Rebels and Fools (The Renegade Chronicles Book 1) (38 page)

 

*
         
*
         
*

 

Gingerly
rubbing the side of his head, Klye tried to make sense of what was happening
around him. Dominic Horcalus was fighting a short Knight covered in
strange-looking armor. The mystery of Horcalus’s reappearance was eclipsed,
however, by the presence of Noel.

Klye
watched as Red helped the midge to his feet and wondered if he was dreaming
again.

Then
Arthur was at his side, saying something Klye couldn’t quite comprehend, but
his eyes lingered on Red and Noel. Idly, as though watching players on a stage,
he wondered what would happen next.

A
sudden force stung his cheek, jerking his head violently to the right. He
turned to find Arthur recoiling, his eyes wide in fright.

“I’m
sorry, Klye. I didn’t know what else to do.”

It
took him another second to realize Arthur had slapped him. A great dizziness
overcame him when he tried to get to his feet, but Arthur was there to steady
him. He fought through the wooziness, resisting the urge to surrender to
unconsciousness.

The
Renegade Leader had many questions, but he needed to regain control of the
situation before answering any of them.

 

*
         
*
         
*

 

Opal
said a silent thank-you to Cholk for getting Horcalus off their back. She
glanced back at the Renegades’ supplies and found Arthur was gone. She looked
around frantically, trying to locate the boy and found him tending to Klye, who
was trying to stand up. The Knights who had accompanied Cholk and Noel remained
on the other side of the hill. She could only assume that the other Renegades
were keeping them busy.

She
and her allies were outnumbered. With Klye and Arthur on the verge of rejoining
the fray, it was only a matter of time before the enemy overpowered her
friends.

“Noel,
you have to use your magic to get us out of here.”

The
midge brushed the soil from his robes, glaring indignantly at Horcalus. If he
was at all concerned with the battle raging around them, he didn’t show it. At
Opal’s words, he looked up at her, his face creased with worry.

“I’d
love to take us back to the fort, but it doesn’t work that way,” Noel said.
“Everyone is really far away from each other. Mass transport spells are tricky
enough with the group all together…not to mention all these other people are in
the way.”

Klye
retrieved his sword, which had landed not far from where he himself had landed.
Arthur had his hatchet in hand.

Meanwhile,
Noel continued to ramble on about the different spells in his arsenal.

She
grabbed the midge by his collar, pulling his face up to hers. Noel’s eyes went
wide in astonishment, the tips of his toes barely touching the ground.

“Just
do something!”

Opal
let Noel fall back on his heels. She was about to run over to the Renegades’
unguarded supplies, where she hoped to find her quiver, but froze when her eyes
met Othello’s.

The
archer didn’t move. He didn’t have to. While his gaze was locked on her, the
tip of his arrow pointed lower—at Noel.

Without
taking the time to think, Opal stepped in front of Noel. “You have time for one
spell…make it quick!”

She
heard the drone of Noel’s chanting but never took her eyes off of Othello. The
Renegade’s arrow pointed at her heart. She waited for the telling twang of the
bowstring, the flash of starlight reflecting off an arrowhead in flight. She
imagined she could see the archer’s bright green eyes despite the darkness.

Then
the air began to stir around her, and she saw nothing at all.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Passage IX

 
 

Horcalus
had managed to land a few hits, but each blow was deflected by the curious
armor his adversary wore. The short, stocky warrior was possessed of an
impressive strength and fought in the manner not at all like the Knights of
Superius.

If
he didn’t know better, he would have sworn he was trading blows with a dwarf.

The
keen edge of the axe grazed his arm, bringing Horcalus’s full attention back to
the battle. Had he been any slower, he might have lost the limb altogether.

Grimacing
against the pain, Horcalus capitalized on the opening in his opponent’s
defense, thrusting his longsword into the crease between his opponent’s helm
and breastplate. The two pieces of armor apparently overlapped, however, for
again his sword was stopped short of striking flesh.

Horcalus
pulled back, ready to dodge. He dared not parry that great axe, not trusting
his strength against that of his enemy. He might deflect the blow, but in the
end, the repeated collision of battle-axe and longsword would wear him out. As
he again avoided the fall of the crescent blade, he looked for a weakness in
his opponent’s equipment.

He
saw no straps or buckles, no unprotected areas whatsoever to exploit. The suit
of armor appeared almost seamless in places, as though it were the warrior’s
second skin. Just what kind of Crypt-spawn am I fighting, Horcalus wondered.

If
he didn’t disarm his opponent soon, he wouldn’t survive the battle. He gave
ground, putting space between them and silently urging the creature to gain
momentum. He wanted his adversary to become bolder, needed him to take wider,
wilder
swings. Timing was everything, and if he failed in this, he wouldn’t live long
enough to regret it.

His
body tense, Horcalus awaited the right moment.

But
then the horn-helmeted warrior disappeared, along with everything else.

Horcalus
feared he had gone blind—or worse. The cold moisture against his face told him
he was still very much alive. He heard his opponent let out a frustrating
growl. Although they were but a few feet apart, Horcalus could see nothing
through the thick, dark fog engulfing them.

Confused
shouts and cries erupted from all around as the black mist blanketed the
battlefield. Abandoning the axe-wielder, Horcalus took a few tentative steps in
the direction he had last seen Klye and Arthur. Seconds later, he heard the
Renegade Leader calling out to his men, rallying them to his position.

Horcalus
sighed but obeyed. He could hardly believe he was willingly rejoining the
rebellion. But after what he had witnessed that day—the Knights’ inclusion of a
midge in their ranks—he could no longer deny the Knights of Superius had truly
changed for the worse.

 

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*
         
*

 

An
enormous black cloud churned toward Colt, and the distraction almost cost him
his life. At the last second, he brought
Chrysaal-rûn
up to deflect the
female Renegade’s thrust. Then the miasma surrounded them, and he lost sight of
his opponent entirely.

He
feared that the thick fog was a Renegade trick, but when the woman warrior
gasped, he realized she was as baffled as he was. Colt took a few steps back
just in case she decided to blindly slash into the darkness. However, the sound
of retreating footsteps told him she was retreating.

“Commander,
are you out there?” The voice came from off to his right.

“I’m
over here, Zeke. Follow my voice,” he shouted back. “Sir Wessner?”

When
no answer came, he called out again, trying to recall where the Knight had been
before the darkness besieged them.

“I
am here, Commander,” Sir Wessner replied a moment later. He was farther away
than Zeke had been, but his voice grew louder as he neared. “What is that
strange light? Is that your
sword
?”

Colt
had lowered his weapon when the fog engulfed him. Glancing down at the crystal
sword, he saw that it was indeed shedding a dull bluish light. He nearly
dropped it in surprise.

Slowly,
he brought
Chrysaal-rûn
up before his face, searching for the source of
the illumination. The ancient weapon’s glass-like blade glowed as thought an
azure flame flickered within. He touched the blade with one finger, expecting
to find it hot, but the smooth blade was as cool as ever.

Colt
never doubted the crystal sword was a unique weapon—the transparent blade alone
made it so—but now he suspected there was more to
Chrysaal-rûn
than
anyone, his grandfather included, had ever supposed. He recalled slicing
through one rebel’s short sword and wondered what else the crystal sword could
do.

What
if
all
of the legends were true?

Tucking
the mystery away, Colt raised
Chrysaal-rûn
above his head and waved it
like a signal torch.

“Follow
the light,” he bade his companions.

Zeke
and Sir Wessner soon found their way to him. If they were curious about the
limited illumination provided by
Chrysaal-rûn
, they left their questions
unspoken. Colt tried to keep his voice steady as he shouted for Opal, Cholk,
and Noel and tried not to think about what could have happened to them.

A
few minutes later, he was startled by a deep voice a few feet ahead of them.
“Give it a rest before I go deaf as well as blind.”

“Cholk!
Thank the gods you’re all right,” Colt said.

“It
would take more than a handful of humans to bring me down,” Cholk promised.

In
Chrysaal-rûn
’s glow, Colt made out Cholk’s stout frame as he came to a
halt before the Knights. A taller, slender figure stood beside him. The woman’s
fiery hair looked almost purple in the sword-light, and her fair skin resembled
that of a frostbitten corpse.

But
just then, Colt thought he had never seen Opal look more beautiful.

“Thank
the gods,” he repeated.

Colt
almost scooped her up in an embrace before catching himself. She smiled at him.
He would have been content to stare into her eyes for the remainder of the
night, but he was very aware of the others around them. “We need to get out of
this haze. Can you see through it, Cholk?”

“I’m
afraid not. If not for that blue light, we probably never would’ve found you.
What we need is for that twice-damned midge to null his spell.”

Colt
looked heavenward and closed his eyes. He hadn’t even considered Noel was
responsible for the chaos.

“Noel
was right next to me when the fog came,” Opal said, “but when I reached out for
him, he was already gone.”

“Where
could he have gotten off to?” Zeke Silvercrown asked.

As
if on cue, the gloom parted around them, and they were found themselves in a
pocket where the light of the moon and stars could reach them. The black mist
continued to swirl around them, but it was held at bay by invisible walls. And
in that eye of the storm, as it were, walked Noel.

When
he finished adjusting the drooping brim of his hat and saw everyone staring at
him, his face lit up like a child’s on Winter Solstice morn. “I’ve been looking
everywhere
for you guys. You weren’t leaving without me, were you? And
after everything I did to help rescue Opal! The least you could say is, ‘Thank
you for using your magic to save us, Noel.’ But no—”

“Noel,”
Colt barked, “did you summon this fog?”

Beaming
proudly, the midge said, “I sure did.”

“But
why
?” Colt asked.

Noel
frowned as he considered the question. “I didn’t want Klye’s friends to hurt you
guys, so I cast a spell that would make it impossible for them to fight you
anymore. And it worked! Now can we please go back to Fort Faith and tell
Lieutenant Grouchy about how I heroically saved the day?”

“How
can we go anywhere when we can’t see where we’re headed?” Cholk gestured at the
fog around them with his battle-axe. The crescent blade came perilously close
to Noel’s head. “Can you make it go away or what?”

Noel
looked taken aback by the question. “Of course I can, but then the bad guys might
come back.”

Cholk
looked ready to take a swing at Noel, so Colt quickly interjected. “The battle
is over. Unless I’m mistaken, the Renegades are long gone. We have what we came
for, Noel. It’s time to go home.”

“So
now I’m a ‘what’?” Opal asked incredulously, hands on her hips.

Colt
felt his face grow warm. “You know what I mean. Noel, would you please get rid
of the fog?”

Shrugging
his small shoulders, Noel made a simple gesture with his left hand and muttered
something Colt couldn’t make out. The magical shroud instantly vanished. The
moonlit countryside stretched before them.

Colt
had the sensation he had just stepped out of a tunnel. Trying to orientate
himself, he scanned the area around them and found the hill where the Renegade
archer had been positioned. The remnants of broken weapons and armor marked the
spot where he, Zeke, and Sir Wessner had fought the rebels’ front line. But the
Renegades were not to be found.

Part
of him was disappointed the rebels had escaped, one and all, but that regret
was buried beneath his relief to have Opal back safely at his side. They had
accomplished what they had set out to do, and no one had gotten badly wounded
in the process.

Recalling
the fate of his late cousin, Colt knew returning home with all allies alive and
well was no small victory.

He
wasted no time in setting their course, using the Star of the North to guide
them back to Fort Faith. Other than Noel, who busied himself with composing a
song about their recent adventure, everyone walked in silence, lost in his or
her private thoughts.

Colt
was already making plans to track down the Renegades. But when he felt Opal’s
hand on his arm, he was more than happy to set aside his plotting for the
moment.

“I
want to thank you for coming for me.” Her voice was as serious as Colt had ever
heard it. Then she winked and added, “I would have tried harder to evade
capture, but I wanted an excuse to see you in action. We wouldn’t want you…or
your armor…to get rusty from inactivity, would we? ”

Colt
tried his best not to grin. “Perhaps I ought to invite a few more midge to stay
at the fort. Then you’ll never have to worry about a night passing without
excitement.”

Her
laugh eased the tensions of the trying night, and he no longer cared about the
Renegades, the mischievous midge, or what Petton was going to say when Noel
returned to the fort with them. That Opal was alive and well was all that
mattered.

He
silently vowed to be her protector for as long as the gods allowed—and he
prayed she would deign to stay at Fort Faith forevermore.

“By
the way, what ever happened with Albert?” he asked.

She
chuckled again. “You’re not going to believe this, but I think Noel was right
about him. I overheard the Renegades discussing their encounter with a wizard
named Albert Simplington.”

Colt
was too stunned to say anything, but Noel’s song suddenly contained a lyric
that sounded suspiciously like “I told you so.”

“I
learned quite a bit about the rebels when I was with them,” Opal continued.
“Their leader is a man named Klye Tristan—”

Noel
stopped mid-stride and nearly fell flat on his face when the toe of his shoe
got caught in the hem of his robe. “So you know Klye too?” he asked Opal.

“You
could say that,” Opal replied. “How do you know him?”

“He’s
an old friend of mine.” Noel wormed his way between her and Colt, who
reluctantly made room for the midge. “Actually, Klye and I didn’t get along all
that well. He was always picking on me. But Zack and Earl were there to keep
him in line. You see, we had to work as a team in order to save the world from
a bunch of scary fiends.”

Cholk
gave Colt an exasperating look.

“I’m
telling the truth!” Noel insisted. “You believe me, don’t you, Opal?”

Opal
gave the midge a reassuring smile before saying, “Noel
did
use Klye’s
name on the battlefield. And the Renegade Leader seemed quite surprised to see
him.”

Cholk
shot the woman an amazed look. “Wouldn’t
you
be surprised if a midge
appeared out of thin air and attacked you? I, for one, refuse to believe a
midge and a Renegade saved Altaerra from certain doom.”

“He
wasn’t a Renegade back then,” Noel argued. “He was a thief. We all had to use
our talents to save the world. And it wasn’t Altaerra. It was some other world.
I can’t remember the name of it, but I don’t think the gods want me to
remember. It was like a secret mission. The gods brought us back to Altaerra
once our work was done. What I can’t figure out is why Klye would have gone
back to being a bad guy after being a good guy for so long.”

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