Heirs of the Enemy (45 page)

“Done,” agreed the king. “What else?”

“The main thing we have to do is heal Prince Harold. Once he is healed, he can be introduced to your court as someone else. I doubt that many people are familiar with his looks. He had been held in a castle under guard for years and his appearance can only change with the healing.”

“Will the prince go along with this?”

“I am not sure,” admitted Garth. “I think if he remains hopeful of a recovery, he will see this as an opportunity.”

“And if it is impossible to heal him?” asked the baron.

“I told him that he would be allowed to go free to live his life in peace. That is what he wants.”

“I will honor your promise,” vowed the king. “Now it is time for you to prove your words about portals. Show Sigfrid how they work.”

“I will do better than that,” smiled Garth. “How would you like to meet the King of Alcea?”

The king’s mouth hung open as he nodded his head. Garth continued to smile as he turned towards Sidney.

“I do not see any reason why you all cannot come, but you will need to leave Pixy here. Bitsy has been maintaining her sleep spell for a long time. I want her to rest.”

Sidney nodded, woke Pixy, and gave her instructions. Garth led everyone into the office and unlocked the closet Door. He stepped through the Door first and sent a runner to fetch King Drakarik of Tarashin. The others stepped through the Door into the home of the dwarves and looked around in wonder.

“Where are we?” asked Queen Romani.

“Deep under the Barrier,” answered the dwarven king as he strode briskly into the chamber. “Welcome to Tarashin.”

“Amazing,” remarked Sigfrid. “Simply amazing.”

“It is like moving from one room to another,” remarked King Wendal. “Where do all of these other doors go?”

“One goes to the elves,” answered Garth. “Three of them go to the countries west of the Barrier, and one goes to Alcea. Would you care to join us, King Drakarik? We are going to meet King Arik.”

“I would.” The dwarven king’s eyes grew wide as he nodded vigorously.

Garth locked the Door to Herinak and unlocked the one to Tagaret. Again he stepped through first and sent a runner to get King Arik. After everyone had passed through the portal, Garth locked the Door. Minutes passed by while the Zarans marveled at the magical portals. Eventually a Red Sword arrived and escorted the group to the Council Chamber. King Arik and Queen Tanya were already present. Garth introduced everyone, and they all exchanged greetings and then sat down around the table. Garth explained what he was planning. King Arik nodded through most of the talk and smiled when Garth was done.

“I like the plan,” declared King Arik. “In fact, I would not object to hosting the princes here in Alcea.”

“I thought about that,” admitted Garth, “but I think Herinak is more appropriate. Prince Harold for example has never heard of Alcea. I think the shock of learning about it and the portals would be asking too much of him. Besides, it is of the most benefit to improve relations between the countries of Zara. Herinak is the right place for them to be, but security frightens me.”

“As it should,” stated Queen Tanya. “The Federation has spies everywhere. Even Tagaret is not free of them. Can you control the situation there, King Wendal?”

“We will try our best,” promised the Koroccan king. “I have to say that we Koroccans are typically a suspicious lot, and we have had some misgivings about what Garth has told us.” The king paused to glance at his son. “This trip has proved to me much more than the fact that portals work. Meeting both of you has shown me the character of Alceans. I will never doubt you again, Garth Shado.”

Garth smiled and nodded his appreciation. “We should arrange periodic meetings like this in the future, but we still have a sleeping prince back in Herinak. Unless there is anything else…”

“Where is Kalina?” asked Sigfrid.

“She is up north,” answered Queen Tanya. “She is working on a special project to prepare for the spring invasion. Why do you ask?”

“I am impressed with her skills,” answered the Koroccan mage. “I know some healing spells, but I got a good look at Prince Harold when we came through the portals. He has some kind of wasting disease. I have never seen anything like it, and I doubt my ability to cure it. I was hoping that she might help.”

Tanya was tempted to return to Herinak with the group, but she knew that Arik would reject it, and rightly so. There was far too much to do to prepare for the war, and she could not leave Arik without magical protections. Suddenly, she smiled broadly.

“Do elves offend you, Sigfrid?”

“I am not easily offended,” smiled the sorcerer. “Why do you ask?”

“I know an elf mage that might be able to help,” replied Queen Tanya. “Zalaharic is the best healing mage that I have ever known. I think even Kalina would bow to his expertise, and I think I can entice him to go to Herinak and help you. Would that be acceptable?”

“Anyone who can heal Prince Harold would be acceptable,” answered Sigfrid. “I look forward to meeting this elf.”

“He will need a few days to get there,” stated King Arik. “Although it was not unexpected, we are experiencing an early winter, and it has been rather brutal so far.”

“Not unexpected?” echoed Baron Stikman. “What do you mean? This is the earliest winter we have on record.”

King Arik looked to Garth for advice on how to proceed. Garth sighed heavily as he realized that he was about to strain his credibility once more.

“King Arik personally asked the gods to intervene to stall the invasion,” Garth said. “The early winter is their solution, and it appears to be working.”

Baron Stikman rose out of his seat, his face full of anger. King Wendal quickly reached out and touched his son.

“Sit,” King Wendal commanded.

The baron sat back down, but his face still showed his disbelief.

“Forgive my son,” King Wendal said softly. “As I said, we are a culturally suspicious people. While I have to admit that I find it hard to believe that anyone can talk to the gods and gain their favor, you Alceans have been proven truthful time and again. We will accept your words in the spirit in which they were given.”

“I do not blame you for your disbelief,” King Arik said. “I could not believe that I was actually talking to the gods the first time it happened, but I have come to accept it. If the baron feels more comfortable not believing, I will understand and not hold it against him.”

While King Arik was speaking, Garth rose and moved towards the door and cracked it open. He whispered something to the Red Sword standing guard outside the door and then returned to his seat.

“I appreciate your understanding, King Arik,” smiled King Wendal. “I do hope that we can meet again for a longer period of time. I would like to take this opportunity to invite you to Herinak Castle whenever you would like to visit.”

“And I offer each of you an open invitation to visit Tagaret,” smiled King Arik as he rose. “Garth will escort you back to the Door.”

Everyone rose and filed out the door. Garth led the way back to the hidden area where the Door was located. As he was unlocking the Door to Tarashin, a Red Sword came running into the room. He handed a wrapped package to Garth, and the Knight of Alcea nodded his thanks. The group passed through the Door to Tarashin and bade farewell to the dwarven king. The rest of the group continued back to Herinak. After Garth locked the Door, the group reassembled in Sidney’s sitting room. Garth slid the wrapped package towards Baron Stikman.

“This is something else that I ask you to keep secret,” smiled Garth. “It is the Chronicles of the Sword of Heavens. It is a work commissioned by Prince Oscar, King Arik’s father, and it tells the tale of how King Arik rose from a poor fisherboy to become king of all of Alcea. I have read this book, and I will verify that the tale is true. I know because I was with King Arik every step of the way. My real name is Alexander Tork. I urge you to read that book. It will reveal the true nature of Alcea.”

Clint and Morro rode warily through the winding canyon at the base of the Barrier. The sting of the cold wind that persisted on the plain east of the Barrier did not penetrate the steep walls of the canyon, and as the sun rose higher in the sky, the air at the bottom of the canyon began to feel warm and comfortable. Clint was about to call for a meal break when he rounded a sharp bend in the canyon and saw the trail leading up the side of the mountain. He stopped and held his hand up to tell Morro to halt. Morro halted alongside the Federation general, and they both stared at the zigzagging trail before them.

“So they are not hidden within this canyon after all,” Morro said softly.

“Evidently not,” replied Clint. “I am not surprised. If I wanted a place where no one would bother me, I would not choose a canyon that anyone can ride into, even if it did resemble a maze.”

“Do we go up?” asked the elven thief.

Clint craned his neck to peer up at the path. It rose as far as he could see, and still there was no sign of a building above him. He tried to picture a nest of black-cloaks and badgers in a secret mountainous hideout, and he frowned with concern.

“They must have people watching the trail,” Clint mused. “I certainly would if I were them.”

“So we just turn around and leave?” frowned Morro.

“I didn’t say that,” retorted Clint. “I am still looking for the best approach. If I had a team of Rangers with me, I would avoid the trail completely and scale the mountain, but that is not an option now.”

“The unicorns can fly,” Morro pointed out.

“We would reveal far too much to our enemies if we were seen on flying unicorns.”

“What about the fairies?”

“I would not send them into a nest of mages.” Clint shook his head. “Their secrecy must also be preserved.”

Morro sighed with frustration. “Then we have no options.”

Clint remained silent for a while as he continued to peer up at the mountain. Eventually, he also sighed.

“We have three options,” Clint stated. “We have your hourglass, but I am not inclined to send you up there alone. It would take a great deal of luck for you to find a decent hiding spot every time the sands ran out. I am not sure that the knowledge that we would gain would be worth the risk.”

“I tend to agree,” replied Morro, “but I will do it if you think we really need to know what is up there. What are the other options?”

“We could just turnaround and leave. Certainly the two of us are not going to attack the Black Citadel and free the hostages alone, but I would like to have some idea of what is up there.”

“And option three?”

“We ascend the trail at night.”

Morro looked up at the portion of the trail that he could see and swallowed hard. The zigzagging trail traveled up the side of the mountain for as far as he could see. It was not a particularly wide trail, and there appeared to be no leeway on the open side of it. One slip and horse and rider would plummet to the canyon floor. Morro lowered his eyes and gazed at Clint.

“I am at your service. Whatever you decide, I will stand by your side.”

“On that trail,” Clint chuckled, “I would prefer you before me or behind me. There will not be any room on either side of me.”

Despite the tension, Morro laughed softly and nodded.

“Let’s find a place to rest until nightfall,” decided Clint. “When we do go up, we will keep one of the fairies ahead of us at all times. They can switch off so that we do not place too much strain on either of them. If there are sentries on the trail, the fairies should be able to find them before we stumble into a trap.”

Morro nodded in agreement, and they retreated from that area of the canyon and found an overhang to shelter under until dusk. Being on the east slope of the tall mountains, the ground darkened well before sunset. Long shadows shaded the canyon floor, and Clint decided that the lower portion of the trail was dark enough for them to begin their trek. They mounted their unicorns and Clint led the way back to the base of the trail. Peanut and Sparky were released to act as forward scouts. Sparky took the first shift and shot up the trail with enthusiasm for his mission. Peanut perched on Clint’s shoulder awaiting his turn.

The trail narrowed as they rode higher up the side of the mountain. The change was not perceptible on any particular leg of the switchbacks, but after a while the difference was notable. Eventually, the trail was barely wide enough for a horse and rider. The switchbacks were so sharp that they had to stop almost completely for the unicorns to make the turns. After two hours of climbing, Clint called for a change in fairies. Peanut eagerly leaped off his shoulder and darted up the trail. Moments later, Sparky returned and lighted on Morro’s shoulder.

“This is not as exciting as I thought it would be,” complained Sparky. “Each leg of the trail is just like the last. It is boring.”

“It might be boring for one who can fly,” retorted Morro, “but I can assure you that it is not boring for me. I am glad that it is too dark out now to see how high we are.”

“Quiet,” Clint said softly as his unicorn slowed to make a turn at one of the switchbacks.

Morro and Sparky immediately quit their banter, returning to the stony silence of the mountains. Two switchbacks later, Clint heard a soft noise. At first he could not make sense of it, but it grew constantly louder. He concentrated on the sound, thinking it resembled some sort of whimper, but he still could not make any sense of it.
 
Suddenly, the sound became loud and clear.

“Stop! Stop now!”

The unicorns immediately halted, not requiring any instructions from their riders.

“Peanut?” Clint said softly. “Is that you? Where are you?”

“About two strides in front of your unicorn’s hooves,” replied the fairy. “If they had not stopped they would have crushed me.”

“What happened?” asked Morro.

“Why don’t you ask Sparky?” retorted Peanut. “He is the one who likes to play practical jokes. Tell him that I am not laughing at this one.”

“I didn’t do anything,” protested Sparky. “Why am I always getting blamed?”