The New Guard (Crossroads Book 1) (26 page)

The guard
who had left the council tent to get help returned with a healer. David thanked
the man. The healer surveyed the wounded, then saw to the guard’s injury first.
She then checked on Mel, and lastly moved to the king’s side. As she was
checking his vitals she looked up at David. With a little disdain the young
elven healer asked, “What happened here?”

David
answered matter of factly, “I hit the king after he shot my son with an
electric mace.”

The woman
nodded before she turned back to the king, “Both are merely unconscious. There
must not have been much charge in the mace, just enough to knock him out.
Depending on how long ago it happened, he may be out for a little while
longer.”

“There
probably wasn’t enough charge left because he used it to kill one of the
councilors.” When David finished he pointed out the dead body of the councilor,
which had been moved to a corner of the tent and covered. The healer didn’t
bother looking over. She continued to look over the king.

“How is
Lord Avrant?” This question came from the guard who had confronted David
earlier.

The
healer looked over briefly to the man then back down to the king. “Lord Avrant
is in a similar state. I could tell more if I could get him back to the castle
infirmary.”

David
shook his head, “No, we stay here.” He and the healer locked eyes. “Perhaps
there is something you carry that you may try first.”

The
healer nodded and pulled a pouch from out of her robes. “I have smelling salts.
They may jolt them back into wakefulness.”

David
inclined his head, “Start with my son. Avrant is more palatable in his current
state.”

David’s
comment drew some chuckles, though there were quite a few shocked intakes of
breath. The healer just looked a little more uncomfortable, but did as David
ordered. Mel began to stir seconds after the healer broke a small crystal under
his nose. David knelt down and helped his son sit up. The healer moved over to
the king and took out another crystal.

“How are
you, son?” David asked the blinking Mel.

“Sore,”
he responded in a week tone. “Ouch.”

David let
a small grin appear on his visage and patted Mel on the back. Out of the corner
of his eye he saw Avrant standing with the assistance of the healer. It took
David a moment to realize what was happening. When he did register what was going
on he started to stand. There was a blade in the king’s hand and he was holding
fairly steady, pointing it at David.

“Don’t
move,” the guard still loyal to the king moved over to Avrant as he spoke. His
blade was now drawn and also pointed at David.

“No,”
this shout came from the wounded guard who scooped up his long forgotten
weapon. He stood next to David. “They are part of the Word’s will, not Avrant.”

All of
the guards began taking sides. Swords were drawn. Within a few minutes the tent
was divided evenly. Avrant was smiling smugly, confident in the mass of
supporters.

“I
wonder,” the royal elf began, “how things are going outside this tent. Perhaps
since my work is done here I’ll go see to the status of the outside world. You
feel free to unite the former council members at your leisure, though I will
let you know they will be of little use to you even should they choose to die
with you. I’m sure more than one of them played a part in Brother Brogene’s
death and would be more than willing to take part in yours as well. However,
since they are still tied up I suppose you’ve already had that thought.”

Avrant
stepped backwards, and the guards around him began folding in ranks to cover
their king.

“Avrant,”
David shouted and took a step forward. The king’s guards stepped forward in
response. Avrant smiled and laughed as he disappeared behind his guards. Mel
stepped up beside his father, sword at the ready.

“Dad,” he
said in a hushed tone, “I think we have to let him go. We have to get back to
Way House. We have to find out about our family.”

David
looked over at his eldest son. Who he saw was not just a boy he’d raised for
nearly seventeen years; he saw a man coming into his own, one with a better
head on his shoulders right now than his father’s. David nodded and lowered his
sword.

A
commotion at the back of the fleeing king’s group caught David’s and Mel’s
attention. The guard loyal to Avrant began turning their heads. They all
suddenly stumbled toward David’s group. David motioned for his men to stand
ready, though give a little bit of way.

Shouts
came from the king’s guard as did sounds of sword on sword combat. Then came a
roar that would have startled a bear. A large staff rose high into the air and
then fell, cleaving through the group and knocking aside the right half of the
king’s guard. Those still standing tried to back up, but the staff was swinging
again. Nearly all the rest of the guards fell. Those that didn’t were met with
slight pokes of swords from behind. Too late they remembered David’s troops.
David smiled as he saw the form of Rock stride forward. Without being told,
Avrant’s guards began to drop their weapons and raise their hands in surrender.

As
David’s guards took the others in hand, the group dispersed enough for David to
see Rock, Yero, and several of his children. Rock made a path and the Beagle
walked up to David with the man’s littlest children trailing behind. David
sheathed the Sword of Truth and knelt to embrace his dirt-covered darlings.
After allowing them a moment of reunion, the Beagle softly spoke up.

“David,
Way House has been burnt to the ground. We all got out; however, First Thunder
has crossed the mortal threshold.”

David,
still holding several of the girls in his arms, looked over to the Beagle. The
angel continued, “Fleet of Foot has been wounded, though he will recover.”

Yero
stepped up and David shifted his gaze upward to the man. The captain bowed
slightly before he spoke, “General Kolk leads an offensive against the
council’s troops. When I left, the council forces were rallying around Illdwar
the Misfit.”

David
broke his embrace and stood, shock easily read on his face. “Illdwar? What is
Illdwar doing with the council forces?”

Yero
shook his head. “After the Season of a Thousand Crossings, he and his band had taken
up working with the avian and their patrolling of the Crossroads. They’ve also
helped the Eighth Kingdom with our primary mission. However, when the avian
stopped patrolling nearly a decade ago, the Misfits have been the only uniform
defense force other than the royal guards of the other kingdoms. Illdwar’s band
has done their best, though many Misfits have been lost. Few still remain.
Perhaps sensing a need here, Illdwar joined one of the councilor’s groups or
wandered in with the sell swords.”

David
rubbed his chin as he processed all this. Finally, he said, “I’m sure if we
could speak with him, Illdwar would prove an ally. I’ve never met him, but I
have fought alongside plenty of Misfits.”

Yero was
shaking his head. “With him fighting against General Kolk, nobody with a royal
sigil is going to get close to him.”

David
suddenly started to look around. Then, not seeing who he was looking for he
asked, “Did you not apprehend Avrant?”

The
Beagle replied, “He fled just as we arrived. We were going to pursue him;
however, the guards nearest pushed at us. We pushed back, feeling it better to
get in and check on you four.”

David
sighed heavily. “That man is going to be a problem. . .” He trailed off and
looked down at the Beagle. “Four? Only Mel and I are here. Deborah and Hogan
ran out when Avrant first attacked. I figured they were with you.”

The
Beagle shook its head the looked up to Yero. Yero likewise shook his head. Rock
stepped forward and spoke. “We’ve not seen any sign of them. If we missed each
other and they showed up to Way House, they would have come back here.”

“Yes,”
Yero affirmed, “Hogan would know to return here and assist you.”

David
clenched his fist and stared daggers at the exit Avrant had used to flee. “I’m
going to find her.”

“I’ll go
with you,” said Mel, who had been listening in. Nic stepped forward, too. Silas
was right behind him.

“No,”
David said forcefully. Then only slightly softer he continued, “No, you stay with
your brothers and sisters. The council tent is our only rallying point now.
Beagle, you stay with them.”

Before
David could go on Yero spoke out. “I’ll go with you. I’m a fair tracker and
know Hogan’s scent well. You and I can move fast together. The others can
secure the tent.” Yero looked around as he spoke the last part and nodded,
noting the various guards on their side.

David
sighed once more. “Very well then, let’s stop wasting time and get after them
then.”

Yero
turned, nostrils flaring, and walked out the very side of the tent Hogan had
fled through some time ago.

Deborah
was the first to wake up. She tried to move and quickly realized she was tied
to a thick beam. She was on her knees, her ankles bound to either side of the
beam. Her arms were pulled behind her and her hands were wrapped tightly with
thick cord. There was a heavy pressure on them and a hard knot pressing on the
center of her back. She tried to crane her neck around, but could not get a
view of what was behind her. Finally, she leaned forward to take the pressure
from the mass pushing on her back.

She began
to look around again, trying to further assess her situation. She could see
little in the dim light. What she could make out was a small single bed near
where she was and the outline of a table on the far side of the room. She
strained her eyes and was able to see the source of light. There was a window
mostly covered by a thick piece of cloth. There were small holes here and there
throughout it, letting in the light.

She took
a deep breath and realized how stuffy the air was. It reminded her of an attic
during the summertime. The sudden thought about the long crawl space, the musty
smell and all the various boxes hidden up there brought a pang of homesickness.
Her mind drifted from the room and she wondered what was happening back on
Earth with their now abandoned house. She felt sad, thinking about the house
being empty and never seeing it again.

Deborah
was brought back to reality as her hands began to ache from the strain she was
putting on them to lean forward. She slowly leaned back against the beam,
trying to arch her back so as not to press against the knot. However, her
muscles were weak and sore and soon she was leaning on the knot, the mass
pressing into her spine.

Time
trickled past. The light poking through the moth-eaten curtain changed marking
the sun’s progress. Deborah did her best to shift her position several times,
yet no position was tolerable for long. She was now hurting all over. Tears
welled up in her eyes, and she fought to clear them away.

“God,”
she whispered. Her voice sounded small to her and cracked with pain and unshed
tears. “God, please help me.”

The knot
behind her shifted slightly, moving off of her spine and into her back right
ribs. She then heard a groggy hollow voice.

“Who’s. .
. who’s there.”

The voice
came from behind her on the other side of the post. Before she could respond it
spoke again. “I heard you. Don’t pretend you’re not there.”

The voice
was getting stronger, and the knot in her back kept shifting. Then her brain
registered the familiarity of the voice even as he spoke up again. “What have
you done with Deborah?”

“Hogan,”
she breathed, desperation and joy mixing into her voice. “Hogan, is that you?”

“Deborah!”
Hogan exclaimed, though he still kept his voice low. “Thank God; where are
you?”

“Hogan,
please help, I’m tied to a post or something. Where are you? Can you help?
Hogan?”

She
couldn’t stop saying his name. She desperately needed him to be real. Then he
spoke again. “Deborah, I’m right here. Wait.”

Just then
the knot at her back pushed out and the pressure on her hands increased. Both
simultaneously said, “ouch.” Then they both let out a brief, bitter laugh as
they realized they were both tied up to the opposite ends of the same beam.

After a
moments silence passed, Deborah spoke up once more. “Hogan, do you know where
we are?”

“My
dear,” said a deep ominous voice seeming from in front and off to the side of
her. “You are in one of my lairs.”

Deborah
looked alarmedly in the direction she thought the voice had come from. Nothing
was there. Then she blinked, and a stout little man was squatting there. She
blinked again and the man was right in front of her. She yelped in surprise and
no small amount of fear. She tried to back away from the figure and was
rewarded with pain from the press of Hogan’s hands and the unyielding wooden
beam.

“Deborah,”
Hogan called out in desperation. “Deborah, what is going on?!”

The squat
man stood, not gaining much height. A grin spread across his face.

Deborah,
not taking her eyes off of him answered, “There is a...”

“
Demon
,” came a
warm whisper in her head. She stared at the short man and two things happened.
First, she realized that the thing in front of her was not really a man, it was
in fact a demon. Secondly, Deborah knew for certain the voice she had just
heard didn’t come from the creature before her.

Deborah
took a deep breath hoping to calm her rapidly beating heart. She began
answering Hogan once more. “There is. . . some. . .
thing
here with us.”

The demon
smiled broadly at Deborah’s stress of the word ‘thing’. When the demon spoke it
next it didn’t move its lips. “
You are such a clever girl aren’t you. So,
insightful.
” The words started just outside her head, then oozed into her
ear and rubbed against her brain.

Deborah
shivered as the words swam up her ear canals and seemed to coat the inside of
her skull. Then a small spark of light flashed behind her eye and the warm
voice sang out, chasing away some of the demon’s words. “
Call on
the One.
”

“God,”
she whispered the word as a question out loud. The demon in front of her
sneered as a warmth drove more of the demon's words out of her head.

“No, I
really don’t think calling on Him will do much good. You see, to truly have power
here, you need a name.”

Since the
demon spoke aloud, its words didn’t have the same sickening effect as before.
As Deborah was processing this thought the demon continued.

“You know
how I am delighted with the opportunity that you presented me by coming here
first on your way to the Central Kingdom. There are so many new delicious
possibilities open to me now.”

The demon
had begun to wander around the room. It walked over to the covered window and
appeared to be looking out through the frayed holes in the curtain. Without
warning it pulled the cloth away, flooding the room with light. Deborah, who
had been looking right at the window, was forced to close her eyes in order to
shield them from the sudden glare.

“I must
admit,” the demon rambled on, “I was upset when I first heard of your coming. I
have laid such plans upon this kingdom. I thought your coming would ruin them.
The righteous are in hiding, praying for intervention, or complaining about the
state of things. The simple are reveling in the sins my compatriots are plying
amongst them. My hand and my voice are upon so many here. I am the true ruler
of this kingdom, not some elf.

“This is
all I thought you would mess up. Alas, no. While you may have accelerated some plans
and destroyed others, you have provided me with so many new options. Then, of
course, you fell for the fool behind you.”

The demon
turned from the window and began to chuckle. Slowly it walked around to the
side of the pillar where Hogan was tied up. She felt him tense. Deborah closed
her eyes and could almost picture the man-like demon hunched in front of Hogan.
When the demon spoke again it was still addressing Deborah alone.

“My dear,
there are so many possibilities opening up and depending on the outcome of this
day, so much more to do.”

When
Deborah opened her eyes the demon was in front of her once more. “I knew your
namesake,” it said. “She tried to destroy many of my plans. I actually had to
hide from her.”

“
It has a
name. Names have power.
”

“Who,”
Deborah began to ask, but stopped herself remembering the voice was in her
head. She thought her question instead, “
who are you?
”

No
internal voice answered; instead the demon smiled pityingly and responded to
her verbal inquiry. “Do not tell me your father never told you of the judge of
old. She was filled with the wisdom of God, holding court in the hills. All the
while I controlled Jabin and Sisera, ruling Israel through them.”

“Then you
failed,” Deborah said. She did know who she had been named after. Her father
had insisted each of the children have a Biblical name and understand and draw
strength from that person. She continued, “The hand of God was upon Deborah and
the forces of Sisera fell.”

The demon
nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, she and her lieutenant did well with the gifts of
God. Still Jabin held out long enough for me to lay out more of my plan. With
the help of another comrade we twisted the brute Samson around for nearly all
of his life. This is what you need to understand, little girl: I cannot be
defeated. My many plans are all in motion. There one falls, but six more spring
up.”

“
Hear its
contrived plots and schemes. In its actions, find a name. Find one of its names
and in the name of the Savior rebuke the demon.
”

“Ha, ha,
ha. Look at you trying to cross wits with me. Do you think you and your darling
lieutenant can thwart me? I have directed governments on more worlds than you
have ever thought of! I masterminded subtle moves from democracy to slavery and
had multitudes begging for more. I have engineered simple assassinations and
twisted the facts so skillfully that decades later the truth could not be
found. I have maneuvered whole worlds into destroying their entire solar
system.”

“
It seeks
control. It guides; it steers events and people as a child plays with blocks.
Hear its name. Call it out.
”

The voice
inside, so warm and true, could have easily distracted her. Yet, it did just
the opposite. It sharpened her thinking. She heard the demon and the voice and
words began to stick together: control, plot, twist, scheme, contrive, direct,
mastermind, engineer, maneuver, guide, steer. The demon prattled on. Now,
however, Deborah was only hearing keywords of its monologue: finesse,
micromanage, regulate, beguile, deceive. Without knowing it, she began to
whisper the list of words over and over. The demon caught on and turned its
attention on her.

“Are you
praying?” it asked incredulously.

Deborah
stopped whispering, yet ever so softly she heard the words being whispered
behind her by Hogan. She looked up at the demon and the words coalesced in her
brain. Then she saw the words seeming to float in the air, attaching themselves
to the demon. She was not sure that what she thought she saw was actually happening,
but focused on the words nonetheless. Letters within the words started fading,
others becoming bold. There an “O”, then a “N”, followed by a “R”.

“God
cannot save you.”

The word
“false” flared brightly then disappeared.

“This
realm, like the worlds attached to it, belong to my master.”

“Fiend”
shone brightly. Then more letters stood out: L-P-T-I.

“We will
rule as we have since the breaking of creation.”

False
once more, then a “M” and an “A”.

“Your God
came as a savior to bring you false hope. In the end, when He tries to take
everything back, we will stand with an army strong enough to put out the
stars.”

Fiend
again, another “A” then “U”.

Deborah
closed her eyes. The various bolded letters were still there along with the
words false and fiend. She concentrated and realized the letters were mixed up.

“Oh, you
see the futility now. I can tell. Closing me out will not change the facts.”

Deborah
hated word scrambles. Jeremiah always wanted to play those word games with
tiles or dice. More often than not the other children would say no. Deborah
didn’t have it in her to crush anybody’s joy, so she often played with him.
When she won, which was not often, she barely did. Now, however, she knew she
was playing for higher stakes. She also knew all the letters came together to
form a winning word. She concentrated and the letters shifted and danced around
until the letters made one word followed by false and fiend.

The demon
was still going on. Deborah opened her eyes wide and saw the words burning in
the air before her. In frantic desperation she shouted the first word,
“Manipulator!”

The demon
was blown back against the wall, finally silenced. Deborah felt a smile forming
on her lips, but the demon was up and instantly in front of her. She opened her
mouth and started to say the other two words. However, the demon swiped at her.
Its fingers went into her mouth and cut her tongue. She pulled back and slammed
her head against the beam. Pain shot through her and blood pooled up in her
mouth. She spat and another name emerged “Falsifien,”

Blood
spattered on the demon’s face and it roared. Deborah was getting woozy and
having trouble focusing. Suddenly the blood on the Manipulator’s face flared
into a white hot flame. The demon raged and ripped at the fire. Then, the demon
was struggling with what looked to her like a small sparkling paper doll.

Falsifien,
truly named with two of its names, was weakened. The demon then suddenly found
itself fighting with an angel. The spiritual being had coalesced into a
maddening form. The Manipulator was trying to grasp the shimmering flat shape
with both hands intent on ripping it to shreds. However, the two-dimensional
form seemed slick and was hyper-animated. The demon’s human facade began to
glow red and black. The angel shifted rapidly and swung arms and legs this way
and that, slicing at the demon. Soulfire burned away more of the demon’s chosen
form. Then the girl spat out a mouth full of blood on the floor and spoke.