“And did you pass the test?” inquired Zackary.
“I believe so,” nodded Wylan. “He was skeptical at first, but I think he finally fell for my bluff. He invited me to share a meal with him. I put him off so that I could plan what to say during the conversation. I am sure that he is hoping to get some juicy insights into the palace.”
“Be careful with him, Wylan,” warned Colonel Nolan. “Always remember that he is a skilled Black Devil. He is very talented at playing a deceitful game, and he would not give a second thought to ending your life.”
“I am aware of that,” conceded Wylan. “Still, it is an avenue to exchange information with one of Emperor Hanchi’s men. I would love to find out who the emperor really is. It may help us when it comes time to battle him.”
“I am sure that it would,” nodded the colonel, “but I am not willing to risk your life to get that information. Where did he go today?”
“Only three stops,” reported Wylan. “One was a bakery, and another was a butcher. They were both half hour stops. The most interesting stop was at a boarding house. He visited a room on the third floor for over an hour. I think it would be wise of us to keep a watch on the men in that room. I was thinking of renting the room next door to them. If there is someone in it, we can offer them a better place to live.”
“I like that idea,” agreed Zack, “but not for you. You are too visible for that assignment. That you have been able to follow Tashlan for several days is a testament to your skill, but we should not tempt fate. You may pursue the meal with him, but I will get someone else to follow him for a while. Besides, I have another task for you.”
* * *
“We are right back where we started,” complained Mustar. “Dubar is not far up the road. Why are we just wandering around?”
“We are not wandering,” Boris replied calmly as he handed a plate of food to Podil. “This is where we need to be to travel further north.”
“But if we go north from here,” interjected Fredrik, “we will have to go under the Darkness. You know that is not wise.”
“It is not wise,” agreed Master Khatama, “but it is necessary. We are through with the need to be in Sordoa and Lanoir. It is time to head north.”
“May I ask what is so important up north?” asked Balamor.
“I assume that is exactly what you are asking,” smiled Boris. “The question you really want to ask, Balamor, is not what is important in the north, but rather who is important in the north. Our group is far from complete.”
“Very well,” sighed Balamor. “Who is so important that we must travel north?”
“The answer to that question does not concern you at the moment,” Master Khatama answered as he handed Niki a plate. “There is a more important question that faces us. That question is; how do I survive another trip under the Darkness.”
“Is it really necessary, Uncle Boris?” asked Niki. “I don’t like the way you get under the Darkness.”
“I am afraid that it is, Niki,” smiled Boris. “While our group represents some of the world’s most powerful magicians, it is still not strong enough. I must go north to continue my search.”
“Why not fly?” inquired Fredrik. “The trip would be shorter that way.”
“No,” Mustar shook his head. “That is not the answer. If anything, Master Khatama would be more susceptible to the effects of the Darkness in the form of an owl. While the time spent would be shorter, the risk would be far more dangerous. No, there must be another solution.”
“The effects of the Darkness are airborne,” commented Balamor. “I noticed this in Pog. Those creatures that inhabited the lower depths of the sea were less affected than those who lived near the surface.”
“Then shielding might work,” suggested Podil. “Certainly a shield can be made that is airtight.”
“But you are dealing with people,” Fredrik pointed out. “We need air to breath, and the trip by wagon will take some days to complete.”
“Actually,” interjected Mustar, “Master Khatama is the only one of us requiring a shield. The Darkness does not affect the rest of us in such a dangerous way.”
“The rest of us could take turns maintaining the shields over the Mage,” offered Podil. “We should travel day and night until we emerge from the Darkness. Fredrik and Niki could take turns driving the wagon.”
“There is still the problem of air to breath,” Fredrik repeated. “Even the Mage must have air.”
“Yes,” nodded Balamor, “but how much air? If the Mage could be reduced to a comatose state, his need for air would be greatly diminished.”
“You mean to give him some barrel weed?” asked Niki. “I don’t like that idea.”
“You said the pit berries needed to be administered within an hour,” argued Fredrik. “He would die.”
“Not barrel weed,” Balamor shook his head, “but something similar. Barrel weed is not the only thing that can cause such a state.”
“Fengel root?” asked Podil.
“That is what I was thinking of,” nodded Balamor. “We are not likely to find any in this desert terrain, though.”
“Actually,” offered Mustar, “I know where some is located not far from here. My home is a short distance away. I have some Fengel root there. Should I get it?”
“Yes,” decided Boris. “This is the safest way for me to make the trip. The shields will have to be maintained at all times under the Darkness. There must be adequate air within the shield to last for the duration of the trip.”
“A large box could be filled with air and then sealed,” suggested Podil.
“Like a coffin?” gasped Niki. “That is horrible.”
“But necessary,” smiled Boris. “We can make the coffin while Mustar fetches the fengel root.”
“You risk much to get to the north,” sighed Podil. “Are these people you seek really that important to what we must do?”
“Essential,” nodded Boris. “We will be attempting to do something that has never been done before. Enormous power and control will be needed.”
“There are six of us already,” frowned Niki. “How many more can you possibly need?”
“There are four of us,” retorted Master Khatama. “The time for you and Fredrik to leave is fast approaching. Learn what you can from these masters while they are able to teach you. You will probably never again get the chance to learn from them.”
Niki turned and ran into the woods. Fredrik looked at the others and saw the cold determination on their faces. He ran after Niki and found her crying away from the clearing.
“What is the matter?” he asked.
“Can’t you hear?” sobbed Niki. “Whatever they are planning to do, it is going to be fatal. That is why Uncle Boris doesn’t want us around any more. He is kicking us out just to save us.”
Fredrik was going to try to convince Niki that she was interpreting things wrongly, but the cold stares he remembered seeing on the faces of the others made him realize that Niki was correct.
Chapter 21
Dangerous Details
Master Khatama’s merchant wagon rumbled along the road that paralleled the Great Sordoan Desert. Fredrik sat on the seat with the reins in his hands, urging the most out of the team of four horses without overtiring them. Niki slept, stretched out on the seat with her head on Fredrik’s lap. Under the cover of the wagon, Podil sat, seemingly lost in prayer over a large sealed casket. Balamor slept, curled into a ball amongst the piles of merchandise, while Mustar snored loudly, his body in a seated position against the side of the wagon with his head back against the canvas.
Podil’s ageless face lost its serene composure as the distant sounds of thunder filtered through her meditation. Without interrupting her spell, the elf magician turned and gazed out the back of the covered wagon. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw a large cloud of dust on the horizon.
“Mustar,” Podil called softly. “Get up.”
The desert mage’s head snapped forward
and his eyes scanned the wagon, giving the impression of someone waking in an unexpected place.
“Is it my turn already?” he asked as his eyes settled on Podil and the casket. “It feels like I just got to sleep.”
“No,” Podil replied calmly. “There is something that requires your attention. I dare not get distracted from my duty.”
“Hmmph,” frowned Mustar. “What is it that you need?”
“Look out the back of the wagon,” stated the elf.
Mustar grunted as he pushed himself towards the center of the wagon and turned to look out the back. His eyebrows rose as he saw the dust cloud. He quickly crawled to the back of the wagon and peered out.
“Riders in the distance,” Mustar shouted. “Lots of riders.”
Balamor abruptly sat up and moved next to Mustar. He frowned as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Lanoirians,” he said impassively. “From the dust they are raising, I would say it is a great number of them.”
“Maybe we should have Fredrik get this wagon off the road until they pass by,” suggested Mustar.
“No,” interjected Podil. “We dare not waste the time. I do not have good feelings about the way we are protecting the Mage. We cannot afford to stop while other travelers use the road.”
“These are not just other travelers,” scowled Mustar as he watched the approaching cavalry. “This is a Lanoirian army. They will sweep us off the road if we get in their way.”
“Are you and Balamor so helpless that you will let some soldiers endanger the Mage?” asked Podil. “Whatever Master Khatama is planning to do, I am sure that it involves the fate of the world. I am not willing to let some power-hungry soldiers get in the way of that. If you are squeamish, Mustar, take over the shields and I will deal with the Lanoirians.”
“Squeamish?” echoed Mustar. “This is not a matter of being squeamish. You are asking me to obliterate thousands of men merely because they travel the same road as we do?”
“You are suddenly concerned about the fate of Lanoirians?” pushed Podil. “I didn’t think you cared about anyone.”
“I am not concerned with Lanoirians or anyone else,” countered Mustar. “I do not get involved in man’s political follies. In the end, all of their squabbling means nothing. That does not mean the wholesale slaughter would not weigh heavily on my mind.”
“Nobody is talking about killing the Lanoirians,” interrupted Balamor. “Use your imagination, Mustar. All we need to do is create an illusion to make them avoid trampling us.”
“That works for me,” Mustar nodded thoughtfully, “but we better be quick about it. They are close enough to see us already. What shall the wagon become?”
“A large boulder?” suggested Podil. “At the speed that they are traveling, we could look like we are standing still if Fredrik slows down just a bit.”
“I can handle that,” nodded Mustar. “Fredrik will not even have to slow down. The vision will be elongated much larger than we are. The Lanoirians will just be riding around a long boulder in the middle of the road. Balamor, make sure that Fredrik understands what we are doing. Tell him to keep a steady pace and remain in the center of the road at all times.”
* * *
The unicorns swept over the desert, their wings leaving small dust devils in the dunes just below them. Alex frowned as he saw the Darkness just ahead of them. He shook his head in dismay as he thought about going under it once again. Living under the Darkness for close to twenty years had been bad enough, but once Arik had begun to banish it, being under it again was hard for Alex to handle. He grumbled under his breath.
A short time later, Alex frowned again. This time it was not the Darkness overhead that bothered him. It was a large dust cloud on the road that paralleled the Great Sordoan Desert.
“Potential trouble to our east,” Alex shouted to Jenneva.
Jenneva looked eastward and nodded. “Let’s go a bit higher to see what it is,” she suggested.
Alex nodded, and the two unicorns shot upwards. Kaz and Yorra rose high enough in the sky to let everyone see the Lanoirian cavalry.
“What are they doing out here?” Alex wondered out loud. “I thought Emperor Hanchi was moving along the coast.”
“Look at the vanguard,” pointed Jenneva. “They have a wagon. Do you think they would use so many men to safeguard one wagon?”
“No,” Alex shook his head. “There must be close to twenty thousand men in that column. One wagon would not carry enough to feed them. “
As Alex and Jenneva watched, the wagon turned into a large boulder. Alex shook his head in disbelief.
“Higher,” shouted Jenneva. “They must have seen us. That boulder is an illusion meant to hide the wagon from our prying eyes.”
Kaz and Yorra shot skyward, and the Lanoirian column became a tiny black trail winding along the edge of the desert.
“Lanoirian cavalry and magicians,” Jenneva wondered out loud. “What does this mean?”
“I am not sure about the magicians,” answered Alex, “but the cavalry is meant to entrap the Sordoans. They are running along the desert to get around General Mobami’s men and come at them from behind. The Sordoans are going to be in for a rough time.”
“I wonder about that wagon,” Jenneva mused a few moments later. “See how it is dropping back through the column of riders. Maybe the illusion was meant for the Lanoirians and not for us.”
“You might be right,” nodded Alex, “but we don’t have time to stay here and find out. We must get to General Mobami immediately. Let’s head towards the coast. Stay high until we are over the sea, then we can come in low over the water.”
Kaz and Yorra flew high over Sordoa until they reached the sea. Pillars of smoke indicated where the burning fields were and the unicorns headed in that direction. They finally located the Sordoans between Caldar and Forgum, and they glided to a beach not far away.
“Be wary,” suggested Alex as he pulled on his Knight of Alcea tunic. “Put your tunic on. I want the Sordoans to know who we are.”
Jenneva nodded as she pulled her tunic on. “Do you think they will attack us?” she asked.
“Oscar said that Arik had made quite an impression with the Sordoans,” shrugged Alex. “I am hopeful that they will not attack us, but we must be prepared for anything.”
Alex led the way off the beach to the road that ran along the coast. They turned towards the Sordoan encampment. Fifteen minutes later, they came to the guards at the edge of the encampment. The guards stared at the tunics of the Knights of Alcea and whispered among themselves. One man turned and ran into the camp.
“Greetings,” called Alex as they approached the guards. “We have come to speak with General Mobami. Can you direct us?”
“Who are you?” questioned the guard.
Alex hesitated only slightly before answering, “Alexander and Jenneva Tork. We come by request of King Arik.”
Excited whispers ran through the Sordoans and men at the closest campfires stood and stared at the two Alceans. Alex was not entirely sure how the reception would turn out. At one time in his life, he was probably the most hated man in Sordoa. He hoped those days were forgotten. It was his reputation that had caused him to adopt a number of false names over the years, otherwise his comings and goings would have been the talk of every tavern in Sordoa.
“Dismount,” ordered one of the guards.
Alex looked at Jenneva and nodded. They both dismounted and stood together. After a few tense moments of silence, a soldier ran past the guards and stopped in front of Alex.
“General Mobami would be pleased to meet with you,” he said. “If you will follow me, someone will care for your mounts.”
The guard turned and headed into the camp. Alex and Jenneva followed as two men ran out to take the reins of Kaz and Yorra. The path to General Mobami’s tent was lined with men, all waiting to see who was coming. Word of Alex’s identity ran along the line of men faster than Alex did, so most of the men knew who he was by the t
ime he passed them. After a few moments of walking, the soldier stopped in front of a large tent and held the door flap. Alex and Jenneva stepped inside.
Alex’s eyes immediately swept over the entire inside of the tent. The furnishings were sparse. There was a wooden door set up as a table with two barrels supporting it. Around the table were half a dozen chests that were being used as chairs. Off in a corner was a simple cot, only big enough for one person. There were four men in the room and no guards. Alex began to relax a bit. He recognized Eddie from Continental Shipping in Trekum, and Captain Azule that he had met in Forgum while searching for the Book of Things. One of the other men had two thin scars, one on each cheek. They appeared fairly recent. The last man was an imposing figure. The baldhead and large mustache fit the description of General Mobami.
“So you are Alexander Tork,” greeted the general. “Welcome to Sordoa.”
“Thank you, General Mobami,” nodded Alex as he noticed Eddie averted his eyes to avoid looking at him. “This is my wife Jenneva. I recognize Captain Azule from our meeting in Forgum. Introduce me to the rest of your people.”
“Captain Orteka of the Kadin Claws,” pointed the general, “and Eddie of the Continental Shipping Company. It was his ships that took us out of Trekum.”
“Well,” Alex nodded to the two men without letting on that he knew Eddie, “We may need to use those ships again. You are about to be surrounded.”
“Surrounded?” echoed the general with alarm. “By whom?”
“Lanoirian cavalry are heading north alongside the desert,” answered Alex. “I estimate them to be about twenty thousand strong. I suspect that their intention is to get north of you and squeeze you into Emperor Hanchi’s army which is advancing from the south.”
The general gazed down at the map on the makeshift table. “They can take the road to Forgum,” nodded General Mobami. “That would put us in a squeeze. About how long do you estimate it will take them to get to Forgum?”
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