The Devil's Deuce (The Barrier War) (21 page)

Danner stared at the gnome, stunned.

“I can’t decide if that’s a touching or a horrifying story,
Fal
,” Danner said.

“A little of both, I suppose, but it probably sounds more
melodramatic than it really was.” The gnome cleared his throat loudly. “Now
then, what brings this on?”

Rather than answering, Danner instead asked, “How did you
know you were in love? How would anyone know?”

Faldergash eyed him suspiciously. The gnome had long since
determined the source of Danner’s questions, but he was trying to get his
friend to talk plainly. He decided to answer his questions and hoped he could
help Danner somehow.

“Gnomish scientists have been working on just this problem
for decades,” Faldergash said after a moment, “and they think they’ve finally
figured out the why and wherefore. You see, everything in this world is made up
of little tiny pieces called atoms. They’re too small for you to see, but
there’s different types for everything. Plants are made of plant atoms, rocks
are made from rock atoms, and animals are made from different types of animal
atoms. Even in your body, your skin is made of skin atoms, and your hair from
hair atoms, and so on.”

Danner stared at him blankly, clearly not understanding what
this had to do with his question. Faldergash noticed his incomprehension and
rushed on.

“Well, anyway, we all have these little atoms in us,” he
continued. “Now, somewhere in there are our love atoms, and they’re pretty
active. Anytime you meet someone, you exchange love atoms, and they see if they
fit together. If they fit well, then you’re attracted to the other person. If
they don’t fit at all, then you’re not. It’s theorized that there’s only one
person in the world whose love atoms will perfectly fit with yours and vice
versa, and that’s the person you’re supposed to be with. Occasionally, you’ll
find someone where your love atoms fit really well, and that will lead to a
good relationship, maybe even marriage, but it’s not that perfect fit.”

“
Fal
, I really have no idea what
in the Hell you’re talking about,” Danner confessed. “That doesn’t even make
sense on its face. How in San’s name do you jump from tiny pieces of rocks and
plants and skin to tiny pieces of an emotion like love?” He’d understood some
of what the gnome was talking about – the physical part at least made some
sense to him – but emotions weren’t made of solid things. By feigning
complete
ignorance, Faldergash hopefully would give a completely different explanation
that was more likely to make sense.

“Well, then think of it like wrenches,” Faldergash said,
slightly miffed that Danner hadn’t understood it all at once. “What happens if
you’ve got a bolt and you don’t have the exactly right-sized wrench?”

“You borrow it from someone else?” Danner replied, teasing
slightly.

“No,” Faldergash said, glowering. “You make do with
something else. There’s only one wrench that will perfectly fit a bolt of a
particular size, but if you’re creative, you can use wrenches too large or too
small, to a certain extent, or even another tool entirely, and you can still
get the job done. But there’s only one size and one tool that works perfectly.
One perfect fit, one perfect love. That’s like your love atoms.”

“I get that part,” Danner said dubiously, “but how do you
know how these love atom things work? If we can’t see them, I mean.” At the
moment, he thought it better to humor the gnome’s explanation in hopes of some
gleam of insight.

“It’s not my field so I can’t give you more details than
that,
Danno
,” Faldergash said with a slight shrug of
his stocky shoulders. “I think the atoms are exchanged via the eyes, which is
supposedly why people in love seem so blind to the other person’s faults.”

“If you say so,
Fal
,” Danner said
with a sigh. “I think ale would do the same thing, though.” The gnome’s
attempted explanation left him frustrated and confused, rather than just
frustrated.

“Alright, let’s try something then,” Faldergash said with
narrowed eyes. “Sit back and relax. Now close your eyes and picture this scene
in your head. You’re upstairs in the room where you sleep. It’s early morning,
then sun is seeping in through your window, and you’ve just woken from a
pleasant dream.” Faldergash paused to give Danner time to engross himself in
the scene. “Now, you’re lying down, completely relaxed because it’s the weekend
and you have nothing to do. Remember, you’ve just woken up. Then you hear light
footsteps, and there’s a knock at your door. Who is it?”

“Alicia?” Danner asked.

“Hah!” Faldergash exclaimed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Danner demanded.

“That’s the first straight answer you’ve given me tonight,”
Faldergash said, ignoring Danner’s question. “If you can be that honest with
her intentionally, I think you’ve got a shot.”

“What in San’s name are you talking about?”

“Hopefully you’ll find out soon enough,” Faldergash said,
beaming at Danner.

Before Danner could again demand answers from the gnome,
Trebor came downstairs, yawning hugely.

“I think it’s time we left to meet with Gerard,” he said,
his voice distorted by the yawn. “Flasch?”

“I’m here,” he said, walking in from the next room. He laid
Marc’s book down on a side table, his bookmark considerably further along than
it had been earlier in the evening.

Danner stared at all three of them in frustration, then
threw his hands in the air with a sigh. “Alright, let’s go then.”

- 3 -

 Some of the equipment Gerard wanted was obvious in its
purpose. Four hundred bowkurs and padded suits for training, various weaves and
lengths of rope, and a regular supply of food and necessary provisions were
just a few of the things Gerard requested from the Prism stores. Other items,
such as clothing, armor, and actual weapons, he was told he would have to procure
from the city guard itself. These were normal items Danner could understand.

What he couldn’t figure out was what Gerard wanted with five
thousand blunted arrows, several yards of thick, black canvas, even more white
material, and the requested aid of the only two elven paladins currently living
in Nocka. These were part of a short list of things Gerard requested less
officially, pulling in favors from friends and comrades to get everything he
needed. While he was arranging for these, Danner, Flasch, and Trebor were
sneaking into a storage room and pilfering several dozen training cloaks. They
realized just as Gerard had that the Prism would probably never lend the cloaks
to him, no matter how much aid they had promised him. But Gerard was not about to
let such trifling matters bar him from running the training program he wanted,
at least not while he had the ready skills of two former thieves and Trebor,
who was the perfect spotter because he could hear the thoughts of anyone coming
and warn the two thieving paladins.

“We’ve got ‘
em
all,” Flasch said,
appearing from the darkness and lugging a huge bundle over his shoulder. Danner
followed after with a similarly large bulk, and handed a smaller bundle to
Trebor to carry.

“You’re sure you picked the one from the most recent dates?”
Trebor asked. “The blessings on your cloaks might be permanent, but these only
last a year, and I don’t fancy falling out of the sky because you grabbed one
that’s about to expire.”

“Relax,” Flasch said with a smile that did nothing to
reassure Trebor. “We know what we’re doing.”

Trebor snorted skeptically, but let it drop.

“Go ahead down to the buggy then, it should be clear,”
Trebor told them. “I’m not familiar enough with Gerard’s thoughts to pinpoint
him to tell him we were successful, so I’m going to go find him.”

“Right.”

Trebor left his bundle with them and walked through the
halls looking for all the world like he had every right to be there, which he
technically did. There was nothing to say he could not be there, despite the
circumstances of his previous departure, and he was on official business for
Gerard Morningham. He was ready to explain his presence at a moment’s notice if
running into someone was inevitable.

Eventually, Trebor picked out Gerard’s mind from the general
hum around him and he homed in on the paladin’s location so he could send his
thoughts more clearly and without the distraction of so many voices around him.
He was somewhat surprised to discover that Gerard’s thoughts were white-hot
with rage. They were so jumbled Trebor could make little sense of what he was
seeing and hearing, so he hurried down the hall until he was outside the room
where he knew Gerard was located. The door was slightly ajar, so Trebor peeked
in and saw Gerard leaning over a Yellow paladin’s desk, his face pulsing with
fury. The Yellow’s back was to Trebor.

“And I’m telling you I fully intend on holding you
spit-lickers to your promise,” Gerard said, his voice barely controlled. “You
said I wouldn’t be beholden to any of the city guard, and I take that to
include their quartermaster and supply officers. They can’t stymie me like
this, and I won’t allow you to let them.”

“Gerard, please understand,” the Yellow said consolingly.
Trebor recognized the voice and general thoughts of the Yellow paladin who had
presided over his hearing and subsequent removal from the Prism. “If he says
some items are in limited supply, there’s no reason to suspect…”

“There’s
every
reason to suspect he’s a lying,
sniveling, worthless excuse for a human who thinks he’s being cute by denying
my troops supplies just because they’re denarae!” Gerard shouted. “He had the
audacity to tell me they had no chain-and-leather armor and no swords, when I’d
heard him give a captain ten dozen of each not ten minutes before without a
second thought. He’s lucky I didn’t split his lying face open with my fist.”

“You didn’t hurt him, did you?” the other paladin asked,
concerned.

“No, Bart, I didn’t, but I’m seriously reconsidering
returning and rectifying that oversight,” Gerard growled. “When it became
painfully clear exactly what sort of asinine fool I was dealing with, I left to
follow these proper channels and procedures you keep telling me about, which is
why I’m here now demanding you uphold your promise.”

“I’ll certainly have someone look into it in the next few
weeks…”

“Damn it, I don’t need my supplies in a few weeks, I need
them
now
!” Gerard thundered, and Trebor saw the desk split in half as
the Red paladin’s fist crashed down. Papers and books slid to the ground in a
rush and scattered everywhere. “You think I can’t see what you’re doing? You
think you can fool me by pretending concern and amiability? You’re just as
bloody prejudiced as those idiots out there with their heads up their asses. I
don’t give a damn if I’m leading a company of denarae or of dung beetles,
they’re
my
soldiers and I’ll see they’re treated fairly.”

“Let me be blunt with you, Gerard,” Bart said, his face
dropping any pretense at friendliness. He turned his head slightly, and Trebor
could see he was slightly paler than usual, and the paladin glanced nervously
at the shattered desk on the ground before him. “The Prism will support you in
your endeavors to train the denarae, but where the city guard is concerned, we
are… reluctant… to intervene. The only reason the city isn’t up in arms at the
thought of a denarae army camped outside its walls is because we promised the
anti-denarae factions and political groups that they would not be a part of the
regular guard, and they would likely be limited to engineering duties.”

Trebor grimaced.
Engineering duties
was a euphemism
for digging latrines and other menial labor.

“I think you’re wise to restrict them to that camp you have,
rather than letting them run wild here,” Bart went on. “It’s a game of compromise
we must play to ensure the backing and support we need when the more dangerous
element arrives. You know what I’m talking about.”

“Yes.”

“When they arrive, if your denarae haven’t all deserted by then,
there’s already talk of putting them on the front lines. You were placed in
charge of the denarae because of your rebellious attitude, yes,” Bart said
candidly, “but there are some who voted to place you there because you are the
best chance they have of surviving what they will be put through. They are
sheep, and they will be led to the slaughter, unless you are able to pull off a
miracle and save them. That is the unavoidable truth. At least in that, they
can be useful.”

“How and why did you vote, Bart?” Gerard said, his voice
low. “Never mind. I don’t need to hear what I already know. You dare call
yourself a paladin and have the gall to wear that cloak.” Trebor could feel
fury and disgust sizzling off the Red paladin, it was a wonder the room around
him didn’t suddenly catch fire.

“You’re being a sentimental fool, Gerard,” Bart replied
condescendingly.

“Go to Hell, Bart,” Gerard growled, “and I mean that in
every way possible.”

Gerard strode angrily past him to the door. Trebor ducked
out of sight, lest he be visible when Gerard opened the door. He wasn’t worried
about Gerard’s knowing about his presence, but he’d rather the Yellow paladin
remained ignorant.

“What are you going to do, Gerard? We still need to talk.
Where are you going?”

Gerard turned slowly.

“Sheep need their shepherd, and I’m going back to my flock,”
he said, his voice icily calm. “I find their presence more pleasant than some
others I could name offhand.”

Gerard jerked the door open and slammed it shut behind him.
He showed no visible sign of surprise at seeing Trebor crouched in the shadows
nearby. Gerard motioned for Trebor to fall in beside him.

“You heard?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”