Garth sighed as he turned and looked around the room at the various groups assembled. He mentally berated himself for not taking a more active role in the planning of the war in Zara, but he had been consumed with the war in Alcea. Eventually, he sighed again and nodded to King Myer of Tyronia.
“We have the men necessary to storm the keep,” frowned King Myer, “but as Queen Romani said, it will be bloody on both sides. We also have black-cloaks and a K’san to deal with, and the loss of Theos hurts in that regard.”
“There are two main problems,” interjected Karl Gree. “We have not been able to infiltrate the keep. That means that our losses will be high when we storm it. The second problem is the large Federation army present in Ur. Once we commit to attacking the keep, General Marashef’s army will attack our rear. The truth is, there will not be many Tyronian Patriots left after we win. Even if you could come up with more troops to help us, they would never get into the city without a fight.”
Garth sighed and shook his head as he saw Baron Stikman rising to his feet. He did not know why the Koroccan baron was rising, but he knew that trouble was soon coming to the Council of War.
“What is the purpose of all of this?” groused the baron. “It serves no purpose to rebel when all of the good people die in the battles. Somehow you Alceans have managed to remove 240,000 Federation soldiers from Zara. I am not sure how you accomplished that feat, but I applaud it. Let it end there. The Federation has only 80,000 men left, and they need every one of them to police the countries that they already hold. They are no longer a threat to the horse countries, and there will be no free men left alive west of the Barrier if you insist on fighting them. This Council of War no longer serves a purpose.”
“So that is it?” snapped Prince Saratoma as he rose to his feet. The elven prince glared at the Koroccan prince and continued with a tone of anger, “The horse countries are no longer in danger, so the rest of us should just die or wither under the boot of the Federation? My people have already committed to this fight against the Federation. We have fled the Elfwoods. What are we supposed to do now? How are we to live in safety as those in the horse countries do?”
Garth quickly rose to his feet to halt the arguing. He glanced pleadingly at King Wendal and asked, “May I have leave for a few minutes?”
King Elengal gently placed his hand on his grandson’s arm and urged him to sit. The elven prince silently complied. King Wendal nodded to Garth and then nodded to Baron Stikman in a silent command to sit down. Garth turned and left the room. As soon as the door closed, soft conversations erupted around the table. Sensing a dangerous return to the bickering, Tedi took the opportunity to distract the attendees by telling them about the war in Alcea. The interest in the war was keen, and no one seemed to notice that over an hour had passed before the door opened again. Garth and Kalina entered, but they did not close the door or move to take seats at the table. Two Red Swords entered next and flanked the doorway. Baron Stikman’s eyebrow rose at the entry of foreign soldiers, but he soon understood their need. King Arik and Queen Tanya strode into the room, and Garth closed the door. All of the Alceans in the room rose and bowed low to the royal couple.
“I apologize for my tardy arrival,” the Alcean king declared. “I understand that we have some problems regarding the war in Zara. I am here to pledge whatever support is necessary to see the Federation destroyed. Garth has informed me of the conversations so far, so I will not delay this meeting any further by asking that it be repeated.”
The Alceans sat back down and King Arik approached the table. He turned and looked at Boric of Karamin.
“Boric, you will have the extra men that you need,” declared the Alcean king. “I have already given the order to dispatch one thousand Alcean Rangers to Karamin. I consider them to be some of the world’s greatest warriors. The Alcean Rangers will be in your camp when you return home this night.” Turning his gaze to the rest of the assemblage, he continued, “Garth and I have also come up with a plan that will temper the problems in Vinafor and Tyronia. The details of the changes can be discussed later in smaller groups. What we need to discuss now is the attack on the countries east of the Barrier.”
“With all due respect, King Arik,” Baron Stikman objected without rising to his feet, “I see no need for any such attacks. The Federation armies are not large enough to threaten us any longer. There are only 80,000 of them.”
King Arik smiled thinly. He was ready for the baron’s objection.
“Your information is woefully inadequate, Baron Stikman,” declared King Arik. “In the last month, Grand General Kyrga has increased the number of men under his command. Six new armies have already been formed. Three of those armies have been dispatched to Giza, Farmin, and Valdo. The other 30,000 men are still in Despair, and we do not know where they are meant to go, but that is irrelevant. We have in our grasp right this moment a chance to destroy the Federation once and for all. If we do not take that chance now, the Federation will reform and attack again. I will not let that happen.”
“You won’t let that happen?” growled Baron Stikman. “I thought this was a Council of War. Are we all now under Alcean rule to do whatever it is you wish?”
King Arik shook his head. “No, Baron Stikman. I do not presume to hold any control over the forces of Korocca, Zarocca, or anyone else outside Alcea, but I know the hearts of many in this room. I know those from the countries west of the Barrier want their countries back, and I know that the elves will die without the destruction of the Federation. I know that the dwarves of Tarashin have pledged to join us in this battle, as I thought the horse countries had, but I will not force any nation to fight against their will.”
“You will not shame me into committing my men to a senseless battle,” retorted the baron. “Our castles are built to defend our homeland. That is the way we Occan people fight. Let the Federation send their extra 60,000 men against us. They will not conquer Herinak.”
“And what of the 175,000 prisoners that Alcea now holds?” asked King Arik. “My word has been given to them that they would be repatriated, and I always honor my word. Where do you suppose they will end up if the Federation is not entirely destroyed? No, Baron, we will destroy the Federation with or without the help of the horse countries. It is the only path to a lasting peace.” King Arik turned to face King Wendal and asked, “Can I persuade the Koroccans to temporarily move the portal here? I need it placed somewhere secure on the ground level.”
King Wendal looked at the Alcean king with a crease of confusion on his face. “I can see to that,” he replied, “but to what purpose?”
“The attack on Giza must come from the north,” King Arik explained. “Otherwise we place ourselves between the armies of Giza and Farmin. I plan to bring three thousand Red Swords and their mounts through the portal. The stairs of the castle would be a great impediment for the mounts.”
“Three thousand?” blustered Baron Stikman. “Are you daft? Those men will be going up against 20,000 Federation troops which are camped in a walled city. Even my promised 20,000 Occan warriors would be hard pressed to win against a fortified city. A walled city always has the edge. Do you so easily send your men off to die? Do their lives mean so little to you?”
“I will not be sending my men off to die, Baron,” retorted King Arik. “I will be leading them in the attack on Giza.”
Gasps echoed through the room, and Baron Stikman stared at King Arik in disbelief. Garth seized the moment to speak.
“King Arik is called the Warrior King for a reason,” Garth explained. “He was born to combat evil and bring peace to the world, and he has won the allegiance of many peoples in doing so. For whatever reason, the gods have bestowed the Warrior King with the gifts needed to conquer evil, and conquer evil he will. I pledge my life to him.”
The other Knights of Alcea present also pledged their lives, and King Drakarik rose and kneeled before King Arik.
“We know you as Garala,” the dwarven king said reverently. “While w
e were not in Alcea for the fulfillment of the Prophecy of the Dwarven Ruby, we are here now. The people of Tarashin are in your service. If you wish us before the walls of Giza, then we shall be there.”
King Elengal of the Dielderal rose quickly and knelt beside the dwarf. Prince Saratoma was taken by surprise by his grandfather’s quick movement, but he hastily rose and followed the elven king.
“And we call you Valon,” declared King Elengal. “As with the Elderal and the Sorelderal, the Dielderal are yours to command. Be mindful of our blood, but spend it where you must. If we are needed before the walls of Giza, we will be there waiting for you.”
King Arik smiled with surprise as he gazed down on the kneeling monarchs. “Your service is noted and warmly received, but there are other tasks awaiting both of your peoples.”
“Our task lies far in the future,” objected the dwarven king. “There will still be time for us to accomplish what needs to be done.”
“There is another task that I have planned for the dwarves of Tarashin,” replied Garala. “It will not be an easy one, but it is one well suited for your people. We will speak of it later.”
The elves and the dwarf rose and sat back down. Baron Ohmson of Zarocca rose.
“There will be no need to move the portal,” he announced. “I will provide three thousand Occan mounts for your Red Swords. It will take a few days to get them here, but the two thousand lancers that will be herding them will be joining your Red Swords on the march to Giza. I also believe that crushing the Federation now is the only true path to a lasting peace. In the spirit of the Warrior King, I will also lead my men into battle.”
As if a dam had burst, shouts of agreement flooded through the room as other Occan barons pledged their support. Baron Stikman eventually sighed heavily and nodded in agreement.
“We are one,” Baron Stikman declared. “Tell us about this mysterious passage through the Sands of Eternity.”
Kalina asked for a map and one was quickly spread on the table. She leaned over the table and began explaining the path through the desert. As everyone focused on the map, Garth and King Arik split to speak to different groups. Garth cornered Clint and dragged him away from the commotion.
“You are going to be rather busy for the next few weeks,” Garth declared softly.
“Do you think I will have to keep the 1st Corps bottled up that long?” the Ranger asked.
“You will not be going up against Tauman,” answered Garth. “The 1st Corps needs to be annihilated, not tied down.”
“I thought we were trying to spare lives?” frowned Clint. “What are you not telling me?”
“You can save more lives in other areas,” Garth replied. “There are two groups that we cannot afford to play around with. Tauman’s 1st Corps is one of them. The other is the Black Citadel. You are going to be used where cunning and deceit can save more lives than battle can.”
“We are not going to use the A Corps in battle?” balked General Forshire. “Are you one of those who thinks my men are still misfits?”
“You know me better than that, Clint,” Garth smiled. “The A Corps will have more than one chance to bloody their swords, but you will accomplish more through other means. Your men are going to be moving nonstop for the next few weeks so it is advisable to give them some rest while you are gone.”
“Gone?” asked Clint. “Where am I going?”
“To the Cordonia that doesn’t exist,” answered Garth. “General Forshire is going to meet secretly with General Ross of Barouk and General Alden of Aerta. I think their help is going to be needed before all of this is done.”
Across the room King Arik spoke softly with King Drakarik of Tarashin.
“What is the task you have for my people?” asked the dwarven king.
“Your people might be better suited to handle Camp Destiny,” answered the Warrior King. “Do you have good archers among your people?”
“Dwarves are renowned for their throwing axes and battleaxes,” the dwarf answered, “but we always use bows for hunting game. We have many a fine archer among our ranks.”
“And magicians?” probed King Arik.
“Aye,” frowned the dwarven king. “We have a number of good magicians, but our best has gone missing. Dorforun just disappeared one night.”
“If you need more we will supply them,” promised Arik. “Let me tell you what we need to accomplish.”
The noise level in the room suddenly increased, and King Arik turned to see people moving away from the long table. The map was rolled up and the participants went in search of others to speak to. Baron Stikman focused on Garth Shado. He crossed the room with long strides and arrived just as Garth and Clint were finishing up.
“I want to apologize for my stubbornness earlier,” the baron said to the Knight of Alcea. “I was not really opposed to your plan as much as it sounded, but I will admit to having second thoughts. You do realize that any spies in Herinak will not miss the amassing of twenty thousand lancers?”
“Since when are you concerned about spies in Korocca?” retorted Garth. “You have always behaved as if it was impossible.”
“I did,” the baron admitted with a sigh. “I guess I have been foolish in more ways than one. King Myer informed me that his Patriots discovered three Federation soldiers trading in their uniforms for the garb of merchants and boarding the monthly ferry from Ur. My men were waiting for them when they arrived. It took some doing, but each of them finally admitted their guilt. You are welcome to witness the execution in the morning if you wish.”
Garth did not respond immediately, and when he did, it took the baron by surprise.
“I would like one of the spies,” stated Garth. “Hopefully one of them whose body does not show the signs of a strong interrogation.”
“You want his body?” balked the baron.
“No, Baron,” Garth smiled tautly. “I want him alive, and I need a tailor if you can summon one.”
“These men are spies,” retorted Baron Stikman. “They must be executed.”
“The man you give to me will die,” Garth promised, “but I intend to make his death worthwhile to our cause.” Garth turned to Clint and grabbed his arm before he could leave. “I need the badger brooch that you carry. Do you have it with you?”
Clint nodded as he reached into a pouch and carefully extracted the golden brooch. “Be careful with the pin,” he warned. “The poison kills quickly.”
Chapter 2
Mutilated Coins
Lord Zachary smiled at Queen Samir and leaned back in his chair. He looked around the room casually one last time to make sure that there were no servants in the room. The queen of Spino had sent the guards away quite a while ago, leaving the two of them alone to discuss the upcoming wedding of Prince Samuel to the Vinafor nobleman’s daughter. Lord Zachary knew that the minor breech in security was because of the sensitive nature of their discussions. The queen didn’t want anyone to suspect that she was making Prince Samuel marry so that she could seize a large portion of the Vinaforan’s wealth. Her greed pleased Lord Zachary.
“I think we have accomplished a great deal today,” stated Lord Zachary as he rose. “There is more that I wanted to cover, but I must not take up all of your time. I will leave you with a listing of the assets that I will be transferring to you on the day of the wedding. Please look it over so that we can finalize everything tomorrow.”
The queen’s eyes grew large as Lord Zachary placed the papers on the table. The Alcean spymaster knew that the queen wanted to read the list immediately, and that is why he had saved it until it was time for him to leave. He suspected that Queen Samir would not recall her guards or call for servants until she had read the complete list and hidden it from prying eyes. Lord Zachary turned and left the small sitting room without further conversation.
Just down the hall from the queen’s small sitting room was a waiting room. Its purpose was to allow visitors a place to sit comfortably while waiting for one of the many fu
nctionaries in the palace. It was seldom used, but the Alcean spymaster expected a particular sergeant to be in the room. Sergeant Batt had been instructed to stand in the waiting room and stare out the window every day at this time of day. Lord Zachary careful eased the door open and saw the back of the sergeant where he expected to find him. He looked around the small room to make sure that they were alone before entering and walking up behind the sergeant.
“Do not turn around, Sergeant Batt,” Lord Zachary said softly to the sergeant.
The Spinoan sergeant stiffened at the command, but he did as he was told. He continued to stare out the window.
“The queen is alone in her small sitting room just down the hall,” the spymaster instructed. “She will remain alone for the next five minutes so you do not have a lot of time, but it is more than sufficient for what you have to do. Did you remember to bring the Ertakan tunic?”
The sergeant merely nodded.
“Remain as you are,” ordered Lord Zachary. “Count to one hundred when you hear the door close and then be quick about your business. The three soldiers who recruited you will meet you this evening with the rest of your gold.”
Sergeant Batt trembled as he listened for the closing of the door. When he heard it close, he started counting while taking off his Spinoan military tunic and pulling on an Ertakan one. When he reached a count of one hundred, the sergeant let out a long nervous sigh and turned around. He exited the small waiting room and proceeded along the hallway until he reached the queen’s small sitting room. He eased the door open and walked in.
“I am not to be disturbed until I call for you,” snapped the queen without even looking up to see who it was. “Leave me.”
A throwing knife slid into Sergeant Batt’s trembling hand as he slowly crossed the sitting room to get closer to the queen. He did not want to miss his target. Unexpectedly, Queen Samir’s head snapped up and she glared at the soldier.
“I said to leave me,” she shouted.
Sergeant Batt had no choice now that she had seen him. He threw the throwing knife at the queen’s chest, and the queen screamed as the knife struck. Shouts immediately rang out along the hallway outside the sitting room, and Sergeant Batt panicked. He turned and bolted out of the room, hoping that the only thing anyone remembered seeing was his Ertakan military patch. The plan called for him to kill the queen silently and retreat to the waiting room to change tunics once again, but he never made it that far. A soldier tackled the sergeant, and they both slid along the floor. Before the sergeant could get to his feet, a dozen soldiers surrounded him with their swords pointing at his chest. With bells clanging loudly and horns sounding in the distance, the soldiers dragged Sergeant Batt away. A short distance away, Lord Zachary watched it all happen, confident that Sergeant Batt would never equate the Vinaforan Lord with the Ertakan sergeant who had hired him.
Alutar: The Great Demon Page 2