Danner frowned. That was the road where the demon from Hell, one of The Three if Birch was right, had attacked them and then disappeared. Granted, that had happened north of Lokana and nowhere near where they would be, but the mere thought of the road brought back the sight of the fiery-red dakkan diving toward them with murderous intent. The hissing blood dripping to the ground from the battle overhead…
“Danner…?”
Danner shook his head and realized Michael had already said his name twice.
“You still with us, buddy?” Michael asked.
“Yeah, sorry. I guess I got sidetracked. Where were we?”
“We were asking your opinion on our direction,” Trebor supplied helpfully. “Garnet says we go north to higher ground, then we go from there.”
Danner looked at his map and scratched at his chin with a twig.
“Garnet, you apparently know more about maps and land navigation than the lot of us. What are these lines?”
“The dotted ones are probably trails, and the dashed ones are creek beds or streams,” the large youth replied. “Depends on who made the map, really.”
“But one way or the other, they’re a path of some sort that leads where the line goes, right?”
“I suppose you could say that.”
“What’s on your mind, Danner?” Trebor asked. Danner spared him a brief glance, but didn’t say anything. He had his suspicions about Trebor, even though they were grounded in pure speculation. If possible, Trebor paled even further at Danner’s mere glance, even though there was no animosity or suspicion in the look.
“If it’s a trail or creek, then we should be able to follow it here,” Danner said pointing, “and from there follow this line north and east. That should put us somewhere near the camp, and from that intersection, Garnet, you can get a better idea of where we are, right?”
Garnet nodded.
“But we don’t know where we are now, so how will we know where we hit that stream, or trail… or whatever it is,” Flasch said. “The dashed line, damn it.”
“We won’t have to know. Danner’s idea is standard land-navigation tactics,” Garnet said with a smile. “The line goes almost the entire length of this map, so if we go east and bear a bit north, we’ll have to hit it sooner or later.”
“Right then, what are we waiting for?”
“Anybody got a compass?” Marc asked brightly. Until now, he was the only one who hadn’t spoken.
“I do,” Trebor answered, then he ducked his head as Danner raised an eyebrow at him. Danner noticed his skin didn’t change color, even though he must have been blushing slightly. “I grabbed it at the last second,” he said lamely.
Danner let it pass… for the moment.
“You’ve got a compass?” Flasch asked incredulously. “Why in San’s name didn’t you say so earlier? You could have saved me from puzzling out Garnet’s sticks and shadows.”
“Now you’ve learned something you didn’t know before,” Marc chimed in.
“I learn new things every day, but I’d just as soon buy a cart already made than learn the why and wherefore of making the wheel,” Flasch said with mock irritation.
“Isn’t that redundant?” Marc asked facetiously.
“Never mind, Flasch,” Danner said. “Trebor, how about you give your compass to Garnet, since he’ll probably be our best bet at not getting lost. Flasch, you’ve got a sharp eye, so keep up front with Garnet. Michael, you and Marc hang back for a while and see that one of those other groups isn’t just waiting around to follow us. I don’t want to be mean, but fair is fair. Trebor, I need to ask you about something, so walk with me a while, please. Garnet, just try not to make me look like a liar or an idiot by getting us lost, okay?”
Garnet grinned then took the proffered compass from Trebor. His enormous hand dwarfed the more slender, pale hand, and the compass looked like a mere toy in Garnet’s thick palm. With a quick adjustment to the bezel,[37] Garnet nodded and started into the woods.
- 2 -
Danner let the forest engulf them. Within a few minutes, the six of them had settled into a steady trot that would move them quickly along without depleting their energy. They only had so much food to go around and while they had several canteens, Danner hoped the line they were looking for turned out to be a creek. He knew enough woodlore from Maran to know that sufficient water could make or break a traveler. He sipped occasionally from his canteen, even when he didn’t feel thirsty. His canteen was full of stale water, another reason to refill at a stream if possible.
Trebor loped along at Danner’s side, trying to disguise his ill ease. Danner let his friend go in silence for a couple miles, then he spoke.
“You knew beforehand that we had some sort of journey today, and you knew when and what to pack,” Danner stated flatly. “How?”
Danner’s tone left no doubt that he wouldn’t accept lame excuses or denials of any sort, and he was convinced he had a possible answer, however impossible it seemed. But even if his suspicion was right, Trebor still looked near frantic as he tried to answer.
“I, uh, overheard some of the, uh, paladins talking the other night, and I thought I’d pack a little just in case, huh?” he laughed lamely, but they both knew Danner wasn’t buying it.
“You seem to overhear a lot of our instructors talking,” Danner replied evenly. They walked in silence a few moments longer while Danner focused his thoughts.
“You can read my thoughts, can’t you? And other people’s. You know what people are thinking, and that’s how you knew what to pack.”
“What?” Trebor exclaimed in a low voice. He stared straight ahead, nervously refusing to look at Danner. They walked a few more steps in nervous silence.
“I don’t know how it’s possible, but I know you can.”
“Danner, think about what you’re saying,” Trebor said, his voice quivering.
“I know exactly what I’m saying, and what I’m not saying.” Danner paused, wondering for a moment if he hadn’t tipped his hand to Trebor, but the other trainee didn’t react, so he went on. “I’m saying you can read my thoughts.”
“No man can read another’s thoughts,” Trebor protested. “That’s the stuff of demons.”
“Then how come you’re responding to what I’m thinking?” Danner thought, then added aloud, “I haven’t opened my mouth for the last minute.”
Too late, Trebor realized Danner’s trap. He looked about wildly and tried to bolt, but Danner caught hold of his arm.
“Look, Trebor,” he said quickly, tugging him alongside so Marc and Michael wouldn’t catch sight of them and wonder. “You’re my friend, and I’m willing to believe whatever you tell me, just so long as it’s the truth. I may not have known you very long, but I’m sure you’re not one of the devil’s creatures come amongst us. Whatever it is you do and however you do it, I really don’t think it’s anything like that. I’m your friend, or at least I was two minutes ago and still would like to be now, but that’s up to you.”
Trebor stared at him with the eyes of a caged rabbit, but then the wildness started to fade as he relaxed under Danner’s words.
“Now tell me. You can read people’s thoughts, can’t you? The truth.”
“And it won’t go any further than us?” Trebor asked.
“No further, but unless it is something monstrous, I think you can trust the others. I would, but then I’m not you, and I don’t know what this is yet.”
Trebor drew in a deep breath, then sighed as he pulled gently away from Danner.
“Alright, the truth then. Yes, I can read human thoughts, be they man or woman. I can even directly project my thoughts into other people’s minds, which is not as common among my people.”
“Your people?”
“I’m a denarae.”
Danner stopped in his tracks, then remembered his own concerns about Michael and Marc overtaking them. He took two quick steps and caught up to Trebor, then stared suspiciously at his skin.
/> “It’s a chemical I have to rub in once every time San waxes full,” Trebor explained. “I couldn’t very well ask to train as a paladin if my skin was slate gray, now could I?”
“You mean they wouldn’t let you in because you’re not human?” Danner asked, mildly outraged.
“Well, they might let me in, even though I’m denarae. They have to keep up the appearance of equality, after all, and there are a few paladins of other races, even if there’s never been a denarae paladin. But it’s the other trainees and our instructors I’m worried about. San, you’ve heard them talk. ‘Don’t cower like a denarae slug!’ ‘You’re as useless as damn shad[38]!’” Trebor actually did a passable imitation of Morningham’s voice.
“And that’s not the least of it,” he went on in his own voice. “My family agreed to let me join if I would use the oil and disguise myself.” Trebor shook his head. “Even I didn’t know the level of animosity and ignorance that ran through some people until I was knee-deep in the sludge of a thousand-thousand minds, and I heard every stray thought. I always assumed the adults exaggerated things, but it’s awful what people think sometimes, especially about my race.”
“Not everyone, surely. Not Marc, or Garnet, or the others with us.”
“No, not them, or I’d not be able to bear being around them for any length of time. But everyone has their little prejudices, and the feeling of humans toward denarae is so universal it’s institutionalized. And you don’t even know why you hate us.”
“It’s because of your mind-reading, isn’t it?” Danner said in a flash of insight.
Trebor nodded.
“My people have kept a strong history, and we know that centuries ago man and denarae were closely tied by reason of their near-identical appearances. Except for skin pigments, we’re physically identical, which made us the last to be discriminated against. But one can only laugh at a dwarf’s shortness, an elf’s twig-like figure, and a gnome’s inquisitive voice and yellowed skin for so long before a new target has to be found. So like any school-yard bully, mankind turned on those that were like himself but so markedly different, and therefore to be feared. We can only read the minds of other denarae and of humans. The other races are just too different biologically.
“Over the last three hundred years, my people worked to play down their abilities and remove references within texts until men forgot why they hated us, but hate they did. Ever since the dwarven genocide of the Dale gnomes two centuries ago, the races have been at relative peace, and the others have gained some recognition and respect in humankind’s eyes. But not the denarae. We’re still despised and live a cowering existence, jealously guarding our secrets lest we go the way of the Dale and find ourselves wiped free of the world because of envy and misunderstanding.”
Trebor did little to disguise the sadness in his voice, and for a moment, Danner felt guilty about the oppression of the denarae.
Then Trebor said, “No, Danner, don’t feel bad about it. I already know you’ve never looked down on another because of his skin or inhuman aspects. It’s why I felt safe in telling you the truth now. Granted, if you hadn’t confronted me, I probably never would have just told you on my own, but now I feel better for having someone else know.”
“It must have been lonely,” Danner said. Trebor nodded.
“And more than a little frightening.” He hesitated, then went on. “I have to apologize. Normally, I would never directly look into someone’s mind as I have yours and the others’ – but I had to know.”
Danner shrugged.
“Hey, I can’t say as I blame you. I probably would have done the same in your shoes. But, well, how often do you look into our heads?”
“No, it’s not like that, not usually, anyway. Think of it as like that gnomish thing you told me about that one time. The idea your friend had about calling through little talking tubes on the walls.”
“Oh, the intercoms?” Danner had to struggle to remember the shortened name he’d christened Faldergash’s latest idea. Intercom was much more concise than inter-room-and-house-talking-wall-communicators. They were similar to, though more advanced than, the tubes the Coalition had used to summon the elevator in their headquarters.
“Yeah. As you described it, you have to hold open the valve to talk, but you can hear someone yelling through it at any time, right?”
“Right, otherwise you wouldn’t know when to listen.”
“Well, usually I just let it work sort of like that. I hear people’s thoughts that are strong or related to me and my concerns, sort of like when you suddenly hear your name and you start listening to a conversation. That’s how I found out about this training trip; I overheard two paladin guards thinking about how rough it would be for us, but how much they had enjoyed it when they were trainees. I homed in on it and listened, and I found out as much as I could about what sort of equipment to bring, when it would happen. Stuff like that.”
“So you can focus in and actually read everything in someone’s mind, or you can just sit back with a net and catch whatever floats by.”
Trebor smiled slightly, some of his humor returning.
“I suppose you could look at it that way. Most of my people have the ability to one degree or another, but there’s still a fair percentage with no talent at all. A few can focus clearly and actually sort through someone’s mind like I can, but it’s draining and I’m only passing good at that. Still fewer of my people can project their thoughts over any real distance, and that’s where my strength lies.”
“If I know a man, and I have a general idea where he is, I can send my thoughts to him like this.”
Danner jumped at the sensation of having another voice in his head, but he realized what was happening at once. It even sounded like Trebor’s voice.
“Once he hears my thoughts, I can focus more closely so I’m not shouting across an entire mountain range for one person to hear me. If I can see a man, I can easily direct my thoughts into his mind, as I’m doing now. He can even respond in kind, and I’ll hear his thoughts, much like you were doing before I noticed it.”
“Like now?” Danner thought in reply.
“Exactly. My people have been doing this so long that even those who don’t have much ability still communicate this way as easily as breathing.”
Danner shook his head. “Okay, that’s a pretty strange sensation, to say the least.”
“It’s one of the reasons my parents and the people in my village didn’t want me to come here,” Trebor said a bit sadly. “My gift is rare in my family, and they didn’t want to lose me in case something happened and I was found out. Let’s face it, Danner, if everyone knew I was a denarae, snide pranks and racial slurs would turn quickly enough into downright dangerous racial bigotry, and my life might even be in danger. Hell, your life is in danger from the Coalition just because you lived with a gnome. Imagine my danger if I, an evil, wicked denarae, was caught trying to infiltrate the holy militant order of the paladins. Imagine the threat to anyone close to me.”
Danner nodded soberly, clearly seeing the danger his friend faced. At the same time, he couldn’t help but think about the advantages Trebor’s talent would glean them during their training. He quickly pointed this out.
“You know, Trebor, you could do a lot more with this than just idly wait to hear snatches of what’s coming at us during training,” Danner said, smiling. “And I don’t just mean actively scanning people just to know what’s coming next. We won’t have to study for another damn test for the rest of our training, since you could just pluck the answers out of the instructors’ minds and plant them in ours. You could find out all the little pranks the trainees are planning against each other, and we could warn the people we like. We could even…”
Danner abruptly stopped, then shook his head. Trebor looked wistfully at him.
“I think I see now another reason why your people have hidden their talents away,” Danner said slowly. “There are always men willing to exploit such tal
ents to gain the upper hand, and anyone willing to sink that low has already lost.”
Danner was thinking about a story one of the Orange paladins had told the class of trainees prior to their first test, only a week into their training. The basic tale involved a man offering immense wealth to a woman in return for sexual favors – to which she agreed – and then offering her practically nothing for the same. When she reacted with affront to his minimal offer, he casually branded her a whore for agreeing to the deal at any price.
Aside from the humor of the story, the paladin had explained the deeper meaning.
Every man’s honor has its price, be it high or low, and when you reach that price, he will bow to your every whim. Great men have been pulled low when they were bought, and some ended up among the lowest dregs of history. Once you know a man can be bought, after that it’s just a matter of finding the right price.
Now, when I hand out these tests, some of you will do quite well because you’ve studied hard for the test. Others will do quite well because your neighbor studied hard for the test. But just remember, you’re setting the price of your honor at one measly grade that’s a drop in the bucket of your training, and after that you’ll always be no better than a whore, bought and paid for.
It was a sobering statement, and Danner and Michael had both failed the test rather than look on Flasch or Garnet’s papers next to them. If every man had a price, Danner would be damned if his was going to be a measly test grade.
“Now you see,” Trebor said sadly. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but see what you were thinking of there, and I was remembering the same thing.”
Hunting The Three (The Barrier War) Page 27