“Is it that hard a creature to ride?” the colonel asked in confusion.
“Not at all,” answered the general. “They are beautiful creatures, far superior to even the Occans back home. Kolling made the mistake of using his spurs. He said that the creature spoke inside his mind and threatened to drag his body along the road if he ever did that again.”
“It spoke to him?” gasped the colonel.
“It did,” chuckled the general. “You should have seen his face. I am not surprised that he did not share that with you.”
“He shared nothing about the last parley with me,” frowned the colonel. “I guess he no longer has confidence in me.”
“Do not take it personally, Colonel,” the general said sympathetically. “I don’t think this war has been going the way he expected. I think we have all underestimated our enemy, and Kolling has a hard time accepting that.”
General Kolling glared back at the other officers, and they fell silent, fearful that he might have been able to hear their words. Nothing more was said before they halted a few paces in front of Rut-ki.
“Good morning, General Kolling,” Rut-ki opened with an impassive face, “General Gertz, and…” Rut-ki paused for only a moment as if sifting through the faces in her memory. “Colonel Ednor. Thank you for coming so early in the day.”
The colonel’s eyebrows rose. He was sure that he had never met Rut-ki before yet she seemed to recognize him.
“There is little time before the start of battle,” General Kolling said brusquely. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Surrender, General Kolling,” answered the Knight of Alcea. “It is time to end the bloodshed.”
“It took you long enough to realize that, Rut-ki,” General Kolling said with a slight smile, “but I will not accept your surrender. Your people have inflicted great harm on my army, and I demand my revenge. Return to your people and tell them to prepare to die.”
General Kolling watched Rut-ki’s face closely for any sign of emotion. He was disappointed when it showed none.
“My people were prepared to die yesterday, General,” Rut-ki replied, “and far too many of them did, but you continue to misunderstand me. I am here to offer you one last opportunity to surrender.”
“You should at least learn to smile when you joke,” scowled General Kolling. “You can’t have more than two-hundred men left alive up there. You expect me to surrender to that?”
Rut-ki half turned and waved her hand towards the summit of Lizard Hill as she spoke. “One-hundred-fifty survived your attack yesterday, but we accomplished our goal. We have delayed the advance of Team Barouk, and now you are left with only two choices. You may surrender here and now, or you will all die.”
Colonel Ednor gasped and the two generals turned to see what he saw. They followed his gaze to the top of Lizard Hill and saw it lined with Lanoirian soldiers. For several moments the three Federation officers scanned the ridge of Lizard Hill. From the head to the tail, thousands of Lanoirian soldiers stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Finally, General Kolling spat defiantly in Rut-ki’s direction. He turned abruptly and strode off towards his tent. General Gertz and Colonel Ednor stood staring at the thousands of enemy soldiers. Eventually, General Gertz lowered his eyes and met Rut-ki’s gaze.
“The men from Hun-lo Heights?” asked the general.
Rut-ki nodded. “You are outnumbered, General. Worse, your men are starving and exhausted. We have the high ground, and you have nowhere to run. And if you did have somewhere to run, we have the cavalry to run you down. Your cause is lost. Accept the inevitable, and let your men live to return to their wives and children.”
Colonel Ednor raised an eyebrow when the Aertan general asked Rut-ki for an hour to think about it. She quickly agreed, but the colonel knew that General Gertz did not have the authority to surrender. Only General Kolling could do so, and Colonel Ednor knew that was not going to happen. When General Gertz turned and started back towards the camp, the colonel raced after him.
“Surely you aren’t thinking of trying to persuade General Kolling to surrender?” asked the colonel. “You must know him well enough by now to understand that he will never surrender.”
“What point is there in continuing the fight?” asked the general. “We will not win. Everything Rut-ki said is true. The 9th Corps demonstrated that yesterday. Men cannot fight when they are weakened by fatigue and starved for lack of food. Our morale couldn’t get any lower than it already is. What is the point?”
“Even if we lost,” posed the colonel, “we would take a good deal of the Lanoirian army with us. That would leave the way open for the other teams.”
“There are no other teams, Colonel,” retorted the general. “We are all there is in Lanoir.”
“I know that you and General Kolling have been speculating about such a situation,” frowned the colonel, “but you cannot know for sure.”
General Gertz stopped walking and faced the colonel. He frowned deeply as he stared in the colonel’s face.
“Kolling really has kept you in the dark, hasn’t he? Team Elmor and Team Chi have surrendered, Colonel. That is not a rumor or speculation. It is a fact. We learned that the very first time we saw Rut-ki.”
“But you cannot take the word of the enemy on such matters,” protested Colonel Ednor.
“I am not taking her word,” replied the general. “I am taking the words of Generals Somma, Ruppert, and Hanold. They were at the first parley. General Franz couldn’t make the meeting. He was already dead.”
Colonel Ednor gasped loudly. “Then we have known about this for two days already?”
General Gertz nodded.
“All of those men who died in the last two days have died for nothing?” scowled the colonel. “How many Lanoirians are up there waiting for us?”
“Over fifteen-thousand,” answered the general. “They are the army that accepted the surrender of Team Elmor. The smaller army that defeated Team Chi is what we have been battling so far.”
“We are doomed,” sighed the colonel. After a moment of thought, the colonel’s eyes narrowed with suspicion as he gazed at the general. “Why are you telling me all of this now? You and I both know that General Kolling will not surrender.”
“I agree,” replied the general, “but I will.”
“You can’t,” balked the colonel. “General Kolling is the team leader. He will not allow you to surrender.”
“And how will he stop me?” asked the Aertan general. “Will he order the 9th Corps to attack the 25th Corps?”
The colonel gasped in horror and nodded. “You know that he will.”
“I have seen the state of the 9th Corps, Colonel,” stated the general, “and I have seen the numbers of the Lanoirians. Which army do you think I would choose to engage if I had to pick one?”
“The 9th Corps is but a shell of its former might,” sighed the colonel. “The 25th Corps would destroy us easily, but I cannot believe that you look forward to us fighting each other.”
“I most certainly do not,” agreed the general. “Enough Federation blood has already flowed into the Lanoirian soil.”
Both men walked in silence for a long time, their troubled thoughts centered on the possible battle between two allied forces. Neither of the men was happy with the situation. When they finally reached the Federation camp, the soldiers were preparing for battle. None of the men seemed eager to engage the Lanoirians who were now visible to the entire camp. The two officers halted outside the large command tent.
“It would seem that your sword will be bloodied today,” the general said softly to the colonel. “You have a short time to decide who its victim will be.”
The colonel turned and looked at the Aertan general and saw him looking at the tent flap of the large command tent. He clearly understood the Aertan’s suggestion to kill General Kolling.
“You cannot be suggesting what I think you are suggesting?” gasped the colonel. “That would be treason.”
&n
bsp; General Gertz smiled thinly. “I know nothing of what you are talking about, Colonel. I know nothing about it now, and I assure you, I will know nothing about it later.”
The four guards posted outside the large command tent watched the two officers whispering to each other. They could not hear the words being spoken, but they could easily sense the furtiveness of the conversation. The colonel bit his lip as the internal conflict tore through his mind.
“Either way you must enter the tent,” the general said softly. “You either enter it to save the lives of your men, or you enter it to inform General Kolling that the 25th Corps is surrendering to the Lanoirians. I do not envy your task, but there is no other who can perform it. Good luck, Colonel.”
General Gertz turned and walked away leaving the colonel standing before the large command tent. The colonel turned and glanced at the four guards. Each of them immediately averted his eyes. Colonel Ednor knew right then that the guards suspected what the conversation had been about. He turned slowly and watched as the Federation soldiers prepared for battle. The men moved sluggishly as if preparing for a deed best avoided. The whole camp knew that they were going to die. He could see it in their faces and their movements. He turned back to the guards and nodded his head to one side, an unspoken order to leave their post. Not one of the men hesitated. They silently moved away from the tent and never looked back.
Colonel Ednor inhaled deeply, drawing on his courage to attempt the most vile of deeds. He straightened and marched towards the tent, throwing the flap back as he entered. General Kolling glanced up with a glare.
“What do you want, Ednor?” scowled General Kolling. “Have we so few men left that you have time to dally while they prepare for battle?”
The colonel smiled slightly. “I have a thought about the upcoming battle,” stated the colonel. “We might be able to save thousands of lives if things are handled correctly. Do you have the map of this area handy?”
The general raised an eyebrow in surprise and nodded. He bent down to pick up a map that was resting on the floor. When he straightened up, a knife flew across the table and struck him in the chest. The general gasped in pain, and he stared down at the knife sticking out of his chest. His face filled with rage, and his hand grasped the hilt of the knife. The colonel quickly drew his sword to finish off the general, but it proved unnecessary. As the general pulled the knife from his chest, his body tumbled to the floor. The battle for Lanoir was over.
Chapter 49
Watling Flats
As the sun rose over Duranga, King Arik and his advisors met in the common room of a deserted inn.
“What have the fairies reported, Prince Midge?” asked the king.
“Colonel Tamora leads the men of the 2nd Corps of Barouk,” answered the fairy prince. “They are moving on Tagaret as we speak. Colonel Hershey leads the Aertans of the 24th Corps. While they are also moving towards Tagaret, they appear to be operating separately from the Baroukans. The two armies are separated by at least a league.”
“They have had a falling out,” mused Alex. “I am not surprised.”
“Do you think they will band together to fight against us?” asked Mitar Vidson.
“That would be most unfortunate,” frowned Alex. “I think we should plan to attack them separately, but only one league of separation will make things rather difficult. We would have to gain a quick surrender from the 2nd Corps and disarm all of the men before the 24th Corps arrived. Should we fail to do that, they will most certainly join together, and the battlefield would be too chaotic for our purposes.”
“Colonel Tamora could stall indefinitely during negotiations,” frowned David Jaynes. “All he has to do is keep the flag of truce flying long enough. He knows that we will not attack him under such circumstances. He would also be aware of the 24th Corps coming along behind him. I don’t see how we can accomplish this. Maybe we should attack the 24th Corps from behind and then deal with the 2nd Corps.”
“No,” King Arik said forcefully. “The 24th Corps is more likely to surrender than the 2nd Corps. If we are to do battle this day, it will be against Colonel Tamora and his Baroukans. Colonel Tamora and his men must fall.”
“You plan to fight them?” questioned Mitar Vidson.
“I do,” the king affirmed. “I would rather fight ten-thousand men than chance a fight against twenty-thousand men. The 2nd Corps must be destroyed, and it must be destroyed quickly. When the 24th Corps arrives at the battlefield, I want them to know that continuing this war would be fruitless. I will demand their surrender at that point.”
“Our men will be exhausted by the time we get there,” frowned David Jaynes. “That is supposing that we can even get to them before they reach Tagaret. Even if we left this very moment, I doubt that we would arrive in time to stop them from reaching the walls of Tagaret.”
“The Red Swords will not be going, David,” replied the king. “We have only enough unicorns for the Men of Tor and the Rangers. You and the Red Swords will be left here to secure the prisoners from the 7th Corps and the 17th Corps.”
“Two-thousand men against ten-thousand?” questioned Mitar Vidson. “And those two-thousand have been up all night fighting the Battle of Duranga. You are risking much with this plan.”
King Arik nodded. “We do what must be done. May the gods be with us.”
“Prince Garong and the elves of Elderal will also be with us,” interjected Alex. “Perhaps we can also order the Army of the West and the Cordonian Army to accelerate their movement eastward.”
“Prince Garong and his people will be a welcome addition,” stated Queen Tanya, “but the others will not be battle worthy. They are too far behind. If they race to make it to the battle, they will be exhausted.”
“Understood,” countered Alex, “but their arrival would be a powerful inducement for the 24th Corps to surrender. The sight of another twelve-thousand men behind the Aertans will guarantee an immediate surrender. I am confident of that.”
The king nodded and turned towards the fireplace where Prince Midge was holding court on the mantle. The fairy prince was sending and receiving fairy messengers to and from every spot in the kingdom, keeping abreast of the other teams.
“Can the Army of the West arrive in time to be a factor, Prince Midge?” the king asked.
“That depends on where the battle is held,” answered the fairy prince as he held up his hand to forestall a reporting fairy. “They are incapable of reaching Tagaret today, even if they push hard, but if the battle were held further west, the odds would improve greatly.”
“That would give our people less time to prepare for battle,” frowned Mitar Vidson.
“Watling Flats,” Alex said decisively. “It is a half day west of the city. It is the perfect battlefield for what we must do.”
The king nodded solemnly. Watling Flats was the battlefield where King Arik defeated the prophet Azmet and his followers of Abuud. It was the battle that had cost Wylan his sight. The sudden thought of Wylan stirred great emotion in the king’s heart. He wondered how Zalaharic was making out with the healing of Wylan and Sheri.
“General Barbone surrendered Team Caldar yesterday,” Prince Midge announced loudly, “and Bin-lu reports that Rut-ki has managed to devastate Team Barouk. He is anticipating the enemy’s surrender this very morning.”
Shouts of joy filled the common room, but the celebration was short lived.
“That leaves only Team Mya threatening Alcea,” declared the king. “I want this war over today. Alex, you are familiar with Watling Flats. Go there immediately and survey the battlefield. I will be along shortly with the Rangers and the Men of Tor.”
Alexander Tork nodded. “Jenneva will be joining me. May I also take our red-headed friends?”
The king raised an eyebrow at Alex’s request to take the mages with him, but he did not need a lengthy explanation of the reason for the request to answer it. Instead he looked to the queen for her response. Theos was, after all, supposed to
be protecting the king.
“I see no problem with that,” answered Queen Tanya. “My magic will be sufficient to protect you here. Give Alex whatever he needs.”
The king nodded, and Alex turned to leave the meeting. Jenneva, Theos and Balamor followed. Without a word, they mounted their unicorns and took to the air. Before they had even risen far, Alex woke Bitsy and sent her on her way to find Prince Garong. An hour later, they landed in the great meadow called Watling Flats. For several moments after they landed, Alex sat on Kaz and gazed around the meadow. Flashes of memories of the Battle of Watling Flats flooded his mind, and he sighed with sadness. It was not a sadness for the outcome of the previous battle, for the Alceans had won a decisive victory, but rather a sadness for the amount of blood that has already been spilled to live in peace. He shook off his emotions and turned Kaz to the east. The others followed.
When he reached the eastern edge of the meadow, Alex continued along the Mya-Tagaret Road for another half league. That half league of road was bordered on both sides by thick forest. He dismounted and stared up at the treetops. The mages had also dismounted and they also stared up, wondering what was going through Alex’s mind.
“How does a tree mine work?” Alex asked softly.
Jenneva raised an eyebrow. Alex had never shown much interest in magic, and she could not remember him ever asking how a spell worked before.
“It is a magical force that swiftly expands the saps within a tree,” answered Balamor. “That rapid expansion of saps blasts apart the fibers of the tree. It all happens so quickly that it results in a large explosion, sending slivers of wood flying in all directions. The upper part of the tree, no longer having anything to rest upon, crashes to the ground.”
“But how is it aimed?” asked Alex. “And what determines the size of the blast?”
“It is an area spell,” answered Jenneva. “The size can be whatever the mage wants it to be, within reason, but there is seldom reason to vary it. As for aiming it, think of it as throwing a stone. If the tree is fairly close, it is hard to miss, but if you choose a tree quite distant, the odds of missing increase. What is going through your mind, Alex?”
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