“What do you want?”
Lilac did not answer right away. In the light from the candle, she could get a better look at the man. Clumps of greasy hair stuck up in every which direction, and a week’s worth of stubble covered his jaw. Dark circles rimmed his bloodshot eyes. Judging by the smudges of dirt and grime on his arms, shirt, and pants, he hadn’t washed himself or his clothes since their arrival. The room stank of stale sweat.
“So you’ve given up then?” she asked.
Klye’s frown deepened. “I don’t need a lecture from you. And if the others sent you in here, you can tell them to—”
“No one sent me. I’m here of my own will…and for your sake, Klye. So what if the Knights reached Fort Faith first. It’s not the end of the world. As a band, we’ve overcome a lot just to get this far.”
“It was all for nothing.”
Lilac shook her head. “We need a new challenge to prove ourselves. We need to move on. But most importantly, we need a leader.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be the leader anymore!” Klye snapped, turning away from her suddenly. “We couldn’t even stand against McRae and his men. What chance do we have against an entire fortress full of Knights? If someone else wants to take over as leader, they’re welcome to it.”
When he looked at her again, his lips curled in a sarcastic smile. “Or is that why you’re here? Do you want to be the new Renegade Leader?”
“No,” she said, trying hard to keep her tone calm. “I want our old Renegade Leader back. You may have given up, but no one else has. True, there are only nine of us, but what were your plans when it was just you, Ragellan, Horcalus, Plake, and Othello? Even if the five of you had reached Fort Faith first, how did you expect to hold out against the Knights’ reinforcements?”
“I don’t know,” he said quietly.
“Then why did you volunteer for the mission to begin with?”
“I don’t know!” Klye sighed. “I really don’t, Lilac. The Renegade Leader in Port Alexis didn’t seem too concerned with helping the rebels in Capricon. They had their own problems to worry about.”
“But why did you care? You didn’t owe the Renegades anything.”
“There wasn’t a good reason for me to take up with the Renegades, except for the fact I despised the Knights for what they did to Ragellan and Horcalus,” he said softly. “To be honest, I didn’t know what would happen once we reached Fort Faith. Maybe I became a Renegade because it was just something to do. I couldn’t go back to being a cutpurse after…that damned dream…and after rescuing the knights from the Citadel Dungeon…”
Lilac tried to make sense of his words. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to go back to being a common thief after accomplishing something so daring.”
“Ragellan had his own theory.” Klye looked down at his hands and brushed them on his pants. “He thought that once I’d had a taste of fighting for a cause greater than myself, I wanted more…needed more meaning in my life. He thought I became a Renegade Leader so I could continue playing the hero.”
Klye walked over the window and stared into the twilight.
A moment later, she asked, “Did you say something about a dream?”
Klye’s shoulders dropped, and she feared she had pressed too far, but eventually he said, “Ragellan was the only person I ever told about the dream…the strangest dream I’ve ever had. It felt so real…like I was actually in another realm. When I awoke, the healers told me that I had been in a coma for two weeks, but it felt like I had spent more than a year there. I can’t remember many details, but by the end of it, three other warriors and myself had saved the world.”
Klye chuckled dryly before adding, “I still don’t know how I ended up in a coma, but Ragellan was convinced the dream was a manifestation of my desire to do good…the result of my ‘inner hero’ trying to break free. I don’t know if I can believe that. I guess it doesn’t really matter. All I can say is it just felt right to take on this doomed quest.”
“Ragellan’s theory doesn’t sound so crazy to me,” Lilac said. “Sometimes the gods work in ways we cannot comprehend. You have to admit it’s miraculous we’ve made it this far.”
“I don’t believe in the gods.”
“Luck then?”
Klye shook his head. “I certainly don’t believe in luck.”
Lilac rose from the bed. “Well, what does that leave? Your choices? Your friends? We all doubt ourselves from time to time, Klye.”
“But I’ve let everyone down, and I don’t know what to do next.”
She gave him a warm smile, suddenly reminded of the encouragement she had given her brother from time to time. “No one expects you to have all of the answers. The only way you can let us down is by giving up. If you need help thinking of a way to dislodge the Knights at the fort, we’re here to help you.”
“Are you sure I can’t quit?”
“There are eight of us and only one of you, Klye Tristan,” she scolded. “Besides, something has come up that demands the attention of our Renegade Leader.”
Klye raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.
“Scout was off exploring and he spotted a midge en route to Fort Faith.”
Klye gave her a shrewd look, possibly thinking she spoke in jest. Then he groaned and reached for his belt and scabbard. “Our luck just went from bad to worse.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in luck,” she called over her shoulder as she exited the room.
* * *
Glancing behind him to make sure no one was watching, Plake crept down the narrow corridor. He tried to step lightly, but the floorboards groaned with every step. He paused once he reached the door to Klye’s room and then ever so slowly pressed his ear against it.
He heard the muffled voices of Klye and Lilac but couldn’t make out a single word. Frustrated, he retreated back down the hallway, not caring how much noise he made. He supposed the fact they weren’t doing anything more than talking was a good sign, though Lilac had never come into his room for a private discussion.
When he reached the common room, Othello was right where he had left him, leaning back in a chair with his long legs propped up on a table. Plake felt the archer’s eyes follow him as he dropped down to the floor.
Gods, he was bored. He had explored all of Port Stone but not found even a single bottle of spirits. The pirates were content to spend their days fishing, and Horcalus had made it his mission to teach Arthur how to defend himself. But there was nothing for Plake in this damned ghost town—nothing except Lilac Zephyr.
He had made several attempts to talk with her, but while she always spoke politely, she clearly wasn’t interested in him. His gaze flickered to the passage that led to Klye’s room, He’d have to keep an eye on the Renegade Leader.
What angered Plake the most was that he’d actually begun to like the arrogant bastard.
He picked up a dismembered table leg lying on the floor beside him and threw it at the far wall of the common room. The wooden limb struck the wall with a satisfying thud.
“What’re you looking at?” he asked Othello, who returned his glare with a calm stare.
The front opened, and Horcalus entered, followed by Arthur, Scout, and the pirates. All of them looked disturbed.
“What the hell is going on?” Plake asked, rising to his feet.
Horcalus frowned. “Scout spotted a midge in the area.”
Plake swore. He’d rather be bored than meet a midge.
“The midge didn’t look to be coming our way,” Scout added, “but we should all be ready just in case.”
Plake scoffed. “Be ready to do what? Run for the hills? I hear they burn villages to the ground just for the fun of it. Maybe we ought to get a head start and leave now.”
“I heard it was the midge who caused the Wars of Sunderin’ and that they can steal your soul just by lookin’ at ya,” Crooker confided in a near whisper.
Scout rolled his eyes. “The midge didn’t have anything
to do with the Wars of Sundering. It started out as a territorial conflict between the humans and elves in present-day Ristidae.”
“Give it a rest, Scout.” After four days of listening to the man’s explanations—everything from the politics of the Alliance of Nations to which goddesses lived on the moon—Plake was weary of the know-it-all. “I don’t give a damn about the Wars of Sundering. All I know is we should put as much distance between us and this midge as possible.”
“Would someone please tell me what in the hells a midge is?”
Startled, Plake turned around to find Arthur standing with his hands on his hips. Even Horcalus looked astonished at the boy’s outburst.
“I’ve lived on this island my whole life, and I’ve never heard of such a creature,” Arthur said.
“Are you sure you didn’t spend your childhood in a chest on the ocean floor?” Plake laughed. “The next thing you’ll tell us is that you’ve never heard of elves.”
“Enough, Plake.” Horcalus pulled out one of the chairs they had salvaged from an empty cottage down the road and turned to Arthur. “The midge are not native to Capricon. Their homeland is an island far to the north of here, on the other side of Continae. The midge are a race of sentient beings, not so unlike us humans.”
“Speak for yourself,” Plake muttered.
“It is not an easy thing to explain the midge, Arthur. They truly are a…unique people. It is of little surprise that you have never encountered one, for their kind are not typically welcomed among the other civilized races.”
“Are they like goblins and ogres?” Arthur asked.
“Not exactly,” Scout replied with a smile. “The midge aren’t…well…monsters.”
“But they do have a penchant for mischief,” Horcalus added.
Scout nodded. “A few midge have passed through Port Town over the years. Most people mistake them for human children at first because they’re really short.”
“Like dwarves?” Arthur asked.
“Sort of…but they aren’t as bulky, and they don’t grow beards,” Scout explained. “And according to Veldross, midge don’t like the taste of ale, which is very un-dwarflike. The midge don’t have much of an interest in crafting things or amassing great wealth either. Come to think of it, midge aren’t much like dwarves at all.”
Arthur scratched his head. “If they’re no bigger than children, why is everybody so afraid of them?”
“The midge may be smaller than goblins and ogres, but they are no less dangerous due to their aptitude for the arcane,” Horcalus said. “And…you see…how can I put this?…not only do the midge look like children, but in many ways, they behave like them too.”
“So, they’re childish wizards,” Arthur concluded, visibly unimpressed.
“Let me give it a try.” Pistol walked over to Arthur, who took an uneasy step back. “You’ve seen a little kid throw a tantrum after not gettin’ his way, right? Well, imagine what the little brat would’ve done if he’d the power to punish the people who’d said ‘no’.
“Rumor has it the midge’re the most powerful spell-casters in the world. They can launch a fireball quicker than you can tie yer shoes.”
Arthur looked from the pirate to Horcalus, who nodded grimly. “But why would the gods have given them so much power?”
Before anyone could answer—not that anyone had an answer—Lilac entered the common room, followed closely by Klye. Plake glared at the Renegade Leader, but he could not hold his gaze. Klye looked wretched, which made Plake feel relieved and guilty at the same time.
“You’ve all heard about the midge sighting?” Klye asked. When no one replied, he crossed his arms. “I know I look a mess, but we might all end up looking a lot worse before the night is through. This lone midge probably has nothing to do with us or Fort Faith, but I want to see what he’s up to for myself.”
“You’re going to follow him?” Scout asked.
“No, we’re going to follow him,” replied the Renegade Leader. “I want everyone to remain here in the inn until Scout and I return. Horcalus, you’re in charge while I’m gone.”
Klye looked around for a moment longer, as though he had more to say, but then made his way through the group toward the inn’s main exit.
Following his lead, Scout reached the door first and pulled it open. “Hope you don’t mind getting wet. It’s beginning to rain.”
After the door closed behind them, Plake muttered, “By the smell of him, Klye could use the water.”
Watching Klye and Scout through the window, Plake decided the Renegade Leader was either very brave or suicidal. He doubted he’d ever know what Lilac had said to get Klye out of his room, but he was not sorry she had done it.
Maybe now they could leave dreary, old Port Stone and get on with their mission—whatever it was.
* * *
The midge crossed Fort Faith’s threshold in absolute silence.
All eyes were fixed on the bedraggled traveler, who couldn’t return their stares due to the sopping straw hat that had fallen down over his eyes. As the midge entered the hall, his feet got tangled up in the train of his robe, and he barely caught himself before falling face-first to the stone floor.
After that, the midge removed the conical headpiece, revealing a cherubic face with big, blue eyes, a wide grin, and a mop of short, blond curls. The midge looked around, glancing at Opal and the Knights and the tall, thick columns that rose up on either side of the entryway.
As the midge took in his surroundings, Colt studied him in return, wondering what business the odd, little man could possibly have with him. The first thing he noticed was the midge’s blue robe, which was actually a shirt meant for a much larger person. He couldn’t even see the midge’s hands, which were lost somewhere inside the enormous sleeves.
Pouches and vials filled with gods-knew-what dangled from a thick leather belt with the biggest brass buckle Colt had ever seen. He carried no satchel or traveling bags—only a walking sick made from a reddish wood and topped with a blue gem that might have been a sapphire, but was more likely a gewgaw the midge had picked up at a fair.
“Sorry if I woke you up,” the midge said to no one person in particular. “I suppose I could have waited until tomorrow morning, but walking in the rain is only fun for so long, you know? Can I see Commander Colt now?”
Colt wondered if the midge had heard one of the sentries refer to him by his nickname or if he had known it beforehand. Silently, he prayed the former was true.
“I am Sir Saerylton Crystalus, the commander of this fort.” Colt took a step forward and extended his hand in a gesture of welcome.
The staff clattered to the floor as the midge grabbed onto Colt’s hand with both of his and shook violently. “Hi! I’m Noel. This is a lovely fort you got here. How big is it?”
The question caught him off guard. “Ah, I don’t know off the top of my head,” he confessed. “I know you want to talk to me about something, Noel, but can it wait until morning?”
He didn’t relish the idea of having the midge spend the night, but neither could he send him back into the storm.
“It can wait,” Noel replied cheerfully. “I’ll probably be here for a while, so we’ll have lots of time to talk.”
Zeke Silvercrown and Chadwich Vesparis exchanged uneasy glances, and he heard Opal stifle a laugh behind him.
“How about we talk first thing in the morning?” Colt said. “In the meantime, you’ll be provided a room with a fireplace so you can dry yourself and your clothing.”
“I don’t need a fireplace. This is a fire staff, after all.” Noel picked up his staff and held it up to Colt. “Do you want to see how it works?”
“No!” Colt answered, perhaps a bit louder than necessary.
“Oh, that’s right. You Knights don’t like magic, do you? But I’m sure you’ll get used it. The gods sent me here to help you, and I’m a darn good wizard if I do say so myself. But we’ll talk more tomorrow, Colt. You do look kind of tired. Wh
ich room is mine?”
Colt lingered in the front hall long after Sir Silvercrown and another Knight led Noel away. The night was more than half over, and Colt doubted he would find sleep now.
“Looks like you’re going to have a rather interesting day tomorrow,” Opal teased.
Then she walked away, leaving the young commander alone with his thoughts about Fort Faith’s mysterious guest.
Passage III
It was closer to sunrise than sunset by the time they returned to Port Stone.
Klye had been content to let Scout maintain a one-sided conversation on the trek back from Fort Faith, providing noncommittal responses when required. Scout didn’t seem to mind Klye’s reticence.
Having pushed his self-pity aside, Klye was focused on a single purpose—extricating the Knights from Fort Faith. But he found it hard to concentrate. Something lingered in the back of his mind. It had to do with the midge, of that he was certain, but he couldn’t figure out why the midge’s presence bothered him so much.
If anything, a midge inside Fort Faith would keep the Knights distracted…
The rain had stopped an hour ago, and thanks to the bone-chilling gusts that barreled down the slopes of the Rocky Crags, the two men were almost dry by the time they reached their temporary home.
From the outside, the inn betrayed no sign of its outlaw inhabitants; it looked as dark and still as the barren buildings around it. They were greeted at the door by Lilac, her hand resting on the pommel of the vorpal sword.
Beyond her, Horcalus was slouched over one of the tavern’s tables. His head, which had been resting in his hands, jerked up at the sound of the door creaking open. Klye wondered if the knight had actually fallen asleep while on watch but thought it more likely that Horcalus had tried to stay awake even after his shift was over.
“Well, what happened?” Lilac asked, making her way over to a window that looked out onto the deserted street. “You weren’t followed, were you?”
Rebels and Fools (The Renegade Chronicles Book 1) Page 31
