“Not in the old man’s house,” the captain shook his head. “He searched the place thoroughly after he realized what he had found. This is all we will get.”
“Then this will have to do,” Karl stated with a slight sigh. “Let’s see what we can learn.”
They spent the next hour examining the plans, Karl and the captain freely exchanging thoughts of what they were seeing. Althea remained silent. Although her attention was fully centered on the plans, her hands roved over Karl’s back and shoulders in a subconscious massage.
“I am hungry,” Captain Marez said with a look towards his sister.
“Karl and I already ate,” Althea responded without looking up at her brother. “There is some venison in the kitchen and half a loaf of bread. Help yourself to it.”
Captain Marez sighed with disappointment, but he rose to his feet and left the room. Without realizing what she was doing, Althea’s hands began to massage Karl’s neck, and the Knight of Alcea suddenly became aware of the closeness of the woman. He reached up and pushed her hands away. Althea suddenly became aware of the rejection, and she stood up straight and stared at the Alcean.
“What?” she asked angrily.
“Why don’t you sit at the table and review the plans like the rest of us,” suggested Karl.
“So I can’t touch you?” scowled Althea. “I love you. Is that so bad?”
“Yes, it is bad. We have to concentrate on these plans. Our time is drawing near, and we still don’t have a way to get into that keep.”
“So,” she spat, “it is bad for me to love you. Do you hate me so much that you cannot bear my being near you?”
Karl rose angrily and stared at the woman. “I do not hate you, Althea. I love you, and that is the problem. I have already told you that I am a married man. I have a wife back home in Alcea, and I love her, too. Lyda might not be much of a wife to me right now, but I made a vow to her, and I will never break that vow. When you get so close to me, I cannot handle it. My desire for you tortures me, but I will not yield to it. There can never be anything between you and me. Do you understand? Never.”
Althea started crying, and Karl stormed out of the room. A few minutes later, Captain Marez returned and halted in the doorway. He saw his sister crying and noticed that Karl Gree was gone.
“What happened?” he asked.
“The Knight of Alcea just told me to die.”
“Karl would never say that to you,” scoffed the captain. “He loves you. What really happened?”
“He has told me that we shall never be together. It is the same thing. I would die for that man, and he rejects me because I make him feel uncomfortable.”
“He is married, Althea,” soothed the captain. “You know that. He has always been open and honest with us. You must know the type of man it takes to become a Knight of Alcea. His character must be impeccable. He could no more walk out on his wife than he could walk out of the coming struggle here in Tyronia.”
“I know,” sobbed Althea, “but he can walk out on me. I do not matter to him.”
“You are being unfair to him,” Captain Marez said sadly. “We are all likely to die in the next couple of weeks. Do not rile him up now when his thoughts are needed elsewhere. If we don’t find a way into the Old Keep soon, thousands of Tyronians will die. Let Karl and me do our work alone for a while. Deal with your emotions after our country is free again.”
“When Tyronia is free,” retorted Althea, “the Knight of Alcea will leave us and return to his wife.”
“Only if he survives the entry into the Old Keep and his battle with K’san. Sadly, I don’t think Karl Gree will ever leave Tyronia.”
* * * *
Max Caber stood in the office of the Mercado warehouse in Calusa. Piled on the desk in front of him were the articles he needed for his mission. He strapped several pouches to his belt and began filling the pouches with the articles on the desktop. Almost as an afterthought, he retrieved a pouch of Lanoirian throwing stars and attached that to his belt as well. He removed a small quiver of myric quills from his pack and attached that to his belt, leaving his pack on the desk. When he was sure that he had everything that he needed, he pulled on the cloak of invisibility that the Mage had given him. He eased the office door open and peered into the hallway. No one was in sight.
The Ranger descended the stairs into the warehouse. Hundreds of Karamin patriots and Rhodan warriors were at work in the warehouse putting the final touches on one of Max’s inventions. None of the people present in the warehouse would have said anything about Max walking through the large building, but the Ranger wanted to test his stealthiness on them before depending upon it when it mattered. He moved slowly and cautiously across the cavernous room, deftly sidestepping when a collision with another person seemed imminent. In an agonizingly slow dance across the floor, Max managed to get to the doors of the warehouse, but they were closed and manned by guards. The projects in the warehouse required secrecy, and the doors would not open casually. Fortunately, Max was a patient man.
The Ranger stood near the door, but not close enough for his breathing to be heard. When he saw two men heading towards the door, he maneuvered so that he was right behind the last man. The door only opened long enough for the workers to pass through, but it was enough for Max. He stuck close to the last man and still felt the air of the closing door. He mentally noted the need to stay very close to people going through doors. Once outside the warehouse, he moved to one side of the doors and halted to visualize his path to the castle. The warehouse he had purchased for Sidney Mercado was right next to the castle, but there was no entrance on the side of the castle, only a wide open space and a ditch that used to serve as a moat. A metal fence ran around the entire castle, creating a barren zone where anyone walking would be fired upon. Max had to walk through the city streets and approach the front of the castle.
The Ranger moved slowly along the streets of the city until he came to the front gates of the fence. The gates were manned by two guards who spent most of their time talking to one another. The Ranger halted and waited patiently. Over an hour passed before a colonel approached the gates. Max moved silently into position. When the gates opened to admit the colonel, Max passed through behind him. The Ranger followed the colonel along the path through the barren zone and through the doors to the castle itself. Once inside the castle, Max halted and let the colonel move on alone. The Ranger had a fair knowledge of the layout of the castle. For months he had been inserting Rhodan warriors into the castle as hired staff, and they had helped him create a rather detailed map of most of the floors. His first task of the day was to verify as much of the map as he could. With slow measured steps, the Ranger strode deeper into the castle.
Most of the people on the ground floor moved about slowly, and Max had little trouble hugging the wall to allow them ample room to pass, but occasionally a runner appeared without warning. One such runner necessitated that the Ranger move too quickly to do so quietly. Max scuffed his boot moving out of the way, and the runner halted. The young man turned and looked around, confusion and concern etched into his face. Max stood deathly still, one foot still in the air. The runner eventually shook his head and took off running. From that point forward, Max avoided the center of the corridors and kept close to one wall or the other.
As Max was finishing up his tour of the ground floor, a door ahead of him opened. Max immediately halted. A shiver of fear raced up his spine as K’san stepped out of the doorway not five paces in front of the Ranger. Knowing that he had left his enchanted blade inside the warehouse, Max could only try to calm himself and remain still. The demonkin started to walk away and suddenly halted, as if some unexplainable sense had issued a warning. K’san turned slowly around, squinting into the dimly-lit corridor as if trying to see something that should not be seen. Max’s hand moved slowly towards the hidden myric quills hidden under his cloak, but he knew he could never get to them without revealing at least a glimpse of his clothing as the
folds of the cloak parted to admit his hand. Knowing the futility of his movement, the Ranger froze. The seconds crawled by at an excruciatingly slow pace, and Max suddenly realized that he was holding his breath. Fearful of even the slightest noise, the Ranger continued to hold his breath, hoping the demonic priest would move away.
As if in answer to prayer, K’san suddenly lost interest in his sense of danger. The priest turned and strode off along the corridor. Max slowly exhaled. He stood still for another few minutes, trying to regulate his breathing before heading for the stairway to the upper levels. The Ranger spent the next three hours mapping the second level. There were fewer people moving about the second level, and the Ranger had to fight the feeling of being complacent about his scouting mission. As he entered the library on the second level, he noticed the sun through the window. Knowing that it was nearing mealtime, he backed out of the library and made for the stairway. His second mission was about to begin.
The castle had a main armory below ground level, but it also had one small armory on each of the other levels to make additional arms available in the event of an attack. One of the duties of the armory guard was to check each armory on a daily basis. It was an easy and sought-after task as it required little work and even less supervision. The current holder of the job had been one of the earliest supporters of King Vlador. He had served in Vlador’s unit when the prince had been a military commander. His reward had been the coveted position of armory guard, and the man had adapted well, according to the Rhodan warriors who knew his schedule. Every evening the guard had his meal delivered to the small armory on the third floor so that he did not have to put up with the mob in the soldiers’ dining room.
Max hurried up the stairs to the third level and made his way towards the armory. When he arrived, the door was closed. Max placed his back against the wall and waited. He looked both ways along the corridor before nudging his pocket. Within seconds, he felt something small crawling inside his cloak and eventually clawing at his neck. A tug on his ear told him that the fairy had made it to his post.
“Is it time now?” Runt whispered in the Ranger’s ear.
“Not just yet,” whispered Max, “but I would not be able to wake you when it is time. We will let the guard eat before you strike.”
The fairy offered no response, remaining silent like his partner. A few minutes later, one of the Rhodan warriors appeared. She balanced a tray of food against her hip as she knocked on the door of the armory. A voice called permission to enter and the servant opened the door, letting it swing until it gently hit the wall. She carried the tray to the table and set it before the armory guard. Without a word spoken, the servant retreated, closing the door behind her. The door had been open for more than enough time to allow Max to enter and move away from the doorway. The Ranger stood behind the armory guard and watched him eat. When the man pushed his tray away, Runt darted out of the cloak of invisibility and shot towards the ceiling. He immediately called forth a sleep spell, and the guard’s head promptly fell upon the table.
“If there is enough room for your head under the door,” ordered Max, “watch to see if anyone is coming.”
Runt shot down and headed for the door. Max moved the chair next to the guard away from the table and knelt down next to the sleeping man. He took hold of the key ring on the guard’s belt and detached it. Rising to his feet, Max moved the chair back and sat at the table. He opened his pouch and pulled out a small wax tin. He pressed one of the keys into the wax and carefully extracted it. Shoving the first tin out of the way, Max procured another tin and made an image of the second key. When all of the keys had been processed, Max had sixteen tins on the table. He carefully packed them into his pouches and then restored the key ring to the guard’s belt. He arranged the chairs properly and then called to Runt. The fairy shot back into his hiding place, and the invisible Ranger stepped into the hallway to continue his mapping.
* * * *
Sheri heard running outside her suite in the Lair in Herinak Castle. She opened her door and stepped into the corridor. She saw several people dash into the large dining room and frowned.
“Who are you?” asked a voice from the other direction.
Sheri turned her head and saw a handsome young man with a neatly trimmed black beard.
“I am Rita,” the Knight of Alcea answered. “What is going on?”
“It’s Samana’s birthday,” smiled the young man. “Come on and join in the fun. I am Harold.”
Prince Harold grabbed Sheri’s hand and led her along the corridor to the dining room. When they reached the door to the dining room, Harold positioned Sheri alongside the door and held a finger to his lips. He then opened the door and stuck his head into the room.
“I brought a present for you Samana,” he called into the room. “There is a new person in the Lair.”
There were joyous laughs and shouted comments, but Samana’s sister’s voice rose over all of the others.
“I hope it is an Alcean,” Rynda shouted. “That is the only birthday present Samana wants.”
Loud laughter rippled through the room, but Sheri cringed on the other side of the door. Harold looked at her with a puzzled expression, but he led her into the room without comment.
“I don’t know about that,” he announced to the group. “Her name is Rita, and I just found her on my way here.”
Everyone watched as Sheri entered the room, and the laughter died to silence. Sheri smiled weakly and gazed about the room.
“What is an Alcean?” she asked. “And why would someone want one for a birthday gift?”
“We were just joking,” smiled Rynda. “Welcome to my sister’s birthday party, Rita. Where are you from?”
Sheri said nothing, and Prince Samuel came to her rescue.
“We are being rude,” the Spino heir said. “We haven’t even introduced ourselves, and we are already grilling Rita. I am known as Samuel, Rita. Welcome to the Lair.”
“I am pleased to meet you, Samuel, and thank you for the warm welcome.”
One by one the others introduced themselves. None of them mentioned titles, but Sheri noticed that they no longer used their fictitious names. With the introductions done, no one pressed Sheri about her nationality. All of the attention was turned towards the birthday girl. Baron Stikman had arranged for a lavish birthday cake and baskets of sweets for everyone. When the attendants noticed the extra person at the party, they scrambled to fix up another basket for Sheri. The party ran on for an hour with Samana receiving gifts from the others. The gifts were all handmade, but Samana acted like she cherished each one. When everyone had their fill of cake and sweets, the conversation turned to talk about the countries of Zara. Sheri listened intently and tried to figure out how to drive the conversation towards politics. As she watched the heirs interacting with one another, she noticed that Samana was watching her closely. Their eyes locked and Sheri quickly looked away.
“Where are you from, Rita?” Samana asked loud enough to draw the attention of everyone. “Is it Karamin or Vinafor?”
Sheri felt everyone looking at her, and she suddenly felt very out of place. Her face must have reddened because Samuel came to her aid once again.
“Leave her be, Samana,” he pleaded. “She will open up when she is ready.”
“I am just curious,” Samana pressed on. “Queen Romani has no heir, and I do not know who rules Karamin these days. What is the harm in finding out?”
Sheri knew that the Baroukan woman would push relentlessly until she had an answer, and that would halt Sheri’s plans of directing the conversation.
“I have never been to Karamin,” Sheri declared, “and I am no relation to Queen Romani.”
“Ah, Vinaforan then,” concluded Samana. “If you are not a princess, what are you doing in the Lair?”
“I do not think it is proper to abuse the hospitality that has been extended to me,” frowned Sheri. “I am grateful to Baron Stikman for allowing me such comforts in this troubled
time. Can we speak of other things?”
Samana raised an eyebrow, but the others nodded and returned to their previous conversations. Sheri tried to follow all of the conversations at the same time in order to get a feel for the heirs and their personalities. She was so intent on listening that she did not notice Samana moving around the table until the Baroukan sat down next to her.
“The others might not care why you are here,” Samana said softly, “but I do. You might as well tell me now, because I will not stop asking. And don’t even think of getting out of it by mentioning that the baron told you not to reveal anything. We have all been told that, but we have our own code up here in the Lair. You are either one of us, or you are an outsider. The choice is yours.”
Sheri turned and glared at the woman, but she knew the threat was real enough. Samana probably controlled the others enough that a shunning would make it impossible to accomplish her mission.
“I am not royalty,” sighed Sheri, “but I will be soon. I am betrothed to a prince, and I am not too happy about it. I would appreciate it if you would keep my secret to yourself. I still like to think that I will find a way out of it.”
“If you are betrothed,” frowned Samana, “there will be no getting out of it.”
“There might be,” shrugged Sheri. “War is coming to Zara. It might change a lot of things.”
“War?” asked Prince Harold. “What do you know about a war?”
Sheri noticed that everyone had stopped talking and were staring at her.
“I heard a great deal on the way here,” Sheri said as she tried to make something out of the situation. “The Federation attacked some distant land, and things went terribly wrong for them. There is now talk that that distant land will bring the war to Zara to destroy the Federation.”
“The Alceans!” exclaimed Princess Jeanel. “They survived!”
“That is wonderful,” added Prince Harold. “I thought their cause was lost.”
“Wonderful?” scowled Samana. “Do you realize what you are saying? Our families will be destroyed. Our countries will be destroyed.”
Alutar: The Great Demon Page 9