Authors: Richard S. Tuttle
Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Young Adult
“Unfortunate?” snapped the general. “Who do you think you are to stand before a superior officer and threaten him?”
“I have issued no threats,” Alex stated quickly. “I have not come here to cause harm to anyone, but I understand King Harowin better than most men. If I return to Farmin without resolution of this problem, King Harowin will take the matter directly to Emperor Jaar. Honoring the line of succession in the member countries of the Federation is a cornerstone of the agreement.”
Deep furrows marred the general’s brow as he stared at the Ertakan colonel. “What does talking to this mage have to do with the line of succession in Ertak? You said that you returned the prince to the Royal Palace. There is no threat to the throne.”
“But there is,” countered Alex. “The man that I returned to the palace was not Prince Harold. I need to find out how this is possible and whether the black-cloaks know where the real Prince Harold is.”
The general stared dumbfounded at Alex. He suddenly tore his gaze away and looked at Colonel Pierce. “What is it, Pierce?”
“I might be able to shed some light on this,” stated the Spinoan colonel. “While we were at Camp Destiny, I spent some time with Colonel Patrey. He serves under General Montero, and he did mention to me that Montero was quite upset about losing Prince Harold.”
“Was Belasko’s name mentioned?” asked the general.
The colonel nodded. “Very strongly, General. In fact, had Colonel Belasko inadvertently gone through the wrong portal tonight, I guarantee that he would be dead by now. General Montero wants his head.”
General Ritka’s body lost the tenseness that had been evident during the verbal altercation. He sighed with relief and shook his head at Alex.
“You have made yourself a rather powerful enemy, Belasko. Montero is not the type of man to forget such transgressions easily.”
“I understand, General,” replied Alex. “I take no pleasure in hurting the Crown Prince, but I am sworn to carry out the orders of King Harowin. That is all I seek to do here tonight. May I carry out my orders?”
“Our camp layout is standard, Colonel,” answered the general with a dismissive wave. “The tent will be on your left as you leave.”
Alex saluted the general and turned to leave. Colonel Pierce also turned to escort the visitor, but the general spoke before they reached the tent flap.
“Let Belasko go on his own, Pierce,” ordered the general. “As far as we are concerned, Belasko, we never heard of you, and this meeting never took place. I will not allow Ertakan escapades to put me between a king and a Crown Prince. I want nothing to do with it. Speak to your mage and then get out of my camp.”
Alex nodded wordlessly and exited the tent. A soldier came out of the shadows and handed Kaz’s reins to Alex. The Knight of Alcea headed towards the mage tent. As he passed into an area unlit by the torches lighting the tented area, he felt a slight weight upon his shoulder.
“I have tested the tent,” Bitsy chirped softly. “I felt nothing. Fairies ARE fearless.”
Despite the tension, Alex felt himself smiling. “I had no doubts about it,” he whispered. “Now we shall discover if unicorns are as well.”
Kaz snorted derisively.
Unicorns do not delude themselves. Fear is always present, but one can learn to control it.
Alex left the unicorn’s statement unchallenged, his focus already set on the flap of the mage tent, which was fast approaching.
“Keep watch, Bitsy,” Alex whispered. “If anyone in the camp takes special notice of me, alert me immediately.”
Without a word, Bitsy leaped into the sky and disappeared. Without conscious thought, the Knight of Alcea’s steps altered slightly, his footfalls becoming silent. Kaz also changed his gait, and they approached the mage tent like a pair of wraiths in the night.
The first tingles of fear came over Alex subtly. It began as mere apprehension, which was to be expected under the circumstances. Alex would have never noticed it if he had not been specifically analyzing his feelings with each and every step. The closer he got to the tent, the stronger the feelings grew. He felt his forehead dampen with perspiration, and his feet started to grow heavy with hesitation. Inside his body, he felt a tightening, as if a rope ran vertically through him and someone was twisting each end of the rope in a different direction. His hands began to curl into fists, and his jaw tightened. His breathing changed from a slow, steady rhythm to a shallow, halting pant. Kaz must have sensed the change in his partner.
Easy, friend. Do not let them tamper with your will.
Alex nodded and halted a few paces short of the tent flap. Needing to be silent, he concentrated on his breathing, forcing himself to take long, slow breaths until he felt in control again. He could do nothing about his sweating brow and the feeling of being wound tight inside, but he uncurled his fingers and flexed them. With slow, deliberate movements, he surreptitiously unsheathed his belt knife and stepped forward to the flap. When he reached the flap, he stood motionless for a moment, his senses acute. Time moved excruciatingly slow, but the Knight of Alcea refused to hurry his mission. He needed to know where the mage sentry was standing. Eventually, an audible sniff warned him that the sentry stood directly on the other side of the flap. With a speed honed over the years, Alex threw the flap open and stabbed out with his knife at chest level.
The black-cloak uttered a sharp intake of breath, but nothing more. The aura of fear instantly dissipated, and Alex knew that the mage was dead. Alex felt the weight of the man’s body trying to drag down his arm, as his hand still clutched the knife. He stepped forward and supported the weight of the corpse, letting the tent flap close behind him. He eased the body to the ground and pulled his knife out of the mage’s heart. He wiped the blade clean and sheathed the knife. Crouched in the darkness, Alex reached inside his uniform and extracted the myric quills.
The interior of the tent was not lighted, but the glow from the outside torches was sufficient to make out the sleeping forms of the black-cloaks. As silent as a stalking cat, Alex moved around the tent, delivering a poison death to each of the mages. In seconds, it was over. The Knight of Alcea let a sigh of relief escape his lips as he gathered the used myric quills. Bitsy unexpectedly landed on his shoulder.
“A colonel has exited the large tent,” she reported. “He is not coming this way, but he is staring at this tent.”
“Colonel Pierce,” Alex said softly with a nod. “He is a curious one. He is probably wondering what I tied Kaz to. There was no post outside the tent. I think it is time to retreat.”
“We have succeeded then,” grinned the tiny woman. “I knew that you would feel no fear.”
“I felt it.” Alex frowned as he stooped and buried the used myric quills. “It was very strong. I can easily see how Wylan and Sheri could have succumbed to such a spell. We will discuss it later. Now is not the time. Fly high and keep watch over Kaz and me.”
The fairy darted into the darkness and disappeared. Alex walked to the flap and opened it. He exited the tent and turned before releasing the flap. He stood there for a moment, exaggeratedly nodding his head as if he were having a conversation with someone inside. When he finally closed the flap, he quickly mounted Kaz and turned towards the barricade. Colonel Pierce stood outside the command tent, watching the Ertakan colonel depart the camp. Alex nodded to the man, but said nothing. He continued riding calmly towards the barricade and freedom. The soldiers manning the barricade passed the colonel through without questions, and the Knight of Alcea rode southward along the Gortha-Trekum Road until the camp was out of sight. Once away from the camp, Alex halted and stared up at the lightening sky. Day six was dawning.
“Find Tedi and Natia,” Alex instructed the fairy. “I need to talk to them before we return to Tagaret.”
* * * *
General Gattas and General Montero rode together along the Coastal Highway north of Pontek in Sordoa. Both of the generals gazed at the burning village as they passed by, and neither of their faces held a smile.
“That is the fourth village with no boats,” scowled General Gattas. “Someone is warning the villagers.”
“Undoubtedly,” agreed General Montero, “but Colonel Patrey assures me that the fishermen are not sailing north. Perhaps the villagers can see the smoke from the burning villages behind us.”
General Gattas turned around and gazed southward, but he soon returned his gaze to the burning village and shook his head.
“The smoke is barely visible,” stated General Gattas. “Besides, a distant burning village would not spur these fishermen to loading their families into those leaky boats and setting out to sea. They would only do so if they were aware of the reason for the other fires. It is preposterous to think that the Sordoans know that armies are marching up the coast. Someone must be spreading the word.”
“Does it really matter?” sighed General Montero. “What if the Sordoans do know that we are coming? There is nothing that they can do about it. Look at our armies, General. We have enough might gathered around us to conquer all of Sordoa, and we are but a third of the force that will assemble before the walls of Trekum.”
General Gattas looked proudly at his armies and nodded. Six files of soldiers marched along the wide Coastal Highway, and three files of cavalry preceded and followed them. The column comprised of the 6
th
Corps and the 15
th
Corps stretched out for over two leagues. It was an awesome display of power, and General Gattas found himself agreeing with the Ertakan heir.
“I suppose there is little harm in fleeing fishermen,” mused General Gattas, “but I prefer a clean operation.”
“Perhaps we should send the forward scouts out even farther ahead,” suggested General Montero.
“That shouldn’t be necessary,” replied General Gattas as he pointed north. “Once we come into the shadow of those cliffs up ahead, there will be no more villages for many leagues, and once we are past the cliffs, the route turns inland to meet up with Team Gortha.”
General Montero gazed northward. The coastal plain gave way to steep towering cliffs that rose vertically to a height of several hundred paces. At the foot of the cliffs, the Coastal Highway continued northward on a narrow strip of land, but there was no other soil for citizens to build their homes on. The Ertak heir nodded as he realized that they were passing the last of the fishing villages.
* * * *
Southwest of the Lanoirian city of Chi, the 4
th
Corps of the Empire of Barouk marched along the banks of the Chi River. General Franz and Colonel Kerk rode side-by-side near the head of the column.
“You were right in your assessment, Kerk,” said General Franz. “It is a beautiful country, and a bountiful one. The fields we have passed in just this first day in the country already surpass what I remember of Aerta. There is food enough here to fill a lot of bellies.”
“And this continues for day after day,” Colonel Kerk said. “I have never seen such rich fields, and I have seen most of the Federation.”
“All of this will soon be part of the Federation, Colonel,” smiled the general. “It will be a glorious addition.”
Colonel Kerk’s brow creased with concentration as he tried to think of a safe way to broach the subject that he wished to speak about. With an anxious sigh, he decided to just ask plainly.
“General,” asked the colonel, “when this war is over, the Federation will need loyal people to rule over these new provinces. Has that been discussed at all in Despair?”
General Franz looked at his subordinate with a hint of surprise in his eyes. That very thought had been bouncing around the general’s mind for the last hour, but he was sure that the colonel was asking the question for reasons of his own. He was not about to encourage the young pup to vie for a position that he coveted for himself.
“I am sure that only the most senior officers would be entrusted with such provinces, Colonel, but do not despair. These new lands will open up paths of advancement that young men like yourself could only dream about a few years back. The armies of Zara will have great need for new generals as the Federation grows to encompass both continents.”
Colonel Kerk frowned deeply. He should have suspected that General Franz would want such a rich province for himself, and being the leader of Force Lanoir, he would no doubt be given preference over others. While the general was indicating that Kerk might very well end up with his own army after the war, he would rather remain a colonel in Alcea than be made a general in Zara. There was nothing in the old land that he wanted to return to. Still, there were benefits to being a general.
“My only aspiration is to remain loyal to you, General,” the colonel said with a forced smile. “Were you to become ruler over Lanoir, I would be honored to remain here with you.”
General Franz blinked with genuine surprise. He had known Colonel Kerk to be an aggressive man. In fact, it was one of the traits that Franz admired in the young officer. One had to be aggressive to obtain what he desired.
“You would turn down your own army to remain my colonel?” scoffed General Franz. “I don’t believe that for a moment, Kerk. What devious little plan are you hatching?”
Colonel Kerk reddened slightly at being so transparent. He smiled conspiratorially at the general.
“Were you to properly share in the spoils,” the colonel began, “you should be rewarded according to your station. You are the leader of Force Lanoir and as such, the victory will be yours to claim, but the reward has to be more than just being made the commanding general of Lanoir. You are already that. You should rightfully be made King of Lanoir.”
General Franz laughed. “And you wish to be my commanding general?”
“Who is better suited to serve you loyally?” grinned the colonel. “Would you accept the likes of General Somma?”
The laughter died in the general’s throat at the mention of General Somma.
“That Spinoan coward,” spat General Franz. “I curse Grand General Kyrga for saddling me with him. What did I do to deserve such a fate?”