Calhoun gasped and opened his eyes. Disoriented, he had to remind himself that he was inside Fort Miloásterôn, not at the temple with McRae. A great cloud had settled in his brain, but it was quickly dissipating.
Shek opened his eyes and asked, “Did you see anything, Commander?”
“Yes,” Calhoun replied grimly. Based on Shek’s great frown, the wizard also had witnessed McRae’s folly. “Have these things already happened, or might Sir Duerot arrive in time to stop the subcommander?”
Shek chuckled mirthlessly. “I cannot foretell the future, nor would I if I could. McRae has already forced his way into the temple. At this very moment, he is conducting a search of the premises.”
“Damnation! There has to be a way to stop him before he does irreparable damage to our relationship with the healers and the Knighthood’s reputation.”
“There is,” Shek insisted. “I know a spell that can take you to McRae.”
The commander balked and waved his hands. “Seeing visions is one thing, but disappearing from one place and reappearing elsewhere is quite another. But you could go, could you not?”
“Yes, Commander, though I doubt McRae will listen to anything I have to say.”
Calhoun thought for a moment. “Do you have a quill and parchment?”
“Of course.”
Shek directed him over to a desk that was covered with charts bearing writing Calhoun could not decipher. Once the wizard handed him a fresh quill, he hastily penned a missive to McRae.
As he wrote he said, “This will give you the authority to take over the mission. Whether he likes it or not, McRae will have to defer to your judgement. I want you to do whatever you can to smooth over this terrible incident.”
Shek gave a stoic nod and tucked the parchment into the inside pocket of the red coat he had donned. “I appreciate your trust, Commander. I shall not disappoint you.”
Calhoun opened his mouth to reply that he did not doubt it, but Shek was already gone, swallowed up by thin air. He stared at nothing in particular for a moment, his mind wandering down the many paths of possibilities, praying to Pintor for a solution.
His musings were interrupted by a strange sound. Absently, the commander wandered back over to the table and discovered that the noise was coming from the glass sphere. Shek’s scorpion was scraping its claws against the wall of the cage. The pitch made Calhoun’s skin crawl.
Leaving the hungry pet to its own devices, Calhoun hurried out of the room and toward his private study, where he would start drafting a formal apology to Jalil Shenn and his priests. As he composed the first few lines in his mind, Calhoun decided that if Shek could get him and the Knights at Fort Milo out of this bit of trouble, he would personally promote the wizard to acting subcommander.
Passage XII
When Selwyn McRae heard the mage’s voice, he could scarcely believe his ill luck. Wrenching his eyes from the defeated Renegade Leader, he saw Shek Irenistan standing with arms akimbo just beyond the circle of men who had watched the duel.
“What are you doing here, wizard?” McRae demanded. “And what makes you think you can tell me what to do?”
The subcommander kept his blade poised over the Renegade Leader’s throat as Shek walked towards him. Uneasy in the presence of the spell-caster, the Knights quickly moved out of the way, allowing Shek to penetrate the circle. Wordlessly, the wizard handed McRae a piece of paper.
McRae tore the page from Shek’s grasp and scanned the letter. The script was sloppy, but there was no mistaking Fredmont Calhoun’s signature at the end.
How could Calhoun dishonor him so? He was on the verge of victory, and Calhoun wanted him to back down? Sending the wizard to take over was like a dagger in the back.
“A clever forgery,” McRae said, crumpling up the missive and throwing it to the ground. “You wizards truly are a clever lot, but I am not impressed by your parlor tricks. Now be gone and let me finish what I have started!”
“I am afraid that isn’t possible.” Shek turned away from McRae and, addressing the other Knights, said, “Commander Fredmont Calhoun is not pleased with what has transpired here. He never condoned bringing violence into the priests’ home and has given me the authority to right this wrong. You are all to stand down.”
“Preposterous,” McRae scoffed. “Calhoun would never put a wizard in charge of anything. We have no reason to believe anything you say.” He spoke quickly, sensing his men’s indecision. He had to prove to them that the usurping wizard was not to be trusted or risk a full-scale insurrection. “For all we know, you could be Renegade yourself, trying to help this band get away!”
Some of the Knights muttered in agreement, while others frowned, apparently taking the wizard’s side.
“What you did was wrong,” Shek continued, looking at McRae once more. “Calhoun never told you to lay siege to the temple. If you seek further proof, wait a little while longer, and Sir Duerot will come and confirm what I have told you.”
“I was given orders to do whatever it took to catch the rogue knights,” McRae argued.
“No,” said Shek. “Commander Calhoun wanted you to do whatever it took to reach the Renegades before they made to the Temple. You have conveniently twisted his words to justify your rampage. There will be consequences for your actions and for anyone who refuses to follow the commander’s orders.”
McRae began to tremble and, abandoning the Renegade Leader at his feet, charged straight at Shek. When he tried to force his blade into the wizard’s belly, McRae seemed to collide with a wall of steel. His blade snapped in half.
The next thing McRae knew, he was on the ground. He scurried back his feet, discarded the useless weapon, and came at wizard with his fists. The Knight went down again, cradling his bleeding limb, cursing spell-casters and their cowardly tricks. His vision blurred from pain and rage, he did not get up.
Everyone was silent for the next minute or so, including a few healers who had gathered around the scene. The Knights regarded one another with mixed expressions, some looking sheepish and others appearing as though they too wanted a shot at the wizard.
Jalil Shenn came forward, but then the sound of an approaching rider attracted everyone’s attention.
* * *
As McRae lunged at the wizard, Klye slowly got to his feet, wincing as he put his weight on his injured knee. He had thought to use the diversion to his advantage, but the Knights had their weapons drawn and aimed at his unarmed companions.
The Renegade Leader had little choice but to wait for Sir Duerot—as the wizard had named him—to join the mixed assembly at the bottom of the hill. The Knight gave the wizard a curious look. Then his face drained of all color when he saw the temple’s broken window.
“What has happened here? Did the Renegades try to run?” Sir Duerot asked, looking from McRae, who still lay on the ground, to the wizard.
“Yes, they did run,” replied the wizard, “but only after McRae ordered his men to force their way into the Temple and flush them out.”
Sir Duerot frowned and, addressing McRae, asked, “Why did you not wait for word from Fort Milo? By the Commander Calhoun’s order, we are not to harass the Renegades in any way, and if the rogues show no sign of leaving the temple, we are to return to the fort for the time being.”
McRae swore as he got up from the ground again, holding his bleeding hand against his chest. “We could not afford to wait, Sir Duerot. As it is, the rogue knights are nowhere to be found. Had we sat idly by, they might all have gotten away. However, now that they are outside the temple—”
Jalil Shenn took a step forward. “If the Knights of Superius carry away those who came to the temple for help, we healers shall have a hard time forgiving them. Haven’t you done enough damage already, Subcommander?”
McRae glared at the priest, but his rebuttal was interrupted by a woman’s scream that arose from somewhere behind Klye.
“Lilac!” Plake exclaimed. “She’s in trouble!”
Klye a
lso assumed the shriek had been Lilac’s, but by his reasoning, it was not the woman who needed saving. Scooping up his rapier mid-stride, Klye ran toward the road from where the scream had originated.
Klye fully expected the Knights to ride him down at any second, but he didn’t care. He had to get to Ragellan and Horcalus before Lilac killed them.
McRae ordered the Knights to stop him, but someone—either the wizard or Sir Duerot—countermanded the command. The clamor of hooves against the earth never came, and when Klye finally dared to glance behind him, he saw that his Renegades were the only ones pursuing him. The Knights watched helplessly as they all ran away.
By the time he reached the forest, jolts of pain were lancing through his knee at every step. Clenching his teeth, Klye pressed forward, redoubling his effort when he saw a thin ribbon of smoke unfurling into the overcast sky. The smell of charred flesh overwhelmed him, but it was only when he saw Ragellan’s headless corpse that he faltered.
Scout had caught up to him by then, and he steadied Klye when his legs gave way beneath him. “Dear gods,” Scout whispered. “What happened?”
Klye’s chest constricted, and he feared he was going to be sick. “She did this.”
He looked away from Ragellan’s remains and found Lilac a few yards up the road, lying beside Horcalus. He couldn’t tell if Horcalus was alive or not, but his eyes weren’t on the knight anyway. Klye was suddenly aware that he was squeezing the hilt of his sword so tight his fingers ached.
“What’s goin’ on?”
Klye recognized Pistol’s voice, but it sounded as though the pirate were very far away, as though speaking from outside a dream.
“I don’t know,” Scout said, “but Klye…hey, Klye…”
He didn’t hear the rest of what Scout said. He stormed over to Lilac, who appeared to be sleeping, her chest slowly rising and falling. He drew back his sword and prepared to thrust the rapier through Lilac’s chest with all of the power in his being
“What are you doing?” Scout demanded, grabbing Klye’s sword arm. “Have you lost your mind?”
Klye struggled to free himself, but Pistol and Crooker stepped in, pinning his hands behind his back until he ceased fighting them. As his breathing gradually returned to normal, he glared at Lilac, expecting her to rise up and attack them at any moment.
“You don’t understand,” Klye managed to say after a few seconds. “Lilac is an imposter…another assassin, only she knows how to use magic. She killed Ragellan and possibly Horcalus too.”
Pistol and Crooker continued to hold him back, but their efforts were unnecessary. Klye’s strength had left him all at once, and it was all he could do to stay on his feet. Tears blurred his vision as he watched Scout kneel down next to Horcalus. The hooded Renegade pressed two fingers against the knight’s neck and then did the same to Lilac.
“They’re both alive,” he reported.
“What in the hells is going on here?” a red-faced Plake demanded, finally joining the group.
“Klye thinks Lilac knows magic and that she brought Ragellan and Horcalus out here to kill them,” Scout told Plake, Arthur, and Othello.
“That’s ridiculous!” Plake positioned himself between Klye and Lilac. “She never did anything to hurt anybody. You can’t blame her for Ragellan’s death. Where’s your proof?”
Klye scowled at the blind, lovesick rancher, wanting very much to wrap his hands around Plake’s thick neck.
“You had better come and see this.”
It was Othello who had spoken. The archer stood a short distance away from the rest of the group. Klye couldn’t see what he was looking at, but as he and the others joined the forester, Klye felt bile rise in the back of this throat.
The smoldering, black bones had formerly belonged to a human, but little else could be deduced from the charred remains.
“Who in the hells was this?” Scout wondered aloud.
“If Horcalus has been sleeping this whole time, then only Lilac can tell us what’s happened here,” Plake said. “We’ll just have to wait until she wakes up to find out.”
“But if she’s a spell-flinger, like Klye says, she’d sooner put us all to the torch before answerin’ our questions,” Pistol argued. “Gods, I hate magic.”
Klye held up a hand, demanding silence. For once, Plake had a point. Things weren’t adding up. If Lilac had killed Ragellan, why had she stuck around after the battle? And what of the fourth body?
“Find something to tie her up with…and gag her,” Klye ordered. “We’ll give her a chance to explain herself, but if I don’t like what I hear, I’ll deal with her in whatever way I see fit. For now, we have to carry them both back to the temple. Ragellan too.”
Plake frowned but wisely let the matter drop.
“What about those Knights back there?” Pistol asked. “Maybe we ought to make a run for it while we can.”
Klye had considered that option, but he didn’t know how badly injured Lilac was, and he didn’t want her to die before she told them the truth about herself and her role in Ragellan’s death. More than anything, Klye needed time to sort everything out.
“I’m tired of running,” Klye said, looking back in the direction of the temple. “If the Knights are still around, I can think of a few questions I’d like to ask them.”
* * *
She didn’t know what woke her. It was dark, but enough moonlight streamed through a nearby window for her to see that she was lying on a bed in a room only slightly larger than her closet back home. As she tried to recall how she had ended up there, her mind was flooded with memories of her clash with the wizardess and the death of Chester Ragellan.
Lilac blinked back tears and tried to sit up, but she couldn’t.
Panic overtook her as she pushed and writhed, trying to free herself from her unexplained paralysis. She struggled to no avail. Forcing herself to calm down, she lifted her head and squinted down at her body. Thick cords secured her arms and legs to the bed. She would have cried out but for the soggy gag in her mouth.
Who had done this to her? Had Dark Lily somehow survived the battle and taken her captive? That didn’t seem likely. The Knights from Fort Miloásterôn must have happened upon her in the road. But what of Dominic Horcalus and the other Renegades?
When she saw a mote of light appear on the far wall, she gasped in spite of herself and then quickly shut her eyes, feigning sleep. A distinct creaking sound indicated a door was opening. All was silent save the racing of her heart; its percussion declaring her trepidation with all the subtlety of a marching band.
“I know you’re awake, Lilac. I heard you trying to escape your bonds.”
Lilac opened her eyes in astonishment. The piece of cloth was none too gently yanked from her mouth.
“Klye? Thank the gods. Where are we? What’s going on?”
“I’ll be asking the questions.” The Renegade Leader, arms crossed, peering down at her with a frighteningly cold expression. “And here’s my first. How much did the Knights pay you kill Ragellan and Horcalus?”
Lilac’s eyes widened as her confusion gave way to fear. “What? No, Klye, you have it all wrong. I didn’t murder Ragellan. Is Horcalus—”
“Your sword was found with Ragellan’s blood on it. You told me yourself that you came to Capricon to find them. You have been behaving suspiciously ever since you joined my band. Then you and the knights vanish, and Ragellan ends up dead.
“I’ve had enough of your lies, Lilac. Tell me how you did it? Are you a wizard?”
Despair threatened to drown her. Not only had she failed Ragellan, but Klye and the others thought she was responsible for Ragellan’s death.
But anger lent her strength. “Didn’t you see the burnt corpse…or what was left of one…near where you found Horcalus and me?”
“We saw it,” Klye said.
“Well, that’s your wizardess right there. At the start of the battle, she told us she had been traveling with our band for some time. I didn’t
know what she meant at first, but during the battle, she became invisible, so I suppose she was just following us around, waiting for an opportunity to single out the knights. I must have gotten in the way of her spell.”
“Because you always happened to be near them,” Klye interrupted. “And why is that, Lilac? You told me earlier you came to the island to find Ragellan and Horcalus. Were you and the spell-caster partners? A pair of assassins paid by the Knights of Superius to do away with the traitors?”
“I didn’t come all the way to Capricon to kill them. I came here to save them!” she shouted. “My brother died trying to restore their honor…to vindicate them…but he failed. Just as I have failed.”
Klye waited for her to explain further, a perplexed look on his face.
“My brother, Sir Gabriel Zephyr, spent his entire career as a Knight at Fort Splendor, working under Chester Ragellan’s command. When Ragellan was arrested for treason, my brother kept silent, but never for a moment did he believe him guilty. After Ragellan and Horcalus were taken to the Citadel Dungeon, Gabriel started snooping around the fort, trying to get to the bottom of what he supposed was some great misunderstanding.
“One day my brother overheard Commander Ralz, Ragellan’s replacement, speaking with a stranger about the rogue knights. According to the letter I received from my brother, this stranger was furious Ragellan and Horcalus had escaped from the Citadel Dungeon, and he wanted to send bounty hunters to track them down, including a wizardess who had apparently worked for Ralz before.
“That was the last letter I ever received from Gabriel. The Knights claim that he died in a hunting accident, but I don’t believe that. There is no doubt in my mind that the Knights of Superius killed him when they caught him spying.
“Gabriel risked everything in order to clear the name of his former comrades, so I decided to take up his quest to honor his memory.”
After a moment of silence, Klye asked, “If you knew about the assassins, why didn’t you tell us?”
Rebels and Fools (The Renegade Chronicles Book 1) Page 27
