Alutar: The Great Demon (40 page)

“Inconceivable,” Lord Kommoron shook his head. “The gods are not capable of offering any protection to those seeking a way through the Forest of Death. I am sure about that. If King Arik attempts to get his army through the Forest of Death, he will merely eliminate a potential threat to us. What does all of this have to do with the Black Citadel?”

“When my man reported this news, I ordered him to carry it here,” answered Feragyna. “He was killed by an arrow while attempting to leave the Black Citadel. Attempts by others to carry the message also resulted in death. In the end, I chose to bring the news personally. As you can see, I have suffered from my devotion to your cause.”

“I thought the Black Citadel was impregnable?” frowned the lord.

“No magic or military might could enter the Black Citadel,” declared Feragyna, “but these archers made no such attempt. They managed somehow to scale the face of the mountain to a nest above the opening to the Black Citadel. I would not have thought such a feat was possible, but apparently it is. Their goal was to stop my black-cloaks from leaving, and they were fairly successful at that. I alone managed to get free of their arrows, and that feat was not without cost.”

“As I was telling Feragyna while we waited for your arrival,” Emperor Jaar interjected, “the Black Citadel no longer exists. I sent one of Feragyna’s people there to discover what was going on in Karamin. He returned with the news that the Black Citadel is buried under the mountain.”

“Such a feat would require a massive amount of magical energy,” stated Feragyna. “I cannot imagine such a force, but it is now obvious that the archers were present to make sure that all of the Black-Cloaks died in the attack. I know of no magical force in all of Zara that could accomplish such a feat.”

“And you think that this is more proof of Alceans in Zara?” asked Lord Kommoron.

Feragyna sighed. “I find it hard to fathom such power from any human mage, but the destruction of the shipyards in Giza was the result of great power. Perhaps if there were several dozen such mages from Alcea…” Feragyna shook his head as if such a thought was unbelievable. “I do not have an answer to your question, Lord Kommoron.”

“The Alceans are here in Zara,” stated Grand General Kyrga. “We have had messages from both Karamin and Vinafor. Both of them have withdrawn from the Federation. King Boric now rules Karamin, and Queen Romani has returned to the throne in Vinafor.”

“What?” shouted the noble.

“We received birds from both Calusa and Waxhaw,” corroborated the emperor. “In addition to declaring their independence, they also spoke of King Arik’s victories in Alcea. Worse, the messages indicated that duplicate messages were being sent to every nation of the Federation.”

“Our allies will now know of our weakness,” declared Grand General Kyrga.

“It is time for the next step in your plan,” Emperor Jaar said to Lord Kommoron.

The noble’s head snapped up and he stared at the emperor for a moment. He glanced at the other two men in the room, and shook his head.

“Feragyna,” asked the noble, “don’t your people have any healing skills?”

“They do,” answered the mage, “but I felt it important to carry this news first. I will have my arm tended to after this meeting.”

“Do it now,” ordered Lord Kommoron. “I may have need of you later, and I want you in good health.”

Feragyna frowned, but he nodded. He knew a dismissal when he heard one, and that made him curious about what it was that he was not supposed to know. The occupants of the room remained silent until the mage had left the room.

“My plans are not to be discussed in public,” snapped the noble. “Why did Feragyna not heal himself?”

“He is incapable of it,” shrugged the emperor. “While his power is impressive, he has devoted all of his learning to other areas. Healing was never one of his paths. As to speaking about your plans, Feragyna must already be aware of them. The Badgers did, after all, house the captives in the Black Citadel.”

“Are you sure of this?” the lord asked with surprise.

“I am sure,” the emperor frowned, wondering if he had just shared information that he should not have shared.

Emperor Jaar saw Grand General Kyrga staring at him with an expression of confusion. The emperor wondered what he had said that would cause such a look. It was not so much that the captives had been held in the Black Citadel, he reasoned. It was that the emperor had used the word captives without emotion. It suddenly occurred to him that Kyrga did not know that the real emperor was dead. Lord Kommoron must not have shared that information with the Grand General. In fact, Zycara was willing to bet that Lord Kommoron had not shared it with anyone. If that were the case, it opened up all sorts of possibilities for Zycara. Perhaps it was time for Lord Kommoron to be discovered.

“Why not let it slip out that my wife and daughters have been found dead?” suggested Emperor Jaar. “I am sure that the Grand General knows of ways to let such information slip from his grasp.”

Lord Kommoron shook his head, as if coming out of some deep thought. He looked quizzically at the emperor and nodded. “That can’t hurt at this stage of the game. Go and see to that, Kyrga.”

Dismissed from the conversation, the Grand General left the room. As soon as he was gone, Lord Kommoron turned on the emperor.

“Why was I not informed about the involvement of the Black Citadel?” he asked.

“They were hardly involved,” answered the mage. “The Badgers needed a secure location where they could hide the women. There was no greater security than that afforded by the Black Citadel. That is all there was to it.”

“That is all?” retorted the noble. “That allowed hundreds of people to know what I was doing.”

“Not true,” answered the emperor. “While some might have known that the emperor’s family was there, they had no idea that you were involved. Feragyna kept such information to himself. The only way that I was able to piece it together is that you needed my services here. Otherwise I would still be in the dark.”

“Or dead,” the noble pointed out. “The attack on the Black Citadel has silenced a great number of mouths. Why are you anxious to announce the death of your kin?”

“To bring the heir out of hiding,” answered Emperor Jaar. “Whoever holds the women now, they are not anxious for anyone to know that they are still alive. That allows us to declare them dead. I feel confident that such news will bring the heir to my chambers. When he arrives, you will have the throne that you covet.”

“Alcea has still not been conquered,” frowned Lord Kommoron. “Worse, the Federation is falling apart. This is not how it was supposed to be.”

“Two backwater countries on the other side of the Barrier is not something to get upset about,” replied the emperor. “We can reclaim them easily enough. General Tauman is already on his way to Waxhaw. Things might be set right within a few weeks.”

* * * *

The four demons stood around the blood-stained altar in the Forest of Death. Behind the altar, the lake of lava bubbled and simmered.

“One of us must go to Alcea,” declared D’Wycaram “Alutar demands the tears of millions. We cannot achieve that goal without bringing misery to Alcea.”

“That has already been tried,” scoffed D’Cavan. “A quarter million soldiers failed to produce those tears. The gods favor the Warrior King. To go to Alcea is to invite their involvement in this struggle. I do not think it is wise to awaken them.”

“What choice is there?” asked D’Lycind. “Alutar’s wishes are clear.”

“Twenty thousand soldiers are not going to crush Alcea,” declared D’Artim. “King Arik has managed to repel the four Claws of Alutar. A puny army is not going to fare better than them. Oh, they may sack Tagaret, but unless they kill the boy king, nothing extraordinary is going come of it. We need to find another way to produce those tears.”

“We could turn the Federation armies against their own people,” suggested D’Cavan. “Lord Kommoron has already positioned armies in the major cities. Why not use them?”

“That would help,” agreed D’Artim, “but that is not Lord Kommoron’s intent. He is staging those armies to quell dissent when he takes over the Federation.”

“Lord Kommoron’s desires are of no concern to us,” argued D’Wycaram. “We do not serve him. He can easily be disposed of.”

“True,” mused D’Artim, “but as I just said, we need more than that.”

“You have an idea,” stated D’Cavan. “I can see it in your eyes.”

D’Artim smiled mischievously. “The death of the boy king would bring tears to millions,” he offered.

“Then helping the Federation army in Alcea is the proper path,” D’Wycaram said with a hint of validation in his voice.

“No,” retorted D’Artim. “We have been through this. You may go to Alcea and warn the Federation army that their arrival is expected, but nothing more. I will not arouse the gods when we are so close to our goal, and entering Tagaret to kill Arik would certainly arouse them. The gods have made their presence known in that city. King Arik will die here in Zara where his gods are not worshipped. Go to Alcea, D’Wycaram. Tell the generals that Tagaret awaits them. Nothing more.”

“And the other means we discussed?” asked D’Cavan. “What about those?”

“We shall discuss those further while D’Wycaram is on his mission,” D’Artim said.

* * * *

Two swords swung towards Garth. One came in high towards his head while the other came in low towards his knees. The Knight of Alcea jumped backwards, his spine slamming against the wall of the room. The jump had not been as far as Garth had hoped, but it proved to be far enough for the low sword to miss. Fortunately, he had raised his own sword to parry the higher sword. He pushed hard against that opponent and used his body to knock the other swordsman to the floor. He continued to push his standing opponent backwards as his foot kicked the sword away from the fallen man. The man he was pushing tripped over a chair and crashed to the floor. Garth moved in for the kill.

“Enough,” cried Prince Harold. “You are impossible to beat.”

“I agree,” offered Prince Samuel as he rose from the floor. “You are like an unbeatable demon spirit.”

Garth chuckled. “There is no demon within me, but I agree that a rest is in order. Sparring in a room does not leave much room to maneuver, and we can not continue to smash into walls without wearing out our welcome. The Bluff House Inn does not cater to caravan warriors, and I doubt they would stand for more than one complaint from our neighbors.”

The princes picked up their wooden swords and placed them on the table. Both of them collapsed on the couch. Garth stared at them for a moment and smiled.

“You should not feel bad about your performance against me,” he said. “I have lived most of my life with a sword in my hand. One can not help but become proficient with its use after so many years. Both of you are doing remarkably well for the amount of practice we have had. If you continue practicing, you will both be fairly good fighters.”

“I have no desire to be a fighter,” replied Prince Harold. “If I ever do become king, I will spend my time doing more important things than fighting.”

“I hope so,” frowned Garth, “but there are times when fighting is the only option. You should become proficient with your weapons so that your soldiers respect you. What do you mean if you ever become king? You are the only heir left for King Harowin.”

“Do you know that for sure?” asked Prince Harold. “You know that Samuel is the heir of Spino, but I have heard no mention of my name and Ertak being tied together. My father might have specifically removed me from the line of succession.”

Garth frowned. There was truth in the prince’s words. The Alceans had taken for granted that they knew the line of succession for Ertak, but the truth could be different from what they thought. Garth made a mental note to have Zack Nolan discover what he could.

Prince Harold rose from the couch and walked to the window. He stared out at the sea in silence for a while until a knock sounded on the door. Garth grabbed two hooded cloaks from the table and tossed them to the princes as he drew his sword and moved towards the door. He stopped at the door and turned to make sure that the princes were unidentifiable before cracking the door open to see who was knocking. When he saw Natia’s face, he opened the door wide to admit her. As soon as she was in the room, Garth closed the door and followed Natia away from the door.

“Word has arrived today about the losses in Alcea and the liberation of Karamin and Ertak,” Natia announced.

“How did you find out?” asked Garth.

“I ran into an old friend,” smiled Natia. “The officer at the elven reeducation camp recognized me on the street. We stopped and chatted for a while.”

“Liberation?” asked Prince Samuel.

“Karamin and Vinafor have withdrawn from the Federation,” answered Garth. “The destruction of the Federation has begun.”

“Is this the doing of the Alceans?” asked Prince Harold.

“We have helped both countries,” replied Garth, “but it is the Karaminians and Vinaforans who are to be congratulated. King Boric now rules Karamin, and Queen Romani has taken back her throne in Vinafor.”

“I have never heard of Boric,” stated Price Samuel. “Is he Alcean?”

“No,” answered Garth. “He is the cousin of King Vlador. He organized the patriots of Karamin and has been harassing the Federation soldiers for almost a year now.”

“Garth,” Natia interrupted, “you are missing the question both princes are not asking. They want to know whether Alcea is installing these monarchs as puppets.”

The faces of both princes reddened, and Garth frowned.

“Of course not,” Garth replied with annoyance. “Have you two not been listening all winter? Alcea desires no claim on the lands of Zara. What we want are peaceful countries that will not try to invade Alcea a generation from now.”

“Don’t get angry with them, Garth,” soothed Natia. “They have never known a country where there were no ulterior motives. The concept is new to them.”

“I apologize,” offered Prince Samuel, “but there is truth in what Natia says. I have been used all of my life, and I guess I now tend to see self-centered motives even when they do not exist.”