and we’re going to use this opportunity to pull back and regroup. Most of the forces from the stronghold are safe at the next defensive position, so we’re clear to go.”

  “Acknowledged,” Garnet thought back. “Just give me the word and we’ll start our withdrawal. Relay to Gerard, Shadow Company requests the honor of being the last to hold. End.”

  Garnet could hear the frustration in Trebor’s mental voice as the denarae replied, “He said you’d want that, and the request is denied. He’s got a group of paladins and angels under Mikal to hold the line. You’re last out before them, though.”

  “Well, that’s something,” Garnet thought as he ground his teeth. Was Gerard still upset over the ego bruising in the command tent? Garnet thought about it a moment and rejected the notion. Gerard was too good a commander to let something like that endanger the lives of his soldiers. Garnet’s former mentor had too much experience with just that sort of petty-mindedness to perpetuate it, especially after Garnet had all-but accused him of following that exact path of dishonor.

  No, if Gerard had already thought past Garnet’s request, he must have a reason for structuring the retreat as he did. Garnet would ask him afterwards to better understand Gerard’s strategic thinking, but for now Garnet was content to trust and follow his orders.

  “Garnet!” Trebor bellowed into the Red paladin’s mind. Garnet cried out and felt like his ears should be ringing, so loud had been the mental shout.

  “Sorry,” Trebor said in a calmer, but still anxious voice. “Gerard just received a report from the front lines. Someone’s coming forward under the parlay flag.”

  Garnet looked down and saw to his relief that the demonic horde had pulled back from Shadow Company and was no longer engaged. Already, they were twenty yards apart, and the distance was steadily increasing. He asked his angelic escort to carry him higher, and in a moment Garnet was able to see the scene unfolding at the center of the conflict.

  The black wall of demons and damned souls had pulled back all along the combat line, and the two sides faced each other uneasily across a few dozen yards. At the very center of the battle, a large bubble had opened up around a small cluster of humanoid figures. Garnet was too far away to see any details, but what he saw told him enough.

  He cursed himself violently for not considering it sooner.

  In the distance, a dozen men wearing gleaming platemail stood in a circular formation around a thirteenth warrior. Each of the men wore a black cloak that Garnet could see even at such a great distance, and he pictured in his mind the ebony blades that he knew each warrior carried. One of the men carried a limp yellow flag of parlay.

  These were the Black Viscia, paladins who had turned their backs on the teachings of the Prism and were now counted among the elite of the enemy ranks. Standing in the center of their circle was their commander, the general of Hell’s armies, a man Garnet had only truly met once, and yet he knew him all too well.

  “But he’s dead!” Trebor protested, reading Garnet’s thoughts.

  “So are you, Trebor,” Garnet replied grimly. “Even in death, he serves his master.”

  Garnet stared at the miniscule figure, his feelings a tumult of confusion. Anger and even hatred mixed with fear and shock. Here was the man responsible for Gerard’s death and the fall of the Barrier, a man whom Garnet had already put in his grave once.

  “Malith.”

  As his lips parted, Garnet wrapped his teeth around the man’s name like a pit-bull clamped on its prey, unyielding and implacable.

  Chapter 23

  A self-aware man knows the price at which he can be bought. A moral man knows he has none.

  - Yellow Paladin El’Tikan Norel,

  “A Treatise on Imposed Morality”[22]

  - 1 -

  The two groups met in the center of what had only minutes before been a raging battlefield where angels and demons, blessed and damned, had fought without thought of mercy or surrender.

  Twelve black-cloaked warriors formed a broad arc behind their commander, an implacable wall of honor and virtue gone awry. Malith felt their presence behind him as a comfort; they were the steel gauntlet to his fist. The Black Viscia h
ad all given their lives in the service of the King of Hell, and they served him still in death. Malith also served his lord, the most powerful demon in Hell and soon the unchallenged master of all existence.

  Malith would gain that power for him by crushing Mephistopheles’s foes and destroying every angel in Heaven to gain the Throne for his lord. When Mephistopheles sat on the Throne of God, then he would be truly invincible – omnipotent! The King of Hell would rule all of creation, and Malith would stand at his right hand, the general-knight who served his liege and enforced his will.

  The Black paladin’s lips spread in a humorless smile of anticipation. Power undreamed of would be his, and nothing would stand in his way.

  Especially not this ragtag group of mewling weaklings, Malith laughed to himself as he surveyed the thirteen representatives from the Heavenly Host.

  Most of them he recognized, either through experience or by reputation.

  Gerard Morningham and Birch de’Valderat. Malith remembered both men clearly from his days as a living mortal, and he had killed both men during the Barrier War. Malith held Gerard’s gaze. The dead man’s stony face pulsed with fury, and the scars that covered his features throbbed with emotion. Slowly, deliberately, Malith winked at his former comrade.

  When Malith turned to regard Birch, however, he felt something was wrong. Birch’s eyes still glowed in that disconcerting manner, but there was something else about Birch that didn’t make sense. After only a moment’s careful study, Malith realized with a deep shock that Birch wasn’t dead!

  I rammed two feet of steel through his heart! Malith raged internally, showing nothing of his thoughts where others could see. He died, I’m sure of it, and yet there he stands alive. Strange, though…Malith paused as he studied the feeling of power that radiated out from Birch…. A demon!?

  Was it possible? Had the demon within Birch brought him back to life? No, Kaelus was separate from Birch. Malith’s demons had been able to confirm that Kaelus was nowhere near this parlay, even though they hadn’t been able to pinpoint his exact location. Even had Kaelus somehow revived Birch, the power emanating from the Gray paladin was not that of his former…occupant.