Alutar: The Great Demon

by Tuttle, Richard S.

  “The demonstone has been saved,” shouted Jong. “They will get it to the Forest of Death.”

  Seiko could barely hear Jong’s voice over the roar of the sand wall. He turned and found himself mere inches away from it. He leaped away and then turned to run towards the bow. Some black-cloaks joined him in a race to the bow, but others chose to take to the air in an attempt to save themselves. A few birds shot skywards, but some of the magicians never finished the conversion before the sand wall devoured them.

  “Many of the men won’t make it out of here,” Jong said softly to Seiko as they gathered at the bow. “They are too exhausted to transform and fly over the sand wall. Look at those who are already trying.”

  Seiko glanced skyward and saw a few birds circling, striving to catch an updraft of any kind. He knew that they would not find one. He shook his head and lowered his eyes.

  “Our mission is over,” Seiko said loudly. “You are free to return to the Black Citadel. I will see you there.”

  Without waiting for a response, Seiko transformed into a bird and shot skyward. The bird did not bother to look down at the maw and the disappearing ship. Instead it concentrated on the quickly narrowing window above it. Keeping to a tight spiral, the bird climbed above the towering walls and then glided away.

  * * * *

  General Forshire sat outside the office of General Hartz in the Imperial Palace in Despair. General Hartz was the commanding officer of the 3rd Corps which was the home guard of Despair and the Imperial Palace. He controlled the largest army in the Federation, which numbered over fifteen thousand men, and the traffic into and out of his office was busy. When the door to the office opened, a colonel walked out and disappeared down a corridor. The junior officer who sat at a desk in the anteroom looked at General Forshire and nodded that he could now enter the general’s office. Clint rose and moved through the doorway, closing the door behind him.

  “Forshire,” smiled General Hartz as he waved his visitor to a chair. “I have not seen much of you since the celebration. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today?”

  “I have a great concern about something,” General Forshire said vaguely, “but I need your vow of secrecy before I can discuss it.”

  The smile fell from General Hartz’s face. “I am not one for secrecy,” he frowned. “If it is something of a personal nature, I would think that there are others more suited than me to hear your problem. If it concerns the Federation, I can offer no vow of secrecy.”

  “Actually,” Clint frowned, “it concerns the Empire of Barouk more than the Federation. The Federation hardly exists any more.”

  General Hartz’s brow creased. “What causes a Tyronian general to have a concern about the Empire of Barouk?” he asked.

  “I am hardly a Tyronian general any more, am I?” questioned Clint. “I am the Imperial General of the Federation, whatever that is good for.”

  “I had heard rumors about that,” stated General Hartz. “So it is true then?”

  Clint nodded and produced his proclamation. He passed it across the desk to General Hartz, who read it and passed it back.

  “Emperor Jaar must have great faith in you, Forshire,” said General Hartz. “If you have a concern about the empire, you certainly have the ear of the emperor at your disposal. Why not take your concerns to him?”

  Clint did not respond, and General Hartz’s eyes widened in understanding. He started shaking his head.

  “I am sure that I do not wish to hear any more,” General Hartz stated firmly.

  “A lot of blood may flow over this,” Clint said vaguely. “It need not be that way.”

  “Look, Forshire,” scowled General Hartz, “I am loyal to the emperor, and I always will be. If my blood must flow to protect him, so be it.”

  “I would expect no less from a loyal general,” retorted Clint. “If I did not know of your loyalty, I would not be in your office today. I am willing to place my fate in your hands, but I am not willing to do so foolishly.” Clint rose as he said, “Perhaps coming here was the wrong option. I took you for a man who was reasonable and dedicated to the empire. I will trouble you no more.”

  Clint turned to leave the office, but General Hartz’s stern voice stopped him.

  “Sit down,” demanded General Hartz. “I will not allow you to impugn my loyalty and then allow you to simply walk out of my office. If you know of a threat to the Empire of Barouk, I demand to hear it.”

  Clint turned and stared at the other general. “I did not impugn your loyalty,” he stated defensively, “only your reason. I have no doubts about your loyalty, but your stubbornness to respect my request for privacy lessens your effectiveness at being loyal. Can a man be truly protective while wishing not to hear of potential threats?”

  “I am willing to hear your words, Forshire,” sighed General Hartz, “and I would stand prepared to act on them if I thought action was necessary, but I will not let your accusations remain unheard by my superiors if they are treasonous. I cannot offer you a vow of secrecy.”

  “Treasonous?” echoed Clint. “What would I gain from being treasonous against the Empire of Barouk? Is there some higher position I can gain for myself? I am already the Imperial General, on a par with Grand General Kyrga. What higher position is there for me?”

  General Hartz frowned. “Perhaps you seek gain for someone else,” he posed. “I do not know what you are about to say, Forshire, but I will know treason when I hear it.”

  “Would you?” retorted Clint. “To know if my words were treasonous, you would have to know the truth of whatever matter we spoke about. The problem, General, is that I am trying to bring certain truths to your attention precisely because you are not familiar with them. You can close your mind to those truths and label my actions as treasonous, but you would be wrong because you cannot see the truth.”

  General Hartz sighed again and waved Clint towards the chair. Clint sat back down.

  “You obviously believe that someone above me is not acting in the best interests of the empire,” General Hartz declared. “As only Grand General Kyrga and Emperor Jaar are above me, your words will threaten one of them. If you could make me believe your accusations, what in the world do you expect me to do about it? I am not going to attack either one of them based solely on your words. Do you have any proof of your allegations?”

  “I can offer you proof,” Clint stated, “but not here and not now. What I want from you, General Hartz, is to know that you will protect the heir.”

  General Hartz inhaled sharply. With Clint stating that he desired protection for the heir, he was also stating that there would be a need for the heir to step forward and declare himself. That was needed only when the emperor died.

  “If the emperor’s life is in danger,” scowled General Hartz, “You will tell me right now, or I will drag you before the emperor and gain his permission to force the truth out of you.”

  “He would not give you the permission,” Clint stated calmly as he drew the knife from his belt and shoved it across the desk towards General Hartz. “If that is truly what your reaction would be, you might as well just kill me now yourself.”

  General Hartz stared at the knife and then at Clint. His brow creased in confusion.

  “What exactly are you saying, Forshire,” he asked. “Why wouldn’t the emperor want the truth disclosed?”

  Clint sighed as he realized that he was already too deep into the discussion to leave unscathed. All that was left was to trust that his opinion of General Hartz was accurate.

  “The person you see as Emperor Jaar is not the true emperor,” Clint stated. “He is a black-cloak holding an illusion of the real emperor. If you were to bring me to his office and tell him what I said, he would not want me tortured by you because my words would not change. Instead, he would order my immediate execution.”

  General Hartz’s eyes widened in wonder. “How do you know this to be true?” he asked.

  “There are clues that can be seen by a
nyone,” answered Clint. “Emperor Jaar was right-handed, but the black-cloak often starts to sign a document with his left hand. Emperor Jaar was an early riser, but the mage sleeps in until the sun is high in the sky. If you have enough discussions with Emperor Jaar, you will discover that he has forgotten people and events that you would not think him capable of forgetting.”

  “That is hardly enough to support your theory,” groused the general.

  “I agree,” Clint replied, “but I have much keener knowledge of Emperor Jaar than most people. I have worked closely with him on several missions. That is why I carry the title that I do.”

  “I have wondered about that,” admitted the general. “Why would Emperor Jaar favor a Tyronian with such a title?”

  “Do you remember the unauthorized attack on Elfwoods?” asked Clint.

  “I recall hearing about it,” nodded General Hartz, “but mention of it died quickly. Why do you ask?”

  “That was my first mission for the emperor,” declared Clint. “I was chosen to investigate that incident. The reason I was chosen is precisely because I was an outsider. He did not know who to trust, but he knew that I would have had no opportunity to authorize such an attack. He tasked me to find who authorized the mission, and I did. I guess that gave him a certain level of trust in my loyalty to him.”

  “Understandable,” agreed General Hartz. “Who did authorize it?”

  “Let me answer that later,” Clint responded. “There are more important items to dwell upon. Do you remember how the emperor acted during the celebration?”

  General Hartz frowned and shook his head. “I do not recall much about his involvement in the celebration other than Grand General Kyrga getting great praise from Jaar. Is that supposed to be odd?”

  “Considering that Grand General Kyrga was the person who authorized the Elfwoods attack,” Clint smiled thinly, “I would say yes. I reported my results to the emperor on the first day of the celebration. He was livid, and he offered me Kyrga’s position. I turned it down as it would not have allowed me to keep the A Corps. Within hours of finding out that Kyrga had betrayed him, access to Emperor Jaar was cut off. Everyone was told to schedule visits through Kyrga.”

  “I do remember complaints about that,” frowned General Hartz, “but still, that is not proof.”

  Clint ignored the remarks and continued, “During the celebration, the emperor was brought into one of the meetings to calm the generals. On his way out of the room, he made eye contact with me and then dropped a piece of paper on the floor near my feet. This is the note he dropped.”

  Clint reached into his pouch and pulled out the note. He passed it across the desk. General Hartz frowned as he read the note. He passed it back to Clint. Clint took another piece of paper out of the pouch and passed it to the general.

  “I was able to sneak into the emperor’s bedroom one night,” Clint resumed. “He gave me those directions to his secret estate. I took some of my men out of the city and proceeded to the secret estate. I found one hundred bodies there, but the emperor’s family was gone.”

  “That makes no sense,” interrupted General Hartz. “If they had the emperor and his family, they would have killed them all.”

  “Unless the heir was not at the secret estate,” smiled Clint. “He was not there, and they have been unable to find him since.”

  General Hartz rubbed his chin and fell silent for a moment. “Why would they then kill Jaar?” he eventually asked.

  “They found out that he had someone helping him,” answered Clint. “They sent K’san to steal his memories so that they could discover who was helping and also the location of the heir.”

  “K’san?” General Hartz asked in confusion. “What does the priest have to do with this?”

  “The priests are demonkin,” declared Clint. “There was not just one K’san. There were many of them. I was in the emperor’s bedroom one night discussing what I had found out west. The demonkin entered, and I hid on the balcony. When K’san began pulling the emperor’s memories from his mind, I killed the priest. We could not afford for the usurpers to learn the identity of the heir. Once that priest was dead, the emperor knew that we had to move quickly. He proclaimed me to be the Imperial General so that I would not be under Kyrga’s command. He then ordered me to bring my army to Despair to free him from captivity.”

  “But you are not doing so,” frowned the general. “Why not?”

  “Kyrga had kept the emperor confined to his quarters,” answered Clint. “The very next morning as I was setting out to gather my army, the emperor appeared out on the grounds of the palace. He was not accompanied by anyone, not even his guards. He spoke to me casually and asked where I was going. I kept waiting for him to say something covertly to me, but he never did. General, he truly had no idea where I was going, and this was just hours after conspiring with me. Since that very day, the emperor has suddenly been given free reign again. What would you surmise from that?”

  “That he was truly not Jaar,” sighed General Hartz, “but that is still not enough to act on.”

  “I understand,” replied Clint, “and I am not asking you to act. My purpose in coming to you is to make you aware of the situation so that you can properly protect the heir. You need to be aware that the 3rd Corps and the A Corps are the only soldiers you can trust, and I am not sure how many of the 3rd Corps might see their allegiance to Grand General Kyrga as more loyal to the throne than allegiance to you.”

  “You seem pretty sure of the A Corps,” retorted General Hartz. “Aren’t most of those men former prisoners?”

  “Almost all of them,” replied Clint, “but I am sure of each and every one of them. They are fiercely loyal to me because I have treated them as soldiers. That is something that none of them received from their previous officers. If I ask them to protect the heir, they will place their lives on the line to do so. I have no doubts about that.”

  “Then I wish they were here,” sighed General Hartz. “The truth is, many of the men of the 3rd Corps would quickly follow Kyrga’s orders, and why shouldn’t they? The Grand General is the highest ranking member of the army.”

  “The A Corps is on the grounds,” smiled Clint.

  “I have not seen them,” frowned General Hartz.

  “They have been told to stay out of the way,” replied Clint. “Most of the other soldiers look upon them as misfits, and I guess in a way they are, but they are a well-trained force, General. There may only be two thousand of them, but not a one of them will allow harm to come to the heir should it come to fighting.”

  “I am sorry to say this, Forshire,” frowned the general, “but I would not let your men near the heir. Your story is believable, but you have offered no proof. I will have to determine who among my men will remain loyal to me. I will only involve those that I am sure of.”

  “I have a plan to offer you proof,” declared Clint, “but you need to be ready to act at that time.”

  “What possible proof can you offer?” scoffed the general.

  “The spell that the mage is using has a fault,” answered Clint. “If the black-cloak can be tricked into casting another spell, the façade will fail, and you will have a chance to see his real face. The problem that I see is that at that time, everyone will know that the fraud has been exposed. There will be a battle within the Imperial Palace for control of the empire. Kyrga, K’san, General Brennus, and every black-cloak will stand against you.”

  “Brennus, too?” asked the general.

  “And the entire 36th Corps,” nodded Clint. “If a sizeable portion of the 3rd Corps betrays you, the empire will be lost.”

  “This is something that we do not need right now,” sighed the general. “We have external enemies to deal with and you seek to foment a rebellion. Let it rest, Forshire.”

  “I can’t,” Clint replied. “The Alceans have enough strength to crush Despair and destroy the empire. That is something that the heir does not want to happen.”

  “You
know who the heir is?” gasped General Hartz.

  “I do,” declared Clint, “but do not even ask for his name. I have sworn not to reveal it.”

  “If your words are true,” offered General Hartz, “I would be a fool to refuse the help of the A Corps. Get me proof, Forshire. Without it, I will not act. In the meantime, I need to decide who in the 3rd Corps can be depended on to remain loyal to me.”

  Chapter 48

  The Throne Room

  Garth Shado drove the elegant carriage through the gates of the Imperial Palace in Despair. Inside the carriage were Lord Kimner, Lord Zachary, and Lady Zachary. When the carriage reached the bottom of the steps leading to the main entrance of the palace, Garth brought the team of horses to a halt. He hopped off of the driver’s seat and opened the door to the passenger compartment. Lord and Lady Zachary stepped out and looked around. Garth then ran to the rear of the carriage and unstrapped a special chair with wheels. He carried it to the top of the steps and set it down. He then returned to the carriage and lifted Lord Kimner out of the passenger compartment. He carried the old man up the steps and gently set him down in the chair. By the time the visitors were assembled before the doors of the Imperial Palace, Colonel Taerin had appeared.

  “Lord Kimner, you honor us with your presence,” the colonel said sincerely. “How may I serve you?”

  “I wish to speak with Emperor Jaar,” Lord Kimner stated. “It would also be advisable for all four of your generals to be present, as what I have to say may affect the current situation in Despair. Please arrange the throne room for this meeting.”