13 Day War (27 page)

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Authors: Richard S. Tuttle

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Young Adult

BOOK: 13 Day War
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Podil raised an eyebrow and glanced at Zalaharic. “Is he talking to you?”

“He was,” Zalaharic answered sharply. “He was telling me to let him die and concentrate on the others. I put him to sleep. I do not need such a distraction.”

“They are a proud people,” Podil remarked softly as she stared at Wesik. “They are perfect companions for the Knights of Alcea.”

“I prefer patients who are not eager to die,” retorted Zalaharic.

Podil frowned. She had never heard Zalaharic complain before. She knew that the long flight from Tagaret would have taken a toll on the male elf, but she was sure that Zalaharic had spent most of his energy since arriving in the small clearing. Considering the conditions of the wounded, she realized that Zalaharic must have used tremendous amounts of energy on them. “You are tired, my friend. Catch some sleep while I am fresh. I will keep them alive and wake you when I need you.”

Zalaharic sighed and nodded. “Two hours. Nothing more.”

Podil nodded in agreement, and Zalaharic spread out on the grass. He was asleep within minutes.

* * * *

General Ritka of the 21
st
Corps of Spino stepped through the portal and into the barn outside of Gortha in the Sordoan Province of Alcea. He waited impatiently until his horse was brought through the portal for him and then he mounted the horse and rode out of the barn. Most of the 21
st
Corps had already passed through the portal and secured the farm. He rode confidently into the morning sunshine and looked around, slightly disappointed that Sordoa did not appear much different than his own country of Spino. Colonel Pierce hurried to his side as soon as the general was noticed.

“The farm is secure,” reported the colonel, “and the vanguard is already on the way to the rendezvous point. They may have already met up with General Stemple and the 29
th
Corps by this time. Shall I escort you?”

“There are ten-thousand men already showing me the way, Colonel,” scoffed General Ritka. “I think I can mange without your help. See that all of the men make it through the portal.”

The general spurred his horse to action, leaving the rebuffed colonel behind. As the general followed the column of soldiers, a warning spread through the ranks before him. The marching soldiers, fearful of arousing the general’s anger, quickly moved to the side of the road, creating a pathway through the center of the column. General Ritka smiled inwardly as he watched his army cower before him. He galloped all the way to the rendezvous point and was slightly miffed to find General Stemple waiting for him. Ritka did not care much for the Aertan general assigned to him, and he made a point of making Stemple feel inferior.

“You needn’t have hurried Stemple,” greeted General Ritka. “I would have thought it was obvious that the 21
st
Corps will take the vanguard. The 29
th
Corps will follow behind.”

“As you wish,” General Stemple replied with a shrug. “This is as fine a place as any to wait for your men to pass by. Will you be in the vanguard yourself?”

“Of course,” retorted General Ritka. “You don’t really expect these Sordoans to cause us any trouble, do you?”

“Certainly not,” General Stemple smiled thinly, hoping that a small attack would come soon and strike the vanguard. “I doubt we will run into any trouble between here and Trekum. Safe journey to you.”

General Ritka ignored Stemple’s words and continued towards the head of the column. Colonel Viya watched the Spinoan general leave and then approached his fellow countryman.

“How can you stand being under him?” asked the Aertan colonel.

“What choice do I have?” shrugged General Stemple. “He must have licked the right boots in Despair to become the leader of Team Gortha. We can only hope that he meets an untimely death soon. Perhaps his own men will accidentally slay him in the first battle.”

“I know you say that in jest,” frowned the colonel, “but the men of the 21
st
Corps have no love for General Ritka. He is a pompous fool, and every one of the Spinoans knows it.”

“It was only partly in jest, Colonel,” General Stemple said softly. “Ritka is careless, and that is dangerous for an army in enemy territory. He acts as if the Sordoans will be no challenge for his mighty army, but even a cornered squirrel can attack ferociously. His leadership will cost the lives of many men before this war is over. Our task is to make sure that our Aertans are not among the dead.”

“That could be difficult,” warned the colonel. “The men of the 21
st
Corps are frightened, General. I was talking to some of their officers when we were waiting at Camp Destiny. There are rumors spreading through the 21
st
Corps of monsters in Sordoa.”

“Monsters?” balked the general.

“Dwarves in particular,” clarified the colonel, “but other creatures as well.”

“Dwarves are extinct,” scoffed the Aertan general.

“Don’t try to tell Ritka’s men that. They are certain that we will meet up with dwarves, and they are deathly afraid of them. It has gotten so bad that the officers have threatened to whip any man who mentions dwarves, yet the rumors still spread like a wild fire. I fear if it comes to fighting, the 29
th
Corps will have to take the brunt of it. The 21
st
Corps will be worthless.”

“We only have seven days before we join forces with Team Pontek,” said General Stemple. “Then it becomes the problem of General Gattas. He is the leader of Force Sordoa, and I don’t think he cares for Ritka any more than we do. In fact,” he added with a smirk, “it might be fun to watch and see how Gattas handles Ritka. That moment might well be worth putting up with that insolent Spinoan idiot for seven days.”

Chapter 17
Lies

General Montero stepped outside the inn in Pontek. He glanced around the streets and found them deserted except for the soldiers of the 15
th
Corps of Ertak. He had not expected many citizens to be awake at such an early hour, but neither did he expect the city to be deserted. He waited outside the inn for his horse to be brought to him. As he waited, he turned and glanced back at the inn. He saw a sign hanging on the building stating that the building was for sale.

“Your horse, General,” came a voice from behind him.

General Montero turned and nodded to Colonel Patrey. “Where are all the people of Pontek, Colonel?”

“I suppose what is left of them are sleeping,” answered the colonel. “Pontek has been practically deserted for months, General. When I was here in the fall, I saw signs offering one-year contracts for tradesmen and laborers. It was quite the talk of the town then. I suppose many of the citizens of Pontek took the jobs.”

“You suppose?” pressed the general. “Are you not concerned when things turn out differently than you expected?”

”General Tauman’s reports state that the population of Pontek has diminished greatly,” replied the colonel. “I am suspecting that the cause is due to the offers of jobs. I do not know that for sure, but the low population of the city is what I expected. I imagine the few people left in Pontek will hide when they notice a foreign army in the city.”

General Montero nodded with satisfaction. He had been mentally preoccupied before the invasion with the problem of losing custody of his brother, Prince Harold of Ertak, and he had not bothered to read Tauman’s reports. If Colonel Patrey had been expecting the current situation, that was good enough for the general. General Montero mounted his horse and gazed down at the colonel.

“I do not wish to waste time in this city hunting for citizens,” ordered the general, “but you will order the men to slay any that they come across. I also want a detachment sent to the harbor. Disable any boats found there. I do not want anyone carrying word of our arrival north to Trekum.”

Colonel Patrey nodded his agreement. “There is also a fishing village just north of the city. We spoke about it last fall.”

“I remember the conversation, Colonel. Send a company forward and destroy the village.”

“Disable the boats?” asked the colonel.

“Raze the village, Colonel. Destroy everything and everyone.”

“I will see to it,” promised Colonel Patrey.

General Montero turned his horse and headed north to meet with General Gattas of the 6
th
Corps of the Empire of Barouk. Gattas was the leader of Force Sordoa and a rising figure in the Federation. Montero had specifically asked to be teamed up with Gattas because he thought the Baroukan’s influence could help if he had trouble deposing his father upon return to Ertak. Gattas was known to bend the rules when he needed to, and that was exactly what Montero planned to do. It was time for King Harowin to give up the throne of Ertak.

Colonel Patrey watched the general ride away and then quickly issued orders for the boats in the harbor to be disabled. He sought out another colonel of the 15
th
Corps and assigned him to direct the army northward. When that was done, Colonel Patrey selected a company from his own regiment to raze the fishing village. At the head of one-hundred riders, Colonel Patrey raced out of the city and north along the coast to reach the village before the fishermen put out to sea.

The sun was just breaking the horizon when Colonel Patrey and his company reached the village. He frowned when he saw that another company of Federation soldiers was already there, but he was not surprised. Colonel Wuler of the 6
th
Corps had been with Patrey in the fall, and they had both spoken of destroying the village. It irked Patrey to have been beaten to the prize by his rival.

“You’re a tad late,” grinned Colonel Wuler. “Did you think I would forget?”

Colonel Patrey glanced around the small village and frowned. All of the boats were gone, and there was not a person in sight other than Federation soldiers. He dismounted and stormed into the closest hut. No one was inside. He turned and ran outside and into another hut. With a sigh of frustration he exited the hut and stared at Colonel Wuler.

“Where are the people?”

Wuler pointed out at the sea. Patrey gazed out at the small boats bobbing on the waves, but he was staring directly into the sun. He could see the boats far off the coast, and he could make out the shapes of fishermen in the boats, but he could not see things clearly.

“The women and children, too?” he asked Colonel Wuler.

“I cannot tell, but it hardly matters now, does it? We aren’t going to wait for them to come ashore and surrender.”

“General Montero will be livid,” replied Colonel Patrey. “He fears that the fishermen will carry word of our arrival north to Trekum.”

“In those boats?” laughed Colonel Wuler. “I don’t think so. It’s over forty leagues to Trekum, and I remember what those boats looked like last fall. I would not take any one of them out of sight of land, and I mean that with only one person in it. If they do indeed have their families onboard, they will all die before this day is over.”

Colonel Patrey looked at the distant boats bobbing on the huge angry swells and nodded in agreement. Most of the boats were single-man boats and they would be sorely overloaded with entire families stuffed into them. Still, he did not wish to report a failure to General Montero. Such was not the way to move up in the ranks of the 15
th
Corps.

“Burn the buildings,” Colonel Patrey shouted to his men. “Leave no wall standing.”

Colonel Wuler smirked. “And you will hope that General Montero does not ask any questions as he passes?”

“You obviously had the same orders as me, Wuler,” retorted Colonel Patrey. “Are you so anxious to report your failure to arrive in time to kill everyone here?”

Colonel Wuler laughed. “I will only report the truth, Patrey. I will say that the village was entirely destroyed and that we did not leave a single person alive in the village.”

Colonel Patrey grinned. “I could get to like you, Wuler. You are devious.”

“I have had a great deal of practice, Patrey.”

Far off the coast, the fishermen shouted and pointed towards the burning village. Women cried and the children started asking questions that no one wanted to answer. One ancient man looked at the old woman beside him on the floor of the small boat.

“It is as the fairy predicted,” the ancient man said softly. “She saved our lives.”

“Our lives are not yet saved,” frowned the old woman. “We have no homes to return to now, and these seas still seek to claim us.”

The fisherman manning the sails looked down at the old woman with a warm smile. “Homes can be rebuilt,” he said confidently, “and the sea will claim nothing from our village. Have faith in your fellow villagers. We will return to shore after the armies have passed by.”

* * * *

Team Darcia was no longer an army on the move. Although the sun was well into the sky, General Ross and General Haggerty sat inside the large command tent sipping tea and gazing at a map of Cordonia. The tent flap opened and a black-cloak entered. General Ross immediately felt a shiver of fear, but he ignored it. He had long grown accustomed to the feeling whenever black-cloaks were around. He realized some time ago that it was a magical defense created by the mages. He waved the black-cloak forward.

“What have you discovered?” asked the leader of Force Cordonia.

“Paso and Carid are also false cities,” the black-cloak reported. “They are even less elaborate than Darcia. I believe the Alceans took extra care of Darcia because our portals were located too close not to make it believable.”

“And Kantor?” asked General Ross.

“It does not exist,” answered the mage. “I flew high over the land, and I did not see any signs of human life at all. Other than the locations of the three fake cities, there is nothing to indicate that man has ever walked these lands.”

“Yet you agree that we are in Cordonia?”

The black-cloak sighed. “The skies tell me that we are in Cordonia, but that is not possible. The terrain is the same as Cordonia, but no one can make everything just disappear. It makes no sense.”

“You haven’t really answered the question,” frowned General Haggerty. “Are we in Cordonia or not?”

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