Alutar: The Great Demon

by Tuttle, Richard S.

  “Are those men outside the walls truly Alceans?” asked the general.

  “Not just Alceans,” answered Max. “They are Alcean Rangers, as am I.”

  “You?” sputtered the general. “I have seen your face around here since I arrived. How could you be Alcean?”

  “I have been here for a long time,” smiled Max. “I was part of the group that destroyed your fleet in the Sea of Tears. I arrived over a year ago with Mikal Obanik. I have been advising Boric and coordinating with my fellow Rangers. Everything we have told you is true, General, but it is time to make your decision. If you will not surrender your troops, we will have to eliminate you and deal directly with your men.”

  “I am willing to let you and your men settle down in Karamin,” offered Boric, “or they will be allowed to travel to wherever they want, but they will disarm now. What is your decision?”

  “You leave me no choice,” sighed the general. “I will surrender my army.”

  Chapter 16

  Portals

  Colonel Taerin was on his way to the office of Emperor Jaar to pick up papers for filing. When he turned the corner of the corridor, he saw that the emperor’s door was uncharacteristically open. He slowed his approach as heated words escaped the office and glanced at the emperor’s guards who stood sentry outside the door. One of the guards shrugged as if to say that he had no idea what was going on. Colonel Taerin smiled and nodded at the guard and turned left into a smaller corridor before he reached the emperor’s door. The smaller corridor was part of the servant ways, and the colonel was very familiar with the network of narrow corridors. The corridor was short and turned another corner mere paces away from the sentries outside the emperor’s door. The colonel halted, his back against the wall as he tried to hear what was being said in the office.

  “Fabio?” Kyrga’s raised voice asked. “Sending Fabio is not a solution to the problem. He should only be needed if we planned to replace Vlador. That is not the situation we are facing. Calusa is under attack. We need to get reinforcements there immediately.”

  “And we will,” snapped another voice, one that Taerin had heard before but also one that he could not place at the moment, “but I think Vlador and Salaman both need to be replaced.”

  “Perhaps that is a discussion for after this current crisis,” suggested the emperor. “Let us focus on the current problem.”

  “Fine,” snarled the mysterious voice. “Order General Nazzaro to take the 31st into Karamin. That will both quell the revolt and put Salaman on notice. If there are Alcean Rangers in the area, we will have a chance to capture some of them and interrogate them.”

  “King Daramoor will not allow Nazzaro to remove all of the troops in Waxhaw,” objected Grand General Kyrga.

  “Daramoor has little say in the matter,” retorted the mystery man. “His patriot problem seems to have abated, so he should not need an entire army to protect him. If he objects, tell him that we are sending Tauman and the 1st Corps to Waxhaw. He can’t ask for better protection than that.”

  “Do we really send the 1st Corps?” asked Kyrga.

  “Yes,” replied the emperor. “This is precisely the reason we have kept the 1st Corps in Camp Destiny. They are well situated to reinforce any area of the Federation whenever we need it, and we need it now. Get orders off to Tauman that the 1st Corps is to leave for Waxhaw in the morning. Order Nazzaro to move the 31st Corps into Karamin immediately and then inform Salaman that help is on the way. See to it now, Grand General.”

  Suspecting that the Grand General might soon be looking for him, Colonel Taerin immediately moved away from the emperor’s office through the servant ways so that he would not be discovered eavesdropping. As Grand General Kyrga left the room, someone in the emperor’s room slammed the door shut.

  “Do we let the sentries listen in on our discussions now?” snapped Lord Kommoron.

  “Kyrga can be careless at times,” shrugged the emperor, “but the sentries are extremely loyal to me. They would not dare speak of anything heard in this room.”

  “Perhaps,” mused Lord Kommoron as he appeared to simmer down a bit. “This talk of Alcean Rangers troubles me. Even if it is a ruse to intimidate Salaman, it shows that someone among the Karaminian patriots knows far too much about Alcea.”

  “Worse,” offered Emperor Jaar. “If it truly is the Alcean Rangers attacking Calusa, it means that the Alceans have a portal of their own. That is something that we cannot allow the enemy to have. The portal must be found and destroyed.”

  “You suspect that it is not a ruse then?” frowned Lord Kommoron.

  “If the Alceans were to counterattack,” mused the emperor, “what better place to start than at the point farthest away from the bulk of our troops? Calusa is a backwater city at the end of civilization’s road. It is a place that should take us days or weeks to reinforce.”

  “Should?” echoed the noble. “What are you thinking?”

  “Should,” grinned the emperor. “I am going to do what you should have done months ago. I will call upon Feragyna and the host at the Black Citadel. By high sun tomorrow, we will have hundreds of battle mages in both Calusa and Waxhaw. If there are Alcean Rangers in the area, they will be destroyed before they can gain a foothold in Zara.”

  “And if there are no Rangers,” Lord Kommoron nodded in approval, “our black-cloaks will destroy the rebels completely. I like it. When will you go?”

  “I will not be going,” stated the emperor. “I can not risk altering my form while holding this disguise. Tonight I will get one of the battle mages from the armies here in Despair.” With a plan in place to attend to the current crisis, the emperor suddenly changed course. “When are you going to assume the throne? It was supposed to happen after the attack on Alcea.”

  Lord Kommoron sighed heavily. “The Badgers still have not found Jaar’s family. Besides, we need a victory over the Alceans before I can make the move. Our latest attack force should reach Tagaret soon, but the Badgers have proved to be a disappointment. I wonder if the black-cloaks might be needed to impress upon the Badgers the need for haste.”

  “Tread carefully,” warned the emperor. “Pitting two allies against each other may prove to be an unwise move. Feragyna and the Badgers have been working together recently.”

  * * * *

  Colonel Pfaff was delivering reports to King Daramoor when General Nazzaro stormed into the room. The King of Vinafor looked up with annoyance as the general strode across the room and stood staring down at the king.

  “Kyrga has ordered the 31st Corps to leave immediately for Calusa,” the general reported. “It seems that General Salaman has proved incapable of handling his rebels.”

  “The entire army?” balked the king. “I think not. I will not leave Waxhaw defenseless.”

  “He has already ordered the 1st Corps into Vinafor to provide for the defense of Waxhaw,” retorted the general. “I have no choice but to comply.”

  “Send a message back,” scowled the king. “Tell Jaar that I have forbidden you to leave this city until the 1st Corps arrives.”

  “If I might make a suggestion?” Colonel Pfaff offered softly. The king and the general immediately focused on the colonel, waiting to hear his thoughts. “I think that a confrontation with Despair would not be helpful in this situation. The rebels here in Waxhaw have disbanded since Major Pezzola died, or at least their recruitment has stopped. If we do have any rebels left in this country, they are surely not in Waxhaw, but probably cowering in the West Woods somewhere.”

  “What is your point, Colonel?” King Daramoor asked impatiently.

  “My point, King Daramoor, is simple,” smiled the colonel. “General Nazzaro can order his entire army to Calusa immediately, but stage their departure times for logistical reasons. He might, for example, send five thousand men in the morning, saving the other five thousand for rearguard protection. Should that rearguard dally until the 1st Corps arrived, General Nazzaro could hardly be faulted for making sure t
hat his supply lines remained open.”

  “An excellent suggestion,” General Nazzaro said with a nod. “I could send Colonel Rhio south with half the army and still remain here until Tauman arrives. Pfaff is correct in saying that there is justification for doing exactly that.”

  “Then the problem is solved,” sighed the king, “but I want everyone left in Waxhaw sniffing around for the rebels. I will not let this lessening of our troops be an invitation for them to start trouble.”

  “I will double our efforts in that regard,” promised Colonel Pfaff. “If the rebels still exist as a group, I will find them for you.”

  * * * *

  Dew squeezed through the hole in the secret door from the hidden valley of Camp Destiny to Tarashin. She gazed at the assembled dwarves and raised her tiny thumb high in the air.

  “The area is clear for the door to be opened,” she announced triumphantly. “The dwarves may now attack.”

  “I’m not sure this qualifies as an attack,” chuckled Frack. “It’s more like a walk in the woods.”

  “Don’t spoil the fairy’s fun,” retorted Rik. “If she says it’s an attack, then that is good enough for me.” Raising his voice so that the other dwarves could hear, he continued, “Alright you lazy ale drinkers, this is it. Once the door is opened, we remain silent until our mission is over. There will be no singing, and avoid any fighting if you can. Let’s get in and out without them ever knowing that dwarves have visited their little paradise. Door swingers will be going out first. Cliff climbers will follow. Last one out is to make sure that the door is closed tight. We’ll not be spoiling our own lair tonight.”

  Frack eased the secret door open. The sunlight streaked through the door, and the dwarves started filing into the hidden valley. Flying over the steady stream of dwarves were dozens of fairies, and once free of the confines of the dwarven mine, they darted off in all directions. Rik and Frack were the strongest runners in Tarashin. Because of their speed and endurance, they had been chosen for the longest jaunt in the valley. They ran northward along the western edge of the valley while Dew scouted ahead for them. Within an hour of entering Camp Destiny, the two runners had already left the rest of the dwarves far behind, and they still had many hours to go before they reached their destination.

  The runners settled into a semiconscious state, their legs mechanically propelling them onward. When dusk arrived, Rik and Frack settled down behind a thicket. They ate, drank and rested for a spell before rising and heading north once again. When they finally reached their destination, dawn was only a couple of hours away.

  * * * *

  Prince Darok, King Drakarik, Doryelgar and Floro sat around an unused fire ring. The forest around them was dark and the stars above were bright. King Drakarik looked up at the stars and sighed anxiously. He rose to his feet.

  “It is time,” the dwarven king announced. “Come on, lads. Let’s get moving.”

  The other three dwarves rose and joined the king. As if it were a prearranged signal, thousands of other dwarves rose to their feet and grabbed their weapons.

  “What about the bodies?” asked Prince Darok.

  “It’s a bit late to be asking that question,” chuckled the king. “Fear not, son of Dorgun. I have men lined up along the Blood River with nets. The humans in Valdo will never know about anything that happens up here in the mountains.”

  Prince Darok nodded and fell in alongside the King of Tarashin as the dwarves moved out of the cold camp and headed towards the entrance to Camp Destiny. The dwarves moved slowly and silently as they neared the enemy camp. The dwarven sentries posted to keep watch on the humans made way for the gathering dwarven horde. King Drakarik signaled for his best two archers to come forward, and they immediately appeared beside the king. The king placed his hand on one of the archer’s shoulders as his head swiveled to make sure that his forces were in position. He waited patiently as he watched the moving shadows. When he detected no further movement, he gently patted the archer.

  “Make the first shot count,” the king said softly. “We have no time for retries. Let me know when you are ready.”

  The two archers nocked arrows to their bows as did the rest of the horde. When they were ready, they softly informed the king.

  “Do it now,” the king said to the archers.

  Two arrows streaked out of the woods and two black-cloaks tumbled to the ground. Before the first Federation soldier could react to the attack, hundreds of arrows streamed into the small camp. Every standing soldier was killed in the initial onslaught, but the camp was still not secure. Hundreds of dwarves charged out of the forest, their battleaxes raised and ready for the second stage of the attack. They rushed the barracks where the other soldiers were sleeping. The snap of the bowstrings had awakened some of the sleeping soldiers and they raced out of the buildings, but they were unprepared for what awaited them. The dwarven battleaxes sliced through flesh and bone and then the dwarves entered the barracks and completed the annihilation of the small Federation camp. The dwarven leaders stood and stared at the gaping mouth of the tunnel leading into the hidden valley. With a nod from King Drakarik, Floro cast a vertical physical shield and placed it flush against the mouth of the tunnel.

  “How long can you hold it?” asked the king.

  “It will not be measured in time,” answered the Tarashin mage. “It will be measured by impacts. Each physical strike against my shield will weaken it. The harder the strike, the more severe the weakening. Have no fear. I will have advance notice of its weakening, and we have many mages to take my place.”

  “There is no magical shield in place,” commented Doryelgar. “That means that the black-cloaks can still cast magical spells out of the tunnel towards us. Should I put one in place now?”

  “Not yet,” answered King Drakarik. “There should be no black-cloaks coming our away until dawn, and they will be coming then because we summoned them. Rest while you can.”

  “Summoned them?” questioned the dwarven mage from Talman. “Why would we summon them?”

  “We want their mages in the tunnel when the real action starts,” King Drakarik replied with a mischievous smile. “The black-cloaks have the ability to spoil our surprise, but not if they are caught in the tunnel when the true attack begins. To summon the black-cloaks towards us, you will cast some offensive spells into the tunnel. That is sure to bring them running.”

  “Why wait for dawn?” asked Doryelgar.

  “So we can see those trying to come at us from another direction,” answered Prince Darok. “We are expecting them to fly over the peaks of the Barrier. We need for it to be light enough to see them. Relax until dawn, Doryelgar. You will surely need all of your strength at that time. The dawn will be the beginning of a very long day.”

  * * * *

  The Federation colonel rode eastward along the Southland-Tagaret Road. Baron Timor rode alongside him, and six warriors of the Army of the West rode behind him.

  “I can’t believe that you let me keep you jailed for so long,” said the baron. “Why didn’t you tell my men who you were?”

  “I had no idea where I was,” answered Colonel Donil. “Your guards refused to tell me even the name of the city I was being held in. Besides, if I said the wrong thing, I could have jeopardized General Forshire. As much as I wanted to get back to Zara, I would never put him in danger just to save myself.”

  “Your loyalty is noted and commended,” stated the baron. “Still, I feel somewhat guilty about your treatment. My men simply took you as another runaway. I will have to change the attitudes of my people when we get back. How much farther do we have to go?”

  “Not far,” answered Colonel Donil, “and we would be wise to start traveling silently. Other people could be using the portal.”

  “That is the reason for our trip,” the baron said softly. “When we get done, no one will be coming through it again.”

  The colonel nodded silently, and the small group moved onward without another word.
Colonel Donil had no trouble spotting the location of where the Federation army emerged from the forest. The foliage was torn and trampled, and the colonel turned off of the road and proceeded northward. He led the group in a slow ride through the forest and eventually waved for a halt. He dismounted and tied his horse to a tree. The others followed his example. Moving stealthily along the trail towards the hunter’s cabin, the colonel took care to keep to the shadows. When the cabin finally came into view, the colonel froze, his hand raised in warning. Coming towards the cabin from the other direction was a tall black figure.

  The demonkin halted at the doorway to the cabin, his head swiveling in an inspection of the area, as if he sensed intruders. Colonel Donil stiffened, General Forshire’s warning about the priests flooding into his mind. For a moment, he thought they had been discovered, but the priest seemed to lose interest in his search. K’san stepped through the doorway and disappeared from sight.

  “A demonkin,” hissed Baron Timor. “Dare we try to seize the door while he is in the cabin?”

  “He will not be in the cabin,” answered Colonel Donil. “The cabin is not large enough to interest the priest. He has gone through the portal, and I am going through after him.”

  “You must not, lad,” warned the baron. “You do not understand the powers of those creatures.”

  “I am not going to confront the priest,” explained Donil. “I am going because the demonkin presents the perfect distraction for me to return to Zara unnoticed. The attention of the sentries will be focused on K’san. I should be able to go through the portal and sneak out of the tent unseen.”

  “You are crazy, lad,” protested the baron. “Even if you enter the tent you described, you would be seen exiting it, distraction or no.”

  Colonel Donil smiled and gazed up at the sky. “Not exactly,” he said. “It is still nighttime in Zara, and I have slit one of the seams at the back of the tent.”

  “Even so,” argued the baron. “I am not authorized to send you back to Zara. And what good would it do to have you there? I am sure that Clint has already learned about the coming attack on Tagaret.”