“This had better be good, Fisker, or you will be a captain again. What have you done to rile General Hedstorus?”
“I have done nothing, General,” answered Colonel Fisker, “but I have come into possession of some valuable intelligence that you need to hear before meeting the head of the 33rd Corps.”
“Go ahead,” the general said as he waved for the colonel to sit. “Tell me what is so urgent.”
“There is trouble in the Federation, General,” the colonel began. “I believe it involves a coup, but I can not be certain of that just yet. What I have discovered is that the 33rd Corps is not present in Giza to aid our activities. They are here to keep watch over King Anator and the 23rd Corps to make sure we Aertans do not interfere in the plans of one of the Despair factions. In short, General, the 33rd Corps is not friendly to us. They may even be a threat to the life of King Anator.”
“A threat to the king?” scoffed the general. “Do you realize what you are saying?”
“I do,” the colonel nodded. “I do not have the proof yet, but I am working on it.”
“You said that Hedstorus is on his way here,” frowned the general. “Why is he coming into the palace?”
“Two of his officers were killed in the slums today,” answered the colonel. “The protective detail torched the building where the assassins fired from. I need not remind you, General, that the security of Giza is the duty of the 23rd Corps. I suspect that General Hedstorus is coming to you to complain about your failure to protect his men. He might even threaten to take over the policing of Giza. I think I know you well enough that if you were not informed of the threat from the 33rd Corps that you might be inclined to go ahead and let him police it on his own. I think that would be a major mistake at this time.”
“I see your point, Colonel,” sighed the general, “but Hedstorus has a point as well. It sounds like we have assassins running loose in Giza.”
“The men of the 33rd Corps are brutal to our citizens, General. I do not think we have assassins as much as citizens seeking revenge. I would be willing to ride anywhere in this city without an escort, and I will do so if it will prove anything to you.”
Shouting could be heard outside the door, and Colonel Fisker knew that General Hedstorus had arrived. So, too, did General Antero.
“He will not stay outside,” the general commented softly. “Stay in the room, Fisker. I may want to hear your opinion after the general leaves.”
Colonel Fisker nodded as the door swung open and General Hedstorus stormed in. The Baroukan glanced around the room to see who was present before crossing the room to stand before the desk of General Antero.
“We need to talk,” scowled General Hedstorus, “and I will not wait while you deal with petty underlings. Close the door on your way out, Colonel.”
“You do not order my men about, Hedstorus” snapped General Antero. “If you want the door closed, do so, otherwise get off your chest whatever it is that caused you to storm in here.”
General Hedstorus looked like he had been slapped across the face, but he recovered quickly.
“You have assassins running loose in your city, Antero,” spat the Baroukan. “I just had two of my officers murdered in the slums. I will not stand for it. If you cannot police your city, I will do so.”
“Under whose authority?” General Antero asked calmly.
“Authority?” echoed General Hedstorus. “I am a Federation general. I need no authority to defend myself or pursue rebels.”
“So,” General Antero smiled tautly, “you have captured the assassins and determined that they are rebels?”
“They slipped away,” General Hedstorus said softly, “but that is not the point. You do not tell me what to do.”
“That is true,” replied General Antero, “but I did hear that King Anator has an assignment for you. We have intelligence that the rebels might be back in the desert. The king is thinking of sending the 33rd Corps out to capture them.”
“I do not take orders from King Anator,” the Baroukan replied sharply. “My orders come from Grand General Kyrga.”
“Grand General Kyrga is the commanding officer of the Federation Army,” stated General Antero. “King Anator is on the Council of the Federation. In effect, Kyrga works for King Anator.”
“Don’t play word games with me, Antero. If your king wants me to do something, he can make a request to Kyrga. The Grand General is the only person I will take orders from.” General Hedstorus shook his head as if to clear it. “You are distracting me from the reason I came here. I want those assassin found and turned over to me.”
“Why were your men in the slums?” asked General Antero.
“What?” balked the Baroukan general. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“If your orders have anything to do with the city of Giza, King Anator should have been informed. If your orders do not have anything to do with Giza, then your men should stay in their barracks where they are safe. As for turning assassins over to you, that will not happen. Criminals caught in Giza will be meted out justice under the orders of King Anator.”
“Aerta is still part of the Federation,” snarled General Hedstorus. “I have every right to deal with rebels as I see fit.”
“I see,” General Antero said calmly. “Let me be perfectly clear about this, Hedstorus. The security of Giza is my domain. If you want to hang someone, go find them outside the walls of my city. And by the way, the next time one of your officers orders the torching of one of the buildings in this city, he and his men will be arrested.”
“How dare you!” shouted the Baroukan general.
“Colonel Fisker,” commanded General Antero, “escort General Hedstorus to the palace gates, and inform the guards that the general is only to enter the palace by invitation, and he must be escorted at all times by a detail from the 23rd Corps. Good day, General Hedstorus. This meeting is over.”
General Hedstorus gaped at Antero as if some great joke was being played on him. When he realized that the Aertan general was serious, he turned and stormed out of the office. Colonel Fisker had to hurry to catch up to him, but the duty officer had already snagged passing soldiers and formed an escort for the Baroukan general. After seeing the general to the gates, Colonel Fisker hurried back to Antero’s office. The duty officer shot him a broad grin as he passed and Fisker winked at him. The colonel entered the general’s office and closed the door. General Antero was staring out the window, his back to the door. He turned around when the door closed and waved the colonel to a chair.
“I only half believed you, Fisker,” the general said, “but that fool’s own mouth convicted him. Whatever the reason for the 33rd Corps being in Giza, it is not to aid the 23rd Corps. We need to find a way to get rid of him.”
“I agree, General. I have been thinking about the reason for his men being in the slums. The only thing I can think of is a scouting mission.”
“Scouting for what?”
“Offensive and defensive positions,” answered the colonel.
The general nodded slowly. “And such knowledge would be needed if the 23rd and 33rd were to come to blows.”
“Exactly. They are meant to be our minders.”
“I must inform King Anator about this,” said the general. “Perhaps he can get Kyrga to call the 33rd out of here.”
“I would advise caution,” the colonel said softly. “While King Anator is a member of the council, my intelligence says that he is not well liked, especially by Grand General Kyrga. If King Anator lets Kyrga know that we are onto his plot, he may make steps to change things in ways we will not anticipate.”
“You think Kyrga is behind all of this?”
Colonel Fisker sighed. “I am not sure of anything. I have a very good source who works directly for the emperor. According to this source, there is a power struggle going on within the leadership of the Federation. It is even possible that Emperor Jaar is no longer calling the shots. It is believed that Kyrga is runn
ing things, but that there is someone higher up pulling his strings. It is not something that Aerta should get involved in.”
“But we are a part of the Federation,” retorted the general. “Aerta is a major part of the Federation.”
“The old Federation or the new one?” asked the colonel. “General, I have heard that King Anator is treated like trash when he travels to the Imperial Palace, and I also think General Alden would take Aerta out of the Federation if he could. Isn’t it time we started focusing on what is best for Aerta?”
“I will pretend that I did not here that, Colonel. You would be well advised to remember that you are a colonel in the Federation Army.”
“You know that I will always serve you faithfully, General, but I hope you keep an open mind to things that might affect the well being of our country. Above all else, I live to serve my king and country.”
“And you can do that by getting out on the streets and finding those assassins.”
“I wonder how many lost officers it would take before the 33rd Corps left the city for their own safety,” the colonel mumbled under his breath.
The general’s head popped up and he stared at the colonel. The two men stared at each other for several moments before the general cleared his throat and averted his eyes.
“That is all, Colonel Fisker,” the general said formally. “You have done a good job. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off.”
The colonel saluted and started to leave, but the general’s voice hit him before he reached the door.
“If one officer of the 23rd Corps dies, Fisker, it is going to be very painful for you.”
Colonel Fisker smiled broadly. “I understand, General.”
* * * *
The Badger snuck through the secret entrance and mounted the stairs out of the cellar. The sentries passed him through the door and into the sitting room of the Badger leader.
“Sit, Franco,” commanded Issa. “Where are the emperor’s women?”
“I cannot find them,” reported the Badger group leader. “I have men searching all over Zara. There has been no sign of them.”
“Did you try Olansk?” asked Issa.
“I did that personally,” nodded Franco. “That trip has caused me to reevaluate my thoughts on General Forshire. While I did not find the general there, I did get a chance to see his men. They truly are misfits. Even with a great strategist, I cannot believe those men are capable of killing fifty Badgers. They do not even belong in a uniform.”
“They came from prisons,” replied Issa, “and that is truly where they belong. Obviously, you have not looked everywhere for the women.”
“But I have,” frowned Franco. “My men have investigated every inn on both sides of the Barrier. We have questioned merchants and couriers who travel every road in the land. We have checked every smuggling route and double checked every harbor. No one has seen those women.”
Issa did not castigate Franco as he usually did. Franco’s brow creased with concern.
“What is it, Issa? You are uncharacteristically quiet.”
“I am not sure,” replied the leader. “Something is not right in the world.”
“Has business dropped off?”
“Hardly,” chuckled Issa. “In fact, it is too good. We have a contract on King Harowin that includes a bonus for prompt action. The bonus has a cap of one million.”
Franco whistled appreciatively.
“It gets stranger,” Issa continued. “We have a contract on King Anator, and the purchaser thinks that King Anator already hired us to kill him.”
“Who is the client?”
“King Bartomir of Candanar. He is so sure that King Anator hired us because they killed one Badger on the palace grounds already.”
“I hadn’t heard of any new deaths among our ranks.”
“That is because we haven’t had any,” declared Issa.
“Did our man tell King Bartomir that we have not lost any men?”
“No,” Issa replied. “He should have told him to avoid damaging our reputation, but he would have been forfeiting a contract and a half. It seems that King Bartomir is willing to buy the contract that King Anator supposedly has with us. If the king knew the truth, he would not have even agreed to his own contract.”
“This is a power play,” frowned Franco. “Do you think Lord Kommoron has anything to do with these contracts?”
“Lord Kommoron does not hold us in high regard at the moment,” replied Issa. “He claims that we have failed him. I do not think he would be contracting with us again until we have set things right. Besides, the contracts come from verified emissaries and have verified clients. The contract on King Harowin comes from Spino where Queen Samir was just assassinated by an Ertakan soldier. I assume that was in response to the death of the two princes in Farmin by a Spinoan soldier.”
“Then what troubles you if all of the contracts make sense?”
“The bigger picture,” stated Issa. “If all of these supposed contracts are fulfilled, practically every monarch and heir east of the Barrier will have died recently. That is too much of a coincidence for me to swallow.”
Franco fell silent as he digested the information. Eventually, he frowned and gazed at the leader of the Badgers. “How much do you know about Lord Kommoron’s plans?”
“More than he revealed to me,” answered Issa, “but not enough to satisfy my curiosity. What is the real question?”
“It is obvious to me that Lord Kommoron is staging a coup against Emperor Jaar,” explained Franco. “If he has designs on controlling the Federation, is it too far a leap to think he might also seek more control over the individual countries of the Federation?”
“Certainly not,” agreed Issa, “but he is not the one contracting with us. Our other clients appear to have valid desires of their own.”
“Lord Kommoron is not above deceit and treachery,” Franco pointed out. “What if Lord Kommoron is manipulating the other clients into taking the very actions that he desires himself?”
“That is possible,” admitted Issa, “and even probable, but I can’t help wondering if there is another explanation. There could be another player in this game, and if there is, I want to know who it is. Sniff around and see what you can find out.”
* * * *
The eight mages sat on the shore of the Sea of Tears, ending another day of their journey northward. The meal had already been devoured and they were deep into what had become their favorite evening game. They were joined together in the task of controlling a whirlwind in the sand. They were becoming proficient enough at working together that they only paid slight attention to the activity as they talked to one another. Sometimes one of the mages would speed up the process or alternate it slightly to catch the others off guard, but it was a friendly game. Once in a while one of the mages would pay just a bit less attention than was necessary, and that mage ended up with his feet covered in sand and the rest of the group laughing at his expense.
Unexpectedly, Fakir Aziz spoke loud enough for all to hear. “What is fear?” he asked.
The others looked at him in confusion, and the whirlwind began to falter. It had not helped that the Mage had relinquished his cooperation the very moment he asked the question. There was an awkward moment of silence as the other mages adjusted their magic to stabilize the whirlwind.
“It is an irrational feeling of impending doom,” stated Kalmar.
“It need not be irrational,” corrected Zynor. “There are many valid reasons for being fearful.”
“I agree with Zynor,” added Atule. “No matter how powerful we are, there will come a time when we bite off more than we can chew. It would not be irrational to acknowledge our weakness at that time.”
“I think that Kalmar was referring to the usefulness of fear,” interjected Valera. “While each of us might know fear at one time or another, such a feeling accomplishes nothing. It does not increase our skills or our chances of survival. Therefore the emotion is i
rrational because it is without function.”
“Yet fear does have its uses,” Crystil said softly. “The pillar that I created at Smirka used fear to deter entry to the village. The black-cloaks also utilize that emotion to keep people at bay.”
“The question was not whether fear was useful or not,” frowned Dorforun. “The question was whether the feeling of fear was irrational.”
“Actually,” interjected Eulena, “the question was, ‘What is fear?’ I think we have inadvertently answered the question by stating that it is an emotion, often a crippling emotion.”
Fakir Aziz smiled at the elf. “Whether fear is rational or irrational is irrelevant at the moment. Fear can be a disabling emotion if we let it take hold of us. I would like to hear from each of you as to how you would combat overwhelming fear should it strike you.”
Fakir Aziz reached down and picked up the staff he was fashioning. He knew that a long night was ahead of him as the other mages stared blankly at one another.
Chapter 7
Frayed Nerves
Captain Marez entered the estate of Sidney Mercado just outside of Ur and called for Karl Gree as he headed for the dining room where the leaders of the Tyronian Patriots usually met. Karl and Althea heard the call and entered the building from the rear porch. As they entered the dining room, the captain unrolled a long paper and spread it over the table.
“This was found in the home of an old stone mason,” Marez said excitedly. “The plans are from a renovation made to the Old Keep over fifty years ago.”
Karl and Althea approached the table eagerly, and Karl sat down to examine the plans. Althea stood behind Karl and peered over his shoulder.
“Are they accurate?” asked the Knight of Alcea.
“The old man does not know,” answered Captain Marez. “The plans belonged to his father, but they must be better than nothing. They are the only trace we have found of what the Old Keep looks like inside.”
“They do not cover the entire keep,” frowned Althea as she leaned past Karl and pointed to the paper. “See how the lines extend off the paper. There must be more of the drawing.”
Alutar: The Great Demon Page 8