Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) (2 page)

“Where else
would a paladin go when he dies? And from what I hear, they need all the help
up here they can get. Good thing we showed up.”

- 2 -

Dispassionate
eyes gazed on a throng of seething mortality. Lives brief as candle flames
fluttered about meaninglessly, some hurrying home, others shuffling to joyless
employment. Elves, gnomes, and even a few denarae mixed with the overwhelming
ocean of humanity, none of them aware of the death that silently observed them.

Their lives are
meaningless to their own purposes.

Nothing
prevented him from launching himself into their midst and slaughtering them,
crushing them like insects. He tensed, poised to swoop down and sunder their
fragile flesh.

No, only
those who can be useful. They must be studied. Culled.

He fought
conflicting urges warring for control of his will. He was no longer capable of
not acting, and he focused solely on delaying and limiting himself.

Need. They
are needed. They can serve
our
purpose.

Only the
useful. I must be sure.

It is
necessary.

I must remain
unobserved. Subtlety. Isolation. Stealth.

His need to act
overrode his hesitation, but his caution kept him in check.

It must be
done, but only those who can be useful.

He nodded to
himself, then slipped carefully into the teeming throng, untouched by those who
remained oblivious to his presence.

I must remain
unobserved.

It is
necessary.

- 3 -

Samah glanced
over his shoulder in fear, his breath heaving in and out in monstrous gasps of
agony. His side felt as though someone had stabbed him with a dagger and left
the blade to grind around in his ribs as he ran. His neck burned, and he could
feel a stale trickle of blood running down his chest from a gash beneath his
right ear. Samah’s legs felt like lead, and it was only the ever-present sense
of terror that kept him from falling to the ground in exhaustion.

Something was
after him, he knew.

He’d had a brief
glimpse of it for an instant, when only his instincts had saved his life. Some
nameless impulse had prompted him to pause for a moment and peek carefully into
a doorway in his home. Perhaps it was a soldier’s knack for sensing danger,
acquired only after decades of battle and knowing when enemies were nearby.
Perhaps it was something more, because whatever the thing was, it was
fast
!
Barely had his head passed the door frame when a sword came whistling down out
of the darkness and nearly decapitated him. Samah’s drawn sword had taken the
blow, but still the fast-moving blade had scored a hit on Samah’s head even as
it shattered his own weapon.

Without a second
glance or thought, he’d turned and sprinted from his house in a mad dash of
panic. In the brief instant of the attack, he’d glimpsed a shadow of his
attacker, and it was nearly enough to unhinge his sanity.

“The demons are
all supposed to be gone!” he panted in desperation as he ran.

The demon, for
it had to have been one of the immortal creatures of Hell, was the size of a
large man, and inhumanly bulky. Something like wings had bulged under a black
cloak, and a bizarre light shone from within the creature’s garment. It was a
gray
light, if such a thing existed. Samah hadn’t seen its face, but the sheer mass
and otherworldliness of it gave away its Hellish nature.

Only a demon
could look and move like that.

Samah had seen
plenty of demons during the recent war, when he’d been stationed on the Barrier
as a defender of Nocka. Since then, he’d gone back to his hometown on leave to
spend time with his family and fiancé, Kelina. They were to be married in…

A dark shape
loomed ahead of him, lit from within itself by a gray light. Samah yelped in
terror and ducked barely in time to avoid the slash of a massive sword. His
attacker shouted something in an alien language and lunged after him, but Samah
threw himself into an alley.

“Help!” he
screamed, sprinting away in terror with a new wave of fear-inspired energy.
“Somebody help me!”

He saw people
ahead of him, a small crowd gathered where the alley intersected the next major
street.

“Help me!” he
howled in terror.

Heads turned
toward him in concern, and several men made as though to get out of his way
while others looked ready to slow him and offer aid. Samah passed six men
before two managed to catch hold of him and arrest his desperate flight.

“He’s behind
me!” Samah screamed. “Help me! Stop him!”

Swords were
drawn as the men closed ranks behind him to guard him from the unknown menace,
and Samah spun about in his helpers’ hands to see, but nothing came. No hulking
shape loomed from the shadows, and after a moment the men dropped their guard.

“Are you all
right?” someone asked him.

“He’s drunk.”

“He’s cut,” a
woman’s voice said in concern.

“Take him to a
physician.”

“Or a paladin. A
Green will help him.”

“I don’t think
he’s right in the head.”

“Shush now, he’s
obviously had a fright.”

“Who’s that
now?”

Samah looked up
and saw the shape walking slowly toward him. The men around him were ignoring
it as if they couldn’t see the seven-foot creature in their midst. The gray
glimmer of light was visible through gaps in the crowd, but the being’s face
was obscured by the deep black cowl of its robes. Samah gibbered in panic as it
drew steadily closer, and still no one seemed to be aware of its presence.

He squirmed
desperately, trying to escape the bonds of his unwitting captors’ hands.

“Hold on there,
we’re trying to help.”

“I can’t hold
him!”

“Damn!”

Samah broke free
and shoved his way through the crowd. He tripped once as he pushed past the
last of the people, but was on his feet before he could register the pain from
scraping his hands on the stone street.

He ran down
another street, looking behind him every few steps in panic to see if he was
still being followed.

Why was this
happening to him? He was a good man. He led a decent life, always trying to do
the right thing. He’d have tried to be a paladin if his father hadn’t been
dead-set against the idea. Didn’t want Samah mixed up with religious types,
paladin or otherwise. Samah worked hard and was well-liked by his friends and
family. Why then was this nameless menace hounding him so?

Why?

Several minutes
later, Samah left the streets of his town and ran into the nearby woods where
he’d played as a child. There he felt he could hide away and elude his hunter.
He reached the edge of the forest and practically leapt behind a tree, then
spun to a halt and faced the town, looking for signs of his pursuer.

Nothing.

Slowly working
to steady his breathing, Samah allowed himself the first glimmer of hope that
he’d escaped. Still, no sense in taking chances. He’d hide in the woods for the
night and head back into town when he had the light of day to reveal any
lurking creatures.

Settled on a
course of action, Samah turned in search of the game trails he knew would lead
him to a safe place. A burning fire erupted in his stomach, and he looked down
to see a crystalline sword blade protruding from his belly. He jerked his head
up in surprise and saw the apparition slowly appear as its cloak parted and the
gray light spilled forth.

“Why?” Samah choked
past a gush of blood bubbling from his lips.

“Because,” said
a hollow voice, “it is necessary.”

Without the bond of a paladin, a dakkan will return to
the wild. A very few – those with the strongest of bonds – have been known to
die soon after their riders from grief alone.

- “Care and Handling of
Dakkans” (203 AM)

- 1 -

A gray pall hung
over the mountains, veiling the expansive slopes with a misty shroud as
breathtaking as it was oppressive. The light from the sun as it slowly climbed
higher into the sky was visible only through the thick rain clouds that
blanketed the horizon to the east, heavy with the threat and promise of a storm
waiting to be unleashed. Thunder rumbled in the sky and occasional flashes of
lightning were visible as they arced from cloud to cloud and swiftly drew
nearer to the mountains.

A few treetops
were visible as they broke through the concealing grasp of the gray mists, the
only visible evidence of the vast forest that blanketed most of the mountain
slopes for miles in every direction. Small birds darted through the air, intent
on their morning duties of feeding and caring for young ones left piping in the
nest. They moved quickly from tree to tree, disappearing occasionally into the
mists as they journeyed to the lush ground below in search of sustenance.

In the distance,
the mists swirled as a dark shape skimmed the treetops gliding on powerful,
leathery wings. The dim, struggling light from the sun shone briefly on blue
scales before the clouds once more choked off the radiance from the
light-giving orb.

The blue dakkan
glided lazily over the slopes of the mountains, following a silent urge within
his body as old as life and irresistible as time itself. His eyes skimmed the air
above him as well as the ground below, seeking the source of the overwhelming
hunger that had overtaken his awareness. He uttered two short, piercing cries,
announcing his presence to the one he knew was somewhere nearby, then bellowed
a long, fierce call to ward off any other males who might be scouring the area
as well.

Somewhere in the
mists below, a loud, bugling call pierced the mists, and the blue dakkan
wheeled quickly and with sudden purpose toward the sound. It had recognized the
cry of a female dakkan in heat, the source of his sudden urge and hunger.

There!
The mists parted as a large green dakkan broke through the gray shroud and
launched herself into the clear air. She turned her head briefly and called to
the blue, taunting him to keep up with her, to catch her and claim her. She was
a fair-sized dakkan, almost equal to the blue. He immediately pumped his wings
and called out again, a declaration of his strength and longing. The blue
pursued the green as she vanished into the mists, and soon he, too, was
swallowed up by a swirl of the thick, gray veil.

From his perch
atop a large boulder, Garnet jo’Garet watched the mating flight until the two
dakkans had vanished from sight. To witness the courtship of wild dakkans was a
rare privilege, and he’d remained silent and relaxed throughout the ritual. The
green female was swift, but he’d seen the power and obvious endurance of the
blue, and he was certain the ritual would end well for both dakkans. Dakkans
mated for life, so a good outcome now would bring them both fortune for
decades, perhaps centuries.

“I hope that’s a
good sign for this expedition,” he murmured to himself. “It’s certainly more
positive than that moon and this damned mist.”

Overhead, Sin
lingered in the sky, its full shape still visible through a break in the clouds
in what was called the Crow Moon. San was nowhere in sight and waning less than
half-full – even were it visible, its presence would pale in comparison with
its heavenly partner. The strong presence of Sin and the absence of San was a
dire omen to those who cared about such things – Garnet put little stock in
superstition, but even he was hard-pressed to ignore the unsettled feeling in
the pit of his stomach as he glanced at the baleful glimmer of Sin. Shoving
aside his ill ease, Garnet spared a few seconds more to look toward the sky
where the dakkans had vanished, hoping they might come back toward him in their
flight, but he quickly gave up that hope and turned his mind to the task at
hand.

“Brican, give
me a status report on Shadow Company,”
he thought, sending his mental voice
out to where he knew it would be heard.

“Red, violet,
green, and yellow all report in position, sir,”
came the reply as Garnet
heard Brican’s mental voice sound inside his head.
“Blue and orange estimate
three and two minutes respectively.”

“Relay to
Danner to get his ass moving. I want him in position by the time Marc is set
up. End,”
Garnet said.
“Relay to Marc, I want him in position before
Danner catches up and beats him. End.”

“Yes, sir.”

Brican broke off
the mental contact, leaving Garnet alone again with his thoughts. He enjoyed a
long moment of silence until Brican again contacted him.

“Blue and
Orange platoons both report in position, sir.”

“Who won?”
Garnet asked.

“Blue, by a
hair.”

Garnet smiled.
“Good.
Now, how are our guests?”

“Honestly,
they’re a handful, but they’re ready,”
Brican kythed
[3]
, losing some of the military formality in
his voice.
“I may never forgive you for making me babysit them, though.”

“It’s good
experience for you,”
Garnet said with a mental chuckle.
“You said you
were nervous about what’s going to happen when Caeesha has the twins, so I
thought you could use some parenting practice.”

“There’s a
world of difference between babysitting two kids and babysitting a dozen
full-grown human men, much less paladins,”
Brican kythed sourly in reply.
“Half
of them don’t really like me all that much, either because I’m denarae or
because you put me nominally in charge of them, take your pick.”

“Deal with
it,”
Garnet said without much sympathy. Brican had actually just hit on the
real reason Garnet had sent him with the group of paladins. He knew some of
them were prejudiced against denarae, and he was trying to break Brican of some
of his own antagonism toward humans by making him face their racism head-on.
Putting him amidst a group of humans who harbored xenophobic tendencies might
not be the best way to do so, but Garnet believed the extra exposure to humans
could only benefit the denarae officer.