Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) (41 page)

Garnet motioned for
the elf to approach closer. Siran took three steps forward and stopped exactly
two arms’ distance away, the traditional position of personal respect without
intimacy among elves. For all that Garnet towered over the much shorter
demi-human, Siran carried himself with such a quiet strength that Garnet felt
he was looking at the elf at an equal height.

“We make good
time,” Siran said, staring off into the distance toward their unseen
destination.

Garnet nodded.
“Mikal says he’s speeding our journey along many times faster than it seems and
using his power to move us about through Heaven. Without him, it could
literally take forever to get anywhere in the immortal plane.”

Siran turned to
look back at Garnet.

“When my young
king ordered me to lead a force of his Elan’Vital to aid the paladins and cross
the Binding,” Siran said, his unwavering gaze locked on Garnet’s eyes, “I
followed his orders without question. He is my king, and he directs me where to
take his soldiers and whom we must fight.”

Garnet nodded,
unsure where the elf was going with this line of thought.

“During the
Barrier War, he commanded, I led and I fought. It is my place as a warrior.”

Garnet noticed
the elf’s slight emphasis on that final word. They had talked many times on
their journey to the Binding, and Garnet was coming to understand that in elven
society, the term “warrior” meant something more than just a man with a sword
in his hand. It was an ideal, a way of life that dealt with death. Slowly,
Garnet had begun to appreciate this point of view and to realize just how
closely it already fit with how he saw his role in life.

Siran blinked,
slowly and deliberately.

“During the war,
I observed your Gerard Morningham and his command over his company,” Siran went
on, apparently oblivious to a new tension in Garnet’s shoulders. “I had never
seen a finer commander of any race, and few warriors to equal his prowess. You
are most fortunate to have whet your blade under his command and had the chance
to learn so much from him.”

Garnet nodded.
“So I’ve always felt. My father taught me how to handle a blade better than
most men, but Gerard taught me how to
fight
. He forged me just as he
forged our company.”

“Yes, his
company,” Siran said. “Shadow Company, composed exclusively of denarae, save
for its officer corps. The first unit of such cooperation in recorded history.
Quite an accomplishment. The accolades and honors of the company were unheard
of, their skills unmatched.”

Garnet looked
away from Siran and focused on the nearest platoon of denarae. His men were
relaxing and passing around provisions, talking in low voices about things only
a warrior could know in ways only a warrior could appreciate. Without hearing
their words, Garnet could hear their conversations like he was standing there
amongst them.

I know them
so well!
He thought fervently to himself.

Aloud, he said,
“We were unmatched during the Barrier War. Now we have a new war, and I think
we’ll continue to be unmatched. We’ve rebuilt our numbers, and I’ve trained
them well. My company is ready for anything, even learning new skills to take
on the unexpected. We may all die of this accursed war, and if that’s our fate
so be it, but I’ll be damned if it’s going to be from any weakness. ”

“And that is why
we follow you,” Siran said softly. Garnet whipped his head back to stare in
surprise at the elven commander.

“You have
surpassed your mentor with the blade, and you have trained your company well,”
Siran said. “You are a commander worth following, and thus from you, others
will take their lead, no matter their race, strength, or hierarchy. Where you
lead, we follow. Where you stand, we stand. Where you yield,” and here Siran
paused and turned to look at the same platoon Garnet had observed only a moment
before, “we yield.”

Siran turned
back to regard Garnet with piercing, crystal-blue eyes. For a long moment,
human and elf remained silent as they probed the depths of the other’s eyes,
each trying to read the man and mind contained within. Apparently satisfied
with what he saw, Siran nodded respectfully and left without saying another
word.

Garnet pored
over the conversation carefully, searching out his reactions and trying to
discern the extent of the elf’s message to him. An hour passed without his
noticing. It wasn’t until Brican brought him a roll and a flask of water that
Garnet realized he was still standing in the same place, staring at nothing in
particular.

“Thanks,” he
said, accepting the rations. “Sorry, just woolgathering, I suppose.”

Brican grinned.
“How honest. A lesser man might have said he was strategizing or contemplating
the meaning of life.”

Garnet snorted.
“That one’s easy. According to Trames, the meaning of life is
living
.”

“How nice,”
Brican said. “That’s one down. Now if we can just get the old man to tell us
how to win this war, we’ll be in good shape.”

Garnet allowed
himself a brief laugh and took comfort in the momentary release. He rolled his
neck to ease some of the tightness in his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he
said, turning his attention to Brican, “you wanted to talk with me about
something important. I’m all ears.”

Brican glanced
toward the elven encampment and smiled faintly.

“Actually, I
think it sort of worked itself out in the meantime,” he said. He looked at
Garnet. “We’re all rested and fed. We augmented our water supply with some of
the water from yonder Philion River, which seems to work okay, so we’re in good
shape. Your company is ready to move out anytime, sir.”

Your company
,
Garnet thought.
My company.

“Get us underway,”
Garnet ordered. “Continue to follow the Philion, now that we’ve come to it.”
Brican turned to go, but sensed Garnet had something else to say. He looked
back over his shoulder at Garnet. Garnet was staring at the cloudy sky watching
a single-file column of angels fly overhead. The angels wove in complex
formations and doubled back repeatedly on themselves, but they never broke the
single-file, ordered precision of their flight.

“Ask Uriel to
meet me on the banks of the Philion while we march,” Garnet said. He smiled as
he looked down and stared at the distant river. “Birch and Kaelus, too. I want
to try something.”

- 2 -

Three days
later, Shadow Company came within sight of their destination. The sky slowly
darkened on the horizon until, within an hour, the distant clouds were black
and thunderous. Behind them stretched an eternity of milky white placidity,
while before them stretched an equally infinite sky of sunless night, and above
them churned a roiling, rainless storm front. Lightning flashed with such
regularity that there was always at least one powerful bolt visible somewhere
in the sky.

“Hazardous
flying,” Brican remarked dryly as he rode beside Danner in his buggy.

“Not that you’ll
have to worry about that,” Danner said, keeping a nervous eye on the storm
overhead. “It’s my boys that’ll be up in it, when the time comes.”

He glanced
about, struck by a sudden thought.

“Has anyone seen
my dad lately?” Danner asked.

“I passed him on
my way to the buggy a few hours ago,” Marc said.

“What was he
doing?”

“Looking for
someone, I think,” Marc replied. He shrugged. “He was asking questions of some
of the angels, I think. I really didn’t pay it that much mind, I just overheard
him in passing.”

Danner frowned,
then shook his head and focused on his driving.

Danner kept the
engine running at a low speed – the entire expedition had slowed at the sight
of the lightning battle overhead, and Danner had already nearly run over a
slow-moving dakkan’s tail. Since then, he kept it on the slow side, despite his
well-known penchant for speed and stunts.

A pair of
dakkans trotted past; the paladins riding them waved a quick salute to their
brethren in the buggy, then hurried on. Behind them, Marc and Flasch rode in
the back of the buggy muttering to themselves.

“What’s that
back there?” Danner asked when he heard his name.

“Marc says
you’re driving like an old, blind woman,” Trebor said.

“Sorry, Marc,
but when I drive faster, Trebor starts squealing like a little girl,” Danner
called back over his shoulder.

“Funny,” Trebor
said, faking a glower. “Very funny.”

Ahead of them,
Garnet leapt from the back of a low-flying dakkan and glided down to the cloudy
ground. Danner pulled up next to their friend and looked up expectantly.

“We’ve got about
a half-hour until we reach the rear guard,” Garnet said. “They look pretty beat
up, and Gerard and I agree they won’t last much longer. The paladins will take
point, and I want Shadow Company on the left flank. Siran and his elves will
cover the right.”

“Formation?”
Flasch asked as he stood and leapt out of the buggy.

“Variable
pattern Dakkan,” Garnet replied. “Brican, relay that to the other commanders, I
want Red and Yellow out holding our front, but if things turn sour I’ll need
Orange in reserve to hold the line while we regroup. Flasch, be ready for
anything.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Trebor, you
remember how to drive this thing?” Danner asked as he idled the engine and
climbed out of the driver’s seat. “Good. Take the wheel.”

“Treb,” Garnet
said, “I want you with Gerard. You’re my relay man from the command tent. Keep
me posted on everything that’s going on, not just orders for Shadow Company.”

“I’m on it,”
Trebor said. He threw a quick wave at Danner and the others, then revved the
engine and sped off toward where Gerard and Mikal would be.

“Get to your
platoons and be ready,” Garnet ordered. “I need to brief Siran and my father,
then I’ll be on-hand.”

With that,
Garnet turned and strode swiftly toward the main body of the marching paladins.

Danner, Brican, and
Flasch looked at each other a moment, then simultaneously they shrugged and
hurried off to their respective platoons.

- 3 -

Gerard glowered
at the map on the ground in front of him. Hell’s armies blanketed the lands
beyond the choke point they were approaching, and it seemed only the presence
of Heaven’s rivers was preventing them from sweeping around and annihilating
the fragile stronghold.

Yet, it wasn’t
the dire circumstances of the war that occupied his mind.

Not five minutes
ago, Gerard had been ordering the movement of troops, using angelic messengers
dispatched by Mikal to carry word to the stronghold that they were approaching
and what actions he wanted taken in preparation for their arrival. He planned
out the deployment of the spear of paladins that would soon pierce the enemy’s
front lines and send them back reeling. He set the elves on their flank to
provide the paladins some measure of protection in case they overextended
themselves. He set the flight patterns of angels who would provide covering
fire from the air.

And he set the
deployment of Shadow Company with orders to be passed on to each of the
platoons, so he could shift the platoons around to capitalize on the skills
they had honed.

“No, sir, we
won’t deploy like that. That’s foolishness, Gerard.”

Garnet’s words
had stilled all noise in the command tent Gerard and a select few others
occupied – those who were capable of keeping secret the identity of the true
commander of the Heavenly Host: the demon Kaelus.

“My presence
here will be impossible to hide,” Kaelus had said, “but my status must be
concealed.”

At the time,
only Mikal, Birch, Kaelus, and Uriel were present in the tent with them. The
four of them stared at Garnet with something akin to amazement, and only Uriel
had dared to smile amidst the sudden tension in the tent.

“What did you
say?” Gerard asked slowly.

“I said that’s a
foolish way to deploy Shadow Company,” Garnet said. “Three months ago, that
would have been an excellent plan. Since then, however, things have changed,
and that won’t work anymore. We’re trained differently now, at least in some
areas, and the company doesn’t function like it used to.”

“What do you
mean, doesn’t function like it used to?” Gerard asked, not bothering to conceal
his rising anger. “I built and trained that company as the most lethal, most
diverse fighting force ever. I thought I taught you better than that, lad. I
thought you understood that when I turned things over to you. What do you mean
by changing that design?”

“It’s my
company, Gerard,” Garnet said, his voice quiet and his gaze intense. He locked
eyes with Gerard. “Turned things over? You died. You were no more ready to turn
things over than I was to take control, but we were neither one given a choice,
were we?”

“Why you
insolent…”

“It’s
my
company, Gerard,” Garnet repeated, louder this time and more firmly. “You
trained Shadow Company for the needs of the time. When someone needed something
impossible done, we did it. We were the best, and you made us that way. At the
time.

“That time is past
now, and it’s a new monster we face with new weapons made to fight him,” Garnet
said forcefully. “If you need the impossible, we’re still the ones to call on,
just tell us what, when, and where. But you let me decide
how
it’s done,
and I command my own unit. I know my company, and I know its capabilities
better than I know my own family.”

Gerard glared at
him, silently fuming as he sorted through Garnet’s words. When he didn’t
respond, Garnet continued in a milder tone of voice.

“I remember how
much you hated interference from the Prismatic Council and the military
bureaucracy of Nocka’s defenders,” Garnet said with a slight smile. “If I have
an unusually strong desire for the autonomy of my command and for my leadership
style, you have only yourself to blame as my example.”