“Right,” the short soldier replied sarcastically. “A lowly corporal knows better than the generals. And what makes you so all-knowing?”
“My brother was a member of the advance team sent over there,” answered Zack. “He told me what he saw in Alcea, and he told me that we would never be going there. He can’t believe that the generals are sending us into this.”
“Your brother is probably as much of a coward as you are,” scowled the scarred man.
“I thought the advance team just left a short while ago,” the short soldier said suspiciously. “How could you have already talked to your brother about it?”
“My brother spent a year in Alcea,” answered Zack. “This latest advance team is not the first. We have been sending people over there for three years that I know of. Did you really think we would be mobilized to invade a land that we have never seen? I didn’t say the generals were stupid. I just said that my brother cannot imagine that we are actually invading Alcea. Our losses will be unimaginable.”
“Why?” asked the short soldier. “What is so tough about the Alceans?”
Zack noticed that other conversations had died out and most of the soldiers in the tavern were covertly listening to the conversation.
“Alceans are warlike in nature,” answered Zack. “Their whole culture is based on crushing their opponents ruthlessly, and they have centuries of practice in doing it. Every man over there is a warrior. They have no use for anyone who can’t fight. That makes their armies huge and experienced. When is the last time any of you have been in battle?”
“We know how to fight,” retorted the scarred soldier. “You are just trying to scare us because you are afraid to go.”
“I didn’t have to volunteer my fear,” Zack pointed out. “I could have kept my mouth shut and just listened to you two talk boisterously about how you are going to crush an opponent that you know nothing about. The Alceans don’t fight like you and I do. They are barbarians. They are not just content to beat their opponents. They take pleasure in making them suffer before they kill them. They mutilate the dead and feast upon their bodies. They have tricks that you could not even imagine.”
“Like what?” asked one of the soldiers at the next table.
“My brother heard of one group that painted their bodies black and buried themselves. They did this right where they knew the enemy would camp. In the middle of the night, they dug their way out and slaughtered the whole camp while they slept. When the relief column arrived three days later, all that was left were gnawed-on bones and ashes. They even ate the horses.”
The soldiers across the table grimaced in disgust, but Zack continued.
“They have also been known to leap out of trees when you least expect it and strike before scampering away. They are impossible to pursue because they know the terrain as an attacking army never could. They poison the game and wells so that foraging will not aid the attacking army. They even burn entire forests to trap an advancing army in an inferno of death. They do not stand and fight like men.”
Zack could see inklings of uncertainty in the soldiers and he continued before he could be interrupted.
“What they do to scouts in disgusting. They go far beyond torturing the scouts to get information out of them. They seem to take great pleasure in seeing how long they can keep their victims alive. One scout was even kept alive as they were eating him.”
“That is disgusting,” scowled the scarred soldier. “I will take great pleasure in killing such beasts.”
“If you can,” shrugged Corporal Fabel. “Just hope that you don’t get sent to Lanoir. They have an army that exceeds the strength of the whole Federation. It is over three hundred thousand men. They can afford to throw men into battle and suffer larges losses.”
“That just makes it an even fight,” said a soldier at another table.
“It does,” Zack smiled thinly, “if we were only going to fight the Lanoirians. There are three other provinces, and each of them has an army half the size of Lanoir’s.”
“Your words make no sense,” frowned the short soldier. “If the generals knew all this, they would not be sending us over there.”
“That is what my brother thought,” frowned Zack, “but it looks like he was wrong. I guess the riches of Alcea are too tempting to pass up. They are a fabulously wealthy nation if we can manage to subdue them. There certainly would be plenty of food for everyone. Of course, even if we lose the war, there will be more food available in Zara because of our losses over there. Maybe it is a win-win situation for the Federation.”
Bork moved across the room and stood next to Zack’s table. “We have to leave, Corporal Fabel. The colonel was precise about our arrival time.”
Zack and Cobb rose quickly. Zack nodded to the two soldiers he had shared the table with and then promptly left the tavern. They moved quickly away from the tavern and didn’t speak until they were back in the room at the inn.
“Do you think they will buy all that?” asked Cobb. “A lot of it sounded rather far fetched.”
“They will not believe it tonight,” answered Zack, “but we are not done spreading the word. Rumors of what I said tonight will get around, and I will speak to other groups of soldiers and spread more tales. Given enough time, the stories will take on a life of their own. It will be a slow process, but soon there will be three of us spreading the stories. Remember, the soldiers do not have to believe all of the tales. We only have to create uncertainty in them. The fear of the unknown can do that, and I intend to exaggerate it until the average Federation soldier begins to doubt his officers. If we can accomplish that, every unconventional attack in Alcea will ripple through their ranks and multiply their fears. That is our goal.”
* * * *
Alexander Tork and Adan, King of the Gypsies, stood on the side of the road that ran from Danver Shores to Tagaret. Up ahead of them was a bridge that spanned a gorge. The river that flowed through the gorge was not a mighty river, but over the ages it had eaten away the soil to create an impassible defile without the aid of a bridge.
“Taking out that bridge would certainly slow them down,” stated Adan. “You have to go leagues upstream before you can find a decent ford, and downstream is nothing but swamp.”
“They will have engineers with them,” replied Alex. “The loss of the bridge might slow them down for two or three days, but we need more time than that. There is also a problem of timing. As this is the only bridge between Danver Shores and Tagaret, we must not destroy it until just before their army needs it, and we will have little advance notice of their invasion.”
“And the loss of the bridge would also hinder any of our troops coming down here to attack the Federation soldiers. It was just a thought.”
“It is a good thought,” replied Alex, “but I think we need to do better. I don’t want to just slow down this army. I want it taken out of the war. King Arik is going to have his hands full with the other two prongs of the invasion. He needs to fight them one at a time if he is to have any chance of surviving.”
“How large is this army from Danver Shores going to be?”
“Twenty-thousand men. Around four-thousand of them will be mounted. The rest will be infantry. And there are similar armies coming from Miram and Mya.”
“I am beginning to see the scope of the problem,” sighed Adan.
“Danver Shores has the closest set of Doors to any of our major cities. The armies that come through those Doors can be in Tagaret within five days. Whatever we decide to do, it has to be something that can be done quickly and something that will delay their army for a long period of time.”
“Then this bridge will not do the trick,” Adan said decisively, “at least not by itself. Let’s ride back towards Danver Shores. Maybe we will spot something else.”
The two Alceans turned around and rode southward towards Danver Shores. Alex’s eyes constantly scanned the terrain they rode through.
“Have you ever been in that swamp?�
� Alex asked as he nodded to his left.
“I have,” laughed the gypsy. “It was a terrible experience. For twenty years I ran my wagons up and down the coast, including the area where that swamp now resides, but that was under the Darkness. The land was always a little damp, but easily passable. After King Arik cleared the skies, that changed, but I didn’t know it. Just before the Battle of Tagaret, I was bringing my people northward to aid in the defense of the city. I decided to stay off the roads in case Sarac’s people had spies out. That was a mistake.”
“You discovered a real swamp where one had not existed?”
“Yes. At least it had not existed for twenty years. Some of the older gypsies told me that the swamp existed in earlier times, but they spoke only after our wagons were axle deep in muck. We lost days and days struggling through the swamp, and my people knew all of the trails from prior trips. If we had not had such knowledge, we would have had to abandon our wagons. As it was, we did not arrive at Tagaret in time to enter the city.”
“Yet your people helped greatly in that battle,” smiled Alex. “You killed most of the yaki.”
“With myric quills.” Adan nodded. “Tedi told us about them and taught us how to harvest them. We still carry a supply of quills with us to this day. I have never seen a more potent poison.”
“Or a faster acting one,” replied Alex. “The victim does not even have time to cry out. Take me into the swamp, Adan. I want to see what it is like today.”
“It is impossible to get far into it from here,” replied the gypsy. “Closer to Danver Shores there is an old trail that splits off from this road. We will enter the swamp there.”
Alex nodded in agreement, and the two men continued riding south. By the time they reached the turnoff, the sun was beginning to set. Adan led the way into the swamp on a well-developed trail. Less than a league into the swamp, Adan halted at a rickety old bridge.
“It is getting too dark to see much,” Adan said, “but this should give you a decent idea of what the swamp is like. It is even more wet than when I was last through here. I doubt that I could get my wagons through it any more.”
“Are there more bridges?” asked Alex.
“No,” answered Adan. “This is the only place that the ground is firm enough for one. Anywhere else and the timbers would just sink into the muck. The trail is fairly high and dry for a couple of leagues beyond the bridge, but it just suddenly ends. Other than that, there are small trails that one can take through the swamp, but they are almost impossible to find.”
“But your people know where they are?”
“Most of them. We camped for months in this area before the waters reclaimed the swamp. What are you thinking?”
“I am thinking that you need to take a trip to Lavinda,” smiled Alex. “I will arrange for a unicorn so the trip does not keep you away from your people for long. Let us set up camp and discuss what I have in mind.”
Chapter 18
Missing
Hundreds of Red Swords ringed the palace gardens in Tagaret. More soldiers stood guard atop the walls that separated the Royal Palace from the rest of the city. In the darkness of the night, they were barely visible. The cool night air of autumn swept through the gardens occasionally blowing leaves free of their tenuous hold to flutter down among the hedges and flowers below. Several torches ringed a small spot of the cemetery in the gardens, and thirteen Knights of Alcea stood silently nearby. Six Red Swords carried a coffin out of a storeroom and solemnly set it down near a freshly dug grave. No one spoke as the six Red Swords quietly retreated behind the Knights of Alcea. When the silence continued for several minutes, King Arik’s brow creased. He turned and stared at the path that led towards the storeroom. After several more minutes of silence, the king turned towards the Red Swords who had carried the coffin.
“What is Niki doing?” he asked the soldiers.
The Red Swords frowned in confusion.
“I do not understand the question,” one of the soldiers eventually answered. “Were we supposed to bring her here?”
“Well you certainly weren’t supposed to leave her in the storeroom,” the king replied tersely.
“She was not in the storeroom,” replied the soldier. “No one was there.”
“She must be in her room,” offered Natia. “I explained to her that spending night and day near the coffin was not healthy for her.”
“I will get her,” offered one of the Red Swords.
The king sighed heavily and nodded. The Red Sword ran off to find Fredrik’s widow. The minutes dragged on and on, and the king began to feel agitated by the delay. Queen Tanya gently placed her hand on the king’s arm and whispered in his ear. The king sighed again and nodded. More minutes passed before the Red Sword finally returned. Niki was not with him.
“I cannot find her,” he reported. “I searched everywhere.”
“Obviously, you didn’t search everywhere,” scowled the king. “Take all of your men and find her.”
The Red Sword saluted and waved for the other soldiers to follow him. Once they were out of sight, the queen tried to whisper in the king’s ear again, but the king angrily stepped away.
“What is bothering you, Arik?” asked Jenneva. “I have never seen you this agitated.”
When the king didn’t respond, Queen Tanya filled the void. “Arik has not been sleeping well. He spends the night pacing his sleeping chamber while he tries to figure out how to reach the gods.”
“I can imagine that the loss of a good man does nothing to soothe his mood,” Alexander added softly.
King Arik turned to glare at Alex, but the warrior had been expecting him to do so. Alex’s hand reached out and rested firmly on the king’s shoulder. He smiled compassionately at Arik.
“There is nothing you could have done to prevent Fredrik’s death, Arik. Sometimes there are losses in battle that we all grieve deeply for, but no one here is your enemy. You are among the best friends a man could ever hope for whether he be king or pauper.”
The king’s glare disintegrated, and he sighed deeply and nodded. “I can’t help it. Fredrik has always stood in the shadows and protected me. I shouldn’t have had him on the back of that carriage.”
“There isn’t a person here who would not stand in harm’s way for you, Arik,” stated Natia. “That is what the Knights of Alcea are all about. Never blame yourself for putting us in harm’s way. That is the reason for which we exist.”
“If you tried to protect us from harm,” added Wylan, “we would feel useless.”
Tedi nodded in agreement. “You feel grief for Fredrik, but how do you think all of us would feel if it was you in that coffin? Each and every one of us would feel as if we had failed you in some way.”
The sound of running footsteps caught everyone’s attention. They turned to see one of the Red Swords running towards them. The soldier halted in front of the king.
“Niki has not been in her room in days,” he reported. “The guards there thought she was still in the storeroom, so I checked with the gate guards. Niki left the grounds of the Royal Palace two days ago. There is no record of her ever returning.”
“Two days ago?” frowned Natia. “That is when I told her to return to her room. She appeared to have accepted my argument. This makes no sense.”
“Why would she leave?” asked Prince Garong. “Would she really plan to miss the funeral?”
Actually,” Tedi offered softly, “it does make sense.” Everyone turned to look at the king’s boyhood friend. “Niki never felt as if she was one of us. She stayed with the Knights of Alcea because that is what Fredrik wanted. Without him, she feels no reason to be here. I suspect that the days she spent in the storeroom were her period of mourning.”
“She was saying goodbye to him?” questioned Natia as her eyes glanced at the coffin. “Perhaps that is right. I thought my words had convinced her to return to her room, but now I can see that she merely realized that it was time to move on. Where will she go?”
“She is going nowhere,” answered the king. “Niki is still a Knight of Alcea. She is one of us, and she will always have a place here. Always.”
“She might be pleased to hear those words,” Jenneva said sadly, “but I think the choice is hers to make. Tedi is right about how Niki felt about the rest of us. She never felt as if she fit in. I seriously doubt that she would have any desire to remain where the memory of Fredrik would haunt her every day.”
“Are you suggesting that we just let her go?” asked Queen Tanya. “That is pretty heartless, Mother. Niki can’t take care of herself.”
“I think you would be surprised what Niki is capable of,” retorted Jenneva. “I know that she comes across as childish at times, but Niki is an intelligent woman. Having said that, I am not suggesting that we abandon Niki. I think the king needs to send out trackers to find her, but they must not force her to return to Tagaret. Respect her decision, whatever it might be.”
“You think she has left the city?” frowned the king.
“Without a doubt.” Jenneva nodded. “Niki understands animals much more than she understands humans. In her mind, she is going home.”
“To Sordoa?” asked Tedi.
“Sordoa has never been her home,” replied Jenneva. “She may have been born and raised there, but that means nothing to Niki. She is going to live among her own kind.”
“With the animals.” Queen Tanya nodded. “I agree. It is so obvious looking back on it that we should have anticipated such a response to Fredrik’s death.”
“I still want her found,” stated the king. “I will not force anything on Niki, but she needs to know that we all care about her and that she is welcome here at any time.”
“I will go after her,” offered Karl Gree. “I can track her down.”
“You are needed in Tyronia,” Alex replied. “Besides, I think the tracker should be someone she knows well.”
“Before any of you volunteer,” interrupted the king, “all of you are needed somewhere else. I will send some Rangers after her. Let us give Fredrik a proper burial and then retire inside.”
Heirs of the Enemy Page 23