Alutar: The Great Demon (5 page)

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Authors: Richard S. Tuttle

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

BOOK: Alutar: The Great Demon
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“Perhaps the request could be presented to your superior?” Zack asked. “Who are you? Who do you report to?”

“That is not how this game works, Lord Zachary. I am called Wain, and I am the leader of the Badgers in all of Spino. There is no higher authority that you can appeal to. If the terms of the contract are not acceptable to you then our business is concluded.”

Wain rose to leave, but Zack waved him back to the couch.

“The contract is acceptable,” Lord Zachary said quickly, “but I want to make it clear that time is of the essence. Let me propose a schedule of bonuses should you complete the task earlier than expected. King Harowin must die within the next two weeks, but it is preferable for him to die sooner. What I am proposing is a bonus for each day earlier than the expected time of death.”

Wain sat silently for a moment letting the client’s words sink in. While he was loath to accept any type of a schedule, two weeks did not seem to be out of the question. As he was about to ask for clarification, the Vinaforan spoke.

“I am proposing a bonus of one-hundred-thousand per day for completion of the contract in under two weeks.” Zachary saw the assassin’s eyes grow large, and he smiled inwardly. “There will be a cap on the bonuses of one-million. This way there will be no demand for haste, but a quick conclusion to this contract will be very profitable to your organization.”

Wain smiled broadly as he rose. “You have a reputation for being able to get what you want. Now I can see that that reputation is well deserved. Make sure that the deposit is left in this room when you leave tomorrow. Good night, Lord Zachary.”

Chapter 3
Opening Salvo

The army convoy on the Calusa-Waxhaw Road was only fourteen wagons long, but three full companies of Federation troops escorted it. They rode steadily towards Calusa, confident that their strength would deter any bandits hidden in the forest. They did not even bother with outriders, and they camped at night in the very center of the road. Unknown to the convoy, they were being watched from the ridge to their east.

“There is the target,” declared Colonel Mitar Vidson of the Alcean Rangers. “It is perfect for the opening salvo of this war.”

“The convoy?” gasped Boric. “There are three hundred soldiers guarding it. We can’t afford to be wasting our men that way. We have precious few fighters to begin with.”

“Your people will not be attacking it,” stated the Ranger. “I want you to send all of your people into Calusa. You alone will stay with us tonight.”

“I don’t understand,” frowned Boric. “I am grateful that King Arik sent the Rangers to help us, but you will not be much help if all of your men are dead or wounded. If you attack their camp tonight, you are bound to lose a lot of men. Whatever is in the wagons is not worth such losses.”

“It is probably all food,” mused Mitar. “It will come in handy when King Vlador falls, but that is not why we are going to attack the convoy. We will be attacking it to kill three companies of Federation soldiers, and we will not be attacking their camp at night. We will attack them two hours from now while they are still on the road. They will be weary from a long day’s ride, and their thoughts will be centered on their empty stomachs. You have two hours to get your people out of the hideout. I suggest you get to it. Once you have given the orders, meet me in the forest about two hours south of here.”

“Just Yortana and me?”

“Just you,” Mitar said. “Send Yortana with the rest of your people. There are to be no women anywhere around the hideout or the ambush site.”

“Why?”

“Because we plan to take a prisoner,” smiled Mitar Vidson, “and I don’t want him to know anything about the Rhodans. Go now. I will explain it all later.”

The two men slithered back from the ridge to where their mounts waited. Boric mounted his horse and set off for the hideout. Colonel Vidson watched him ride away before mounting his unicorn and taking to the air. He instructed the unicorn to fly well away from the road before turning to parallel it. Within minutes the unicorn set down in the Rangers’ camp. Mitar explained his plan to the rest of the Rangers. Little needed to be explained as the plan was similar to one they had used numerous times in Alcea. Half of the Rangers crossed the Calusa-Waxhaw Road and settled in to wait for the convoy on the western ridge. Mitar’s half spread out along the eastern ridge. Boric arrived a full ten minutes before the convoy came into sight. He was puzzled that the Rangers’ mounts were nowhere in sight, but he settled down next to Mitar and remained silent, waiting to see what would happen.

The convoy came around a distant bend in the road, and Boric’s heart skipped a beat. He watched as the convoy approached, and when they got closer, he felt very exposed. He was not exposed, of course, but he felt that way nevertheless. Only he and Mitar were in a position to watch the convoy, but they were well concealed. As the convoy passed below him, he glanced around at the Rangers and saw no change in their disposition. Each of the black-clad men rested just below the crest of the ridge.

Unexpectedly, Mitar snapped his fingers. It was a faint sound even close to the Ranger leader, but it was picked up and relayed in both directions. Boric watched as all of the Rangers rose to the crest and silently got into position. Boric stared down at the center of the convoy not fifty paces away. He trembled with the fear of discovery, but the Federation soldiers saw nothing to alarm them. When the attack came, it was anticlimactic.

The first arrow to fly came well to the north of Boric’s position. He learned later that the arrow was shot after the rear of the column had passed a certain position, and it was the signal for everyone to fire. And fire they did. One thousand arrows streamed into the convoy, and all of the Federation soldiers dropped together. The only movement on the road was from the startled horses, and Rangers flowed onto the road from both ends to contain the horses and secure the wagons.

“That was the most amazing thing I have ever seen,” commented Boric as everyone on the ridge rose and scampered onto the road. “They never had a chance.”

“They should have been more alert,” shrugged Mitar Vidson. “They were not guarding that convoy. They were merely riding alongside it.”

“I suppose,” Boric replied merely to say something. As he followed Mitar towards the tail end of the dead convoy, the Ranger’s previous words came to mind. “I thought you said that there would be a prisoner?”

“There is one,” replied the Ranger. “The opening shot was meant to wound the last man in the column. We are going to him now. Do not speak in his presence. Let my voice be the one he hears.”

Boric nodded silently and followed the Ranger. When they reached the end of the column, a group of Rangers stood around a Federation soldier who was writhing in pain on the road, both ends of an arrow sticking out of his arm.

“What have we here?” Mitar asked in a voice that sounded more like an animal growl than a human’s voice. “Finish him off.”

“Why?” balked one of the Rangers. “He screams like a child. We could have some sport with him tomorrow.”

“Like finding out who can get the longest scream out of him,” another Ranger offered with a malicious grin. “Let us play with him tomorrow.”

Mitar stood staring at the wounded man as if carefully contemplating his next words. “All right,” he conceded, “but if he screams through the night, one of you will be screaming right alongside him tomorrow. Get this section of the road cleaned up and get back to the hideout. I don’t want anyone to know that this convoy ever existed.”

The Federation soldier gasped with fear as he listened to the rebels talking about him. When the leader left, the men around him pulled him to his feet. A searing pain shot through his arm, and he gasped in pain.

“Get that arrow out of him and bandage his arm,” scowled one of the rebels. “I don’t want him dying of blood loss during the night or he will spoil our fun tomorrow.”

Two rebels approached him and held him tight while another snipped off the end of the arrow. The soldier nearly passed out when the arrow was pulled from his arm. His head swam in delirium as a bandage was wrapped around his arm. He was then tossed over the back of a horse and strapped down. He was not sure how long he rode, but he was aware of the setting sun behind the column of riders. Just before it got dark, the column entered a ravine. At the end of the ravine they entered a huge cave. Someone unstrapped him from the horse and carried him to a spot near a wall. He was dumped on the ground, and his hands and feet were hastily tied. No one offered him food or water, but neither was he molested. The rebels were obviously in a familiar place as they stripped off their weapons and began passing around the ale.

The soldier spent the evening listening to the rowdy rebels as they celebrated their victory. One by one, the rebels went to sleep or passed out from their consumption of ale. The cave grew eerily quiet, and the soldier was able to hear two men talking. They sounded quite distant, but their voices carried well in the cave. The soldier listened intently.

“All we have to do is mass at the gates of the city,” the deeper voice said. “We allow nothing in and nothing out. The city will starve to death. All we have to do is wait.”

“What about the citizens inside the walls?” asked the higher voice. “Won’t they starve to death as well?”

“Sure,” replied the deeper voice, “but what do we care. It is not as if anyone in Calusa cares about us. Let King Vlador rule his dying city. We will rule the rest of Karamin.”

“But he might send the army out after us.”

“That will never happen. The soldiers only feel safe behind their wall. They will not venture outside the city. Trust me.”

“There is enough food in this latest convoy to last us for months. I am beginning to see the wisdom of your plan. We will starve the city to death. They won’t even be able to forage in the forests near the city.”

“Or get food from the nearby farms. The will be isolated from the world.”

The two voices faded, and the cave became silent. The soldier immediately attacked the ropes tying his hands together. He tried to ignore the stabbing pain in his arm as his teeth pulled on the rope to loosen the knot. It took him the better part of an hour to get his hands free, but he swiftly untied his legs and looked around the cave. Not a single rebel was stirring. The soldier stealthily made his way to the mouth of the cave, expecting to find sentries standing guard. There were none. He exited the cave and stole through the canyon. Once clear of the canyon, the soldier ran westward through the forest. Several hours later, he stumbled onto the Calusa-Waxhaw Road and headed south to warn the troops in Calusa about the pending attack.

Well above the soldier’s head, fluttering quietly in the night sky, a tiny fairy darted southward at great speed. The little green man located a hidden pack and levitated it onto the roadway before turning and darting eastward. Moments later, Nugget soared into the cave of the hideout and lighted on Mitar’s shoulder.

“The prisoner is on his way south,” reported the fairy. “I left the pack in the road as you commanded.”

“Well done, Nugget,” smiled the leader of the Alcean Rangers. “Now all we have to do is hope that General Salaman reacts as any normal officer would.”

“How does this help us defeat the army in Calusa?” asked Boric. “What do you expect the Federation general to do?”

“Knowing the exact location of your hideout, the general would be negligent if he did not immediately send a large contingent of soldiers to wipe out your rebels.”

“You think the prisoner will remember his way back here?” asked Boric.

“He arranged a series of rocks on the side of the road where he exited the forest,” offered Nugget. “I think he will find his way back here.”

Mitar smiled knowingly. “Do not underestimate your enemy, Boric. We may have taken that convoy by surprise, but the Federation soldiers are not stupid. It might take him four days to walk to Calusa, but there will be a promotion in store for that prisoner when he reaches the city.”

“Then I should recall my people and prepare to defend the hideout?” asked Boric.

“No,” answered Mitar. “Get your people into Calusa and prepare to retake your country. The Alcean Rangers will handle whatever force is sent out here to crush you. Max Caber will know what we are up to. Coordinate with him.”

* * * *

Peanut soared through the night sky over a desolate Cordonia. The haze of a thousand dying campfires hung in the air, a beacon of the encampment of Team Darcia. The fairy slowed as the massive campsite came into view. He had no difficulty recognizing the large command tent of General Ross, but the fairy wanted more of the camp to be sleeping before he delivered the message. He found a tree branch near the large tent and settled onto it. Several hours later, the camp was mostly asleep. Peanut launched off the tree branch and soared into the large command tent. He hovered near the ceiling by the entrance until he was able to verify that no one was awake. Satisfied that he would not be detected, the fairy flew over the sleeping body of General Ross. Peanut unstrapped the large cylindrical container from his body and grasped it with both hands.

The fairy slowly lowered the container towards one of the general’s hands. As instructed, he moved the container along the inside of one of the general’s fingers until the man’s hand closed in a fist around the container. Peanut let go of the container and shot upward as the general began fidgeting. As if some sense had warned the general of an intrusion into his tent, Ross quickly sat up and looked around the tent. Seeing no one, the general’s eyes fell to the small cylinder grasped in his fist. He had seen such cylinders before, but Team Darcia carried no pigeons. He frowned in confusion as he rose from his bed and lit a lantern. The general removed the note from the container and read it and then read it again. He scratched his head in bewilderment. As Peanut watched from the dark recesses of the tent, the general walked to the flap and spoke softly to one of the guards before returning to the table in the center of the tent. Moments later, four soldiers silently entered the tent and gathered across the table from the general. General Ross spoke softly to the men.

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