13 Day War

by Richard S. Tuttle

  Horns blared from the towers of the Old Keep, and soldiers rushed out through the gates to attack the mage. Theos knew that his acts had broken his promise to Karl, and he knew that meant that he would not be involved in the rebellion of his homeland. That knowledge brought with it a level of rage that Theos had never felt before. Instead of retreating and running for his life, Theos stood his ground. He pointed his arms towards the soldiers pouring out of the Old Keep, and fire once more flared from his fingertips. Sheets of flame soared towards the keep and the charge halted. The soldiers scrambled to get out of the way, but few were fortunate enough to escape the onslaught. The stench of searing flesh and burning leather filled the air, and a cloud of smoke rose eerily skyward.

  Unexpectedly, a powerful magical projectile flew past the mage’s head so close that it ripped the hood off of his head, exposing his fiery hair for all to see. Theos instinctively erected a magical shield of defense and gazed through the smoky air towards the keep. In a crenel on the wall stood a black-cloak, and his face was masked with anger at having missed his target. Theos smirked as he raised one arm and let loose a spell of power. He knew that the black-cloak would have already erected his own magical shield, but Theos knew how to play this game. A powerful invisible force slammed into the wall just to one side of the black-cloak. A bystander might have scored the blast as a near miss, but it hit exactly where Theos had aimed it. The blast slammed into the stone wall with a force so powerful that it smashed a portion of the wall into small chunks of rock. Those small chunks of stone flew outward with the force of an explosion. While the black-cloak did indeed have a magical shield surrounding him, he had not planned on a physical attack. That failure cost the black-cloak his life as hundreds of chunks of stone tore into his body.

  The firebrand’s own shields were suddenly peppered with all sorts of magical projectiles. Theos scanned the ramparts again and located seven black-cloaks, well spaced out. His eyes also detected fresh troops rushing out of the keep to physically attack him. Knowing his magical shields were strong enough to weather the onslaught for a few minutes, he turned his attention to the rushing soldiers. He sent sheets of flame at the soldiers, but they had been instructed to use their shields to deflect the flames. While some of the soldiers fell, not all of them did. Theos quickly corrected his tactics and sent a small burst of invisible power towards the advancing troops. The bolts of energy smashed into the columns of soldiers, sending the head man of each column flying backwards with enough force to topple the entire column. Theos immediately returned to sending sheets of fire at the enemy. With the soldiers’ bodies crumbled in heaps, the shields were no longer effective in stopping the flames from reaching their targets. Screams and howls of agony split the air as the soldiers burned to death. As Theos returned his attention to the black-cloaks on the ramparts, a tiny weight landed on his shoulder.

  “Karl demands that you retreat immediately,” Thimble said with a sense of urgency. “There are soldiers responding to the horns from every sector of the city. You have only moments before they are upon you. Flee now.”

  “I might as well finish what I started,” scowled Theos. “I am no longer useful to the patriots, but I can save quite a few of them by diminishing the ranks of those they will have to fight later.”

  “It was not a request,” retorted the fairy. “Karl is not willing to trade your life for a handful of soldiers. Retreat now!”

  “And go where?” argued the raging mage. “They will hunt me down and that will imperil every single patriot.”

  “Retreat to the estate,” answered Thimble. “Karl will take care of it from there. Do not delay! You have no time to think about this. Do as you are told.”

  Theos sighed wearily as the projectiles continued to smash into his magical shield. He knew that the shields would fail him soon, and the thought of hundreds of soldiers closing in on him shook the rage out of him. He realized that his capture could do as much damage as the capture of Artum, and he vowed not to be taken alive, but he would try to comply with Karl’s directive. With another sigh of defeat, the mage halted his offensive spells. He quickly issued an incantation and a cloud of fog started appearing at his feet. The cloud grew rapidly and within seconds he was unable to see the Old Keep. The shouts of soldiers rang out from every direction, and Theos knew that he had waited too long to retreat. Within seconds, he would be surrounded.

  “Drop your shields,” urged the fairy.

  “What?” barked the mage.

  “Drop your shields,” repeated Thimble, “and keep the fog pouring out.”

  Theos shook his head in confusion, but he did as the fairy requested. As soon as the shields were down, he felt his feet leave the ground. Seconds later he heard the impact of two groups of soldiers colliding into each other in the thick fog below him. He listened to their shouted questions, but the sounds diminished as the fairy levitated him higher. In moments, he was standing on the roof of a building.

  “Can you fly” chirped the fairy. “Or should I summon Karl’s unicorn for you?”

  “I can fly if I transform into a bird,” answered Theos, “but the black-cloaks will probably detect that.”

  “They are expecting you to fly away?” questioned the little green man.

  “I would if I were in their place,” reasoned Theos. “After abruptly ending my attack, they would assume that I am attempting to flee.”

  “Would they still monitor for flying spells if they could see you?” asked the fairy.

  “That would be a waste of energy.” Theos shook his head. “But I cannot afford to fly away if they are staring at me. I would be followed and destroyed.”

  “Unless what they were staring at was not really you,” grinned Thimble. “You forget that I can cast images of my memories.”

  “You would be attacked instantly,” frowned Theos. “I will not risk your life for my foolish actions.”

  “I will not be harmed,” boasted the fairy. “I will keep your image just out of range, and I will move it quickly. If your flight is swift, we will both be at Sidney’s estate in moments.”

  The mage held a doubtful expression on his face, but the fairy grinned boldly with an aura of confidence that swayed the mage’s decision.

  “How long do you need to get outside the fog and set up the illusion?” asked Theos.

  “Count to one hundred and then fly like a bird. I will meet you at the estate.”

  The fairy leaped into the air, and Theos began counting. An eerie silence had fallen over the central part of the city, a silence broken only occasionally as a soldier’s armor clanged against some unseen obstacle. Before Theos reached one hundred, shouts erupted from the direction of the Old Keep. He clearly heard shouts of his sighting. Still, he waited a few more seconds before casting the spell that would transform him into a bird. Once he was committed to his avian form, Theos flew as fast as he was able. He soared upward through the cloud of fog and angled towards the Gulf of Ur. He did not want to lead them to the merchant’s estate if someone was tracking him. Once he was over the gulf, he dove towards the surface of the water and skimmed over the waves. When he felt he was far enough away from the city, he banked sharply to his right and headed for the coast north of the city. As soon as he was over land, he landed and transformed back into a man. He would have a decent walk ahead of him, but it was worth it to shorten his flight. Plus, if he had been tracked, his landing would take the followers away from Sidney’s estate rather than towards it. He definitely did not want to bring attention to that place. He had already caused too much of a ruckus for the patriots.

  The walk to Sidney’s estate was uneventful, but Theos walked slowly and cautiously, always prepared for an ambush. By the time he reached the estate, dusk was upon him. Karl Gree, Captain Marez, and Althea were waiting on the porch for him. None of them spoke until they were all safely inside. Althea sent one of the patriots to cancel the search that had been initiated to find him.

  “What took you so long?” asked
Karl. “Thimble expected you to be here when he arrived. We thought we had lost you.”

  “I flew north in case the black-cloaks were tracking me,” explained the mage. “I didn’t want to lead them here.”

  Karl nodded understandingly, but Captain Marez glared at the mage.

  “Do you have any idea what you have done today?” snapped the leader of the Tyronian Patriots. “You cost us three good men and stirred up a hornets nest that will keep us hiding for weeks. Mectin will have his men combing the entire city until he finds you.”

  “I am truly sorry,” frowned Theos. “I knew that I should not get involved, but once I saw Artum being dragged into the Old Keep, I could not ignore it. His knowledge of the patriots would bring about many deaths of my countrymen. I am sorry, but I would do it again. My only disappointment was that Artum died in my attempt to free him. An archer shot him in the back as he was fleeing.”

  “Your only disappointment?” huffed the captain. “You must learn to follow orders and nothing else. Were it not for you, Artum would be alive and well right now.”

  A mask of deep sorrow fell over the mage’s face, but the mask was creased with confusion. “King Mectin would not allow Artum to live after he had the demonkin strip his mind. What you are saying makes no sense. And what did you mean by the loss of three men? Artum was the only one they had captured.”

  “The two soldiers escorting Artum were our people,” Althea said softly. “Their task was to gain entrance to the Old Keep by dragging in a top-level patriot. Artum volunteered to be the captive. He held barrel weed in his shackled hands.”

  A look of shock and pain fell over the mage’s face, and he slumped into the nearest chair and placed his head in his hands. “This is why you asked me for the barrel weed?” he asked with a broken voice. “They were to think he was dead? How would you ever get the body out to feed him the pit berries? Without the pit berries, he would truly die.”

  “It was all worked out,” Althea explained. “The two soldiers would take Artum directly to a cell and then report to the king. From what we have been able to learn about the inside of the Old Keep, the cells are in the lowest level, while King Mectin is in one of the highest. The soldiers being unfamiliar with the layout of the keep would naturally get a little lost on the way to reporting to the king. They would eventually be promised their reward and be sent back to bring the prisoner before the king.”

  “When it was discovered that the prisoner had died,” added Captain Marez, “the soldiers were to carry the corpse out for burial rather than take him to the king. It was the only feasible way to get Artum out of the keep once we got him inside.”

  “Artum would then be fed the pit berries,” interjected Karl, “and the three men would be sent away from the city until after the rebellion.”

  “Then I have caused more damage than I could have possibly imagined,” sighed the mage. “I curse this gift of mine. Why couldn’t you have just left me in the battle today? Why couldn’t you have let me die ignorant of my stupidity?”

  “It is neither your gift nor your stupidity that is causing the problem,” scowled Captain Marez. “It is your anger. I thought you were making progress with that, but it is over now. We cannot afford to have you around here. If you had kept your head covered, we might have been able to hide you until things died down, but there are precious few mages with fiery hair in these parts. They know who you are, Theos. You have to go.”

  “I agree that Theos must leave Tyronia,” Karl frowned, “but you are not being fair to him. What he did today had nothing to do with his rage. Had it been his rage, the confrontation would have taken place far from the city center. Theos made a conscious decision to save Artum from interrogation, and based on similar knowledge to what he had at the time, I would like to think that I would have reacted the same. It took tremendous courage to pit himself against the entire keep, and he put his life on the line to protect the Tyronian Patriots. I think a large part of the fault for today’s fiasco rests in the three of us for not letting Theos know what we were up to. While none of us expected him to get involved, we should have considered the possibility of him stumbling into our little act.”

  Althea nodded. “Not rage, but mistaken valor. I agree with Karl. I certainly wish Theos had not gotten involved, but he was brave to do so. The question now is where do we send him? To Waxhaw? Calusa?”

  “No,” Captain Marez shook his head. “While he is making great progress on his anger, I think it would be a mistake to place him in another country where the local patriots wear the uniform of the Federation. It is just asking for trouble.”

  “That only leaves the horse countries,” frowned Althea. “There are no Federation troops there at all.”

  “I will not go into exile and sit out this war,” scowled Theos. “You do not need to take it upon yourselves to plan my future. I started my plan for revenge alone, and I will return to that. Like it or not, I plan to take a lot of Federation soldiers with me on the way to my grave.”

  “Leave us,” Karl said softly to Captain Marez and Althea.

  Captain Marez looked Karl in the eye and nodded without argument, but Althea donned a hurt expression. Karl stared back with a steady resolve. Althea eventually smiled weakly and followed her brother out of the room.

  “If you are going to try talking me out of attacking the Federation,” Theos said when he was alone with Karl, “save your breath. You may be able to teach me how to control my anger, but you cannot make the cause of that anger disappear entirely. I will have my revenge on the Federation for their attacks upon innocent people.”

  Karl smiled. “From what I have heard, you got a fair start along that road today. At least one black-cloak is dead and over one hundred of King Mectin’s guard, and you walked away without a scratch. All-in-all, I would consider that impressive.”

  “Don’t forget three patriots,” scowled Theos. “I certainly will never forget them.”

  “Only two,” countered Karl. “You did not kill Artum, and he knew that he was risking his life for this mission. Theos, do not hold those deaths heavy in your heart. You had no way of knowing what we were doing. You should have been informed. The fault lies with us.”

  “A trivial distinction,” sighed the mage. “You didn’t ask the others to leave so that we can commiserate on my failure. If you are planning on trying to get me to give up my path, save us both the time and effort. My mind is made up.”

  “Actually,” smiled Karl, “I have something in mind for you. How would you like to be somewhere where everyone wearing a Federation uniform is truly your enemy?”

  “You mean like inside a Federation prison?” chuckled Theos.

  “No.” Karl shook his head. “I am thinking of Alcea.”

  “Your homeland?” balked the mage. “What would I do there?”

  “What you do best,” grinned the Knight of Alcea. “Think of it as the two of us changing places for a while. I will work with your people, and you will work with mine. There will soon be sixty thousand Federation soldiers converging on Tagaret, and the Royal Sorcerer was recently killed by a demonkin. King Arik could use your magical talents, and you will have far more targets in one place than anywhere in Zara.”

  “And your king would agree to this? Does he know of my struggle?”

  “You are doing quite well with that,” Karl smiled, “but I would never speak for King Arik without his authorization. I spoke to him while we were waiting for you to return here. If you find this task acceptable, they are already waiting for your arrival.”

  “They?”

  “King Arik and Queen Tanya. I think you will like them both.”

  “I already have sixty thousand reasons for liking them,” smiled Theos. “I accept.”

  Chapter 3

  Tales in the Snow

  Janay, wife of Emperor Jaar, stood on the balcony of Herinak Castle and gazed down at the group of people beyond the city walls. Hundreds of children and adults were sledding in the snow, but
her eyes were drawn to a small group of seven. Each of the seven was a resident of the Lair, a special level in the castle that was isolated from the rest.

  “Are they having fun?” asked a feminine voice from behind Janay.

  Janay turned around and saw an elderly lady enter the balcony. Janay had seen the woman around the Lair ever since her arrival. She did not know who the lady was, but Janay recognized a woman of great culture when she saw one. The woman’s every movement spoke of grace, as if she had been groomed for a throne. Janay looked at her curiously.

  “They are indeed having fun,” Janay stated. “I apologize, but I can not remember your name.”

  “I have never mentioned it,” smiled the queen as she walked to the edge of the balcony and gazed below. “Names are seldom used here in the Lair. They are not important.”

  “Not important, or too dangerous to mention?”

  Queen Romani turned and glanced into Janay’s eyes and smiled. “These are perilous times that we live in. Do not be concerned. There is not a person here who seeks to harm you or your daughters. You were brought here for your safety.”

  “So I have been told,” frowned Janay, “but I have learned to be skeptical of those who hide the truth from me. Do you know Forshire?”

  Janay intentionally left off Forshire’s rank in the Federation army to gauge the response from the mysterious woman.

  “I know him,” answered the queen. “He is a good man.” Queen Romani was perceptive enough to realize that Janay was getting too curious. She decided to drive the conversation towards the heirs. She turned away from Janay and focused on the group of seven far below. “They certainly do appear to be having a wonderful time. I am glad that they get along together.”