The Devil's Deuce (The Barrier War) (15 page)

“That won’t help Trebor,” Michael said in a low voice, “or
you.”

Danner jerked his shoulder free and glared at Michael. His
friend returned the stare calmly until Danner was forced to drop his gaze and
nod slowly.

During the interchange, the two paladins had disappeared, leaving
Trebor humiliated on the stage. He looked out into the crowd and caught
Danner’s eye, and he smiled sadly. Then without a word, he walked back down the
steps and through the crowd. The trainees parted for him silently. In fact, the
whole world seemed to have gone silent. Trebor’s boots didn’t even seem to make
noise as he crossed the grass of the courtyard.

All eyes were on his retreating back until Morningham called
for their attention, but the luster and excitement of the ceremony had faded.
Danner watched with scant interest as Michael was called forward and became a
paladin of the Yellow Facet. When Flasch was called up, Danner did finally
summon enough curiosity to watch him. Danner had pretty much figured out what
the others would be, but he hadn’t nailed down Flasch. It came as something of
a surprise, therefore, when Flasch found himself garbed in a resplendent violet
cloak. It was only after seeing the color on Flasch that Danner thought back
and realized he should have known all along.

“Danner de’Valderat.”

Danner looked up and saw Morningham watching him intently.

Probably wondering how
I’ll react to Trebor being so humiliated. To having his dream ripped from his
fingertips. Well, I’ll tell you how I’m reacting. I’m bloody pissed!

Danner stalked to the stairs, elbowing roughly past anyone
who didn’t see him coming and move aside. He put his foot on the first step and
stopped.

What if he protested? What if he refused to be tested and
quit instead? What if the others joined him?

Already he knew that part was impossible. He couldn’t ask it
of them, nor expect it either. It was their dream also to become paladins, and
they’d made it. From the second their cloaks had changed colors, they’d been
bound by the commitment they’d made to their training – to their dream. A
commitment made to God.

Danner’s quitting would have no effect on the Council’s
decision, he knew that. Still, for a moment, the idea appealed to him
strangely. Then he looked at Morningham again and saw something new in his
face. Concern. Something about that shook Danner deeply, and it made him put
his foot on the second step. Then the third. The fourth. Then he was on the
platform and walking toward the nearest paladin with a cloak outstretched. All
that time, Danner’s eyes never left Morningham’s.

The cloak swirled across his vision, breaking the spell, and
Danner blinked furiously. He glanced back at Morningham, but whatever crack
Danner had seen through was gone as if it had never been.

He looked down just as a ripple of rich, deep blue flowed
over his shoulders like a cleansing wave. Danner stared mutely at his cloak,
too numb to realize the implications of that sweeping change.

“Congratulations, Danner.”

Danner looked up and saw that the paladin who’d given him
his cloak was none other than Jon de’Serrika, the Green who was sort of a
friend. Danner smiled slightly in response, then turned and joined his friends
on the stage. He couldn’t help but feel angry that there were only the five of
them, not six.

A half-dozen names were called after that, but only one of
them became a paladin. There was a conspicuous silence in which no more names
were called. Danner looked out and saw seven trainees still standing in the
courtyard with no cloaks. Their names hadn’t been called. With something akin
to pleasure, Danner saw one of them was
Ashfen
.

“Sir, why weren’t our names called?” one of the boys asked.

“My training staff, in our God-given wisdom, has determined
that none of you is quite ready to be given this opportunity,” Morningham
declared, “but that shouldn’t stop you from continuing your training, if you so
choose, where you may be given another chance at a later date. If you would
care to dispute that, feel free.”

Not surprisingly,
Ashfen
raised
his hand angrily.

“I think my name should have been called, sir,” he said, his
voice tight.

“Oh,
Diermark
, that’s an oversight
on my part. You’re right, your name
should
be called,” Morningham said,
his voice dangerous. Had anyone but Morningham said that, Danner might have
been afraid
Ashfen
would, indeed, be given a chance.
But the steel sharpness in the Red’s voice was enough to say quite clearly
there had been no oversight.

“
Ashfen
Diermark
,
my training staff, in our God-given wisdom, has decided you are not of
sufficiently acceptable material to continue training in the Prismatic Order
under any circumstances,” Morningham said, his voice biting, “which is the
political way of telling you to get your ass packed and out of here by
tomorrow. It’s the polite way of saying that the Prism is no place for selfish,
petty, thick-skulled, baby-brained pricks who delight in fomenting discord and
seeking to bring others down in lieu of raising themselves up. And it’s the
nicest way I can think of telling you that you affront my delicate
sensibilities by your very presence behind the sanctified walls of my beloved
brotherhood, and if you’re still here by sunrise tomorrow, I will personally
skin you alive and hang your worthless pelt on the wall of the nearest
outhouse.”

He paused. “If you would care to dispute that, feel free.”
His voice made it painfully clear that if
Ashfen
so
much as opened his mouth, he would likely find a yard of steel shoved through
his gut. Morningham’s hand absently stroking the hilt of his sword drove this
message home quite clearly.

Ashfen
wisely stayed silent, his
face displaying an almost comical combination of fear, rage, and humiliation.
Danner no longer felt quite as bad about the manner in which Trebor was
dismissed. If the results were no better, at least the method had been less…
abrasive. Morningham could be truly offensive when he put his mind to it.

As
Ashfen
stormed away, Morningham
turned his attention back to the remaining six trainees without cloaks who were
standing clumped together as if for mutual support and protection.

“Anyone else?” he asked. Just as he turned his head to look
elsewhere, a hand peeked apprehensively from the middle of the cluster of human
bodies. Two of them moved aside to reveal a small, timid-looking trainee who
Danner recognized at once.

“
Jorgins
?” Morningham said, making
no effort to hide the incredulity in his voice. “What makes you of all people
think you’ve earned the right to be tested by one of these cloaks, you wrinkled
puppy?”

“
S..Sir
,
I d
..don’t
know if I
c..could
m..m..make
it,” he stammered fearfully, “but I’ve just
g..got
to
t..try
, sir.” He looked fearfully at Morningham’s
face, gauging his reaction. “I want to know for sure.”

Those six words were the most Danner had ever heard
Jorgins
say to an instructor, much less Morningham himself,
without stammering in distress. Danner had once heard people speculating that
if
Jorgins
ever
did
become a paladin, he’d be
in whatever Facet was the polar opposite of Red – courage. He couldn’t honestly
think Morningham would give him a chance, could he?

There was a moment of silence, then Morningham spoke.

“Perhaps you should know at that,” he said, all anger and
surprise gone now from his voice. He looked thoughtful, as if he were
reevaluating something he’d never questioned.

“Jeremy
Jorgins
,” Morningham said.

So that’s his first name,
Danner thought idly as he
stared at Morningham in surprise. Was this the same heartless man they’d been
training under for the last two months? Where was the Morningham they all knew
and hated?

Jeremy stepped forward, his whole body trembling, and he
mounted the steps carefully. He was of average height and build, with a round
face and uncertain eyes that flicked everywhere in apprehension. Jeremy took a
deep breath and approached a Red paladin, who settled the off-white cloak
around his shoulders and fastened it. The whole courtyard watched anxiously,
but after a few moments it was clear no change was forthcoming. Jeremy breathed
out heavily and seemed to deflate.

“Give it time, son,” the Red paladin near him said. Jeremy
nodded and walked to where the other trainees whose cloaks had not changed were
standing.

When no other challenges were forthcoming from the remaining
knot of uncalled trainees, Morningham declared the ceremony over. Then the congratulations
began, and Danner thought his arm might fall off from all the people wanting to
shake his hand in pleasure. Most were those who had, like himself, become
paladins, and Danner thought their congratulations to him were just as much a
pat on their own backs. He fought free as quickly as he could and found Garnet
and the others following suit. They smiled at each other, then their faces
turned grim.

“Trebor,” Marc said, and they all nodded.

In the eyes of God there exist no chosen people nor
master races.

- “Teachings of the Violet Facet” (454 AM)

I despise hypocrisy.

- written in the margin by Trebor Dok (1012 AM)

- 1 -

Danner and the others ran into Trebor on his way to the
Prismatic Council’s smallest audience hall. He had removed his false coloration
and was nearly hidden in the shadows. Trebor was genuinely pleased to see each
of them in their cloaks, but Danner saw the tightening of his eyes that belied
his inner pain. It was painfully obvious to them all that Trebor should have been
in the Green Facet, and their group suddenly didn’t feel quite complete without
his presence in a green cloak.

“Thanks, Danner,”
Trebor kythed to him gratefully.
“Thanks
to all of you.”

Trebor gripped each of his friends’ shoulders in turn, and
he didn’t try to dissuade them from walking into the audience hall with him.
Nor did the Council seem surprised to see them there, although Danner thought
that could have just been a false confidence they put up to save face.

Now Trebor stood in the middle of the room with a chest-high
wooden stand in front of him. He stared defiantly at the Council, not willing
to let them see him beaten or subdued by their decision. To their surprise,
Morningham walked into the room and settled in a seat a dozen feet from where Danner
and the others were seated. He nodded politely to them, then fixed his
attention on the Council. If anything, he looked even more defiant than Trebor.

There were some new faces on the Council since the last time
Danner had seen them gathered together, just before his uncle Birch had left on
his quest to hunt The Three. The new faces were courtesy of the subversive
presence of one of those demons on the Council and Danner’s friends’ subsequent
hunting of the perpetrators. They felt certain they’d found the last of the
Council members who’d been corrupted – eight in all. They had all been
delivered, relatively unharmed, to Morningham, who kept them out of the way.
They weren’t sure what the Red paladin did with his corrupted brethren, but
he’d said they were taking steps to try and reverse the demon’s influence.

With Lord
Rathamik
Donnor
and the other paladins gone – and some rumors said
dead – the Prismatic Council had been forced to refill nearly half its numbers
with men inexperienced in their new roles. They looked to the older, more
experienced members for guidance, and the Council had not yet chosen a paladin
to fill Lord
Donnor’s
shoes as its leader.

“We’ve called you here to ask if you have any objections to
this Council’s ruling,” a Yellow paladin said, the same man who’d gone to the
courtyard to deliver the fateful announcement.

“Oh, you mean I actually get a chance to speak in my
defense?” Trebor asked, his voice dripping sarcasm. “I mean, you’ve already
kicked me out and humiliated me, but now you say I can sway you with eloquence
and change your minds?”

“You’ve received ample opportunity since the charges were
first brought,” an older Orange paladin said stiffly.

“That depends on your definition of ample, doesn’t it?”
Trebor asked. “Which so clearly differs from my definition. But you’ve already
made your decision, and we all know why it was made, so can we remove the
terribly thin veneer of politeness and correctness with which you’ve so ineptly
and inadequately covered this issue?”

Danner actually smiled. Trebor had apparently been taking
notes from Morningham. There was a harsh bitterness in his voice Danner had
never heard before, and he was sad that it was so appropriate.

“Your tone is unacceptable, trainee Dok,” a gray-haired
Green paladin began.

“I was informed I’m no longer a trainee,” Trebor said,
interrupting, “so as a common citizen, I’m no longer bound by anything you have
to say to me. Of course, if I am still a trainee, let me put on the cloak I was
to be offered and receive what’s rightfully mine.”

The Council members shifted in their seats uncomfortably and
glanced at each other.

“If it is your intention to remain hostile toward this
Council…”

“You’re damned right it’s my intention,” Trebor said, cutting
in once more. “I don’t support hypocrisy or racial bigotry in any form, and I
see no reason to change that here or now.”