Alutar: The Great Demon

by Tuttle, Richard S.

  “So that is his name,” grinned the Federation colonel. “It suits him. Baron, I was posted at the Imperial Palace in Despair to spy for General Forshire. I am the only member of the A Corps with a reason to be on the grounds of the palace. I must go back and fulfill my duties. I am of use in Zara, but not here in Alcea. Please get word to Clint that I am back at my post at the Imperial Palace.”

  “But you have been gone for days,” retorted Baron Timor. “Your absence must have already been noted.”

  “Not true,” countered the colonel. “Only one man in the entire palace would notice my absence, and he helped me come here. I will be fine, Baron. After I go through, waste no time thinking about me. Seize the portal and make sure that it cannot be used again, and do it quickly. The demonkin might need to return to Alcea.”

  Without waiting for a response, Colonel Donil moved forward. The others followed. The colonel entered the small cabin and walked to the portal. He cracked the door open and peered into the tent. He could see nothing but a slight slash of light coming through the door he held open. If the black priest was lurking on the other side of the door, Colonel Donil would die, but he was determined to return to his post. He opened the door just wide enough to squeeze through. He slipped into the tent and quickly closed the door. As he stood in the dark letting his eyes adjust to the dimness, he realized that there was no going back now. Either he managed to slip out of the tent unseen, or he would be tortured by the palace guard.

  As the colonel stood in the darkness, soft voices came from the front of the tent. He realized that the priest had already left the area, and that the guards were talking about him. With no time to waste, Donil moved to the torn seam and dropped to the ground. He cautiously stuck his head out of the tent and scanned the grounds, but it was too dark to see anyone. Throwing caution aside, he inhaled deeply and crawled out of the tent. Moving directly away from the tent, he made the relative safety of some hedges and let out his held breath as he turned to stare back at the tent area. Feeling as though he had returned unobserved, he gasped as he turned around and saw a Federation colonel before him.

  “Donil?” questioned Colonel Taerin. “How did you return?”

  Colonel Donil breathed a sigh of relief, but it took a few moments for his trembling body to simmer down. “Don’t scare me like that,” he said softly. “Did anyone else see me arrive?”

  “I didn’t even see you arrive,” answered Colonel Taerin. “I was merely strolling around the grounds when I noticed someone near these hedges. Come. Let’s retire to the bench and discuss your journey.”

  The two colonels retreated to the bench by the waterfront and sat down.

  “The portal goes to Alcea,” revealed Colonel Donil. “Emperor Jaar is making another attempt at sacking Tagaret.”

  “General Forshire already told me as much,” frowned Colonel Taerin.

  “How did he know?” asked Colonel Donil.

  “He went through the door,” answered Colonel Taerin. “He stayed only long enough to confirm his suspicions. He had come to Despair looking for you, but when he came back through the portal, he was in a hurry to leave. I feel as if I am missing a large part of this puzzle. Do you know what is going on?”

  Colonel Donil looked at the other colonel for a moment before answering. “I like you Taerin,” he eventually said, “but I am not sure how safe it is to share information with you. As it stands now, we are at odds with one another. I wish that were not true, but it is. What is it that you need to know?”

  “If the Federation’s massive attack has failed as dramatically as I have been led to believe by General Forshire,” Colonel Taerin began, “why in the world would Emperor Jaar be sending another army there? And why only twenty-thousand men?”

  “The Alceans knew about the first invasion,” answered Colonel Donil. “They had time to plan a reception for the Federation armies. This time the emperor hoped to act in secret. That is why even you were prohibited from entering the tent. No one was to know that these armies were being sent to Alcea.”

  “So General Forshire’s intelligence foiled the first invasion?” asked Colonel Taerin.

  “His and others,” nodded Colonel Donil. “I am not privy to all of the information that the Alceans gathered in their time here, but they seem to be very good at finding out secrets.”

  “But the information alone could not possibly result in such a catastrophic defeat as I have been told,” Colonel Taerin shook his head. “The Alceans were still vastly outnumbered.”

  “And underestimated,” agreed Colonel Donil. “I think the Federation has consistently underestimated the Alceans. I suspect that they still are.”

  Colonel Taerin gazed out at the sea as the sky began to lighten. He mulled Donil’s words and began to wonder where his own loyalties resided. He knew that he did not care for sending more troops to attack Alcea, but how should he react to Alcean troops attacking Zara? It was his homeland after all.

  “What do you know about the Alcean Rangers?” Colonel Taerin asked. “Could they possibly be present in Karamin?”

  Colonel Donil’s gaze narrowed as he stared at the other colonel. Finally, he decided to push Taerin to see where he stood.

  “I am not privy to any of Alcea’s secrets,” he declared, “but if the Rangers are in Karamin, then Karamin will be leaving the Federation soon. There is no finer fighting force than the Alcean Rangers. It is getting close to the time for you to make a decision, Taerin. Are you a lackey of the Federation, or are you a Baroukan? Soon it will not be possible to be both. Where do you stand?”

  Colonel Taerin bit his lower lip and shook his head gently. “I do not know, Donil. I really do not know. I love the Barouk that existed under Jaar’s father, but I also love the Federation that was started by Jaar’s father. Neither of them seem to be what they once were. Is it possible to love your country and still wish to see it fall under the boots of another?”

  “I don’t know, Taerin, but that is not how I see it. I see Alcean boots on the neck of the Federation, but I see their helping hands stretched out to the countries that have suffered under the likes of Emperor Jaar. I guess that is the difference between the two of us. I see the Alceans as liberators, and you are still seeing them as conquerors. You need to travel to some of the cities of this great Federation and see the misery and despair that the people live in. It is not something that an officer should be proud to be a part of.”

  Chapter 17

  Camp Destiny

  When the first rays of sunlight splashed upon the eastern face of the Barrier, Doryelgar stared into the black maw of the tunnel leading to Camp Destiny. With a nod from King Drakarik, the dwarven mage sent a series of fireballs streaming into the darkness. He watched as the glowing orbs grew smaller and smaller until they vanished from sight. He felt the vibrations of his spells and envisioned the fiery balls impacting the floor of the tunnel. He wondered how the battle mages on the other side of the mountain would react.

  Those black-cloaks within Camp Destiny reacted swiftly and with alarm. Shouts of attack rang out through the huge campsite of the 1st Corps, and General Tauman arrived almost immediately.

  “What is it?” the general demanded.

  “Someone is using battle magic within the tunnel,” the head of the black-cloaks replied excitedly. “Our sentries might be retreating from an attack on the small camp.”

  “Your mages were supposed to stand their ground, Cirrus,” scowled the general. “They are the early warning of an attack. If they have retreated into the tunnel and yielded the mouth to the enemy, I will have them hanged. Get some men into that tunnel and determine the situation.”

  “We could use some archers to help,” stated Cirrus.

  General Tauman glanced at the tunnel entrance and saw Colonel Dorfan already sending archers into the tunnel. He nodded with approval.

  “The archers are already being sent to the defensive slits in the tunnel wall,” he declared. “I will assign another squad of archers
to your detail. Now get moving.”

  The 1st Corps had a larger than normal complement of black-cloaks, and the head of the detachment gathered over a dozen battle mages to investigate the disturbance. General Tauman watched the group depart and then rode over to speak with Colonel Dorfan.

  “Send a squad of archers with the mages,” the general instructed. “The mages seem to be afraid of the dark.”

  Colonel Dorfan nodded with a smirk on his face and turned to give the order to a nearby squad. When the archers were dispatched, the colonel turned back to the general.

  “Should I sound the alarm?” asked Colonel Dorfan.

  “All of the men have already assembled here for the trip to Waxhaw,” mused the general, “but it couldn’t hurt. Sound the alarm and then get the men into a defensive position. I can’t imagine any army fighting its way into this valley, but we will be prepared just in case.”

  “Who do you think it is?” asked the colonel as he signaled a runner to sound the alarm.

  General Tauman stared at the entrance to the tunnel for a moment before responding. “Anyone could take out the one hundred men we have stationed at the other end of the tunnel,” he eventually said, “but it would take a massive army to survive the trip through the tunnel. The beauty of the outpost is that it allows us all the time in the world to prepare to meet the enemy. What concerns me is that we should not have such an enemy here in Zara.”

  “Unless the horse countries found a way through the Forest of Death,” mused Colonel Dorfan.

  “No,” the general shook his head. “Even if they did find a way through that infernal forest, they would not be attacking us here. They would seize Olansk and march south on Giza.” The general’s brow creased deeply and he stared blankly through the colonel. He shook his head and continued, “Or maybe they would attempt to seize Tyronia. Now that would make sense. Adding another nation to the Occan fold would make them better prepared to defend against the Federation, but I still cannot imagine such a scenario. More likely, someone is trying to keep us boxed up in this hidden valley.”

  “So we can’t respond to Waxhaw’s needs?” questioned the colonel.

  “Exactly,” nodded General Tauman. “It would not take a great force to block the tunnel for a few days, but why would our black-cloaks flee from such a rabble as the Vinaforan rebels?”

  “They fear archers,” offered the colonel as blaring horns started sounding the alarm. “Perhaps they sought the safety of the tunnel to preserve their lives.”

  “Perhaps,” scowled the general, “but they will lose their lives if that is the case. I will not stand for cowardice among my men. Have all of the Despair pigeons been loaded for transport yet?”

  “They have,” answered the colonel. “Are you thinking of sending a message about our situation?”

  “Despair needs to be notified if we are indeed under attack,” answered General Tauman, “but I also feel compelled to offer my thoughts on other matters. Get me one of the pigeons. I will be in my tent.”

  The colonel turned and departed. General Tauman turned his horse and rode back to his tent. Men were already surrounding the tent with the intent of breaking it down and loading it for transport. He ordered them to stop and dismounted. He entered the tent and sat on a crate, pulling another crate close to him to use as a table. By the time Colonel Dorfan arrived with the pigeon, the general had his thoughts down on paper, but he still needed to wait for a report from the tunnel before sending off his note. He handed the note to the colonel to read.

  “You think the rebels in Karamin and Vinafor are working in concert?” questioned Colonel Dorfan.

  “It is a hunch,” nodded the general. “If I were to plan a revolt in Calusa, I would expect Federation reinforcements from Waxhaw. Would it not make sense then to contact the rebels in Waxhaw and have them revolt at the same time? Would it not also make sense that Vinafor would expect reinforcements to come through Ramaldi Pass?”

  “It makes perfect sense,” frowned the colonel, “but how would any of the rebels know about Camp Destiny? Many of our own Federation forces were not aware of this camp until the invasion of Alcea.”

  “Quite true,” nodded the general, “and we know how well that invasion went. The Alceans had to have received intelligence from someone highly placed in the Federation army. That same person could easily have supplied our location to the rebels.”

  “You suspect someone, don’t you?” inquired the colonel. “I can see it in your eyes.”

  “General Forshire,” spat General Tauman. “Something about that man has bothered me from the day we met. He may have Emperor Jaar and Grand General Kyrga fooled, but Forshire is a man of ambition. He is not the type of man to be content leading a small band of misfits.”

  “He is supposed to be the backup for King Mectin of Tyronia,” frowned the colonel. “If he is as devious as you think, wouldn’t he be trying to seize power in Tyronia?”

  “I am sure that is on his agenda,” replied the general, “but I suspect he wants even more than that. If he is in league with the rebels of Vinafor and Karamin, he may be trying to carve out a kingdom consisting of all of the lands west of the Barrier. I will almost guarantee that it is the A Corps boxing us up in this valley.”

  A runner threw open the tent flap and raced inside. He ignored the glare of General Tauman and saluted while he tried to regain his breath.

  “It is dwarves,” he blurted out.

  “What is dwarves?” scowled General Tauman. “What are you talking about?”

  “Dwarves hold the far end of the tunnel,” the runner explained, “and they have mages among them. There is an invisible shield across the mouth of the tunnel. Not even an arrow can pierce it. The black-cloaks cannot cast spells beyond it, either. What are your instructions?”

  General Tauman stared at the runner as if the man had gone crazy. For several long moments, he said nothing. Eventually, he looked the runner in the eye.

  “You saw these dwarves with your own eyes?” he asked.

  “I did, General,” answered the runner. “They are grotesque beasts, and their battleaxes are large enough to cleave a horse in two, but they are not attacking. They are just standing on the other side of the invisible shield, and they are…”

  The runner halted, and the general’s face grew red with anger.

  “Out with it,” he commanded. “What are they doing?”

  “They are laughing at us, General,” the runner replied. “They are just standing there laughing at us.”

  General Tauman stood, tearing his message from the colonel’s hands. He tore the message up and tossed the shreds to the floor. For several minutes he paced the floor of his tent, trying to make sense out of what he was hearing. Dwarves in Zara had been extinct for over four hundred years. That left only the dwarves in Alcea, but how could they have traveled to Zara unless the Alceans had portals of their own. And if the Alceans had portals, it would not only be dwarves coming to Zara, but others as well. Suddenly the general remembered the message from Despair. It had made an off-hand comment about Alcean Rangers in Calusa. Tauman had brushed that aside as unlikely, but now he wondered. If Alcea had sent dwarves to Zara, an attack by the Rangers made more sense. He started to ponder where the Red Swords might be, but shouts from outside the tent distracted him. He looked towards the tent flap expectantly. The flap flew aside and a sergeant raced into the tent.

  “We have a problem, General,” the sergeant said excitedly. “We have water flowing into the camp from the west.”

  “Water?” frowned the general. “Since when is a little water a problem for the 1st Corps?”

  “Not a little water, General,” the sergeant replied. “It is a lot of water. It is as if a dam has burst. There is a wave rolling towards us.”

  The general raced outside and stared to the west. In the distance he could see the deluge approaching. He knew immediately what had happened.

  “Dorfan!” the general shouted. “Get everything off the g
round. Get every available man to build a semicircular berm around the tunnel entrance. It has to protect an area large enough to hold the entire 1st Corps.”

  “A berm?” questioned the colonel.

  “A berm,” repeated the general. “They are trying to flood us. As soon as you get the berm started, gather every available mage. Someone has managed to infiltrate the valley and open a large number of portals to Alcea.”

  “But that will flood the entire valley,” gasped the colonel. “A berm will never stop it.”

  “The berm is to give us enough time to defeat those dwarves blocking us in here,” retorted the general. “Get it started now!”

  Colonel Dorfan took off at a run. General Tauman returned to his tent and hastily scribbled a new message for Despair. Just as he was finishing up the message a black-cloak entered the tent.

  “You sent for me?” asked Cirrus.

  “I sent for more than just you,” snapped the general. “I have tasks for your people, and they need to be addressed immediately. The first task is to get enough mages across the valley to shut the portals before we all drown. Secondly, I want the shields those dwarves are holding to be destroyed. We need to get men outside the tunnel to start pushing the dwarves back.”

  “Their shields are impressive,” frowned the black-cloak. “We have been battering them with everything we can think of, but they do not even seem to be weakening. I suspect that they have a host of mages out there reinforcing each other’s spells.”

  “Then get some mages over the mountains to attack them from behind,” ordered General Tauman. “Unless your magic works well underwater, it will soon be worthless unless we either get those portals closed or the tunnel opened.”

  “I will see to it,” promised Cirrus.

  The black-cloak retreated from the tent and called for his mages to assemble. Before his men could respond, the wave hit, toppling soldiers and mages alike. Cirrus managed to maintain his footing, but many of his fellow mages were completely soaked when they reported in. Cirrus shook his head in disgust.