by Montana Ash
Beyden smiled as he remembered the few succinct sentences that had changed the course of his life. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, he had flinched when Ryker squatted down in front of him. Grief-hardened eyes had traced over Beyden’s features for a moment before Ryker spoke;
‘You don’t have the heart for this kind of fighting. But you’re good. Stay here and show the new recruits how good.’
Beyden was shocked at the offer, or rather, the command. ‘Don’t tell me what’s in my heart!’
His yelled response right up in the man’s grill resulted in nothing more than a blink; ‘You want to know why people hate so much; how they feel it, how they show it. So, stick around and find out. Or even better – teach the kids how to avoid it, how to overcome it.’
Even now, eight years later, Beyden felt himself melt a little from the memory. Their strong, gruff, rude Captain sure did have a way with words. After that day, there had also been no more bare-knuckled fights at the rear of the facility. All fighting was to be done under supervision and under the guise of sparring at all times. Weapons were also no longer allowed inside the common areas of the lodge. To this day, Beyden wondered what had prompted Ryker to change things. Surely, he hadn’t made that much of an impression other than getting his arse handed to him.
“You’re wrong.”
The voice inside his head had him coughing, effectively choking on his own spit, and he was beyond glad no-one was there to witness it.
“Other than me, you mean?” came Ryker’s laughing reply, before his voice turned serious again. “I remember, you were so determined to find out why people felt the need to hurt each other, despite your obvious distaste of senseless violence. I figured I’d give you what you came looking for; the feeling of pain, of hurt, of anger. But seeing the ache and confusion in those lion-eyes of yours made me feel something other than rage for the first time in what felt like forever,” Ryker explained.
Beyden found himself having to swallow hard before he spoke again even though he was speaking telepathically; “What was that?”
“Shame. I felt ashamed of myself and of my behaviour.”
Beyden didn’t know what to say to that, so he remained silent, feeling humble. Besides, the silence wasn’t awkward at all. Beyden heard Ryker clear his own throat;
“Now, about Trent –”
“You know about Trent?” Beyden interrupted, feeling his pulse spike.
“I know all,” Ryker intoned.
Beyden snorted and shook his head, “You mean Max; Max knows all.”
Ryker was silent for a moment before he replied, “Fine. Max knows all. She just told me. It’s why I was able to pick up on your thoughts – I was about to talk to you.”
“If it’s about punching Trent in the face, you can forget it,” Beyden said, swiftly. “Lark already suggested it and I nixed it.”
“Actually, I was going to remind you to keep the Order link open but I like Lark’s idea better. Damn, the boy’s getting vicious. That sister of yours must be rubbing off on him. He –” Ryker broke off abruptly but not before a jolt of adrenaline burst through the link.
“Ry? Is something wrong?” Silence met his anxious questions for a heartbeat, “Ryker!” he demanded.
“It’s okay, Bey. Just some unexpected visitors.” Ryker didn’t sound impressed but he also didn’t sound like he was in trouble either.
“What? Do you need me back there?” Beyden asked, already moving in the direction of his car.
“No. We have a full house and it looks like Knox is here too. We’ve got it covered,” Ryker assured him.
But Beyden wasn’t convinced. It was his duty to be at his liege’s side. His unresolved issues with his childhood friend were paltry in comparison. “I’m coming back.”
“Don’t. Seriously, Bey. We got this. Max isn’t in any danger. You know I would be the first to say so if she was. Besides, your sister is here with that damn sickle of hers. If my view from the window is anything to go by, she’s currently threatening to remove some guy’s dick.”
Beyden relaxed upon hearing Ryker’s assurances and the presence of Knox, who had turned out to be a powerful ally. But what really had him turning back around was the mention of his sister. Ivy was a force to be reckoned with; strong, calculating, and swift, and he loved every brutal hair on her pretty head. She had been the best big sister anyone could ask for and his fondest memories nearly all revolved around Ivy in some way.
He knew what others saw when they looked at her; a cold, unfeeling killer. But nothing could be further from the truth. Ivy felt things just as deeply as everyone else. The only difference was that her empathy was focused in a different direction – the chades. Her affections were likewise reserved for those select few she considered family. He couldn’t help chuckling when he thought of how much and how quickly that circle was expanding. Poor Ivy really stood no chance with his Order. They were embracing her and welcoming her into the fold, whether she wanted it or not. And she did want to, Beyden knew. She would just never admit it out loud. Rangers and their deadly reputations, he thought with affection.
“Are you absolutely sure?” he asked, one more time.
“Positive. I’m going out to watch the show – maybe see if the women will let me play too. Looks like they’re hogging all the fun,” Ryker pouted a little.
Beyden blew out a relieved and amused breath and allowed the link to go silent. But he flinched, reaching for his sickle, when he felt a disturbance in the air to his right. A small, speckled sparrow landed on his shoulder, dark irises eyeing him in concern. Beyden blew out a laughing breath. The little bird had clearly sensed his anxiety and was trying to soothe him. He reached out with a finger and stroked the small feathered head in thanks, soaking in the comfort offered up freely by his domain. Although he was a paladin and couldn’t literally talk to animals, he still had a strong connection to all beasts, great and small. He had been half tempted to bring Zombie along on his little trip but his four-legged pal had been enjoying a play in the garden with Bert, Cali, and Dex.
Speaking of which, he was feeling a particularly worrisome energy that was distinctly Cali and he was just about to open the Order connection wider when he spotted four men heading in his direction. Beyden didn’t recognise three of them but the dark head of hair, tanned skin, and lean build were very familiar. Beyden felt his heart skip a little; there was a decided sting of hurt but also happiness. Trent had been his best friend and in that moment, all Bey cared about was finally seeing him after all this time.
Trusting his Captain to call him if he was needed, he forced all his attention on the meeting about to unfold.
SEVEN
A gust of wind was their only warning before the shape of a man materialised in front of them. Dex was already up and moving, his feet not touching the ground as he held a borrowed sword to the throat of their surprise guest. The blade was serviceable and did the job but Dex would be lying if he said he didn’t miss his old blade. Ryker had given him leave to claim any weapon he wanted from the training lodge or his own personal armoury. Dex had instinctively gone with a sword. There was no way he could touch a scythe – it was the weapon of the paladins and would never be his right. He had asked Darius what had become of his precious Joyuese. His brother had been extremely apologetic when he admitted he had made no move to stop the council when they had come to confiscate all of Dex’s belongings – including his home and land. Although his brother had been very contrite, Dex could hardly blame him. At the time, Darius hadn’t wanted any reminders of the brother he believed had betrayed him.
But oh, what he wouldn’t give to feel the familiar weight of the twenty-eight-inch blade with the gold-inlaid pommel in his hand. The famous and almost mythical sword had been forged by the renowned blacksmith and Earth Warden, Galas, and had been like an extension of his arm throughout the centuries. Max had even coincidentally named her own blade after it – Joyuese. Or perhaps it wasn’t a coincidence, he thought, snorting over
the way everything seemed to be linking up. People, places, history – it was all coming together like a giant jigsaw puzzle. Too bad the puzzle picture wasn’t yet clear.
A firm grip on the edge of the blade, stalling the sword from slicing into what was now flesh, brought Dex back to the present. Dark grey eyes stared placidly back at him and Dex swore, lowering the sword and stepping out of the man’s personal space.
“Dammit, Knox. I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he grumbled at the ex-chade.
Knox merely grinned, shrugging a negligent shoulder. The man in front of him now with the smiles and the peace emanating from him was the very embodiment of Dex’s hopes and dreams. When Max had dragged Dex back from the brink of ruin, his most heartfelt wish had been to save others like him. To restore them to their former selves, their former lives, and to their families. The man in front of him now had somehow held onto a piece of his soul for five decades – a full twenty years more than Dex himself. But then, the man had some powerful motivation, didn’t he? Three sons. Dex couldn’t believe Knox was the father of the notorious triplets.
“Sorry,” Knox apologised for his abrupt intrusion.
Dex snorted, “No you’re not.”
Knox’s grin widened and Dex heard his fiancé’s purr behind him. All the women of the house seemed to think the redeemed chade was just as appealing as his replica sons. He turned and mock-glared at the light of his life, who merely raised her eyebrows at him and blew him a kiss. He sighed in resignation; Cali had been astoundingly horny throughout her pregnancy.
“You’re right – I’m not,” Knox admitted, looking relaxed and happy.
Dex smiled back – he couldn’t help himself. Besides, he wasn’t really mad at the guy. They had become fast friends as well as partners. Max had given them both authority over her ‘squirrel army’ as she referred to the dozens of redeemed chades now occupying the rundown hotel at the back of Dave’s equally shabby-looking pub.
Lark and Ivy had done an incredible job on their debut mission to find curable chades a couple of months ago. What had started as just himself had multiplied exponentially and now close to a hundred men were sporting shiny and whole souls.
About a third of those had been rounded up by the new love-birds over the few months they were on the road but the rest of them had made their way to the area on their own.
At first, they had all been mighty suspicious of the new arrivals. Dex had feared his initial reason for seeking out Max in the first place was coming to fruition. That chades were being drawn to Max to cause her harm. But Max had done her glowy-eye thing and it turned out the majority of them were genuine cures. Word was spreading, even among the chades. It was a real freakin’ miracle.
“What’s up?” Dex asked, finally, curious as to why Knox seemed to be in such a rush that he couldn’t just walk on his two feet like a normal person.
Knox’s easy smile vanished, “I came to report to Ryker and saw some intruders making their way here.”
“Intruders?” Cali asked, moving next to Dex.
Knox nodded his head in greeting to her, “Yes. They were just turning off the main road when I decided to ask them what they were up to.”
Dex saw the mirth in those grey eyes and said; “I assume ‘ask’ is a euphemism for ‘scared the shit out of them’?”
Knox smirked, “I may or may not have floated my way onto the hood of their car. The car is now regrettably halfway through a tree. Seems they weren’t expecting a man to hover on their windshield.”
“Shit,” Dex muttered, hearing Cali snicker.
“Are they still alive?” Cali asked, not sounding too concerned with the answer.
Knox nodded, “Yes. All four of them are remarkably uninjured. I believe they are all still making their way here on foot. After learning who they were, I thought it best not to kill them.”
Dex frowned now, “Who are they?”
Knox’s eyes softened in compassion, “They said their names were Patrick, Sid, Vance, and Simon. They said they were –”
“My paladins!” Dex interrupted, vaguely seeing Knox’s nod.
His many years in exile had been filled with thoughts of his brother and his other paladins. Even though he’d had such a large Order, he and his paladins had been close. After all, it was hard to be soul-bound with someone and not be close. His shame and guilt over regressing into a chade had extended to all eleven of his paladins. Even though he was cured now, he still hadn’t been able to bring himself to seek out the members of his past unit. Darius had given him some information but even he admitted to cutting all ties with the Order of Magne. Dex knew four of them were now dead and three others were bound in new Orders, including Darius. He had no idea what had happened to the other four and he had deliberately not sought out those still alive. Hearing that four of his old friends were on their way now had his hands sweating.
“You okay?” Cali asked, her hands taking his and placing them on her beautifully rounded stomach.
Dex spread his fingers out, gratified to feel bumping and rolling beneath his palm. Hitch was getting big and was already very strong – stronger than most babies, Dex was sure. And he was positive that wasn’t paternal pride speaking either. His baby was the best, most adorable, strongest, and smartest little fetus in the world. And his mother became more radiant and beautiful every passing day that she carried his child. He could hardly keep his hands off her, which was lucky, given her perpetual horny state. He had to admit, when Cali had started showing, the sex was a little weird at first. That was his kid in there – growing and moving. He didn’t want to traumatise the little guy for life or anything. And although it still freaked him out when the baby moved while they were going at it, Cali had more than successfully encouraged him to get over his hang-up.
“I’m not sure what I am. I never expected to see my Order again,” he admitted. “What do you suppose they want?”
“Here’s your chance to ask them,” Knox pointed out, gesturing over his shoulder.
Dex turned, placing Cali behind him, as his heart froze in his chest. Patrick, Simon, Vance, and Sid looked good. They looked a little older and a little more ragged than Dex remembered, but he knew life after a shamed liege was no picnic. The four men seemed to freeze in place when they got their first real look at him and Dex forced himself to raise a hand in acknowledgement.
“My lord!” Vance suddenly cried out, all four men going to their knee in front of him.
Dex had to force himself to swallow back the bile that rushed to his throat. No way should these men be kneeling at his feet. “Please don’t do that. Stand up.”
They heeded his command and the grin on Patrick’s face was familiar and welcome. “I can’t believe it’s you! I heard the rumours but I didn’t really believe them. But then when we ran into Sid and he said even the IDC admitted Charlemagne had returned, we knew we had to find you.”
“You look good, Charlemagne,” Simon smiled.
Dex winced, “Ah, could you maybe not call me that – ever? My name is Dex now. And I’m sorry, but I’m not the liege you remember. In fact, I’m not any kind of liege.”
The four men looked at each other, and although they could no longer communicate telepathically, they still knew each other well enough to know what the others were thinking. They all shrugged, Sid reaching out a hand;
“Hi Dex. Good to meet you.”
Dex choked, striding forward to pull them all into a messy – but manly – group hug. Lots of back-slapping and clearing throats followed, their excited words running into each other so he could barely understand what they were saying. But he didn’t care because he had some pieces of his old heart back. As much as he had moved on and accepted that he would never be the same man again, there was still a lot of good in his past. It was damned nice to be reminded of that.
“Oh, we brought you something,” Patrick said, discreetly wiping his eyes.
Dex gasped when he saw the cloth-covered object. He would know the size a
nd shape of his sword anywhere. Patrick removed the cloth and handed the blade to Sid who took a step forward, offering it to Dex. But just as Dex was about to take hold of his sword, Zombie came barrelling around the corner and began barking at Sid.
“Hey, Zombie. It’s okay,” Dex tried to soothe him but the dog was having none of it. His barks turned to growls when the four men peered at him curiously.
Cali retrieved her scythe from her hip, taking a defensive stance, “Don’t move a muscle,” she warned the paladins. “Why are you really here?”
They seemed confused by the abrupt shift and Sid looked at Dex as he answered, “What? My liege, we just told you –”
“Yeah, yeah,” Cali cut him off. “You can’t believe Dex is alive, you’re so happy, blah, blah, blah. We both heard what you said but it’s obviously bullshit.” She nodded her head in Zombie’s direction, “Our dog here doesn’t like you.”
“Sir, I promise you –” Sid began, addressing Dex once again but Dex held up his hand for silence.
The way Sid kept ignoring Cali was really starting to piss Dex off. That coupled with how Zombie was acting, had Dex’s hackles rising and acknowledging that Cali was correct – something wasn’t quite right. He gave a subtle nod to Knox and saw the man nod back. He was prepared too.
“Zombie here is a great judge of character,” Knox said, gesturing to the now knee-height dog. “So you’d better try again. Why are you here?”
Simon, Patrick, and Vance were looking at each other in confusion and it was Sid who chose to speak again; “I haven’t seen you in over forty years. We all thought you were lost to us. I’ve come all this way, even though I know how dangerous it is for me and you’re questioning me because of a dog?”
The man sounded incredulous but Dex could also hear the undercurrent of anger and he was now positive Sid couldn’t be trusted. He felt a twinge of pain in his chest because Sid had been one of his very first paladins and had been in his Order for several human lifetimes. They had fought battles and waded through blood and shit together. Sid used to offer his vitality to Dex so he could survive and continue to serve his domain. But surprisingly, the pain didn’t last long. He wasn’t the man’s liege anymore. He wasn’t a warden anymore. Hell, he wasn’t even Charlemagne anymore. He could never go back to who and what he was, and he genuinely didn’t want to. He had everything he could ever possibly dream of right here in the big, log home behind him, and the blonde, tall glass of water standing next to him.
