Alutar: The Great Demon

by Tuttle, Richard S.

  “I am the Warrior King,” stated King Arik, “Your generals are dead. You will surrender right now, or you will die. There will be no further offer given. Any man holding a weapon will be killed. Once you have discarded your weapons, kneel.”

  Some of the Federation soldiers immediately threw down their weapons, but many did not. Many of the men first turned to gaze back at the command tent as if to verify the Warrior King’s claim. When they did, they saw the charging Men of Tor. Thousands of Federation soldiers threw their bows away and stabbed their swords into the ground. They swiftly knelt. Other soldiers were frozen by panic and fear. Some were stubbornly resistant to surrender. The Alceans could not distinguish between them. The Men of Tor shot any man standing, as did the Alcean regulars upon the wall. Sporadically, bolts of lightning lanced down out of the clear sky to strike Federation soldiers who tried to band together to continue the battle. In moments, it was all over.

  Chapter 32

  Homecoming

  Colonel Taerin walked across the lawn of the Imperial Palace in Despair. When the bench overlooking the harbor came into view, he saw a figure sitting on it. Hoping that it would be General Forshire, he hurried towards it. As he got closer, the figure stood up and turned around, locking his gaze on Colonel Taerin. Colonel Taerin sighed when he recognized Colonel Donil of the A Corps, but he continued towards the bench.

  “You are disappointed,” Colonel Donil said with a hint of a sympathetic smile. “I can hardly blame you. I wouldn’t mind seeing General Forshire myself right now.”

  “I did expect him to come,” admitted Colonel Taerin. “Have you had no word from him regarding the emperor’s family?”

  “I have had word from him,” Colonel Donil frowned, “but it makes no sense to me.”

  Colonel Taerin tensed with concern. “Out with it, Donil,” he demanded. “You know that I am anxious to learn of their safety.”

  “General Forshire said that the emperor’s wife and daughters are safe,” replied Colonel Donil, “but he will not bring them to Despair at this time. He said that if you were truly concerned, pose a question that only Janay could answer. He promised to speed the answer to you.”

  Colonel Taerin frowned and stared at the ground in front of the bench. He pondered what question could be sent that would prove that his mother was still alive. It had to be a question that she would have the answer to, but also one that others could not determine the correct answer. As all of the soldiers from the hidden estate were now dead, it could be anything that transpired there before he left for Despair, but what would he ask? Finally, it hit him.

  “When her son was ten years hold,” Colonel Taerin began, “he built something. What was it?”

  Colonel Donil appeared confused. He had expected Colonel Taerin to run to the emperor to get the question to ask, but the colonel posed a question of his own. If the question was meant to be a secret that only Janay could answer, how then could Colonel Taerin pose it without knowing the answer himself? It took only a moment for Donil to understand, and he inhaled sharply. Colonel Taerin immediately realized that he had slipped up. After years of guarding his identity, he had just inadvertently given it away because of his fear for his family’s safety. He sighed deeply as he mentally berated himself for his carelessness. He hurried to try to correct the situation.

  “I heard the emperor mention that his son was proud of his achievement,” Colonel Taerin lied. “Whatever it was that he built, the telling of the story was halted before he could finish it. Attempts to get him to complete the story proved futile, but I am sure that the answer to such a question will ease his mind. Surely, his wife will know the answer.”

  “Then the question will be put to her,” Colonel Donil replied. “You may expect an answer in a day or two.”

  “Then she is close by?” asked Colonel Taerin. “I would like to see her to verify her health.”

  “I truly do not know where she is,” stated Colonel Donil. “Were it up to me, Taerin, I would take you to her myself, but I have learned that General Forshire will let me know only what he thinks I need to know. I do not press him on his secrets, and I never divulge the secrets of my friends.”

  Colonel Taerin knew that Donil’s words were meant to include to him as well as General Forshire. He understood that Donil had not been deceived by his attempt to cover up the truth, and he was grateful that Donil was not pursuing the matter further. He nodded his thanks to the A Corps colonel. “Will you relay my desire to the general?” he asked.

  “I will,” promised Colonel Donil.

  The two colonels sat silently for a while, each of them pondering the implications of Colonel Taerin’s misspoken words. Colonel Taerin realized that he could not unspeak the words and decided to change the subject.

  “I have had men searching the palace grounds for the portal door since the tent collapsed in that flood,” Colonel Taerin said. “You didn’t happen to see where it went that night, did you?”

  “That was quite a flood,” Colonel Donil smiled inwardly. “I do think that I saw a door floating on the waters that night, but there was a lot of debris floating. Most of it flowed into the Sea of Tears with the floodwaters. Why would you want to find it? Are you looking for a way into Alcea?”

  “I have been ordered to find it,” answered Colonel Taerin. “Truthfully, I hope that it did float into the sea. Maybe that would be the end of the emperor’s follies into places where he does not belong.”

  “It would be a handy thing to have when the war between Alcea and the Federation is finally over,” smiled Colonel Donil. “I think you would enjoy a trip to Alcea, Taerin. I wouldn’t mind going back there myself when this is all over. Maybe we could go together.”

  “You are a dreamer,” chuckled Colonel Taerin. “Were you really that impressed with Alcea? I seem to remember that you told me that you were arrested and thrown into prison.”

  “I was,” laughed Colonel Donil, “but I wasn’t tortured. They thought I was a runaway enemy soldier, yet they treated me well enough, other than a crack on the head.” The A Corps colonel turned serious as he looked at the heir to the Baroukan throne. “I think that one could learn an awful lot on a trip to Alcea, Taerin. The Alceans are excellent warriors, yet they yearn for peace. They are a civil society where people of all classes and races have learned to live with one another. I hope that one day the countries of Zara will be the same as Alcea. Don’t you?”

  Colonel Taerin frowned. He knew that Donil was trying to sway him to the Alcean side, yet there was more in his words. There was a plea in those words for Taerin to rule benevolently when he came to power, and Taerin’s respect for the A Corps colonel grew because of the plea.

  * * * *

  The A Corps was three days into Tyronia when General Marashef and a regiment of the 32nd Corps showed up on the road to Ur. Clint had been expecting them.

  “Make camp,” General Forshire said softly to Colonel Magee, “and don’t forget that we are misfits.”

  Colonel Magee grinned and almost saluted the general, but he caught himself in time. He left to carry out the general’s orders while General Forshire sat astride Aeron in the middle of the road, waiting for General Marashef to come to him. When the Commanding General of Tyronia did arrive, his colonel ordered his men to set up a perimeter around the A Corps, similar to what the A Corps had done to the 31st Corps of Vinafor. A shiver ran up Clint’s spine as he wondered if the activities of the A Corps had somehow been detected.

  “Are you lost, Forshire?” quipped General Marashef.

  “Hardly,” General Forshire replied. “I have traveled this road many times. Are you heading for the pass, or did you ride out all this way just to greet me?”

  “I tend to take notice when an army enters my country,” General Marashef replied without humor, “even if it is an army of misfits. Why are you here?”

  “I am just following orders,” General Forshire replied.

  “I do not think so,” frowned General Marashef.
“I have had no word from Grand General Kyrga that he was sending the A Corps to Tyronia. What game are you playing?”

  “I do not take orders from Grand General Kyrga,” General Forshire replied. “I take my orders from Emperor Jaar.”

  General Marashef’s frown deepened. “Every general in the Federation takes orders from Grand General Kyrga,” General Marashef insisted. “Would you care to explain what you are talking about?”

  Clint glanced at the encampment and saw that his tent was already erected.

  “Come with me, Marashef,” invited General Forshire. “I do not care to discuss such things in the middle of the road to Ur.”

  General Forshire turned Aeron towards the tent, and General Marashef followed. The two generals dismounted and entered the tent. Two soldiers were inside setting up everything just the way the general liked it. With a nod from Clint, they immediately left the tent. Clint walked to the table in the center of the tent and sat down. He waved to the empty chair for General Marashef to join him. Once they were seated, Clint removed the Imperial proclamation from his pouch and handed it to General Marashef.

  “As you can see,” General Forshire said, “I am no longer under the command of Grand General Kyrga. I report directly to Emperor Jaar.”

  “Imperial General?” General Marashef said with surprise. “I have truly underestimated you, Forshire. And you were the one who held no desire for higher power. I believe those were your words?”

  “Times have changed,” Clint smiled tautly.

  “And why does the emperor want the A Corps in Tyronia?” asked General Marashef.

  “For two reasons,” replied General Forshire. “I am sure that you have already heard about the revolts in Karamin and Vinafor?”

  “I have heard the news from both sides,” scowled General Marashef. “The rebels sent messages detailing our losses in Alcea. I doubt that they are offering the truth, but the messages have had a depressing effect on some. What does that have to do with Tyronia?”

  “It is believed that Tyronia might be next,” answered General Forshire. “While the A Corps might be small and inexperienced, it does add to the number of Federation troops in Ur.”

  General Marashef nodded as Forshire’s words made sense. “And the other reason?” he asked.

  “I should think that would be obvious,” answered General Forshire. “I am still King Mectin’s replacement should something happen to him. It was thought that I should remain in Ur, just in case. The rebels will not be allowed to take over the country by merely assassinating Mectin.”

  General Marashef fell silent. He had taken a liking to taunting Forshire ever since he met him, but if King Mectin died, Forshire would become the King of Tyronia as well as the Imperial General of the Federation. It would not be healthy to have such a man as his enemy. That meant that either Forshire had to die, or Marashef had to get on his good side, if that was even possible.

  “I asked you into this tent,” Clint said softly, “because I did not want any of this to become common knowledge. I do not think that the emperor has even shared my orders with Kyrga, but I believe that I can share this information with you without fearing that it will go any further. Am I mistaken?”

  “No,” assured General Marashef. “I understand the need for secrecy. If King Mectin even got a hint that you were in Ur to replace him, he would become unmanageable.”

  “I truly have no desire to replace him,” chuckled General Forshire. “As you have noticed, I have changed a bit since leaving Ur. Tyronia no longer holds the allure for me that it once did. As soon as this current threat is over, I will be leaving Tyronia for the last time. I doubt that I will ever come back.”

  General Marashef raised an eyebrow. “King Mectin has no heir,” he pointed out. “Some day you will be required to return to Ur.”

  General Forshire frowned deeply. “I have no desire to be tied down to this country,” he declared. “If King Mectin dies while I am here, I will be obligated to take over, but I will not allow it to become permanent. I am sure that I can persuade Emperor Jaar to appoint someone else to become king. If you know of a likely candidate, let me know. I will mention it to the emperor when I return to Despair.”

  “Surely you know many Tyronians,” General Marashef responded.

  “I do,” replied General Forshire, “but none of them is as loyal to the Federation as I am, and I think loyalty to the emperor is paramount for the position. If I had to stand before the emperor today and recommend anyone, it would be you, Marashef. At least I know that you are loyal to Jaar. I cannot be sure of anyone else.”

  General Marashef’s eyes widened. While General Forshire’s words smacked of false flattery, Marashef could also see some truth in them. Since his first day in Tyronia, Marashef had not found anyone in Tyronia who truly held the emperor in high regard. While no one spoke openly against the emperor, neither did anyone speak favorably of him. The Tyronians had no love for the Federation, and General Marashef knew it, so Forshire’s words made sense. He wondered if Forshire was having fun with him, or if he would really recommend him to be the King of Tyronia. He decided not to offend Forshire until he learned the answer to that question.

  “I thank you for your confidence in me, Forshire,” General Marashef said with a smile. “I yearn to serve the emperor in whatever capacity he deems me worthy. If you will excuse me, I should make sure that my men are setting up our camp. Tomorrow we can ride together to Ur.”

  “Of course,” smiled Clint. “Get your men settled in and then join me for dinner.”

  General Marashef nodded as he rose. As soon as Marashef left the tent, Clint nudged his pocket to get Peanut’s attention.

  “Do you really think he will fall for that syrup?” quipped the fairy.

  “I don’t know,” admitted Clint, “but you are going to have a very busy night tonight. First, you will spy on Marashef and see what he says to his men, particularly his favored colonel. Second, once he is asleep, you are to go to Karl Gree in Ur. I want him to make sure that no pigeons arrive or leave Ur until I allow it. I have said some things that will not be verified if Marashef decided to check with Despair. Third, you need to check in with Donil. Be back by morning and you will be able to rest all day in my pocket.”

  “As if that is a reward,” griped the fairy.

  Clint laughed. “Okay,” he said, “then we will add to your list. When you meet with Donil, he should have a question that needs to be put to Janay in Herinak. Carry that question to Herinak and have someone ask her the question. Carry the answer back to Donil before returning to me. I will be in Ur by that time. By then my pocket will look very appealing to you.”

  “You are a cruel taskmaster, General Forshire,” retorted the little green man. “It’s a good thing I like working with you.”

  “We are a good team,” smiled Clint.

  “Indeed we are,” grinned Peanut. “If you will excuse me, General, this A Corps fairy has some spying to do.”

  * * * *

  Garth, Kalina and Prince Samuel entered the city of Valdo, capital of Spino. As he did in Farmin, Garth headed straight for the slums, although it was early enough in the day to avoid spending the night there. Instead, they rode slowly through the slums. Within ten minutes, a thief approached Garth and spoke softly.

  “Welcome back to Valdo, Garth Shado,” said the thief. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”

  “Indeed I am,” answered Garth. “I need to speak with Strangler. Can you take us to him?”

  The thief frowned as he looked at Garth’s hooded companion. “Would it not be better for him to visit you?” he asked.

  “Not this time,” replied Garth. “I will vouch for my party. See if Strangler will permit us to visit with him.”

  “Do not go far,” the thief said. “I will return shortly.”

  Garth and the others dismounted as the thief left. Garth put his back to the wall of one of the nearby buildings, and Kalina immediately joined him. Prince Samuel s
tood near the street, his eyes taking in everything as he slowly rotated to view the city of his birth. He was not happy with what he saw. Although the citizens of the slums were in far better shape than they were a year earlier, thanks to the Mage and his friends, Prince Samuel sighed with despair. Eventually, he also moved to the wall and placed his back against it.

  “I will have my work cut out for me,” he said softly. “Where do I begin?”

  “You cannot solve everything at once,” advised Kalina. “Do what you can every day and keep on doing it. I think you will find that after a while, you will have many people willing to help.”

  “Your first task is not to clean the slums,” warned Garth. “Your first task will to be to remain alive. There will be many people in this city who are not happy to see you return. Your sisters will be among them.”

  “They will have no standing to get in my way,” retorted the prince.

  “They will be first on the list of people who want you dead,” countered Garth. “Do not take them lightly because they are young. I have spoken to people who have dealt with them. They are as vicious as your mother could ever be. You will need protection every minute of the day.”

  “You do not sound optimistic about my chances of survival,” frowned the prince. “Will it really be that bad?”

  “I have five Rangers here,” replied Garth. “You will find some excuse to use them as your personal bodyguards. That in itself may cause you problems from some of the officers, but it cannot be avoided. The Rangers will keep you alive until you can command the loyalty of your people.”

  “What do you know of General Vladin?” asked Kalina.

  “He was only a colonel when I left Valdo,” answered the prince.