Demonkin

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “I prefer to be in the field with my men,” answered General Forshire. “In fact, I will be leaving Despair soon to rejoin them.”

  “Oh?” the emperor responded with surprise. “Where are your men?”

  “I left them in the Dark Forest,” answered the general. “They are on their way to Despair, but I plan to turn them around. I do not think that I will find any rebels around here.”

  “Rebels?” questioned the emperor. “Is that what you do with your prisoners?”

  “That is the task of the A Corps.” The general nodded.

  “Is it?” inquired the emperor. “I had heard of a recent success in finding some of the rebels. Do you know anything about that?”

  “Know anything about it?” General Forshire echoed with confusion. “It was the A Corps that found them and eliminated them. Did you not see my reports?”

  “I do not bother with such details,” the emperor replied dismissively. “Grand General Kyrga has my full faith in such things. Tell me, General, have you or your men ever been to Elfwoods?”

  “Elfwoods?” repeated General Forshire as he felt his neck dampen. “I am Tyronian, Emperor Jaar. Despair is the farthest south I have ever been.”

  “So King Elengal would not recognize you if I brought him into this room?” posed the emperor.

  Clint did not care for the course the conversation was taking. He knew that the elven king managed to get in to see the emperor because Kyrga was livid about the lapse in procedure, but he had no knowledge of Elengal ever leaving. He wondered if the elven king had been tortured and revealed what he knew about the Alceans.

  “I have never seen the elven king,” General Forshire answered, “so I doubt that he could have possibly ever seen me. Do you know if he has ever visited Tyronia?”

  “You appear nervous, General,” the emperor said with a thin smile.

  “I am nervous,” admitted the general. “I have never expected to dine with the Emperor of Barouk. I apologize if this offends you. It is funny in a strange sort of way. I can lead my men into battle without a shred of nervousness, but sitting alone with you in this room is making me sweat. I am sorry, but I guess I am not cut out for politics. That is why I requested command of an army. I am at my best on the field of battle.”

  The emperor stared at the general for a long time without responding. When he finally spoke, the change in the direction of the conversation puzzled the general.

  “What do you think of Grand General Kyrga?” asked the emperor.

  “He is my superior,” Clint replied. “It is not my place to evaluate him.”

  “You serve me,” scowled the emperor, “and I demand your thoughts.”

  Clint sighed and nodded. “I have had very little contact with Grand General Kyrga. I made my case for creating my own army, and he obliged me. The only complaint that I can register is that he does not put much trust in those beneath him.”

  “And you think he should?”

  “In my case he should,” answered General Forshire. “I believe that I have shown my loyalty long before coming to Despair. I made it possible for the Federation to take Tyronia without a battle. Certainly that should demand some trust.”

  “And he has not shown you any?”

  “My task was to form an army and track down the rebels,” explained the general. “I was given a file on the rebels to aid me, but there was a lot of information withheld from me. It made my task harder than it should have been.”

  “What was withheld?”

  “I am not sure,” frowned the general. “I found coins on the rebels that were from a country called Alcea. When I returned to Despair to report to Grand General Kyrga, he confirmed that he already knew about Alcea and that was why the information was withheld. Obviously, he did not want me to know everything about the rebels. I will not say that this is a great cause of complaint about his methods, but a little more trust in me, and my task would have been easier.”

  “Did Kyrga explain anything about Alcea?” asked the emperor.

  “Only that it is a country across the sea,” answered the general. “He also confirmed that some of the rebels were from Alcea.”

  “Did he tell you not to mention this fact to others?”

  “He did not,” answered the general. “Had I known beforehand that any mention of Alcea should not be spread, I could have kept it quiet, but I am afraid that others already know.”

  “Others?” the emperor said with alarm. “Who knows?”

  “Obviously some of my men know about the coins,” answered the general. “I also showed them to General Tauman and some mages he had with him. He mysteriously showed up as the attack was ending. He did not seem to know anything about Alcea, but he did see the coins.”

  “You are to order your men not to mention Alcea,” stated the emperor. “For now it is to remain a secret.”

  “What about General Tauman and the black-cloaks?”

  “I will handle them,” declared Emperor Jaar. “Do you know anything about demonkin?”

  Clint’s mind whirled as the emperor opened up yet another topic. He struggled to understand the reason for the emperor’s interrogation.

  “I know very little about such things,” General Forshire answered.

  “Do you believe such a thing exists?”

  “I do.” The general nodded.

  Clint began to get the impression that the emperor did not believe in demons or demonkin, and that made no sense to the Ranger. The Federation attacks on Alcea had been led by demonkin. If the leader of the Federation was unaware of their existence then someone was manipulating the emperor. Clint’s mind raced as he tried to guess where the questioning was leading. If Jaar was being used, would it be beneficial to let him know that? Or would that potentially cause so much turmoil that it might upset the Alceans’ plans?

  “Are you a follower of Balmak, General?”

  “I am not,” the general replied.

  “Do you know the priest K’san?”

  “I have seen them,” answered the general.

  “Them?” echoed the emperor. “That is a strange answer. I am talking about the priest here in Despair.”

  “Unless he can travel faster than a horse,” the general responded, “there is more than one K’san. There was one in Ur when I left, and I saw another in Valdo on my way here. On a recent trip to Giza I also saw one there. I believe them to be different people, but I cannot say for sure. I assumed that K’san was a title and not a name.”

  “Do you believe that K’san is a demonkin?”

  “I suspect that is true,” replied the general. “I know that many people swear that K’san is demonkin. K’san is reportedly able to steal the thoughts from your mind, and his skin is impervious to harm. I try to steer far away from them.”

  The emperor nodded thoughtfully and then fell silent for a long time. Clint glanced around the room to see if any servants were nearby, but the room was devoid of listeners. Eventually the emperor shook his head as if he suddenly realized that the general was still there.

  “How are you getting along with your fellow diplomatic generals?” asked the emperor.

  “I tend to avoid them,” Clint answered truthfully. “I do have meals with them on occasion, but that is because I need to eat.”

  “I take it that you do not appreciate them?”

  “Certainly not in a military sense,” answered the general. “I doubt that either of them is capable of commanding a real army. I do understand that they were brought here for a different purpose, but they are enveloped with self-interest. They are not committed to the Federation. Garibaldi in particular cares for nothing but himself. Such an attitude irritates me.”

  “Well,” smiled the emperor, “it is refreshing to hear you thoughts. I would not worry about either of them commanding an army. There is little that they can do to harm the Federation.”

  “That may be so,” shrugged the general, “but in my experience, such people often do the unthinkable just to p
lease themselves. I am anxious to be away from them and back in the field with my men.”

  “Do not be in such a hurry,” advised the emperor. “I ask you to stay around the palace for a few days.”

  “Have I done something wrong?” General Forshire asked with concern.

  “You seem to have a fairly good ability to gauge people,” smiled the emperor. “There was a party of soldiers sent out to Elfwoods a while ago. Sniff around and see if you can identify who authorized the incursion.”

  “Wouldn’t Grand General Kyrga know that already?” asked General Forshire.

  “He does not appear to know anything about it,” answered the emperor. “See what you can find out, but do so quietly.”

  “How quietly?” frowned the general.

  “Do not let anyone know that you are doing this for me,” smiled the emperor. “If the wrong person finds out, your career may be short lived.”

  “Does that warning include Grand General Kyrga?” inquired the general.

  “Always remember that you ultimately serve me,” the emperor replied cryptically. “Let no one know of your investigation except me.”

  “It shall be as you wish,” promised General Forshire.

  Emperor Jaar waved dismissively towards the door. General Forshire rose and bowed before exiting the room. As he made his way through the twisting servant corridors, he pondered what was going on in the heart of the Federation. It became clear in Clint’s mind that the emperor trusted no one, and that included Grand General Kyrga. The other thing that became clear to Clint as he retraced the convoluted route to his suite is that Colonel Taerin was the emperor’s man. It was now clear that Taerin had used the servant corridors to avoid being reported to Grand General Kyrga, and not to avoid Garibaldi or Fabio as he had hinted.

  Chapter 13

  Scorpion

  Clint reached the top story of the Emporium Inn and moved quietly to his left. He tapped lightly on the first door, and it promptly opened. The Ranger slid into the room and closed the door. When he turned to face the occupants of the room, he saw that Morro was already there. He smiled at Garth and Kalina and joined them at the table.

  “We had expected you a bit earlier,” Garth commented.

  “I had an unexpected demand made of me,” Clint replied. “I was summoned to the emperor’s dining room. He interrogated me for a while to see if I was responsible for the raid on Elfwoods. When he discovered that I was not responsible, he tasked me with finding out who was.”

  “So King Elengal was correct,” mused Morro as he took his place at the table. “He suspected that the raid was not authorized.”

  “Not by the emperor at least,” stated Clint.

  “Why ask you to investigate?” frowned Kalina. “Surely, the emperor has people already capable of doing such a thing.”

  “He obviously does not trust them,” offered Garth. “General Forshire is a new addition to the stable in Despair. I suspect the emperor thinks that he will not be tainted by whatever corruption is taking place.”

  “I think you are correct, Garth.” Clint nodded. “It was a surreal conversation. The emperor does not believe in demonkin, and he is clueless as to the true nature of K’san. He thinks the name refers to the single priest of Balmak in Despair. He was also quite nervous that I knew about Alcea. He forbade me from mentioning it to anyone and instructed me to make sure that my men do not mention it either.”

  “There are some games being played in Despair that we are unaware of,” stated Garth. “It is obvious that someone is using the emperor for his own ends.”

  “I also get the impression that very few people know about the existence of Alcea,” added Clint. “Is it possible the other leaders of the Federation are not aware of the true target of the invasion?”

  “That would explain the certainty felt in the horse countries that they were indeed the target of the Federation’s war plans,” declared Kalina. “If the Occans had spies in some of the other countries of the Federation, they would think that the attack was aimed solely at them.”

  “Why the deceit?” asked Morro. “Does the emperor believe that the other monarchs would be less likely to attack if they knew the real target?”

  “I think it is more a matter of general mistrust,” answered Garth. “If the other monarchs do not know about Alcea, they cannot possibly divulge any information. Perhaps the horse countries were the original target of the Federation, but when that changed, the emperor decided not to share the change in goals.”

  “You might be right, Garth,” suggested Clint, “but his deceit might also prove to be a blessing to us. We could use this information to drive a wedge between the various factions of the Federation.”

  “That is worth considering,” Garth said, “but there are more important things to devote our time to right now. I want to know everything there is to know about this mysterious valley.”

  “It is a massive hidden valley in western Ertak,” explained the Ranger. “There is no natural entrance to it, but the Federation has built a tunnel out of it to the east. Just off the Blood Highway, there is a small garrison of Federation troops. I chanced upon this garrison when I was escorted from Ur to Despair. There is a tunnel entrance that is concealed by illusions, and black-cloaks guard it night and day.”

  “I remember you reporting on this,” commented Garth. “The garrison is only about a hundred men.”

  “Correct,” continued Clint, “but those hundred men could hold the tunnel for a long time against a far superior force. At the other end of the tunnel is the entire First Corps of the Federation. That should be ten thousand men. General Tauman leads the First Corps. I met him when I staged the death of the rebels not far from Camp Destiny. He knows about Alcea. I am sure of that.”

  “Your last report indicated that an illusion also covers the top of the valley,” stated Kalina. “Tell us what Peanut discovered.”

  “Another illusion prohibits seeing the valley from above,” agreed Clint. “It is guarded by some type of magical alarm. Even someone as small as Peanut will set off the alarm, which he accidentally did on his first outing. I had him camp out in the peaks of the Barrier to observe as much as he could. After the alarm was set off, Camp Destiny posted guards on the peaks of the surrounding mountains. The guards are changed twice a day, but the schedule is varied enough to be unpredictable.”

  Garth sighed. “Which means an assault from the air will be as bloody as attacking through the tunnel.”

  “Exactly.” Clint nodded.

  “Why do we want to assault the valley?” asked Morro.

  “We believe that the Doors are stored there,” answered Clint. “The valley is large enough to easily host a quarter of a million men without them tripping over one another. It is the perfect place to launch their invasion through portals. They can defend it with a small amount of men while huge armies march through to Alcea.”

  “And we need to destroy some of the Doors after they march through them,” added Kalina. “The defense of Alcea depends upon it.”

  “We need a way to get troops into that valley,” stated Garth.

  “If it indeed holds the Doors,” clarified Clint. “I would like a chance to get in there myself to verify it before this goes too much further.”

  “Is there any possibility of that happening?” asked Garth.

  Clint sighed and shook his head. “I do not see any way that I can talk my way in. General Tauman dismissed me from his mind as soon as he saw what the commotion was about. He does not seem susceptible to flattery, and he does not think much of the A Corps.”

  “Perhaps I could sneak in,” offered Morro as he realized the importance of the valley. “With my gift of speed, I would not be noticed.”

  “The tunnel must be leagues long,” Clint pointed out. “No matter how fast you are, you could not traverse that tunnel without being detected.”

  Morro thought otherwise, but he was hesitant to mention the hourglass. It was not that he distrusted anyone in
the room. Quite the opposite was true. He trusted them with his life, but he had grown accustomed to keeping secrets and old habits did not die easily.

  “I think I could do it,” the elven thief stated adamantly.

  “No,” Kalina replied with a shake of her head. “Even if you were not detected visibly, the black-cloaks are sure to have magical wards throughout the tunnel. They surely thought to include them on the peaks of the Barrier, and that is a much less likely approach for a spy.”

  Morro sighed in defeat. He knew that Kalina was correct, and he had just volunteered to do something that would have cost him his life. He closed his mouth and left the conversation to the others.

  “You indicated that there were thirty pairs of Doors,” Garth said, “yet the document only had twenty-four of them with city names beside them. What of the other six pairs of Doors?”

  “There was nothing in the file to indicate what their use was,” answered the Ranger.

  “Perhaps they are spares,” suggested Kalina. “I would love to get my hands on a set of them. Better yet, imagine if we could get a Door to Tagaret. That would be more helpful than anything I can imagine.”

  “The only way to get a Door to Tagaret would be through one of the Doors of the Federation,” frowned Garth, “and if Clint is correct, they are all in that valley. Let’s concentrate on things we can accomplish.”

  “The Doors were made by a shop in Olansk,” offered Clint. “I am planning on having my men investigate the shop. Maybe the owner can make Doors for us.”

  “Do not send your men,” objected Kalina. “Doors are not made solely by carpenters. They are magically enchanted. While the shop is worth investigating, your troops should not be the ones to do it. You might expose the A Corps for what it truly is.”

  “Cracker’s people could raid the shop during the night,” offered Morro.

  “Would they work with me if I went to Olansk?” asked Kalina. “I would like to learn the magic used if that is possible.”

  “They might,” frowned Morro, “but they most certainly would if I went with you.”