Scout pulled out a chair and took a seat across from Horcalus at the table. “No chance of that, Lilac. Even if the Knights had seen us…which I’m sure they didn’t…there’s no way they could’ve followed the path we took back from the fort. We made a lot of twists and turns because Klye wanted to be on the safe side. That’s why it took so long to get back. I have a lot of experience with losing pursuers. Just ask Leslie. There was this one time—”
Horcalus cleared his throat. “What did you learn about the midge?”
Before Scout could launch into a dramatic reenactment of what had happened, Klye said, “We got there just in time to see the Knights let him in. We weren’t able to get a good look at him, but judging by his size, I’d say that he was, in fact, a midge.”
“Of course he was,” Scout interrupted. “I saw him up close, remember. He was wearing a wizard’s robe and had a pointy hat and carried a staff. What else could he have been? A dwarf wouldn’t be caught dead dressing like that.”
“But why would the Knights welcome a midge into their midst? What could it mean?” Lilac asked.
“I wish I knew,” Klye replied gravely. “I suppose we should be happy he didn’t wander into Port Stone, but we may end up encountering him yet…if he stays at the fort.”
“You mean you’re still planning on claiming Fort Faith for the Renegades…even though the Knights got there first?” Scout asked.
Klye nodded. “We’ve wasted precious time while they settled in, and I take full responsibility for that. But since they don’t know we’re here, we have the element of surprise. I haven’t thought of a plan on how to evict the Knights yet. I’m open to suggestions.”
Horcalus make a sour face, but when their eyes met, the knight quickly looked away.
“You know, Klye,” Scout began, “I didn’t plan on sticking around once we got to Fort Faith. I’ve always been loyal to the Renegades of Port Town. But I admire what you’re trying to do out here. Maybe I’ll stick around and see how it all turns out. You’ll probably need my help more than Leslie does anyway.”
Oblivious to Klye’s surprised expression—he had assumed Scout would remain a member of his band—Scout continued, “Obviously, we don’t have enough people for a proper siege, but there are plenty of other ways to harass the Knights. We could cut off their food supply, though I’m sure they do a lot of their own hunting anyway, so that might not work. I know a recipe for these stink bombs that smell worse than Port Town’s sewers. Then again, if we’re going to occupy Fort Faith after the Knights are gone, that might not be such a good idea. There’s always the option of poisoning their water—”
Horcalus jumped to his feet. The chair he had been sitting on fell backward with a crash. “Absolutely not! These Knights have not harmed us in any way. I will not stand idly by while you murder them!”
For once, Scout was speechless. He stammered for a couple seconds, looking from Klye to Lilac for help. Finally, he managed to say, “That’s not what I meant. I’m no murderer. Not all poisons are lethal, you know!”
“What do you suggest we do, Horcalus?” Lilac asked calmly.
The knight continued to stare hard at Scout for a few seconds before letting out a deep breath. As he turned to address Lilac, he seemed to regain his composure, standing up straight with his arms at his sides. “Perhaps we ought to parley with their commander.”
The room was quiet as Klye considered the suggestion. What was the purpose of meeting the Knights anywhere but the battlefield? It wasn’t as though anything the Renegades said would convince the Knights to pack up and go on their merry way.
“What would we gain by parleying?” Scout asked.
“It’s not what we would gain, but rather what we would not lose…namely, our lives,” Horcalus explained, and there was an edge to the knight’s words that told Klye he might have more to worry about than the midge at the fort.
“The only reason I came to Capricon at all was because of Ragellan,” Horcalus continued. “He thought there was a chance we would find the answer to why we were arrested, but now Ragellan is dead, and I find myself assailed by still more questions. Rather than meet the Knights of Fort Faith with weapons drawn, I propose we greet them with words.”
He still thinks this is just a misunderstanding, Klye realized. Despite what he has seen with his own eyes, despite the fact that the Knights of Superius hired assassins to kill him, Horcalus still thinks his former comrades are in the right.
“The Knights want you dead, Horcalus,” Klye stated. “If we approach the fort in peace, the only answer you’re likely to get is a spear in the gut. I know you were one of them once, but you must accept that the Knights of Superius have changed…for the worse. They’re your enemies now.”
Horcalus winced as though Klye had struck him. “No, Klye. The Knights are your enemies, the Renegades’ enemies. I am not a Renegade. Fight if you must, but I am going to get to the bottom of this my way.”
Horcalus stormed out of the common room, slamming the door to his room behind him seconds later.
“I didn’t mean to upset him,” Scout said quietly.
“It’s not your fault,” Klye said. He could feel Lilac’s eyes on him, perhaps waiting for him to go after the knight.
But what could Klye possibly say to him? Could they blame Horcalus for not wanting to confront his former friends? No, Dominic Horcalus was not a Renegade. He had never been one.
Klye was still trying to determine the best way to deal with this latest complication when he heard the sound of a door opening back by the kitchen. Klye immediately recalled the inn’s rear exit, a secured door that the Renegades had left bolted.
Could the Knights have followed them in spite of Scout’s best efforts?
Klye leaped to his feet and saw Scout do the same. Both men had their hands on their weapons, but before Klye could take even a single step toward the back door, something moved in the shadows to his left.
His heart skipped a beat when a tall silhouette separated itself from the darkness. Klye moved to lunge at the intruder, but at the last second he recognized Othello. The archer had been keeping watch on the other side of the common room the entire time.
Now Othello took great strides toward the bar and vanished into the kitchen. He reemerged into the common room a moment later to report what Klye had already begun to fear.
“Horcalus is gone.”
* * *
When he woke to someone beating a fist against his, Colt would have sworn he had only just closed his eyes. It couldn’t possibly be morning already, his hazy mind argued, but a cursory glance into the waking world—made through a single, half-opened eye—provided him with proof.
Raising a hand to shield his eyes against the sunlight, the young commander groaned and threw back his blankets in surrender. As he rolled out of bed, his mind still clouded by the ethers of sleep, the pounding came again—louder, more insistent.
“Just a minute!”
He dipped his hands in a basin on the table beside his bed and splashed some water on his face. Had he overslept? He could think of only one person who would come to fetch him if he had. Colt grabbed Chrysaal-rûn and stumbled to the door without bothering to buckle belt or scabbard. He flung open the door, expecting to find Lieutenant Gaelor Petton and his disapproving frown.
But it was Cholk—wearing a disapproving frown.
Of course, Cholk almost always scowled. Dwarves had the reputation for being unfriendly to those not of their race, but Colt thought Cholk must be the surliest of the lot.
“Good morning, Cholk.” He hadn’t the slightest idea what had brought the reclusive dwarf to his bedchamber so early in the morning, but at least it hadn’t been Sir Petton beating down his door.
“They say you let a midge in the fort,” Cholk said, his low, gravelly voice sounding harsher than usual. “You tired of living, boy?”
The memory of Noel’s late-night arrival returned in the blink of a red-rimmed eye. “Great Pintor, that’s
right! I had better talk with him before Sir Petton gets there first.”
Without bothering to close the door behind him, Colt took off in the direction of the fortress’s meager guest quarters. Despite his shorter legs, Cholk had no trouble keeping up with him. Colt knew the dwarf was not only faster and stronger than one might guess, but also more intelligent than people gave him credit for.
“You seem to have an affinity for picking up strays,” Cholk said waving a thick, stubby finger at him. “First, you and your uncle bring me to Port Errnot after we cross paths on the road. Next, you invite Opal and that old doctor to tag along once you reach the city. And now that we’re finally safe and sound in this fort, you open your door to a midge. Blood and bones, boy!”
Colt answered Cholk’s grousing with a pleading look. He had more important things to worry about than Cholk’s dislike for someone he hadn’t even met yet. Then again, Cholk’s resentment toward Noel made sense in a way.
Having come from a far-off land somewhere in southern Thanatan, Cholk was unlike any dwarf Colt had ever seen. The only dwarves the people of Continae typically encountered were the inhabitants of Afren-Ckile—fair-skinned, bushy-bearded traders and craftsmen who spent more time beneath the earth than above.
Cholk’s people, on the other hand, were a dark-skinned race of nomadic warriors who cared nothing for gold or jewels. They were a nocturnal people, waiting out the day in mountain caves or ditches they would dig themselves and hunting at night.
Unfortunately, that was all Colt knew of Cholk’s people. The dwarf was extremely tight-lipped about his past, which was another difference between him and the dwarves that had visited Castle Crystalus. Why, on one occasion, an Afren-Ckile ambassador had entertained the long into the night, sharing tales of his amazing accomplishments as well as the heroic deeds of his ancestors.
But there was one thing that Cholk had in common with his lighter-skinned cousins…
“I thought the Knights of Superius were smart enough to stay away from spell-flingers,” Cholk muttered, confirming Colt’s belief that no one distrusted magic more than a dwarves.
“Judging by how you feel about the midge, maybe it would be better if you weren’t there when I—”
Colt could not finish his sentence, for his lungs were suddenly bereft of air. Upon rounding a corner, he had collided with Albert Simplington, the surgeon he had hired in Port Errnot. The papers the doctor had been carrying fluttered in the air all around them, yet somehow the skinny, old man had managed to remain on his feet.
“Oh, pardon me, Commander. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Neither was I.” Colt knelt down to help the doctor gather his things.
Albert’s long, white beard grazed the floor as he hunched over to retrieve the pages. The creased, paper-thin skin on his hands and face appeared to be draped directly over bone. Once Opal had joked that Albert was older than Continae itself, but in truth, they had no idea what his age was.
The Knights hadn’t yet required the surgeon’s services, so Albert spent most of his time in his room, reading and writing.
Colt was curious what the old man was working on, but Albert deftly changed the subject whenever he brought it up. Before handing the papers back to Albert, Colt took a quick glance at them, hoping to gain some insight into the surgeon’s hobby. Sadly, the pages were blank.
“Thank you,” Albert said, shuffling the pages together. Bobbing his head, which was bald save a few white hairs that tenaciously clung to his temples, he wished them a good day before disappearing around the corner.
“I don’t like him,” Cholk said flatly once Albert was gone.
“You don’t like anybody,” Colt countered.
Cholk snorted but didn’t deny the charge.
They descended the stairs at the end of the corridor. Apparently, Cholk intended to meet the midge. Colt supposed it a good sign the dwarf wasn’t carrying his enormous battle-axe.
Two Knights stood guard beside the guestroom door. They snapped to attention when they saw Colt approaching. After learning that Noel had slept like a log all night and had yet to make a peep, Colt dismissed the Knights. They hesitated for but a second before thanking him and making their escape.
“Maybe you should’ve kept them here just in case,” Cholk said, “not that two Knights would make much of a difference if the midge attacks.”
“He’s not going to attack,” Colt argued—though who could say for sure?
Colt knocked lightly on the door.
“Just let me know if you need me to throw him out. I’ll have my hands around his scrawny throat before he can even think about squeaking out a spell.”
Colt shot the dwarf an unamused look before knocking again. They waited another full minute, but there was no reply.
“Maybe he’s a sound sleeper. Want me to knock the door down?” Cholk asked.
Colt turned the knob. The midge hadn’t bolted the door, so he slowly inched it open, peeking inside the room. Sunshine streamed through an open window, illuminating an empty bed.
Colt felt sick.
He rushed into the chamber and searched the closet, under the bed, and beneath the ruffled blankets that had been pushed onto the floor. He even looked out the window, but there was no sign of the midge.
“Could he have sneaked past the guards without them seeing him?” Colt asked.
Cholk grunted. “Since when do midge need doors?”
Colt was at a loss. Noel had probably wandered off to look for him, but Colt had no way of knowing where in the fort the midge was now. He returned to the hallway, uncertain where to begin, when heard an explosion that shook the very foundations of the fortress.
He and Cholk exchanged alarmed glances. Angry voices wafted down the stairs he and Cholk had used moments ago. To his chagrin, Colt could make out Petton’s baritone among the shouts and curses. Whatever had happened, he was certain the midge was somehow involved.
Albert, gray coat aflutter, came soaring down the stairs at the same time they reached them. He was taking the steps two at a time and moving much quicker than Colt would have thought possible. Albert’s usual serene expression was twisted by rage.
“This could have been prevented,” he was saying, continuing his rant without pause. He seemed to be talking to himself and to Colt at the same time. “All I wanted was privacy, but apparently that is too much to ask. You can find yourself another surgeon, Commander, because I quit.”
Albert Simplington pushed past them, earning a dark look from Cholk, but the doctor never noticed. Still rambling and waving his stick-like arms in the air, he disappeared around a corner.
Colt considered rushing after Albert, but then three more people arrived on the stairway. Lieutenant Petton, maintaining a clamp-like grip around Noel’s upper arm, half-led, half-dragged the midge alongside him. Opal followed closely behind the two, looking as confused as Colt felt.
“What’s going on?” Colt demanded.
“I might ask you the same thing, Commander,” the lieutenant replied. “Imagine my surprise to learn we have put up a midge for the night.”
Colt felt his face burn. “I’ll explain later, Lieutenant. Meanwhile, what was that loud crash? And why is Albert so angry?”
Noel tried to take a step forward, but Petton yanked him back beside him. Cutting the midge off with a glare, the Knight replied, “Apparently, our guest took the liberty of breaking into Albert’s room and snooping through his possessions. I heard the doctor shouting from down the hall and got there just in time to see the midge shoot fire out of his staff, which Albert narrowly avoided.”
“My name is Noel, not ‘the midge,’” Noel said, trying again to wrench away from Petton.
“What were you doing in Albert’s room?” Colt asked.
Noel regarded Colt with such an innocent expression that Colt almost felt guilty for asking the question. “I’m so sorry Colt. I wasn’t trying to cause trouble, I promise. I was looking for you because the sun was u
p, and we were going to talk this morning, but then I was walking past that room, and it was calling to me, and I just had to go inside.”
“Gods help us!” Cholk exclaimed. “He hears voices.”
Noel stomped his foot. “It wasn’t a real voice. It was more like I was being pulled there. Because I’m such a good wizard myself, I can sometimes feel when there’s magic nearby, and there was lots of magical stuff in that room. There was a lot of magic in Albert, too.”
“He’s either lying or he’s crazy,” Cholk said.
“Albert is just an old surgeon,” Opal said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll admit he’s a bit eccentric, but he’s no wizard.”
“Yes, he is. But I can’t prove it now because he made all of his spell books and magical par-a-pher-na-li-a disappear before this guy got there.” Noel jerked a thumb at Sir Petton. “The only reason I shot a fireball at him was because he tried to kill me first.”
Cholk scoffed.
“I swear I’m telling the truth, Colt.” The midge looked absolutely miserable, and Colt was surprised to find he wanted to believe Noel. None of it made any sense, but standing before a midge, he wondered why that should surprise him.
“I think it’s time our guest was on his way,” Petton said.
“But we never had our talk!” Noel protested, looking pleadingly at Colt. “You can’t throw me out for defending myself. He attacked me first!”
“Maybe I should fetch Albert so he can provide us with the other side of the story,” Opal suggested. “I was just on way out for a ride anyway.”
Colt nodded his thanks and watched the woman walk away, envying her freedom. He turned around to confront the midge once more, only to find Noel regarding him with a big smile. Colt suspected he didn’t want to know the answer, but he asked anyway.
“Noel, why are you smiling?”
“It’s like I said last night. The gods sent me here. I didn’t know why at first, but maybe it has to do with Albert. Who knows what that strange wizard was up to?”
Colt shook his head, avoiding both Petton and Cholk’s disapproving frowns and wondering how he was going to figure out what this strange wizard was up to.
Rebels and Fools (The Renegade Chronicles Book 1) Page 32
