DemonWars Saga Volume 1 (137 page)

Roger Lockless waited in the camp for a short while, then, when no one was paying much attention to him, he stole away, on the trail of the ranger and the woman and, he knew, their private scout.

He caught up to Elbryan and Pony in a meadow lined with pine trees, and blushed deeply, reconsidering his course, when the man and woman embraced each other and kissed passionately. Roger breathed easier when they broke off the clench.

If he had examined his feelings a bit more closely, and more honestly, Roger would have realized that the kiss bothered him more than it should have, that not only did he not wish to spy on such a private moment, but especially not one involving this beautiful woman. But Roger wasn’t capable of that level of introspection where these two newcomers were concerned, not yet, and so, seeing the embrace finished, he crept closer into position, and was not surprised in the least when a melodious voice came down to the pair from the branches of a nearby pine.

“Fortune favored us this night,” Juraviel explained. “For the giants are gone, all of them, and a fair number of goblins, too. The only better scenario would have been an open brawl between the giants and the powries.”

“But that did not happen,” Elbryan replied. “Thus, we must assume that the powrie force is still considerable.”

“Indeed it is,” Juraviel confirmed. “Though their leader has been roasted!”

“The folk wish to attack Caer Tinella, to reclaim it as their home,” Pony put in.

“Is that not correct, Roger Lockless?” Elbryan added, recognizing that the young man was about.

Roger went even lower to the ground, put his face right in the grass.

“I do grow weary of this one’s spying,” Juraviel remarked, fluttering down from the tree.

“Well, come out, then,” said Pony. “Since you wished to hear what we would say, you should at least join in the conversation.”

Roger told himself repeatedly that there was no way these three could see him, no way that Elbryan and Pony could know, without doubt, that he had followed them.

“Stay with your face buried in the grass, then,” Elbryan said with a chuckle. “I am against the attack,” he offered to Juraviel.

“And with good reason,” the elf replied. “If the war was still a stalemate, then we might consider striking such a blow. But I doubt that Caer Tinella serves as anything more than a temporary home for the powries and few goblins that remain. Certainly, it is not a supply base for any coordinated monstrous force. I see nothing to gain by attacking—the thought of reclaiming and holding the town at this point is purely foolhardy—and everything to lose. Let us not underestimate the strength of the force remaining in Caer Tinella.”

“I.think it wiser to skirt the town and flee to the southland,” Elbryan added.

“It is likely that the road south will prove open all the way to Palmaris,” Juraviel replied. “Though how long it will remain that way, I cannot say.”

“Convincing the townsfolk to abandon their homes will not be easy,” Pony explained.

“But we shall,” Elbryan assured her. He looked in the direction of Roger Lockless as he spoke, thinking that the proclamation might at last bring the lad from hiding.

“Perhaps you cared not for your own home!” the young man said, jumping up and storming across to face the ranger. “But we are loyal to Caer Tinella!”

“And so you shall return to Caer Tinella,” Elbryan said calmly. “This war will not last much longer, and as soon as the region about Palmaris is declared secure, then I expect the King to send the army north.”

“And what will they find?” Roger said, moving right up to the much larger Elbryan. “Burned-out skeletons of our homes?”

“Rebuild,” Elbryan calmly replied.

Roger scoffed at the notion.

“Our own home of Dundalis was sacked years ago,” Pony said. “Then it was rebuilt, by Belster and his companions. And now it has been sacked again.”

“And so it shall be built again,” Elbryan said resolutely. “Houses can be put back up; people are forever lost.”

“My own family was lost in such a raid,” Pony said, taking the young man gently by the elbow.

“And my own,” Elbryan added. “And all of our friends.”

Roger’s visage softened for just a moment as he regarded Pony, but then he pulled away, anger again filling his eyes. “Tell me not of your grief,” he snapped. “I know all about losing family and friends. And I am not afraid now. The dwarves are in Caer Tinella, my home, and so I shall go there and get rid of them, every one! You delayed this, but after the success of our attack, you cannot stop it. The folk will follow me, Nightbird,” he said, poking himself in the chest. “You think yourself the leader, but it was Roger Lockless, not you, who rescued the prisoners in the last raid, just as it has been Roger Lockless all along, feeding the folk, stealing right from under the big nose of stupid Kos-kosio Begulne. Me!” he yelled, poking his chest again. “And you will not steer them away from Caer Tinella. They will follow me.”

“To their doom,” the ranger said evenly. “Is this about Caer Tinella, Roger, or is it about who leads?”

Roger waved a hand at him dismissively. “We’re not done with this, Nightbird,” he said, spitting the elvish title with contempt, and he turned and walked back across the field.

Pony started to follow, her face tight with anger, but Elbryan held up his arm to stop her. “He is young and confused,” the ranger explained. “He thought he had his place carved out among the folk, and then we came along.”

“He was never formally a leader of the group,” said Juraviel. “That lies more to Tomas Gingerwart and Belster O’Comely. Roger was, rather, working outside the limits of the band. Your arrival should not have affected that role.”

“In his own mind, he was the hero of the group,” Pony reasoned.

“Heis indeed,” Elbryan corrected.

“Agreed,” said Juraviel. “But he does not understand that there is room for others.”

“Roger Lockless!” Elbryan called loudly.

Roger, at the far edge of the meadow, stopped in his tracks and turned about.

“This must be settled, here and now,” the ranger called. “For the good of all the folk.” Even as he spoke the words with determination, though, his expression revealed his trepidation. “Give Juraviel your sword,” he instructed Pony with a weary sigh.

The woman considered the request, and the look on her lover’s face. “Now is not the time,” she replied.

“It has to be,” the ranger said. “Give Juraviel your sword.” He paused and looked from Pony to the approaching Roger, trying to get an even deeper measure of Roger’s motivations. “And be gone from here,” he added to Pony. “You should not be a witness to this. For his sake.”

Pony slid her small sword from its sheath and handed it to the elf, all the while staring Elbryan in the eye. “If you hurt him …” she warned, and she turned and walked into the cover of the pines.

Elbryan was wise enough to worry when Pony left a threat unfinished.

“Be careful,” Juraviel cautioned. “There may be grim consequences if you take all of the man’s dignity.”

“I hope it does not come to that,” Elbryan said sincerely. “For I do indeed fear the consequences. But this split cannot continue between us. We cannot ask folk in so desperate a situation to make a choice between Roger and me.”

“You think Roger will listen to you?”

“I will make Roger listen to me,” Elbryan assured him.

“You walk a fine line here, Nightbird,” the elf said.

“A line that you and Tuntun showed me well,” the ranger replied.

Juraviel nodded, conceding the point. “Make him start it,” the elf advised. “If it is to happen.”

Elbryan nodded and then straightened as Roger, bold as ever, strode defiantly to stand right before him.

“I grow weary of our bickering, Roger Lockless, who claims leadership of the group,” Elbryan called. “In the last raid on Caer Tinella, we showed that we can work well together.”

“We showed that my priorities, and not your own, are for the betterment of the folk,” the young man replied.

Elbryan took the insult in stride, recognizing the frustration behind it. “We both served valuable functions in the town,” he said quietly and calmly. “You freed the prisoners, and for that, all of us, myself included, are indeed grateful. And I defeated Maiyer Dek, a blow from which our enemies will not soon recover.”

“But I could have accomplished my task all the more easily if you were not there!” the young man said accusingly. “Yet did you even ask me to go? Where my skills were the ones most needed, did the great Nightbird even inquire if I might be interested in the mission?”

“I did not even know that they held prisoners,” the ranger replied honestly. “Else my plan would have been greatly different.”

“Yourplan,” Roger spat. “Since you arrived I have heard nothing but your plans!”

“And are we not better off?”

Again Roger spat, this time on Elbryan’s feet. “I do not need you, Nightbird,” he sneered. “I wish that you and your strange little friend would just disappear into the forest.”

“But not Jilseponie,” Juraviel noted.

Roger’s face turned red. “Her, too!” he said unconvincingly.

Elbryan realized that it would be better to get off of this delicate subject. “But we are not leaving,” he said. “Not until the folk are safe in Palmaris, or until the army has marched north to reclaim the towns. I am a fact of your life, Roger Lockless. And if I am put in a position of leadership, one that I have earned through my work in the northland and through my experience, then know that I will not abandon that position for the sake of your foolish pride.”

Roger moved as if to strike out, but held his anger, though his face continued to flush.

“My responsibility is to them, not to you,” Elbryan calmly explained. “There is a place for you among this band, a very valuable place.”

“As your lackey?”

“But know this,” the ranger went on, ignoring the foolish comment, “I will argue against any fight for Caer Tinella at this time. Fleeing from the area is the proper course for the folk, and I expect and demand that you will support me in this decision.”

Roger eyed the man directly, obviously surprised that the ranger had presumed to give him a direct command.

“I will accept nothing less from you, Roger Lockless.”

“You threaten me? As did Pon … Jilseponie with her stupid curse?”

“I tell you the truth, and nothing less,” Elbryan replied. “This is too important—”

Before the ranger could finish, Roger exploded into motion, launching a punch at his jaw. Not surprised in the least, Elbryan knifed a hand up in front of his face and pushed it out slightly, just enough to deflect Roger’s blow harmlessly wide of the mark. The ranger’s open hand then shot forward, slapping Roger hard across the face, staggering him backward.

Roger drew out a dagger and started forward, but skidded to a quick stop, facing the angry glow of Tempest.

“A fight between us would be pointless,” the ranger said. “You have admitted that you have never killed, yet, regrettably, I have lived by the sword for a long, long time.” That said, Elbryan calmly sheathed Tempest.

“I can fight!” Roger yelled at him.

“I do not doubt that,” Elbryan replied. “But your real talents lay elsewhere, in scouting, in hindering our enemy with your wits.”

“Wits you apparently do not trust with any important decision!”

Elbryan shook his head. “This is battle, not thievery.”

“And I am nothing more than a common thief?”

“You act now like a spoiled child,” the ranger said. “If you attack me, and kill me, or if I kill you, then what might be the cost to those folk who look to us two to lead them?”

“I do not wish to kill you,” Roger informed him. “Only to hurt you!” And on he came, dagger extended.

Elbryan’s left hand slapped out right under the blade, catching Roger by the forearm. Before the young man could react, the ranger whipped his free hand across in front of him and brought his left, and Roger’s arm, across the other way. Roger felt a sting in his hand, and then suddenly he was free. He caught his balance immediately and tried to come up with a countering strike, but noticed he was no longer holding the dagger, that Elbryan held it in his right hand.

The ranger’s left shot out, slapping Roger three times in rapid succession. “You care to try again?” Elbryan asked, flipping the knife back to Roger’s nimble grasp.

“Dignity,” Juraviel whispered behind the ranger.

Realizing that he might be pushing this too far, that he was insulting the young man, Elbryan reached back and took Pony’s sword from Juraviel, then turned and threw it so it stuck in the ground at Roger’s feet. “If you wish to continue this, then take up a real weapon,” he said.

Roger reached for the sword, then hesitated, looking up to match the ranger’s gaze. “I can fight,” he said. “But these are your weapons, and not mine. You offer me Pony’s ordinary and small sword, while you wield the magical blade—”

Before he could finish his protest, Elbryan, in one fluid movement, drew out Tempest and stuck it in the ground next to Pony’s sword, then took the other sword in hand.

“This will be finished, here and now,” the ranger said evenly. “It should be so without a fight, but if that is what it takes…

“Pick up the weapon, Roger Lockless,” Elbryan said. “Or do not. But either way, understand that in the matter of Caer Tinella, my decision shall stand. And that decision is to bypass the town, and Landsdown, as well, and get these folk to the safety of Palmaris.”

Roger was hardly listening to anything beyond the ranger’s first sentence. This was not about Caer Tinella, it was about pride. It was about a position of leadership that Roger thought he deserved, and it was about a woman—

Roger stopped his train of thought, not willing to go there. He glanced up at Elbryan only briefly, then put his hand about the crafted hilt of Tempest, the silverel pommel wrapped in blue leather. This was about his passage to manhood, he decided, about his courage or fear, about being in control or being controlled—and not by Elbryan, but by his own cowardice.