Rebels and Fools (The Renegade Chronicles Book 1) (31 page)

“So,
he’s not coming here?” Crooker asked hopefully.

“He’s
going to Fort Faith…or at least in that direction,” Scout replied.

Lilac
couldn’t guess what the presence of the midge portended, but it couldn’t possibly
be a good omen. “We had better tell Klye about this.”

Pistol
laughed humorlessly. “Whatever good that’ll do.”

Lilac
frowned. “Why don’t you three tell the others?” To Pistol she added, “I’ll give
Klye the bad news.”

Hurrying
to the yellow inn, she knew she would find Klye where he always was. Ever since
he and Scout had discovered the Knights at Fort Faith, he had done nothing but
sulk in the room he claimed as his own. Lilac, like everyone else, had been
content to leave him alone until he snapped out of it. But four days was long
enough.

If
Klye wanted to continue being their leader, it was time for him to start acting
like one.

*
         
*
         
*

Colt
was staring speechlessly at Sir Vesparis when a door to their right opened. The
young commander wrenched his gaze from the Knight’s somber visage and found a
much fairer face. Her long, red hair disheveled and enchanting green eyes
squinting in the torchlight, the sleepy maiden flashed the two men an uneven
smile.

“Is
it morning already?” she asked.

The
sheer, white nightgown clung to her shapely figure in a most alluring manner,
its hemline well above her freckled knees. His face burning with embarrassment,
Colt forced his eyes to meet hers.

Sir
Vesparis gave a quick bow and muttered, “Milady.”

Colt
coughed. “I am sorry if we woke you, Opal, but…well…apparently there is a midge
at the front door.”

The
dainty arches of Opal’s eyebrows rose. She slipped back into her room, and Colt
thought maybe he had scared her away. But when she returned a few seconds
later, wrapped in a long cloak and carrying a crossbow and quiver, he realized
he should have known better. While he had met Opal only a month ago, the woman
had already proven to be courageous.

“Well,
let’s have a look at the little bugger then,” she said when neither of the
Knights moved.

“With
all due respect Miss Opal, perhaps you ought to leave this to us,” Sir Vesparis
said.

“Look,”
Opal began, “I’m not going back to bed knowing that I could wake up to the fort
falling down on me. Besides, I haven’t had an excuse to use my crossbow since
we got here. I was promised armies of Renegades, but I’ll settle for a midge.”

Knowing
it was futile to argue with Opal, whose stubbornness was surpassed only by her
skill with the bow, Colt nodded and led the way to the fortress’s main
entrance. “Hopefully, it will not come to violence,” he said over his shoulder.

Falling
in step beside him, Opal’s only reply was an unnerving chuckle.

As
he, Opal, and Sir Vesparis moved through the silent fort, Colt sneaked several
glances at his beautiful companion. Her presence did much to boost his
confidence and lessen his apprehension. He couldn’t help but smile while
remembering the circumstances that had placed her in his life.

Actually,
it had been his uncle, Sir Rollace White, who had happened upon Opal by chance.
Rollace had accompanied Colt on his trek from Castle Crystalus to Port Errnot.
One night, while exploring the city, Rollace came upon a woman being attacked
by three thugs. The chivalrous Knight immediately threw himself into the fray.

But
Opal hadn’t needed help. According to his uncle, she had nearly fired a bolt
into his chest before realizing his intentions. Upon learning Opal had no place
to stay in the crowded city, Rollace offered her his room. The next day, before
parting ways with Colt, he had introduced Opal to his nephew. Colt had spent
the entire day with Opal while his ship prepared to embark.

To
his surprise—and delight—Opal asked if she could tag along to Capricon.

Colt
was all too happy to oblige. They spent a lot of time together during the
voyage across the Strait of Liliae. During one late-night chat, beneath a
canopy of a million sparkling stars, Colt had regaled her with tales of his
youth, recounting the myriad schemes his brothers had dragged him into.

Opal
had revealed an astonishing fact in return: she had no memory of her childhood
whatsoever. She had spent the past five years searching for clues about her
past, to no avail. She had yet to find the slightest hint about who she was.

Colt
had assumed Opal would continue her search once they reached the shores of
Capricon—why else had she decided to come to the island?—but now, after a
fortnight together, Opal had not once mentioned leaving to pursue her personal
quest.

He
wasn’t foolish enough to believe Opal remained at Fort Faith for his sake, but
she did seem to enjoy his company.

When
he, Opal, and Sir Vesparis finally reached the front hall, Colt had almost
forgotten about the midge. Knights positioned beside the massive double doors
snapped to attention the moment he entered the high-ceilinged room. They all
wore grim expressions save the Knight who came forward to meet Colt with a
hasty salute.

Like
Vesparis, Subcommander Ezekiel Silvercrown was soaked from head to foot. “The
midge insists on coming in.”

“Maybe
he just wants a place to wait out the storm,” Colt said, staring at the
massive, wooden barrier. “We could let him stay the night and send him on his
way in the morning. If we act unfriendly to him, we may end up provoking him.”

“The
midge is looking for more than shelter,” Zeke Silvercrown said. “He demands to
talk to ‘whoever is in charge here.’”

Something
sank to the pit of his stomach.

“The
midge is here for a reason,” Opal said. “That can’t be good.”

“I
told the midge it may take some time to arrange an audience with you in the
hopes he might grow bored and wander away. We might still be able to wait him
out.”

“Or
he’ll get tired of waiting and knock the door down,” Opal argued. “I’m not
thrilled with the idea of letting him inside either, but I’d rather deal with a
happy midge than an angry one.”

Zeke,
Opal, and the other Knights were all looking at him, waiting for their
commander to make a decision. Colt considered waking Petton and asking for
advice. No, his men would lose respect for him if he always ran to his
second-in-command for answers.

It
was his duty to meet with anyone seeking an audience.

“Let
him in.”

There
was at least one audible gasp, but no one questioned the order. Sir Vesparis
and another sentry removed the iron bolt and pulled open the double doors. As
if on cue, a jagged streak of lightning rent the stormy night, revealing the
sodden form of their unwelcome visitor.

Passage II

Crossing
the derelict common room in quick strides, Lilac passed Othello and Plake
without a word. Worried she might lose her nerve, she didn’t stop until she
reached the door to Klye’s room.

She
knocked loudly and waited a few seconds. No reply. She tried the knob, but the
door was locked.

“Klye,
let me in. It’s important.”

Silence.

“I’m
not going away,” Lilac called. “Would you rather I kicked the door down?”

She
heard the sound of someone stirring on the other side, and a moment later, the
door opened a few inches. The room was so dark she could barely make out Klye’s
features.

“What
do you want?” he demanded hoarsely.

“You
and I are going to talk,” she replied. “It can either be a private conversation
in your room, or we can chat like this, where everyone can hear.”

Klye
glared at her for a few seconds before mumbling something she couldn’t hear and
disappearing back into the dark room. He left the door open behind him.

She
entered and blinked rapidly to adjust her eyes. She spotted a stub of a candle
resting on a three-legged table beside Klye’s bed. The Renegade Leader said
nothing as she lit the wick. Standing with arms akimbo near the door, he
watched her without expression when she sat at the edge of his unmade bed.

While
the inn hadn’t been in the best condition to begin with, Klye’s room was worse
for his time there. Wrinkling her nose, she used the tip of one boot to push
the remnants of a recent meal from the vicinity.

“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’.