Darklight: A Coming of Age Fantasy (Darklight Series Book 1)

by Greg L. Turnquist

  “One of my contacts.” She was nervous to give out details. It was an old habit of protecting friends, accomplices.

  “One of your contacts?” Gavin looked down his nose.

  Snitch paused but knew she had to share everything. Being a former captain of the king’s guard, he tended to desire as much information as possible before making a move.

  “One of my contacts from the north side of Kelmar. Rumor has it he was caught by Melicose and forced to work for him. Something changed his mind two days ago, and now he’s trying to flee beyond the borders. I said I’d help if he told me everything he knew. Says he saw orders issued to set up four search-and-destroy teams in three days.”

  “Snitch, we've been over this. Those people are hard to trust. Too much misinformation has burned us. Remember the guy that tried to defect but turned out to be an agent?”

  Snitch pressed her lips flat and her palms started to sweat. She hated going toe-to-toe with Gavin. He was so hard to convince. Besides, they had caught on to that agent before disclosing the tunnel network.

  “This is different. He's not an easy-to-break plant. Not like that last one. This is for real. I could tell when he talked to me.”

  “That's not enough.” Gavin leaned on his arm, rolling his eyes.

  “Then why don't you ask for more details before dismissing her out of hand,” rang Clarel's voice from behind.

  Snitch spun around with widened eyes as a tall women with golden hair entered. “This isn't the first time Snitch has brought us valuable information from not so reputable sources. Perhaps you should cancel whatever you’re doing and focus on this?”

  The knot in Snitch's stomach eased, her shoulders relaxed. Clarel was always willing to hear what she had to say and never forgot the times Snitch was right.

  Clarel stared straight at Gavin.

  He paused at her request and twisted his mouth.

  She didn't like stepping on him, but sometimes he could be quite obstinate with civilians.

  His facial features softened. “Stevens, go tell the watch officer to assemble all officers in here. Everyone else, dismissed.”

  The group broke as everyone resumed their regular duties.

  “Sorry if I made you look bad back there.” She held her hands open, hoping to ease the tension.

  “It’s okay. You didn't exactly dress me down. Unfortunately, Glantham isn't here. I hate having to repeat intelligence. I suppose we should get Rodrina.” His eyes closed as he took a deep breath.

  “Her perspective is invaluable. But don't worry. I'll tell her.”

  Gavin’s square jaw loosened, and his eyes opened, nodding at that suggestion.

  Clarel left the room and headed along the main corridor toward the personal quarters. After passing several stacks of boxes, loose gear, and hatches, she stopped at one particular hatch and knocked.

  “Yeah?”

  “It's Clarel. There is an urgent meeting in the briefing room. We need you.”

  “Okay, give me a second.” The door opened, and a starkly dressed women of short stature stepped into the corridor. “What's happening?”

  “Snitch arrived with word of a pending attack from Melicose. In the tunnels.” Clarel stared down at Rodrina.

  Rodrina’s eyes opened wide before she squinted.

  Clarel continued, “We need to find out exactly what she knows and make sure it's genuine.”

  “I knew this was going to happen.” Rodrina squawked, straightening her glasses. “I told you Melicose wouldn’t sit by forever before deciding to come after us. Those narrow-minded royalists!” Despite her irascible tone, she proceeded to the briefing room with Clarel catching up.

  “You can't turn everything into a royalist/populist argument, Rodrina. You of all people should know that.” Calming things down before the meeting was important, especially since Rodrina could be so divisive.

  “Being imprisoned for carrying a less than popular view of the royalists can make things seem not so rosy.” Rodrina had her hands on her hips, staring straight at Clarel.

  “Moving for abolition of the monarchy isn’t ‘less than popular.’” Clarel gulped before offering a sheepish grin. “But that no longer matters, ever since Melicose destroyed the monarchy.”

  She spent a lot of her time smoothing over relations among her teammates, both military and civilian. Rodrina was the hardest. Then again, no one else had suffered the same as she.

  It was vital because Melicose was a dangerous threat to everyone, regardless of political roots. If only everyone would focus on the big picture, but they were so eager to frame things in their own political light. Getting pulled apart was something they couldn’t afford.

  “You have to be the most patient one around,” Rodrina said, softening her tone. She glanced up at Clarel through her large spectacles before entering the room. Her cynical mask, gone. “It’s quite rare that anyone else will grant me much patience, but you somehow find a way to hear what I have to say.”

  Clarel didn't know many who saw that side of her. “I just pay attention to what's important. Everyone here has something to contribute. We mustn't forget that.”

  As they entered, several of Gavin's men were already seated. She and Rodrina sat as well. A few more wandered in before Gavin addressed everyone.

  “Snitch reported that Melicose is putting together four search-and-destroy teams to assault the tunnels in three days. We need to assess the validity of this intelligence, and if true, devise a plan to deal with it. Let’s start with the details. Snitch?” He nodded to her.

  She rose and faced everyone. “Last night, I was on the north side checking in with my usual contacts. One tipped me off that a newly escaped prisoner was trying to get out of the city and needed help. I took it as an opportunity to glean new information. I mentioned I had a safe house that was good for the next forty-eight hours, if the price was right. Figured that would bait him to come to me. He might assume I had means to get him across the border. Within an hour, I was contacted by someone else—seemed like a solid bite.”

  “You have a safe house in the city?” said one of the officers.

  “No, but he didn't know that. If I picked the lock of a warehouse in the trading district, I could fake it.” Snitch folded her arms and sat back down.

  Gavin rolled his eyes.

  “Why would he tell you anything?” asked the same officer.

  “I planned to namedrop Gavin and hint that we had a way out in exchange for information. Not a bad deal.”

  Gavin rubbed his finger on his face, deep in thought.

  “He found me, and I hid him in a nondescript area near the markets. According to some secret orders he spotted, the tunnels are going to be attacked as Gavin just said.”

  The room erupted as questions flew back and forth.

  “Exactly where do we go now?”

  “Weren't the tunnels supposed to be the perfect cover?”

  “There is nowhere safe from Melicose.”

  “What if Snitch is wrong?”

  Clarel sighed at the ensuing chaos.

  “At ease!” Gavin bellowed. “This sounds like more than half-handed advice whispered on the street.”

  “Of course it is.” Rodrina rose from her seat. “I told you Melicose wouldn't sit still after we upped our resistance efforts. You think after taking control of Kelmar and then waging a successful campaign against the surrounding realms, he would put up with any of this?”

  All the shocked faces shifted focus to her.

  “You're not helping,” Gavin said, scowling at Rodrina.

  “Must you two continue this argument?” Clarel’s gentle voice pierced the room.

  Gavin and Rodrina glared at Clarel, mouths open, before backing off. Rodrina deflated into her seat.

  Gavin spent a few more seconds in silence, stroking his scruffy chin, before clearing his throat. “Okay, here’s the plan. Everyone will gear up and get ready to move out. At the same time, Snitch and I will go back to the surface
and check out this guy.” He shifted to look straight at Snitch. “You were right. I do want to talk to him. Everyone else remember—we travel light.”

  The officers tipped their heads.

  “If this checks out, we are going to do something many of you might not like—move to the lower levels.” Gavin paused after issuing that last order. He looked around the room.

  “Great.” Rodrina leaned back in her chair, slumping on her arm. Her mouth made a straight line as she shook her head.

  “It might be our only hope.” Gavin’s dark eyes connected with everyone in the room. “We have been doing deep tunnel training drills for a few months in case this was needed. I wish we had more time. Clarel, I am a bit concerned about you and the other civilians.”

  “You worry too much,” Clarel said, gesturing with her hand. “We'll pull through. All of us.” Putting as much strength as she could into her words, Clarel forced a smile as she glanced at the others.

  They looked back, many gritting their teeth. But with a glance from her, they seemed relieved.

  Her eyes darted to the floor.

  “Snitch, as soon as we get to your so-called safe house, we'll split up.” Gavin’s voice continued to boom as he dispensed orders, something he did with swift efficiency once his mind was made up. “You need to send word to those not at Base about our plans.”

  “Got it.”

  As the meeting wrapped up, Clarel slid next to her. “I don't know if I've told you, but your way of tackling the tunnels is unique. At least to me. It sure doesn’t come across like any of the officers. You must know more shortcuts than anyone.”

  Snitch grinned. “Thanks. To be honest, they don't frighten me. They feel safe. No one can get the jump on me, and my instincts haven't failed me yet. Gavin may be short on words, but he shows his appreciation every time he needs tips.”

  “I agree with you on his lack of compliments.” Clarel smiled. This young girl was filled with optimism. Could Clarel grasp any of it for herself? It was something that appeared to be in short supply in this room.

  “Snitch, I'll meet you at the main hatch in a couple of minutes.” Their moment was broken by Gavin’s interruption. “By the way, do you have any word on Glantham?”

  Snitch shook her head, clasped Clarel’s hand, and left the room.

  Gavin glanced at Snitch’s departure. “I have a pretty good idea when the others should finish their missions and be back. But Glantham?”

  Clarel saw the look on his face, as if Gavin was counting up the number of Undergrounders not present.

  “It is tough to keep a handle on him.” Gavin smirked. “That old man provides us with information about other things, but rarely about himself.”

  That was a fact agreed upon by all.

  Clarel stood and walked out of the room. She needed to talk to someone but wasn’t sure whom.

  Chapter Three

  A Revelation

  “Orders from Melicose’s vice commander, sir.” A slim, young private stretched out his hand, holding an envelope.

  Colonel Braknow’s eyes didn’t move. He was in the middle of writing a detailed report. This flunky could wait.

  The man’s arm shook and slid to his side.

  The colonel’s eyes glimpsed up as he squinted.

  The young soldier’s arm rose back to where it had been.

  “Just drop it on the desk.” He nodded without pausing.

  “Colonel, I’m ordered to deliver it hand-to-hand. Sir.” The man swallowed. His inability to hide his apprehension gave away how new he was.

  Braknow finished the sentence he was on before setting down the quill as he flattened his lips. He snatched the sealed piece of paper. Turning it over in his hands, everything appeared in order.

  “The orders are mine, stamped with the vice commander’s emblem. Dismissed.” His monotonic response was an old habit ingrained from uttering these words countless times.

  The soldier saluted.

  Braknow paused an extra second, just to see if the man would squirm. Seeing no falter, he returned the salute. The soldier pivoted and exited without another word.

  With a snicker, Braknow set the delivered orders on his oak desk, a piece of furniture he had found early on when they had first blazed into Kelmar’s palace under Melicose’s command. That had been a glorious day. To conquer such a crisp, strong structure was evidence of the regime’s rotting innards—and the hypocrisy of being ruled by monarchs. Being colonel had its benefits.

  Picking up his quill, he finished his report. One benefit of being ordered to manage the reserve troops that oversaw Kelmar instead of being part of Melicose’s campaign was the opportunity to catch up on paperwork. Folding up the report, he scribbled a name and destination. Reaching for the candle, he dripped a little wax on the crease before pressing his signet ring.

  “Corporal!”

  A short woman entered, striking a rigid pose, saluting. “Sir.”

  “Deliver this to Captain Matthews.”

  “Yes, sir.” She took the warmly sealed report and departed.

  With that complete, Braknow turned his attention to his new orders. He broke the stiff wax seal and unwrapped it, finding a short note and a smaller, sealed set of orders.

  Colonel Braknow, send this report to Melicose through our highest security channel, hand-to-hand. —V.C.

  Curious. Hand-to-hand, both ways. Full audit and full security indicated top secret. The protocol was clear. Seeing it in the vice commander’s scrawl hinted that no intermediary had taken this down, either.

  He grabbed the notebook on the end of his desk. Flipping to the middle, the colonel encoded the time and date of receipt in a long list of past orders. With a clean sheet of paper, Braknow drafted the enclosing order. Captain Yarby would be the perfect officer to relay it.

  The colonel’s eyes swept over the newly written order on his desk before they shifted to the door. His aide would be out for at least twenty minutes; sending the report to Matthews instead of Calvin ensured at least that much time.

  Reaching into his pocket, Braknow produced a shiny brass key and opened the strong box behind his desk. Past the coins, extra keys, and stacks of sealed reports, Braknow fetched a tiny box. After sliding several edge pieces, a small slot opened holding another seal. He pulled it out and returned to his desk.

  Holding the secret report a few inches above the candle, its seal weakened. Before the wax could run, he pulled it away and slipped his dagger underneath. The wax popped off perfectly. Unfolding the secret report, he scanned it top to bottom. His eyes widened. With another piece of paper, he dipped his quill in the ink well and copied it word for word. Signing the copy with “Raven”, he folded it up, put three small ticks on one corner, sealed it with his signet ring, and slipped it into his inner shirt pocket.

  The colonel then folded the original report and dripped a little wax on the same spot, putting just the right amount to replace the previous seal. Embossing it with the stamp from his strong box, he blew on it until the vice commander’s symbol shown as it did before. Braknow returned the stamp to its puzzle box, put it away, and locked up the strong box. Then he enclosed the original report from the vice commander with the letter for Captain Yarby and sealed it all with his signet.

  Knock! Knock!

  “Come.”

  His aide entered. “Sir, the report has been delivered.”

  “Good. Fetch the next express courier slated to head to the front. Immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.” She saluted before heading out.

  A couple minutes later, a young man entered. “Lieutenant Mickels, express courier, reporting as ordered.”

  “Take these orders, hand-in-hand, to Captain Yarby at the front.”

  The man accepted the sealed papers before inspecting them. “The orders are mine. Stamped with your seal.”

  “Dismissed.”

  The man departed, no doubt logging his own receipt.

  Colonel Braknow leaned back in his chair, his hand
brushing against the copy in his disguised shirt pocket, reassuring himself it was safe and secure.

  Spotting Rodrina heading down a hallway, Clarel rushed to catch up.

  “Here to cheer me up?” Rodrina’s glare was all too familiar.

  “No. You know I would never treat you that way.” If Rodrina would just drop her constant act of suspicion.

  Rodrina ducked into her quarters and motioned for Clarel to take a seat.

  “Sorry, but going to the lower levels has me on edge. The last person I should doubt is you. You’re probably my one true friend around here.” Rodrina broke a tiny smile. “I just wished that I had the same courage as you. I don't know how you do it.”

  Rodrina’s words made Clarel bite her lip. That was not what she sought. Looking away, she tried to contain the sense of dread that had grown since Gavin’s orders in the briefing room. A tear formed in her eye.

  Rodrina faced Clarel and said, “What is it?” Dropping everything, she knelt.

  “It’s . . . nothing.” Clarel wiped the tear away.

  “I don’t think so. Tell me.”

  Clarel clinched her hands and stared down.

  “Please, you can trust me. Remember, one true friend?” Rodrina rubbed Clarel’s arm before lifting her chin.

  “I'm not sure I can take much more. Everyone says, 'See that duke's daughter? She can brave the tunnels.' But I don't know anything.” Unable to hold the tears back anymore, they ran down her face. Clarel wiped her face as a lump formed in her throat.

  She had held onto her feelings for too long. “I can't fight. I don't understand politics like you. I can barely handle the topmost level where we get nothing more than a whisper of light near the surface hatches. Going deeper makes me feel . . . ”

  “I didn't know you felt this way. The lower levels scare me, too.” Rodrina clasped Clarel’s hands.

  No words were needed for Clarel to convey the dread that filled the pit in her stomach.

  “You provide us with the most important gift of all, hope. Everyone that has joined us has found you as a common friend. You aren't beholden to the old ways and have managed to forge something new.”