Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) (6 page)

“You know,
that’s really a contradiction of terms,” Marc said. “An oxymoron if you will.
You see, when you
act
, you’re putting on a façade, covering up what’s
normal
inside you. So really, how can you…”

“Marc,” Garnet
said shortly.

“Yes? Oh,
sorry,” he said.

Garnet shook his
head.

“So what’s the
word from the battle?” he asked.

“Well, funny you
should ask that,” Brican said. “Apparently the paladins have found something
odd about the three men who died.”

Garnet raised an
eyebrow.

“I detailed
three of my men to
help
the paladins so they can keep an eye and ear out
for what’s going on,” Brican explained without a trace of shame. “They all have
the regular claw marks you’d expect from a fight with demons, but apparently
the wounds that actually killed them are different somehow. They don’t have a
demonic taint, or something like that, and they look more like cuts from a
sword. They’re having a hard time overhearing everything the paladins are
talking about, and their thoughts are pretty jumbled right now.”

“So they weren’t
killed by demons?”

“They aren’t
saying that,” Brican corrected him. “They’re really just not sure what
happened.”

“Judging by the
damage they suffered,” Marc said, “those wounds would
have
to have been
inflicted by a demon, sword or no. Mortals generally don’t have the strength to
inflict that kind of damage, and I doubt one of our brothers on the field
suddenly turned homicidal.”

“An immortal,
you say?” Flasch asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

“Didn’t I just
say that?”

“No, you said
demon,” Garnet said, eying Flasch with troubled eyes.

“Well, yes, I
suppose I,” Marc stopped and stared at Garnet. “Surely, you don’t think…”

“He said he
doesn’t remember much of what he was doing during the battle,” Garnet said
softly, “and we all know he goes a little berserk where demons are concerned.”

“But you can’t
think Danner did this,” Marc protested. Michael voiced his own skepticism in
support of Marc.

“I’m not saying
he did,” Garnet replied, “but it’s something we can’t rule out entirely just
yet.” He turned to Brican. “Once Danner is up and about, see what you can get
from his memories. Trebor once said you were good at deep kything, I believe he
called it. I think we may need one here, and it’ll take someone of your
strength to peek through that mental barrier of his. Propriety be damned.”

Brican stared at
him.

“You’re
serious.”

“I am.”

Garnet looked at
the silent, worried faces around him.

“Damn it, I
don’t like it any better than you guys,” Garnet said in frustration, “and San
knows I’m hoping and praying nothing comes from it. I’m doing this as much to
exonerate Danner as anything else. We need to be sure.” Garnet paused. “For his
sake, and for ours.”

Slowly, the
others all nodded.

“And one way or
another, when it comes down to it,” Garnet continued, “no one tells him but me.
Once we know for sure, I’ll tell Danner what we did. God willing, he’ll understand.”

After that, it
didn’t seem there was anything else for any of them to say. One by one, they
got up and walked silently away from the group until only Garnet and Flasch
were left.

“You’re doing
the right thing,” Flasch said after a few silent minutes.

“Am I?” Garnet
asked softly. “Then why does it feel like my soul is sinking out through my
feet?”

“Because it’s a
hard decision,” the Violet paladin replied, “and because you care.”

Again, they were
both silent for a long time.

“It’s a tough
position you’re in, Garnet, and I really don’t envy you the burdens of
command,” Flasch said. “You just have to remember that you are, at heart, a
good man, and the things you do are from the best intentions. You recognize
there’s a darker side to what you’re asking, but because your intentions are
pure and in earnest, the love and goodness shines through. It’s a choice. It’s
free will, and you’re exercising it toward only the good in yourself and in
those around you.”

“The ability to
choose is the greatest power a mortal or immortal can ever have,” Garnet quoted
softly, trying to remember who had said it. He gave up after only a second of
thought, then turned his attention back to Flasch.

“When did you
suddenly get so serious?” Garnet asked with a faint smile.

“Shhh,” Flasch
said with an impish grin. “Don’t tell anyone, or my reputation will be ruined.”

Garnet barked a
short, loud laugh that was probably heard by half the camp.

“Thanks, Flasch.
I needed that. All of that.”

“We aim to
please,” Flasch said. “Now, if we could just get some personality into Guilian.
That man’s as flat as a desert and about as hospitable, too.”

“He
is
a
bit subdued, isn’t he? I’m hoping he’ll loosen up if we give him some time.”

“When we get
back to Nocka and reach Home, we’ve got to find him a girl,” Flasch said.
“There’s plenty of denarae women at Home, surely
one
of them will be
good for him.”

“Let’s hope,
anyway.”

Garnet grunted
as he slowly got to his feet. If he let Flasch keep talking, his friend would inevitably
mention Garnet’s own lack of female companionship.

“Now shut up
about Home, okay?” he said. “I already miss my bed, and you’re not making it
any better.”

Garnet clapped a
hand on Flasch’s shoulder.

“Come on, let’s
go see if the other paladins are eating something that at least resembles real
food,” Garnet said. “Whatever we ate last night finally stopped kicking in my
stomach, and after today, I’m starving.”

Flasch nodded
and made it a full dozen steps before he suddenly stopped and fell behind as
Garnet blithely walked on.

“Hey,” Flasch
called indignantly, “I cooked dinner last night!”

“Really?” Garnet
replied, looking back with a guileless face. “It was wonderful. Loved every
bite.”

From the earth we are born, to the earth we die. Every
dwarf who lives and dies returns to the earth’s spirit to enrich the whole of
our world’s essence.

- “Den-
Dunaekin
”
[9]
(Den-Furral translation – 504 AM)

- 1 -

Alicia sighed in
frustration and wiped a cloth across her grimy face. It didn’t help much – the
cloth was at least as filthy as her face was – but it made her feel better. She
glared at the cluttered room of overturned tables and broken chairs, wishing
she could just wave her hand and make it all disappear.

“How are we
ever
going to get the rest of this place clean if the boys keep running off?” Alicia
grumbled.

“They’re not
playing, Alicia,” Moreen said from nearby. She wore a rag tied in front of her
face to block the dust and a sort of bonnet on her head to protect her dark,
shoulder-length hair. Like Alicia, she wore a long apron over a serviceable
tunic and trousers, and she was at least as filthy as the other woman.

“I know that,”
Alicia sighed. “It’s just hard being stuck here to clean all this filth day in
and day out. It’s too bad the Prism doesn’t admit women – I’d almost rather be
out fighting the demons.”

Moreen laughed
lightly and leaned against the only table in the room that was right-side-up.
Her verdant eyes sparkled with casual mirth.

“Believe me,
Alicia, I can sympathize,” she said. “I used to think I’d go mad waiting for
Birch to return from this trip or that mission. Sometimes he’d be gone for
months at a time, and all I could do was sit on my fears and make due running
the Dragoenix. I honestly think that if I hadn’t had that place to keep up, I’d
have lost my mind from worry.”

“I’m not worried
about them,” Alicia said a bit too quickly. “Well, not really. They take care
of each other, and they really do know what they’re doing. It’s just…”

Alicia bit her
lip. As much as she loved and trusted Moreen – she was best-friend, sister, and
mother-figure all in one for her – still there were things she hadn’t yet told
the older woman, and she wasn’t ready to quite yet.

“I understand,
Alicia,” Moreen said sympathetically. “Really, I do.”

Alicia
hesitated, then nodded. She looked around.

“Just look at
this place,” she said, changing the topic. “You can’t even tell we’ve been
working in here for the past two hours.”

“Sure you can,
there’s a clean spot right over there,” Moreen said, pointing.

“Why the former
owner kept all this junk is beyond me,” Alicia grumbled, hiding a smile. “The
floor plan said ‘storage room.’ I was expecting crates of bedding, or wine barrels,
or something. I was
not
expecting a room full of garbage-heap cast-offs.
Nearly all of this should just be burned.”

“Well, we’ve got
a large firepit out front, and any day now we’ll have a group of big, strong
men who can haul it all out,” Moreen said with a wicked laugh. “I’m sure we can
find
some
way of persuading them to cooperate.”

“No dinner ‘til
it’s gone,” Alicia said, shaking her finger at an invisible person before her.
“They’ll have it done by the end of the night.”

“Get the other
girls in and change it to ‘no bed play,’ and it’ll be done in an hour.”

They both
laughed heartily until Moreen pulled down the cloth covering her face and threw
the rag in her hand to the ground.

“I don’t think
there’s much more we can do here until they get back,” Moreen said, waving her
hand at the dirty pile of broken furniture. Then she added with a wink, “Or at
least that we’re
willing
to do. What say you we go see what Cook’s got
on the fire for lunch?”

“I thought you’d
never ask,” Alicia said with a relieved smile. She turned toward the door and
swayed as a ripple of exhaustion swept over her. Alicia put one hand on the
doorframe to steady herself and forced a wan smile as Moreen looked at her in
concern.

“Just hungrier
and more overworked than I thought,” she said lightly.

Alicia untied
her apron and left it dangling over the leg of an overturned table, then
followed Moreen out the door and down the stairs to the common room. On the
way, they passed a handful of young men and women, human and denarae both. Some
worked as housekeepers and cooks, others were carpenters, smiths, and other
skilled workers who were helping to restore the enormous structure.

Built and
formerly owned by a wealthy merchant, Alec Hortiman, the building was the largest
inn and tavern ever built by the hands of men, be they human or demi-human. The
inn had sixty rooms in all for guests, plus a dozen more to house a regular
housekeeping and kitchen staff. The common room was large enough to accommodate
two hundred people comfortably, and nearly twice that number if they were cozy
enough. Before the war, the Iron Axe Inn was one of the most prosperous
establishments west of the Muad-tan River, and easily the most successful in
the city of Nocka.

Unfortunately,
its success proved its downfall during the Barrier War. Demons infiltrated the
city by tunneling under the walls and breaking into the basements that lay
beneath nearly every house and building. The carnage and mayhem they unleashed
on the city staggered the imagination, and even after the war was over,
soldiers who had so recently been cheering their victory went home to find
their families slaughtered in their beds.

The sheer number
of people cowering within the walls of the Iron Axe no doubt proved an irresistible
lure for the demons’ blood lust. The first men to enter the inn – scavengers,
looking to loot the valuables of the slain – turned pale with horror and ran
screaming into the streets. For nearly a month, the building lay untouched and
vacant except for the mutilated corpses within. Hortiman himself was later
found inside his inn, the eponymous axe still in his hands from a valiant but
futile attempt to defend his establishment.

As rumors began
to spread about the building, which was now thought to be haunted by the
spirits of the dead, word finally reached the ears of the officers in Shadow
Company. Garnet and a handful of strong-stomached denarae scoured the building
for signs of a lingering demonic presence, and when they pronounced it clear,
Shadow Company took over the building.

Danner’s father,
Hoil, purchased the building from the city officials for a fraction of its
estimated value. The devastated condition of the structure itself and the
gruesome contents made it easy to obtain a reasonable price, which was still
far more than most men could afford. Hoil was something of a notorious thief,
however, and while the price put more than a dent into his personal finances,
he waved off offers to help defray the costs. When Danner asked him, he said it
was his first step on making good a promise, and left it at that cryptic
response.

For the better
part of two months, a flood of human, denarae, and gnomish craftsmen had been
in and out of the building, first cleaning the remains of its former occupants,
then starting their work to repair the building itself. Danner’s old gnomish
friend Faldergash personally redesigned the kitchen stove and common room
fireplace and even installed small heating units in every room that could be
adjusted for the comfort of each individual resident. As the rooms were
cleansed of the bloody horrors within, Flasch led his fellow paladins in
prayers to cleanse the rooms of the foul taint left by the demons.

Now half the
rooms had been more or less restored to full use, and the rest just needed some
touching up and refurbishing. Most of the people killed had been in the public
rooms, so only a handful of the bedrooms had been bloodied. The worst carnage,
by far, had been in the common room.