Dark Quest

by Richard S. Tuttle

  King Austin watched as Alex climbed the steps and the number of his aides that were still standing shrank. He could control himself no longer. He gauged his shot well and tossed a huge fireball at Alex. The flaming projectile passed under Alex’s shield and bounced off the ward being maintained by the three magicians. At the same time, King Austin’s facade slowly disappeared to reveal Mordac.

  Alex laughed and charged up the steps. Mordac shoved the last of his aides at Alex and turned, running into the Palace. Alex knew his ward would not last once inside the Palace, but he ran down the corridor trying to find Mordac before the evil sorcerer could escape. He turned a corner and peered down a long, empty hallway. Mordac was gone.

  The Rangers flooded out of the Red Sword barracks and into the Palace. They immediately sealed all of the exits. The Red Swords were ordered into the Palace and began a room-by-room search. They found no Black Devils left. Mordac and his remaining band had somehow escaped.

  Duke Whitley herded the Dukes back into the Council Chambers while Egam retrieved John Secor and his daughter, Callie. Lord Habas, Jenneva, General Clark, and Colonel Gregor were also invited to attend the council meeting.

  When Egam arrived with his two companions, Duke Whitley started the meeting. “Council members, you have just witnessed the uncloaking of a false King. There never was a King Austin. The evil magician, Mordac, had his young female aide ensnare Duke Nelson in an illicit affair. She lured him out to his country estate where he was murdered. Mordac assumed his identity and did away with Nelson’s wife. Mordac killed King Eugene himself, using magic to immobilize the guards while he killed our king. Then he viciously killed the guards to indicate that Alexander Tork was the murderer.”

  Duke Whitley looked around the chamber to gauge the response of his audience. The majority was in a state of shock with pale faces and trembling hands. “The false King Austin then engineered a war with Sordoa and before it even began, he directed the Army to move its troops to Cordonia. This would ensure the annihilation of Targa and buy time for his men to steal all of the books he could find. Fortunately, Targa has many fine patriots, of which these few are but an example. These patriots discovered the false king and set about to reveal him to us. This Council should long remember their bravery and courage.”

  “Now, gentlemen, the one pleasurable item on my agenda is to introduce the heir to the throne, John Secor.”

  The Council rose and applauded John Secor with cries of “Long live King John”. John walked to the head of the table and waited for silence.

  “Gentlemen of the Council,” began John, “I am today, proud to be of Targan blood. You honor me with your call to assume the Throne, but I must decline.” John silenced the protests and continued. “I am of Royal blood, but I have never set foot in Targa before this month. I am a painter who lives in Cordonia and quite happily, I might add. I am extremely qualified to paint a portrait of your next king, but I am not qualified to be your next king. Targa is in a very extreme situation right now. Targa needs experience at its helm and I do not possess that experience. I also have no desire to be a king. I only want to paint.”

  John noticed the Council members looking at his Callie with uncertainty. “I do not think that a contest for King of Targa is in this country’s best interests right now. I have thought long and hard on this problem for the last few days and I believe that I have a solution that is good for Targa and good for the parties involved. My daughter, Callie, is of Royal blood, but I would not wish this responsibility on one so young. Duke Oscar Dalek is well qualified to lead this country, but, again, I think he deserves to live some of life before being saddled with the responsibility of running a great nation.”

  John paused to take a drink of water and verify that he still had everyone’s attention. “Council members, the only valid choice for King at this juncture in Targa’s history is Duke Byron Whitley. He is a capable and worthy man. He has shown his patriotism clearly as well as his courage and intelligence. This man has headed your Council for only a short time, but in that time I am sure that you have come to respect him. I urge this Council to make Duke Whitley, King Byron. And I would hope that Duke Whitley would formalize his adoption of Oscar Dalek before the Coronation. In this manner, the Royal bloodline will return to Targa in the children of Oscar and Callie, while the nation will have the benefit of excellent leadership in the meantime.”

  The Council Chamber was silent as the members digested what was being said. Finally, Duke Moran stood and applauded John Secor. Soon the entire Council was galvanized behind Duke Whitley as even the aggressive Council members saw the wisdom of John’s plan. The Coronation was set for the following day and papers for Oscar’s formal adoption were drawn up.

  Jake Wikers was first mate on the Royal Spear, the flagship of the Targan Royal Navy. Targa’s Royal Navy consisted of twenty large galleons fitted with catapults. They primarily patrolled the eastern coastline of Targa, but since the threat of hostilities with Sordoa, they joined together in a large fleet under the command of Admiral Jenton. The ships patrolled the strait between Melbin and the Isle of Grakus.

  Several days after the Targa fleet started their patrol, Jake spotted the Sordoan fleet of forty galleons starting a similar patrol to guard the entrance to their coastline. Sometimes the two fleets would pass, one going east while the other sailed west.

  The morning before King Austin’s unveiling, a dense fog blanketed the water. Jake had the helm of the Royal Spear as it led the column of ships westward towards Melbin.

  Admiral Jenton was on deck, smoking his pipe. “Damn this soup! The Sordoan fleet should be a half day ahead and I’d like to keep them in sight.”

  The slapping of the halyards and the creaking of the decks echoed strangely in the mist. Most of the men were still asleep when the lookout shouted, “Ship to port.”

  Admiral Jenton crossed the deck to portside and peered into the thick mist. He could see nothing.

  “More ships to port”, yelled the lookout.

  Jake looked towards his left and large shapes appeared out of the mist and solidified into Sordoan warships. Back along his line of ships he could hear the other lookouts crying their warnings.

  “Hard to starboard!” shouted the Admiral. “Put some distance between us and those foul Sordoans.”

  Jake fought the tiller and the Royal Spear began to veer northward. Shouts and cries filled the nearly still air. Men were streaming onto the deck to man the catapults and archers were taking to the rigging. The singing of catapults emanated from the following Sordoan warships and the large mast of the Royal Spear collapsed, spewing men and canvas across the deck and into the sea. The flagship lost headway and the next thing Jake knew he was falling into the water.

  Jake surfaced and found a long piece of beam to cling to. All around him he could hear the shouts of battle mingled with the cries for help. Loud crashing sounds reverberated along the water. Jake knew the currents of the area and was thankful that they flowed deeper into Targan waters. At least the ships of the Targan fleet that survived the lethal encounter would be along to pick him up.

  Jake floated for hours and the fog finally lifted. He could see no sign of a ship, neither friend nor foe. There was some debris floating within sight, but he could not see another human being. He floated all day without any hope of rescue. The night was hard on Jake. He couldn’t sleep for fear of drowning and the hours dragged by. The next day, he spotted a small fishing vessel sailing eastward. He conserved his energy as the ship came closer. Only when it appeared the ship might proceed too far north of him did he start to shout. He tried to climb up onto the beam to raise his visibility, but the log was too unstable. When he was almost abeam of the ship, it turned suddenly to the south and headed towards him.

  They pulled him aboard and he asked about other survivors. The fishermen were out of Danver Shores and had seen nothing of the King’s ships or survivors. Realizing that he was further north than he expected, he asked the fishermen to take
him to Tagaret. The fishing fleet at Melbin would be better situated to pick up survivors and he had to get word to the King about the attack. Sordoa had just declared war. Jake Wikers passed out and slept all the way to Tagaret.

  The plans for the Coronation in the morning were complete. The King’s Coronation was a public affair but was hastily arranged. The arrival of Sergeant Ferguson to the Council Chambers further complicated matters.

  “King Byron, er, Duke Whitley, Sordoa has attacked our fleet in the Grakus Strait. A fishing boat just delivered Jake Wikers, First Mate on the Royal Spear. The fleet was attacked yesterday morning and the flagship was sunk. The sailor indicated that it was a full-scale attack, but he can give no information on the amount of damages. I have sent a rider down to Melbin to check on the fleet.”

  “Very good, Sergeant. Let me know the minute we have further information. Make sure that Colonel Gregor and General Clark join me immediately and send the sailor in.”

  Jake Wikers was shown into the room and Duke Whitley introduced himself. “Tell me everything that you can about the situation before the attack and the fighting, itself.”

  Jake told the Duke about the forming of the fleet and the start of the patrols. He told about the first sighting of the Sordoan fleet and the Admiral’s attempts to keep track of their movements. He gave as much detail as he could about the attack and his subsequent rescue. General Clark and Colonel Gregor arrived and heard the pertinent parts of the story.

  “General Clark, how long before your men can be positioned in Melbin?” asked Duke Whitley.

  “Half of my men are headed for Melbin and the other half for Southland. The troops bound for Southland should be in position in three days. Those headed for Melbin will probably take a week.”

  “If our fleet had been destroyed, wouldn’t Melbin be a very tempting target for the Sordoans? Perhaps we should move the Red Swords there until your troops arrive?”

  The General gazed at the wall map. “No, I don’t think we can afford to leave Tagaret undefended. If the fleet is, indeed, gone, the Sordoans could just as easily skip Melbin and strike directly at the capital.”

  Oscar stood and joined the General at the wall map. “Byron, if the Navy no longer exists, I think we should use Targa’s merchant ships to create a new Navy. If we move immediately we can bring those ships into harbor and refit them for war. The smaller Dalek design ships could also be used with Fire Glue to protect Tagaret harbor.”

  “Yes,” added the General. “If we use the smaller ships at these two large islands offshore, we can protect the entrance to Tagaret harbor by firing Fire Glue at them as they pass by.”

  “Very well,” commented Duke Whitley. “Oscar, get your Captain Hill over here and get him started on organizing a Navy. Jake Wikers, you attach yourself to Captain Hill. Guide him through any areas that he is not familiar with. Colonel Gregor, organize the Red Swords so that we can spare some of them for sea duty.”

  Duke Ringal rose. “Duke Whitley, I think we should move the Coronation up to sunrise or name you Regent tonight. The Crown is going to have to issue decrees to get use of the merchant ships and several hours may be the difference between stopping the Sordoans and our defeat.”

  “Let us do both,” replied Duke Whitley. “It would appear that this Coronation is not going to be a splendid affair and I want as much time available for war developments as possible. Send criers out now informing the public of the change in the time of the ceremony. Let the Council vote now on my Regency so we can begin drafting the proper documents to form a Navy.”

  John Secor was chosen as an envoy to Sordoa, to open talks about peace. He would be taken on the Royal Yacht, Princess Lidia, to Trekum, the capital of Sordoa.

  Runners arrived during the night from both Melbin and Danver Shores. Many members of the Royal Navy had either washed up on shore or were rescued by fishing boats. Every Royal Navy ship had been sunk. Admiral Jenton had not been found.

  Captain Hill, fortunately, was in Tagaret. He was taking delivery of the fifth galleon from the Targa Shipbuilding Company. All merchant ships that entered Tagaret’s harbor were seized and refitted for war. Captain Hill sent one small ship up the coast with orders for all Targa ships to proceed to Tagaret to aid in the war effort.

  The King’s Coronation was held at sunrise and a surprisingly large number of citizens turned out to honor the new King. King Byron, Queen Marta, Prince Oscar, and Princess Callie were displayed to the joyous people of Tagaret. The ceremony was over quickly and the preparation for war began.

  The Council Chamber had been converted into a war room. Captain Tork arrived to discuss the best use of his Rangers. Captain Raymond Hill was commissioned as Admiral of the Royal Navy and Jake Wikers was promoted to Captain.

  “If I might make a suggestion,” interrupted Jake. “We should have the local fishermen create a large netting to be strung across the harbor entrance. If any of the Sordoan ships get by the Red Swords, they will get stuck in the net long enough to be bombarded from the shore.”

  “We need to get better intelligence on the Sordoan movements,” added Duke Eddington.

  Prince Oscar smiled at Colonel Gregor. “I’ll take care of that,” he offered.

  Orders were sent to the northeastern frontier garrisons to send troops to Tagaret and march them along the coast. Until the Royal Navy was reconstructed, any coastal city in Targa was a potential Sordoan target.

  Admiral Hill, Colonel Gregor, General Clark, and Captain Wikers went off to a corner and started mapping out a naval strategy to regain control of Targan waters. After several hours they came up with a plan that would be called brilliant, if it worked. It would mean the second loss of the Royal Navy if it failed. General Clark had King Byron pen a new decree. The Order would stop all shipbuilding in Tagaret until the new ships of the Royal Navy were outfitted. Shipwrights would work around the clock to complete the outfitting as quickly as possible.

  Chapter 14

  Incursion

  The border guard was getting tired of walking his route. The sun would be up soon and he would be relieved. He could hardly wait. He always started to yawn at this time of the night, even as the sky was beginning to lighten. The other guard was approaching, but they would pass soundlessly. After the first few hours on duty, the small talk to another passing guard seemed pointless. He allowed his mind to drift to thoughts of how he would spend his off time. Lost in thought, it took a while for it to register when the arrow pierced the neck of the other guard. That lax moment cost him his life as another arrow found his chest and buried its shaft deep within his heart.

  The Sordoans were up and charging over the border. Someone shouted an alarm and the Targan soldiers came streaming out of the barracks. The Sordoans were already within the camp and arrows streaked into the mass of men pouring out of the buildings. The Targans brandished their swords and close quarter fighting began, but it ended swiftly. The Sordoans were too great in number for the small Targan garrison and the victors started their march to Melbin.

  The Sordoan galleons sailed west out of the rising sun. The Targan shore batteries rushed to load their catapults and bring them to bear on the approaching ships. The forty galleons started firing their own catapults and the Sordoans’ targets were brightly illuminated. The Targan units were not being very successful, as they were firing into the sun. As the ships got closer, the accuracy of the Sordoan catapults increased greatly. Soon most of the Targan catapults were destroyed and the rest were unmanned, the Targan soldiers fleeing for the safety of the fort.

  The ships jockeyed for position as their catapults pounded the wooden fort. The smaller catapults within the fort were designed to defend against advancing infantry and were fairly useless against the ships. The ships were still out of range for the fort’s archers to engage, so the garrison hunkered down and withstood the naval barrage. The commander of the fort sent a messenger to Tagaret to describe the situation and request naval assistance.

  The barrage lasted
for three hours before the Sordoan infantry arrived from the border. The garrison of a thousand men now faced an army of five thousand Sordoans as well as the galleons offshore. The commander dispatched another messenger warning of the imminent capture of Melbin by Sordoan troops.

  The Sordoan infantry encircled the fort, staying just outside the range of the Targan archers and small catapults. After another three hours of pounding from the Sordoan catapults, the fort wall was breached. The Sordoan catapults concentrated on the wall around the breach and soon the entire side of the wall collapsed. The garrison commander knew he had little time remaining and organized his men in an attempt to break through the Sordoan line north of the fort.

  The soldiers raced out of the fort and charged the Sordoan infantry. Few of the Targans reached the Sordoan line and those that did died by the sword.

  Colonel Gregor entered the Sword and Shield and sat at a table. He ordered a drink and when he had finished it he left. He walked across town to the back door of the Palace Shadow and stealthily ascended the stairs. He knocked on Oscar’s door and was admitted. He looked around the room and chose a comfortable chair. “He won’t be long, Prince.”

  “Would you like a drink while we wait?” asked Oscar.

  Colonel Gregor didn’t get a chance to answer before there was another knock on the door. Oscar opened it and admitted Larc. “That was not a very long delay after the Colonel, Larc.”

  “Sorry, Oscar,” the spymaster replied. “I figured this would be a good chance to see if anyone was still shadowing the Colonel. There isn’t anyone.”

  “Okay,” began the Colonel, “let’s get this started. What news do you have regarding Sordoan troop movements?”