Alutar: The Great Demon (23 page)

King Arik and General Gregor glanced at one another. The king sighed and nodded in recognition of the question.

“We are not withholding any information, Lord Markel,” the king stated, “but the general and I agree on several assumptions that may tend to give light to our predicament. Clint McFarren suggested either lower Targa or upper Sordoa as the location of the portal. A Federation army would want a decent road to march along, and they would not want to pass through any sizeable cities because that would alert us to their presence. They have already been in country for over a week, and yet they have not arrived here. That indicates a portal location farther away than Mya.”

“Another clue comes from the arrival of the Claws of Alutar,” interjected General Gregor. “We know the Doors that two of those demonkin used, but not the other two. As we kept all Doors closely monitored, we think the remaining two came through a portal that we did not know about. Of those two, we know that Lloyd Becker was initially discovered on the Southland-Tagaret Road. We believe that the missing portal is near Southland.”

Lord Clava did some quick mental calculations and frowned. “A march from Southland should give us ample time to get forces here,” he noted, “but you are indicating that we have little time left. Why?”

“The previous attack forces were well provisioned and on a unified schedule,” explained General Gregor. “We believe this attack force was sent in reaction to our victories here in Alcea, and we think it was done with the utmost secrecy. Even members of the palace guard in Despair were not informed of the departure. There would have been no chance for them to arrange for cached provisions. The Federation generals will advance towards Tagaret at a vigorous pace. That will lessen the need for foraging and decrease the amount of time they are exposed to discovery.”

“They could be here as early as the day after tomorrow,” declared the king. “Sooner if the portal was closer to us than we are guessing. We figured that the demonkin was probably passing Lloyd Becker’s farm when he decided to impersonate the Targan, but he could just as easily have come from the other direction. In any event, we will know the location of the Federation army soon enough.”

“General Gregor,” asked Prince Oscar, “have you received any reports out of Southland of sightings of Federation soldiers?”

“We get sightings all the time,” answered the general. “Quite a few of the enemy soldiers managed to desert during the War in Alcea. We have been arresting them all over Alcea for weeks.”

“Are their units identified in the reports?” asked Prince Oscar. “Would you know if a soldier from the A Corps was captured recently?”

The general’s eyes brightened as he understood what the prince was asking for. He turned towards Sergeant Trank and sent him off with a simple nod of his head. The sergeant quietly slipped out of the room.

“I will have an answer for you shortly,” the general said softly.

Before the sergeant could return, a fairy flew in and landed on the map of Alcea. She planted her tiny blue legs squarely on the Southland-Tagaret Road and announced, “This is the location of the enemy army. It is a very big army and it is moving faster than others that I have observed.”

Lord Markel glanced at the king and general with wonder. Their prediction had been amazingly accurate, but neither of them seemed pleased.

“The Men of Tor might not even make it in time,” the general said softly. “It will be close.”

“Unless we can slow them down,” offered Prince Oscar.

King Arik shook his head. “With Rangers, I would not hesitate,” he responded. “With Red Swords, I would invite suggestions for such an expedition, but not with the Alcean regulars.”

Lord Markel glanced around the room to see who was present. He met the king’s eyes and shook his head. “You must be careful of your words,” he quietly admonished the king. “Your speech has invigorated the men. Now is not the time to disparage them.”

“I am not disparaging them,” retorted King Arik. “I am being honest, as I promised them that I would be. The men of the Alcean regulars are fine men, and I will be proud to stand and fight among them, but I will not waste their lives by placing them at a disadvantage. The Rangers and the Red Swords are extraordinary warriors, and they are well-seasoned by battle. The regulars still need experience and training. Most of their training is well suited for manning the walls of this city, and that is where I will use them. In fact, unless I am needed here for something else, I feel a need to walk the walls and talk to the men.”

“I think that would be a good idea,” smiled the general. “We can manage for a while without you.”

When no one objected, the king exited the library and went down to the stables. There was only a small detachment of Red Swords in Tagaret, and their task was to guard the Royal Palace. When the king mounted Chaco and rode out into the city, six Red Swords immediately surrounded him. The king brought Chaco to a halt, and the Red Swords halted and looked around in confusion.

“I understand your need to protect me,” King Arik said softly to his escorts, “but I wonder if your services are needed even more by the regulars who will be manning the walls. They could certainly use any training and advice you men can share with them.”

“And you prefer today to be seen more as one of them?” asked one of the Red Swords. “We understand King Arik. We will keep watch on you from afar. As for helping the regulars, every Red Sword not currently on duty is already doing exactly that. They are our brothers, and we will do what we can to help them survive.”

“Well spoken,” smiled the king.

Chaco started moving along the street again, but the Red Swords spread apart to allow the king to ride alone. While they had promised to protect him from afar, the Red Swords still intended to protect the king as best they could. They immediately split into three groups with one group using a parallel street to get far in front of the king. Another pair of Red Swords followed at a distance with the third pair pacing the king from a block away.

The Warrior King rode slowly through the streets of Tagaret. Citizens bowed as he passed by, and soldiers saluted. There were grim smiles of determination on many of the faces, and the king nodded in appreciation. King Arik decided to start his tour at the farthest and newest wall of the city. The Defensive Wall had been built for the Battle of Tagaret against Sarac’s forces, and it had been repaired for the Zaran invasion. It was usually the loneliest of postings in Tagaret, but on this day it was teeming with people. Hundreds of soldiers and citizens were scurrying about, storing quarrels of arrows and breadbaskets along its long stretch. Thousands of ale jugs already lined the wall, and King Arik frowned at the sight of them. A nearby soldier followed his gaze and grinned up at the king.

“They are filled with water,” offered the soldier. “The Queen’s Helpers have been bringing them out since your speech this morning.”

The king smiled and dismounted. He let Chaco roam free and turned to face the young soldier. “I didn’t know that the Queen’s Helpers were still active,” the king said. “Would you give me a tour of the wall?”

“I would love to,” grinned the soldier. “Actually,” he continued as he led the king towards a flight of stairs, “the help is coming from more than just the Queen’s Helpers. It seems like every citizen is trying to find out how they can help us prepare for the coming battle. We even have volunteer fighters forming squads. They are mostly young lads and old men, but most of them seem capable of using a bow.”

The king raised an eyebrow at the soldier’s comment. King Arik was young himself, and he looked upon his escort as a mere lad. His eyes scanned the wall, and he saw children younger than he had been when the witch had come to Lorgo so many years ago. He shuddered at the thought of such children being pitted against the Federation army.

The king’s escort nodded knowingly. “We intend to keep the young ones busy fetching arrows and food,” he said softly, “but they desperately want to be part of the defense of the city. Don’t chase them away.”

King Arik stopped walking and turned to face the young soldier. “What are you called, soldier?”

“I am Barry,” offered the soldier. “I hope my words are not offensive to you, King Arik. I was only trying to explain what I could.”

“Your words are not offensive, Barry,” the king smiled broadly. “In fact, you show a keen understanding of what is going through my mind. If you don’t mind, I will ask Colonel Borowski to assign you to me for the duration of this crisis.”

“Mind?” gushed the young soldier. “I am thrilled just to be in your presence. I will protect you with my life.”

“That is not what I want you to do,” the king smiled. “I am more interested in your insight than your sword arm, but that arm will get plenty of exercise just the same. Trouble seems to make its way towards me during a battle. You take care of saving yourself, so that I still have you by my side when it is all over.”

Dawn broke over the Karaminian city of Calusa, but it was difficult to detect. A thick fog rolled off the Calusa River and blanketed the city, giving an eerie feeling to an already tense population. Word of the massacre of Colonel Atman’s force had spread through the city like a virus. The remaining soldiers of the 30
^th
Corps were nervous and edgy, but the citizens were merely cautious. As soon as Captain Borgund’s tale had spread throughout the city the previous day, citizens began heading home. By the end of that day, the streets were fairly empty. The fog-shrouded streets of the new day did little to entice the citizens out of their homes, but the soldiers and those who worked in the castle had no other choice. Those who had duty stations to report to filed out of their barracks and homes and made their way through the fog to replace those who had stood watch all night. One of those feeling his way through the fog was Corporal Smalz of the 30
^th
Corps.

Corporal Smalz was scheduled to man the lookout at the northern gates of Calusa beginning at dawn, and he was running late. Around him he could hear cries of surprise as other soldiers tripped over unseen obstacles or inadvertently collided with one another. The corporal took his time, taking each step carefully. When he eventually reached the gates and climbed the stairs to a position above the gates, the soldier in charge of the previous shift was irate.

“You were due here at dawn,” the old guard scowled. “The guards below have already been relieved. I will be reporting your late arrival.”

Corporal Smalz shrugged. “Are you sure that I am late?” he asked. “It doesn’t look like dawn to me. In fact, I think I am a bit early. Perhaps you should stick around for a while.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Smalz,” the old guard retorted irritably. “You know quite well that it is past dawn, fog or no fog.”

“Alright,” the corporal conceded. “I am sorry that I am late, but you will understand why when you try to get anywhere in this fog. My advice is to go slow or you will end up face down in the street. Give me a status report before you go.”

The old guard seemed to simmer down with the apology. He sighed wearily and nodded. “The fog came in a couple of hours ago. We can’t see anything out there, but it is quiet. We haven’t heard anything all night, so I think all is well. Still, it draws you down not being able to see. I feel so drained that I could sleep for a couple of days without waking.”

Without warning, a gentle breeze began to whip at the fog causing it to swirl and move about. The corporal pointed to it and smiled.

“Now that is a true sign of dawn,” the corporal said to the old guard. “The winds always pick up at dawn. This fog will be gone within the hour.”

As if the corporal had magically called forth the wind, the gentle breeze increased, blowing the fog away. As the two soldiers stood talking, the forest beyond the city walls began to appear. The view was patchy at first, but the fog moved off at a rapid pace and soon the Calusa-Waxhaw Road was visible for some distance. The old guard turned to leave, but Corporal Smalz’s hand reached out and grabbed his arm before he could leave.

“What is that?” asked the corporal.

The old guard turned and stared northward. He squinted as small patches of lingering fog fled across the road. As he strained his eyes to focus on the dim figure, the sunlight suddenly stabbed through the fog and illuminated the man dressed in black.

“It is a man,” offered the old guard. “And he is holding a sword up in the air.”

“And a white flag is shoved into the ground,” added the corporal, “but what is in his other hand? I can’t make it out.”

“I can’t either,” replied the old guard. “There is also some contraption alongside him. Is it a chair maybe? Do you think he plans to sit right there in the road and wait for one of us to go out and meet with him?”

The corporal did not answer immediately. He watched as the figure in black bent over and placed the object in his hand onto the wooden contraption at his feet. The man straightened up and then swung his sword at the contraption.

“It’s a catapult!” shouted the corporal. “It’s a miniature catapult!”

The corporal instinctively ducked as the object from the catapult shot over the city wall and struck an awning on a shop behind him. He rose and quickly turned to see what it was.

“It is a head,” grimaced the old guard. “It is Colonel Atman’s head.”

The corporal nodded as he watched the head roll off of the awning and drop to the ground. “You should take that to General Salaman immediately.”

“Me?” balked the old guard. “I am off duty. You take it yourself.”

“I will,” agreed the corporal, “but you will have to man my post until I return.”

The old guard started to object, but the corporal was already on his way down from the lookout post. He watched as the corporal picked the head up by its hair and started running towards the castle.

The streets of Calusa were now free of fog, but the corporal had no difficulty maneuvering the streets. In fact, everyone in his way quickly moved aside as they got a look at what the corporal was carrying. Word of Colonel Atman’s return to Calusa spread faster than the corporal could run, and the doors to the castle stood open for him to run through. When he reached the entry foyer of the castle, General Salaman and King Vlador were rushing down the stairs to meet him. They halted at the base of the stairs and the corporal halted in front of them.