13 Day War

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “You had me worried, General,” Colonel Rotti said softly. “What are you doing down here?”

  General Somma’s hands were shaking with fear. He tried to hide them by gripping his legs, but that action only made his legs quiver as well.

  “I don’t know what I am doing here,” quaked the general. “To tell you the truth, I do not belong here, especially in this uniform. I am not a general, Rotti. Everyone knows that, even you, but you at least have not mocked me, at least not to my face.”

  “Nor behind your back,” declared the colonel, “but that is not what I meant when I asked why you were here. I meant, what are you doing on the riverbank? I know that you fear the water. Why torture yourself like this?”

  “I have suffered a great deal of humiliation because of my fear of water,” the general explained, “but no one has ever treated me as cruelly as Franz. That man takes great delight in seeing me quiver. Several times a day he orders me to the riverbank just to watch me cower. I want to kill him.”

  Rotti’s eyes widened in surprise. General Somma had just uttered a treasonous speech, but what surprised the colonel was the raw hatred expressed. He had never heard Somma speak ill of anyone.

  “That would not be a good career move,” the colonel quipped, hoping to bring a bit of levity into the conversation to lift the general’s spirits.

  “Career?” scoffed the general. “Do you really think there is any higher position suited for me? I should not even be a general, and I wouldn’t be if Queen Samir had not demanded it.”

  “Why did she demand it?” asked the colonel.

  “Two reasons,” frowned Somma. “The position brought prestige to my family, and the queen was able to extract a healthy fee from my father for promoting me, but the true reason was to punish another officer. He was a talented officer, and he demanded to be promoted. He was also the queen’s lover. She felt he had exceeded his bounds and was taking too much for granted. She squashed his large ego by promoting the most unlikely candidate instead of him. Now you know the quality of the man you serve under. Are you disappointed?”

  “No,” answered the colonel. “I have never thought of you as a great general, but I have recognized a good man within you. You are just ill-suited to this life. That does not make you worthless in my eyes. It merely means that you need to follow the path that appeals to your talents instead of one chosen by the queen.”

  “You are a good man, Rotti,” replied the general. “I have known that from the start. That is why you are my favored colonel. It is you who should be wearing this uniform, not me.”

  “You still haven’t answered my first question,” the colonel said. “Why are you sitting on this riverbank? Shouldn’t we go back to camp and talk inside the tent?”

  “No.” The general shook his head vigorously. “I am here to conquer my fears. I cannot take any more of Franz’s bullying. If I cannot walk away from this river without fear then I deserve to die here.” The colonel did not know how to respond, and the general continued talking. “For the past two days, I survived by hoping that the Alceans might kill Franz for me, but look at this dam. Have you ever seen a more pitiful excuse for a dam? If this is the best the Alceans can do, there is not a chance in this world of Franz dying.”

  Colonel Rotti glanced at the massive dam. There was truth to Somma’s words. The dam was crude in every sense of the word. It had not been so obvious when they were looking at it from the lake side of the dam, but on this side, the evidence was hard to miss. The dam was constructed of crudely cut trees, and they were stacked in what looked to be a haphazard manner. Still, the colonel reasoned, it did a fairly decent job of keeping the water contained behind it, and that is all it was supposed to do. The bright moonlight illuminated what appeared to be a chain coming from the bottom of the dam. The colonel stared at it and wondered what it was for, but a nearby splash tore him from his musings. He whirled around and saw General Somma standing in the water. He leaped into the water and took hold of the general.

  “You do not need to do this, General,” the colonel said soothingly. “You need not prove anything to Franz or anyone else. Your fear is not of your own making. Do not torture yourself over it. You let me handle General Franz.”

  Chapter 23

  Day Eight

  Twerp shot down through the trees, his tiny eyes glanced around the dim clearing. He saw Wylan sitting up with his back against a tree, and he shrieked with delight. He darted towards the Knight of Alcea and landed on Wylan’s raised knee.

  “You are alive!” the fairy chirped rapidly as he jumped up and down on Wylan’s knee. “I thought I had lost you. I made it to the Rider’s Rest and sent the fairy there on to Tagaret for help, but they forgot about me. I was stranded in the inn until just now. Forgive me for not being here.”

  “Slow down, little man,” Wylan replied, the barest of smiles upon his lips. “There is nothing to forgive you for. Your tireless efforts brought the best healers a man could wish for. I owe my life to your efforts.”

  “Yet you do not seem very happy,” frowned Twerp as he gazed around the clearing in the predawn dimness.

  Twerp saw Wesik lying on his side, the sleeping bodies of Zalaharic and Podil near the unicorn. Zalaharic was stirring, as if the fairy’s excitement had awoken him. Nearby, Sinora lay on the ground, two other unicorns standing above her. At the other side of the clearing, Sheri’s body lay in isolation. The fairy noticed Wylan gazing at his former mate.

  “I guess I should be thrilled to be alive,” Wylan said softly, “but I feel nothing but sadness in my heart. I am happy that Sinora and Wesik have survived, but I cannot imagine life without Sheri. I would gladly trade places with her. She has always been the one with joy in her heart.”

  Tears came unbidden to Twerp’s eyes, and he abruptly turned away from Wylan so that the Knight of Alcea would not see his weakness. He need not have bothered. Wylan’s own tears began streaming down his face as if merely talking about Sheri brought fresh pain to his heart.

  “Tears are good for washing the eyes,” Zalaharic said softly as he gently shook Podil and then rose to his feet, “but they can also blur your vision.”

  Wylan blinked at the words. The Knight of Alcea was not sure if the elven healer was stating another of his wise platitudes, or if he was issuing a warning to Wylan about his extremely sensitive eyes. Zalaharic had cured Wylan’s blindness after the Battle of Watling Flats, but the cure had left the Knight of Alcea with very sensitive eyes. Wylan usually wore eye patches with tiny holes cut in them to minimize the amount of light that reached his eyes.

  “You are wanted in Tagaret,” Twerp said to Zalaharic. “There is a plague running rampant through the city. You are to return there immediately.”

  Zalaharic frowned as Podil rose and moved to his side.

  “What are we to do with our patients?” asked Zalaharic. “We cannot just leave them here in the forest. That is unacceptable.”

  “Wesik is strong enough to walk now,” answered Podil, “and Wylan can ride Sinora. They can make it to Caldar.”

  “And Sheri?” balked Zalaharic. “I will not abandon her.”

  Wylan’s heart skipped a beat and he stared at Zalaharic with eyes as large as coins. Podil frowned in confusion. She looked at Sheri’s body and then returned her gaze to Zalaharic.

  “What are you saying?” Wylan asked. “Is Sheri not dead?”

  “She is not dead,” declared Zalaharic, “nor is she alive. She exists in some state in between, and I am not sure what to do for her.”

  “If she is not dead,” scowled Wylan, “why have you not been tending to her? I would rather you save her than me.”

  “The rest of you required immediate attention,” explained Zalaharic. “Sheri did not. I have kept an eye on her these past few days. Her condition has not changed. If there is a cure for her condition, it could wait a couple of days until the rest of you were saved from death. That wait is now over, and she must be tended to immediately. I cannot just
hope that she remains stable until I come back from Tagaret. I cannot return to the city just now.”

  “The Bringer has ordered it,” frowned Twerp. “It was not a request.”

  Everyone fell silent for a moment while Zalaharic glanced around the clearing.

  “Podil,” Zalaharic said softly, “you shall return to Tagaret. Your skill at battling a plague is as valuable as mine. I must try to save Sheri.”

  Podil frowned deeply. She knew that Zalaharic would have to enter Sheri’s body to discover the source of her condition, and she knew that such a session would be extremely dangerous, especially when battling the unknown.

  “I cannot let you do that, Zalaharic,” she replied defiantly. “It is too dangerous for you to enter her unmonitored. I have to be by your side in case you become trapped. Remember, it was dark magic that ensnared her. Do not take this danger lightly.”

  “There is a risk,” conceded Zalaharic, “but there are also thousands in Tagaret needing help. They cannot be ignored, either. Splitting our efforts is the wisest approach.”

  “But you are bound to the Bringer’s service,” frowned Twerp. “You cannot ignore his call. He will punish you.”

  Wylan’s hand shot out and grabbed the fairy off of his knee. He brought Twerp close to his mouth and spoke in a low, threatening voice.

  “I will not have my Sheri abandoned, not for a million people.”

  Wylan released the fairy, and Twerp fluttered back to his perch on Wylan’s knee. He knew that Wylan would never harm him, but the Knight of Alcea had made clear his devotion to his mate. The fairy nodded with understanding.

  “I will take the blame,” the fairy offered to Zalaharic. “I will tell the Bringer that I ignored his orders to send you back to Tagaret. He will find you faultless.”

  Zalaharic smiled warmly at the fairy. “Lies do not become you, Twerp, but your sentiments are warmly appreciated. I will take whatever punishment Valon seeks for this transgression, but I think if King Arik understood the decision facing me, he would agree with my judgment. A Knight of Alcea is worth extraordinary efforts to save, and I intend to do my best to save Sheri. Take word back to Valon of my decision. Podil will leave immediately for Tagaret.”

  “Not immediately,” Podil stated as her eyes gazed into Wylan’s eyes. “If I am not to stay and monitor you, Zalaharic, I will train Wylan to take my place. It is far too dangerous for you to work unaided, and Wylan is just the person to keep you alive, for without you, there is no hope for Sheri.”

  Wylan’s eyes grew large as he listened to Podil’s words. A shiver of fear raced through his body as he realized the responsibility being thrust onto him, but he nodded enthusiastically.

  “Tell me what to do.”

  Zalaharic smiled and nodded. “It appears that we have a solution that works. My only alteration concerns Twerp. Wake Thrip and send her back to Tagaret. Twerp will help Wylan monitor me. Between the two of them, I think I will be fine.”

  Podil had great doubts about the situation, but she nodded in agreement with the solution. The thought of a fairy monitoring Zalaharic intrigued Podil, and she filed it in the back of her mind as she prepared to leave for Tagaret.

  * * * *

  Rut-ki stood on the eastern bank of the Chi River and glanced up at the predawn sky. The stars were bright, and the Knight of Alcea nodded with satisfaction. She had hoped for the skies to be clear on the day of the attack, and it seemed that her wish had been granted. Rut-ki turned away from the river and strode into the Lanoirian army camp. The camp was already stirring as five-thousand Lanoirian soldiers woke and consumed their morning meal. Rut-ki moved through the camp until she came to the command tent. She entered the tent and nodded to the leader of the Lanoirian force.

  “Good morning,” greeted Colonel Wu-sang. “Would you care for a cup of tea?”

  Rut-ki nodded and joined the colonel at a small table set up in the center of the tent. She took a sip of the tea and then looked the colonel in the eyes.

  “The day has arrived,” stated the Knight of Alcea. “Everything must go exactly according to plan. There are too many of the enemy for us to allow for mistakes.”

  “I understand,” nodded the colonel. “I have had my men make practice runs every morning. Nothing will go wrong.”

  Rut-ki sighed lightly at the colonel’s words. While she had great respect for the colonel and his men, nothing ever went perfectly. She decided to go through the preparations one more time.

  “Are the wagons ready?” she asked.

  “Five-hundred wagons and their teams and drivers are ready and waiting,” answered the colonel. “Each driver has a map to his designated destination, and another copy of the map is stored under the seat of each wagon. No one will get lost, and the drivers are required to return both copies of the maps so that they will not fall into the enemy’s hands without us being alerted to it.”

  “Good,” nodded Rut-ki. “Have your men also been instructed to note the regiment, company, and squad of each man entering the wagons?”

  “And they have been told that no more than two men from any single Federation squad are to be put in the same wagon,” replied the colonel. “I have used my own men to practice these procedures. The orders will be followed as you have specified.”

  “What about the lifelines?” asked Rut-ki.

  “The chains will be rowed across the river as soon as you authorize it,” answered the colonel. “As Cho-sung specified, each chain across the river will be slightly lower than the one before it. He did warn us that the last couple of chains might be so low that they snag debris coming downstream. We have had no way to test that, but it is a concern. If the debris snags on the last few chains, it could create a new dam, and that will endanger my men as well as the Federation.”

  Rut-ki frowned and nodded. “If that happens, release both ends of the affected chains.”

  “That will doom those men to death,” warned the colonel. “They will not survive the journey to the sea.”

  “I understand,” replied Rut-ki, “but that is the best that we can do. We are attempting to save as many of the Federation soldiers as we can, but I will not endanger all of your men to do so. Remember that the primary goal here is to incapacitate the 4th Corps and 18th Corps. If we can save thousands of their men while doing so, that is wonderful, but the primary goal must be met at all costs, even if that means killing all of the Federation soldiers. What about the fairies?”

  “They are cute little creatures,” smiled the colonel. “They are not only ready to perform their part, but they are eager to do so.”

  “Will one-hundred of them be enough?” asked Rut-ki. “I might be able to come up with a few more if needed, although they are becoming more scarce as we find new tasks suited to them.”

  “They will be enough,” answered Colonel Wu-sang. “There will be no confusion as to the choices open to the Federation soldiers.”

  “And the black-cloaks?” asked Rut-ki. “Have you stressed the importance of killing them quickly?”

  “Very much so,” frowned the colonel. “We have no defenses against their magic. They are the primary targets for every archer along the banks of the river. I have stressed over and over again that if a single one of them survives, we might all die. While I cannot guarantee their deaths, I feel very confident that none of them will survive.”

  “I will also be looking for them,” promised Rut-ki, “and I will have an excellent view of the river. Very well then, Colonel, when your men are done with the morning meal, I suggest you get a fifth of them across the river. The attack will begin at high sun.”

  * * * *

  The four heroes of the Mage gathered in the king’s study to discuss their plans for the day over the morning meal. They had just finished eating when there was a knock on the door. The door opened and a Red Sword stuck his head in and announced that Balamor was waiting outside the room. The king gave permission for the gaunt, red-headed mage from Pog to enter.

  “Ba
lamor,” smiled Jenneva, “come join us. Would you care for something to eat?”

  “I am not hungry,” replied Balamor as he approached the table and sat down. “I understand that a plague infests the city. How can I help?”

  “We need all the healing mages we can get,” answered Queen Tanya, “but I think we also need your skills in another area. King Arik needs to address the citizens of Tagaret, but Alex feels that there is danger waiting for Arik in the city.”

  “A Claw of Alutar to be specific,” interjected Alex. “We know that one of those demonkin remain, but we can not be positive that he is already in the city. My gut just screams every time someone mentions the king addressing the people.”

  “I have heard about the Claws of Alutar,” frowned Balamor. “They are not to be taken lightly. I suppose you wish me to create an illusion?”

  “We think it would be the safest way for me to speak to the people,” replied King Arik. “I feel foolish for even asking this of you, but I learned long ago not to question Alex’s feelings when he has them.”

  “Never feel foolish for expecting treachery from your enemies,” Balamor smiled sympathetically. “If there is a Claw of Alutar in this city, I can make him believe that you are standing before him. It is a simple task.”

  “Perhaps not so simple,” retorted Jenneva. “The king is not known for traveling the city streets alone. In fact, the Red Swords have become so protective lately that they usually insist on a large number of soldiers accompanying the king. The illusion would not be believable otherwise. We thought about using large numbers of fairies to accomplish the task, but we have discarded such plans. Most of the fairies are already tasked elsewhere, and we think the illusion should be moving rather than stationary.”