Heirs of the Enemy

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “That puts eighty thousand men nearby,” frowned Tedi. “They could create a human wall around the entire city if they wanted. Killing K’san is beginning to appear impossible.”

  “We will dally here for a few days,” shrugged Garth. “If there is a chink in their armor, we will find it. What do you plan to reveal to the emperor?”

  “I am not sure,” admitted Clint. “I want him to halt the war if we help restore him to power, but it is a long shot.”

  “He would say anything to get what he wants,” warned Morro. “Do not trust him. If you reveal your true self to him, you will be dead by morning.”

  “I think Morro has the right of it.” Garth nodded. “Emperor Jaar is directly responsible for the deaths of thousands. More than any other ruler in the Federation, he is responsible for the purges and starvation that has wracked the land. He is a man without compassion. Truth be told, I hold out little chance of him calling off the invasion, but I am agreeable to your giving it a try. Just don’t reveal that you are anything other than what you have been portraying.”

  “I will be cautious,” Clint said as he stood up to leave. “I will need the hourglass, Morro.”

  Morro reluctantly gave up his magical artifact, and Clint prepared to leave the room, but Garth halted him.

  “Hold up. You can just waltz into the Imperial Palace whenever you want?”

  “I do it all the time,” replied Clint. “I am a general in the Federation army, after all.”

  “And do most Federation generals walk around without a bodyguard?”

  “None of them do,” conceded Clint, “but I am known for keeping my men outside the city. It has never been a problem before.”

  “You have never had your men killed in battle before. You left bodies behind near the Barrier. You don’t see that as a problem?”

  “I seriously doubt that the Badgers would report losing the women,” shrugged Clint.

  “Maybe. Maybe not, but they could report battling the A Corps without reporting the loss of the women. I think you are getting careless, Clint.”

  “He is rather tired,” Morro said in Clint’s defense. “We have been running nonstop for quite a while.”

  Clint shot a glare in the elf’s direction. “There is nothing that I can do about the lack of a bodyguard right now, and I will not put this off until I can get some of my men to Despair. If Jaar is even capable of canceling the invasion, it may take him months to do so. We don’t have much time.”

  “Do you have any A Corps patches available?” asked Garth.

  “I have plenty,” frowned Clint. “What do you have in mind?”

  “I have twenty of Scorpion’s men out in the woods right now. They are training with the Rangers. They are wearing Federation uniforms with the patch of the V Corps removed from them. I can get them to wear A Corps patches while you are inside the palace.”

  “I don’t think that is necessary,” Clint replied as he removed his pack and tossed it to Garth, “but I can’t see how it could hurt. The only problem will be Colonel Donil. He should be waiting for me on the palace grounds. If he sees any of Scorpion’s men wearing the patch, he might say something unfortunate.”

  “Is he one of yours?” asked Natia. “Why was he left behind?”

  “He wasn’t left behind. He was one of the colonels sent to Alcea. He should have returned by now.”

  “He can’t say anything until he leaves the city,” Garth pointed out. “He will not be a problem.”

  “Fine,” Clint said wearily. “If you are done looking over my shoulder, can I get this done and get to bed?”

  Garth stared silently at the Ranger for a moment and then finally nodded. Clint sighed with relief and left the room.

  “I tried to get him to rest a bit before going,” Morro said softly. “He is too weary for such a delicate operation.”

  “Is that why you were so hard on him, Garth?” asked Natia.

  “Clint is a good man,” Garth said defensively. “He has far outperformed my greatest expectations, but we all get sloppy at times. Sometimes we all just need a reality check. I hope those here in this room will do the same for me when you think I am getting lax.”

  “Aren’t you making too much of this, Garth?” asked Tedi. “Clint knows what he is doing.”

  “He knows his part better than any of us,” conceded Garth, “but this game is changing every day. For all we know, the Badgers may have recognized him during the attack on his camp. If the Badgers are reporting to Kyrga, or someone else in the palace, Clint may be dead the moment he walks through those gates.”

  “And we will not be able to do a thing about it,” frowned Natia. “Now I understand your hesitation. The entire A Corps would be in jeopardy.”

  “More than just the A Corps,” frowned Tedi. “If K’san were to get his hands on Clint, we would all be endangered.”

  * * * *

  The night was already late when General Forshire passed through the gates of the Imperial Palace, but Colonel Taerin still intercepted him before he reached the doors of the palace.

  “You have been missed around here,” welcomed the colonel.

  “Have I?” General Forshire replied. “I didn’t think anyone paid much attention to my comings and goings. How are things in the palace these days?”

  “Rather quiet after the celebration, although there are many generals in residence. That usually happens in the winter. If you have come to see the emperor, he is still not seeing anyone.”

  Clint was alarmed by the colonel’s change in topic, but he held his emotions in check. “Actually, I came to see if Colonel Donil returned from Alcea.”

  “He did. He arrived two days ago and questioned where you were. I had to admit that I did not know.”

  “I have been camped outside the city. The palace seems confining at times, and I enjoy the outdoors. I guess I will spend this night in my suite and gather Colonel Donil in the morning.”

  “Shall I order a bath prepared for you, General?”

  “I am a bit too tired tonight,” General Forshire said with a smile of appreciation. “I think just a comfortable bed will suffice.”

  Colonel Taerin nodded, and the general entered the Imperial Palace. Clint went straight to his sleeping chamber and unmade his bed. He then snuck out of his suite and through the servant corridors to the entrance of the emperor’s suite. He triggered the hourglass after peeking around the corner at the guards. With time frozen, Clint quickly made his way into the suite and then the emperor’s sleeping chamber. He opened the doors to the balcony and suddenly realized that he no longer had his pack. He had no hook to put on display for the emperor. He berated himself with a sigh as he thought about Morro’s admonition regarding sleep. With nothing else to do while he waited for the sands to fall, Clint reentered the sleeping chambers and uncovered the emperor. Pushing the emperor’s gown out of the way, he uncovered Jaar’s right hip, but there was not enough light to see the mark. Worrying that the sands were running out, he quickly lit a candle and stared at the mark. He blew the candle out and covered the emperor, stepping back onto the balcony just in time. As the sands completed their journey, the emperor tossed in his bed. His eyes opened and saw Clint standing on the balcony. He gasped and bolted upright.

  “Have you found them?”

  “I have,” answered General Forshire, “but I lost a lot of men in the process. The women were held by Badgers.”

  “Who hired them?”

  “I do not know. Emperor, you said that I could have anything I desired if I rescued them. Did you mean that?”

  Jaar’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “Get your army here to release me, and I will keep my promise to you. What is it that you want?”

  “An end to the war against Alcea.”

  The emperor frowned heavily. “Where are my women?”

  “They are safely hidden. I dared not bring them to Despair without a great army around me. Right now there are eighty thousand soldiers near Despair, and I don
’t know who among them can be trusted.”

  “Where are they?”

  “The war against Alcea?” pressed the general.

  “Why are you so interested in saving Alcea?”

  “Colonel Donil just returned from a trip to Alcea. There is nothing to be gained by attacking them. Whoever is leading you to believe that Alcea is a land of great riches is deceiving you. I would prefer to see the might of the Federation turned inward, working to make this land more prosperous rather than plundering another.”

  “I have read numerous reports to dispute your words, Forshire. The only reason you would want Alcea to be spared is because you are Alcean. How did you manage to portray a Tyronian general?”

  “That is a tremendous leap to make,” frowned Clint. “An easier explanation is that Kyrga has been feeding you false reports all along. You will gain nothing from invading Alcea other than fountains of blood that will wipe out a generation of Zarans.”

  “Nice try, Forshire, or whatever your real name is. I have been receiving intelligence reports on more than just Alcea. In fact, I know quite a bit about Tyronia and their officers. There is not a decent general among them, and you, you are a great general. You took scum out of my prisons and built an army that has managed to conquer every task assigned to you. I would have gladly made you Grand General of the Federation, but that is no longer possible. One word from me, and your life is forfeit, but I am a reasonable man. Where are my women?”

  “I cannot say,” Clint replied.

  “You will tell me or you will die.”

  “Killing me will not get your women back. If I die, their location will go with me to my grave.”

  Emperor Jaar glared at Clint for a moment and then his face softened and a smile appeared on his face. “That would be acceptable to me. You Alceans do not understand my world. I am a prisoner because someone wants my throne, but they can’t have it without eliminating my family. If you have hidden them well enough, that is just as good as my hiding them. You have no bargaining chips left, Alcean, but I will let you live if you divulge their location.”

  “I could kill you before anyone responded to your call,” warned Clint. “You had better rethink your position.”

  “Killing me will not save Alcea, or your life. In fact, my son would avenge my death with a merciless assault upon your homeland. I am offering you your freedom in exchange for some information that is useless to you. That is the best deal you are going to get.”

  “I thought your son was dead,” Clint shot back.

  The emperor blinked and fell silent. Suddenly, both men heard the door to the suite opening. Emperor Jaar lay down on the bed and threw the covers over himself. Clint backed nervously onto the balcony and drew his sword. The door to Jaar’s sleeping chamber opened and the light from a lantern flooded the room. As Clint tried to put the hourglass into his pouch so he could wield the sword with both hands, the hourglass fell from his hand. He watched in dismay as it bounced off the floor and tumbled over the edge of the balcony. Clint shrunk back into the shadows as he saw K’san enter the room and place the lantern on a dresser. The demonkin picked up the candle on the table next to the emperor and sniffed it.

  “You can stop pretending to be asleep, Jaar,” said the demonkin. “Your candle was just extinguished. Sit up and tell me what I want to know, or I will take what I need from you.”

  The emperor threw his covers back and sat up. He stared up at the priest defiantly. “You hold no sway over me. My family is free.”

  “For now,” snarled the priest. “We are already tracking them. We will have the women back in a short amount of time. Who did you send after them?”

  “That hardly matters now.”

  “I will decide what matters. Who did you send?”

  The emperor remained defiantly silent.

  “You fool,” spat the priest. “Now I will have all of your secrets. Not only will I know who you sent to get your women, but I will know where you are hiding your son.”

  The priest reached out and grabbed the emperor’s head between his two large hands.

  “No!” shouted the emperor. “I sent Forshire. Go and find him before he escapes.”

  What had started as a shout, ended with a whimper as the emperor lost consciousness. Knowing that his cover was blown, Clint stepped into the light. The priest was bent over the emperor, his back to the balcony doors. Clint stepped lightly forward, but the priest must have sensed something. He whirled around, his long arms streaking for Clint’s head, but The Ranger was already within range. Clint shoved his sword into the priest’s chest and turned it. The demonkin’s eyes grew large with surprise as his knees buckled. Clint pulled back on his sword, and K’san’s body tumbled to the floor. Clint stood unmoving for a moment as he wondered if he could possibly leave without killing the emperor. Jaar had been too quick to offer him up, but he did so to save himself. He could have easily given away Clint’s position on the balcony, but he did not. Unable to decide, the Ranger stirred his fairy to life.

  “That is a demonkin,” gasped Peanut as he glanced at the large black body on the floor, “and isn’t that the emperor in the bed? What are we doing here?”

  “We are in trouble,” Clint said softly. “I dropped Morro’s hourglass off the balcony. You must go down and retrieve it without being seen by the patrols. Hurry back.”

  “I hope you didn’t break it,” retorted the fairy. “That is quite a drop from up here.”

  “If it is broken, we are going to have a hard time getting out of here. Hurry!”

  The fairy darted over the side of the railing and disappeared. A few minutes later, Peanut returned and placed the hourglass in Clint’s palm.

  “Is it okay?” asked the fairy as Clint returned the artifact to his pouch.

  “We won’t know until I try it, and I am not ready to leave here yet. Can you levitate the priest’s body out to sea without being detected?”

  “I don’t know,” frowned the fairy. “While there is no moon yet, the sky is clear, and the stars are bright.”

  Clint frowned and pondered the problem for a while, but he could see no other solution. “Do it,” he ordered the fairy. “Try your best not to be seen.”

  Clint quickly wiped his sword clean before the fairy levitated the large body. As Peanut carried the priest away, Clint poked the emperor with the tip of his sword. Jaar opened his eyes and looked around in surprise.

  “Where is the priest?”

  “He left. My problem now is what to do with you. You gave me up easily enough.”

  “I could have revealed your presence,” retorted the emperor, “but I didn’t. I merely wanted to stop him from reading my mind.”

  “So he would not learn the location of your son. I understand, but I now know that I cannot trust you. I see no choice left to me but to take your life.”

  “You mustn’t,” pleaded the emperor. “If you kill me, my son will be forced to reveal himself before we have learned who the real threat is. I will make you a deal.”

  Clint stared skeptically at the emperor. “What is your deal?”

  “Bring your army to Despair. Seize Kyrga and those loyal to him so that I can reestablish myself. Do that, and I will promise to call off the invasion of Alcea.”

  “Those terms are acceptable to me,” replied Clint, “but I have no faith in your word. You would just order your new Grand General to seize me or kill me. I am not a fool, Emperor.”

  “I will write a proclamation right now,” offered the emperor. “I will make it irrevocable if you wish.”

  “An irrevocable promise not to attack Alcea?” chuckled Clint. “I am sure that waving that under someone’s nose wouldn’t get me hung in a minute flat.”

  The emperor sighed nervously. “Tell me what you want. I will do anything you ask, but I am not willing to turn this empire over to the man who is trying to kill me and my family. I will die before I let him win. I will gladly give up Alcea to see him hang.”

  For some r
eason, Clint actually believed the man, but he still could not trust him. “I will take a proclamation, but not the one that you are offering. You will create a new position for me that is not subservient to Kyrga. It will allow me and my army to work autonomously, and it will be irrevocable.”

  “What will you do with such a position?”

  “I will use it to avoid dying as I rally forces to remove Kyrga and his cronies. I only have two-thousand men, Emperor. There are currently eighty-thousand soldiers in Despair. I need to be able to get my men onto the palace grounds without anyone standing in my way.”

  “Agreed,” the emperor said as he rose and picked up the lantern.

  Jaar moved into the office and sat down at his desk. He began writing up the proclamation.

  “You will be the first Imperial General of the Federation,” Jaar said as wrote. “You will report directly to me and not the Grand General. Kyrga will have no hold over you, but neither will he be required to obey your orders. You will be on a par with him.”

  “Why not place me over Kyrga?”

  “That would be the same as signing your death warrant. Being on the same level as Kyrga makes you an annoyance to him, but he will not risk killing you because that would show his disloyalty to me. If, however, I place you above him, he would have no choice but to kill you. You may not place much trust in me, Forshire, but I do not want you dead. Bring your men to Despair and free me.”

  The emperor placed his seal on the proclamation and placed it on the desk. Clint sheathed his sword, but he still felt unsure about leaving the emperor alive. The emperor smiled at Clint as if they were good friends now.

  “You should hurry to get out of Despair before that priest reports what he knows,” Jaar said.

  “K’san will not tell anyone about me. He is dead. In fact, you might want to mop his blood off your floor before you retire.”

  The emperor gasped with disbelief as he rose to his feet and snagged the lantern. He carried it into his room and stared at the blood-soaked floor.