“I thought we was going to bring him up?” questioned one of the seaman.
The only good Targan is a dead one,” cackled the Mate.
“All of you, listen up,” shouted the Captain. “No Targan can be allowed to live to tell of the sinking. Our Army is just days away from attacking Targa and they need surprise if they’re going to succeed. I’ll have no more crying out of ya. Get back to watch and look for more survivors.”
The seamen returned to their tasks, grumbling under their breath. They didn’t care much for leaving sailors to the fate of the sea when it could be helped, but they knew the Captain well enough to keep their complaints to themselves. Still, they didn’t have to like it much.
The Captain was pleased with himself and hoped he could find another lone Targan vessel before the sun came up. If there were any more survivors, he knew they wouldn’t last the night.
Chapter 15
Dusty Trail Inn
Alex silently slid into the shadows as the Sordoan patrol emerged out of the garden and marched along the path that ran along the wall. The Sordoan Royal Palace was well prepared for intruders, having learned a deadly lesson during the last war with Targa. Alex had made his way undetected to the Palace and over the wall into the garden. Unlike his last attempt to penetrate the Palace’s defenses, the Royal Guard was prepared this time. Colonel Tork had not been able to get past the garden and risked detection with every passing moment.
Instead of six hundred men waiting in the barracks for the call to duty, clearly half of them were already assigned throughout the Palace grounds. Alex waited until the patrol passed down the path and stealthily stole his way back to the Palace’s outer wall. Alex clawed his way up the wall and lowered himself down the other side. Checking the tower guard, Alex made his way across the grass and into a ditch. He crawled his way down the drainage ditch until he was hidden from the tower, ever thankful of the heavy rain that had cleared most of the refuse out of the ditch.
Silently, he crept out of the ditch and pressed his body against a building and melded with the shadows. Even the streets of Trekum were well patrolled this night and for a Targan Colonel to be caught skulking around the capital of Sordoa, there would be an instant death sentence. Several times on his way back to the warehouse of Continental Shipping, Alex encountered roving patrols. Each time he managed to hear them coming and was able to slide into the shadows before they passed.
Alex slid up to the back door of the warehouse and knocked. Seconds later the door opened and the Targan Colonel slipped inside. With a sigh of relief he slumped down on the mat next to Jenneva.
“We need to find a better way,” Alex announced. “There must be three hundred men on patrol duty at the Palace tonight. Even the streets are crowded with soldiers. The Royal Guard does learn from their mistakes and I doubt that we could get in to see Aurora and get back out again. One-way, maybe.”
“One-way is not acceptable, Alex,” declared Jenneva. “There are too many variables at play here. Aurora’s child may not even be with her when we get inside.”
“Why don’t we sleep on it?” suggested Eddie. “Tomorrow may bring another opportunity and haste could ruin our chance.”
Jenneva and Alex nodded their approval and drifted off to sleep. Morning came much too soon for Alex’s liking, but he scrambled to his feet and saw Jenneva and Eddie peering out the door. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Not sure,” whispered Eddie. “There is some commotion at the Royal Palace. Sounds like fighting.”
Alex pushed the door open and stepped outside, straining his ears to determine the nature of the fighting. He heard the bang of explosions and witnessed the sight of a fireball soaring to one of the guard towers. He reached back and grabbed Jenneva by the arm.
“Let’s go,” he urged. “There is definitely fighting and magic use at the Royal Palace. Someone is killing the Royal Guards.”
Jenneva needed no further urging. The two Targans ran towards the main street of Trekum, which was the most direct route to the Palace gates. Alex and Jenneva screeched to a halt before they reached the main thoroughfare. Aurora, clutching her child, was running away from the Royal Palace surrounded by a dozen Royal Guards.
“Go that way!” Alex instructed Jenneva, indicating a street parallel to Aurora’s escape route. Turning towards Eddie, who had retrieved his sword and just caught up to the couple, he shouted, “Follow me, Eddie. It looks like the Royal Guards could use some help.”
Jenneva took off at a run, trying to get herself to a position in front of Aurora, while Alex and Eddie headed for the main street of the city. Even before they reached the intersection they saw fireballs slamming into the Royal Guard escorts and watched several of the bodies fall to the ground in flames. Just as they reached the corner, a group of black-robed magicians appeared chasing Aurora. Without hesitation, Alex drew his sword and waded into the Black Devils, slashing magicians left and right. Eddie put his back to Alex and started attacking the evil magicians, as well.
All along the street, merchants and citizens came running out of shops and houses carrying anything they could grab to use as a weapon. The crowd converged on the Black Devils and tore into them with sticks, shovels and bare hands. Alex eased his way out of the crowd and headed after Aurora. As soon as he cleared the human wall of citizens, he saw Jenneva and a Black Devil in magical battle. Aurora’s body lay flaming in the street alongside her remaining bodyguards. There was no sign of the baby.
Alex charged towards the Black Devil and the magician’s attention was drawn away from Jenneva, who continued to pound him with fireballs. The crowd surged away from the two magicians and the flaming projectiles.
“It’s Borundi,” screamed Jenneva, “be careful.”
Borundi tossed a fireball at the charging Targan Colonel and Alex deflected it with his sword. Three more strides brought Alex within range of Borundi and his sword easily sliced through the Black Devil’s neck, severing his head. Jenneva ran to Aurora’s body and extinguished the flames with Aurora’s discarded cloak.
More Royal Guards arrived on the scene and surrounded Alex. Alex saw Eddie coming and waved him off. The Guards stood menacing with their swords drawn and advanced on Alex. Almost immediately, the citizens fought through the ranks of the guards and surrounded Alex themselves, facing outward towards the Royal Guards.
“Come on. Clear the way,” one of the Guards shouted. “Let me get the Targan pig so he can die properly. You’ll get your chance to watch the hanging.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” spat an old woman holding a rake. “This Targan did more to try and save the Empress than the whole lot of you fancy-dressed boys.”
Jenneva left Aurora’s side and merged into the crowd of bystanders.
“The Targan is a Colonel in the Rangers,” the Guard spat back. “Do you remember who killed the Sultan? This man is an enemy in time of war. He probably was chasing the Empress to kill her himself. Get out of the way or we’ll carve our way through you.”
“We care little for who killed the swine of a Sultan,” shouted an old bald man. “If you fancy boys don’t go back to your Palace, we’ll kill you like we killed the magicians that was chasing our Empress.”
The Guard who had assumed command looked around at the angry crowd that had grown to hundreds of citizens shaking their fists and crude implements. Gruffly, he ordered his men to retreat and was heard to issue orders to seal off the city so they could apprehend the Targan when he tried to leave.
The Guards left and the crowd relaxed and spread around their fallen Empress. Alex thanked them for saving him, but the only acknowledgment he received were a few nods. Jenneva was working the crowd trying to find out what became of the baby, but everyone she talked to remembered seeing Aurora carrying the baby and no one saw what happened to her child.
Eddie pulled Alex out of the crowd and told him to return to the warehouse before anyone arrived to follow him. Jenneva and Eddie spent the rest of the day t
alking to the citizens trying to find out what became of the baby. Whatever happened to the child, no one was talking about it.
Oscar awoke with his face resting on a goose feather pillow. He tried to turn over and a searing jolt of pain shot up his spine.
“Easy there, fellow,” soothed an elderly man’s voice. “You’ve got quite a hole in ya.”
Oscar reached for his sword and found it missing. “No need for that now,” continued the soothing voice. “No one here will harm you. You can have your sword back when you’re ready to leave. Here, now, I’ll help you sit up so you can see we are not a threat.”
The old man’s hands grabbed Oscar’s shoulders and gently twisted him into a sitting position. He grabbed the pillow and stuffed it behind Oscar and leaned him backwards against the wheel of a wagon. Oscar looked up and saw the wise eyes of a traveling gypsy. Across the field Oscar could see several men digging.
“The baby?” Oscar croaked, his throat feeling raw.
“There’s no baby,” declared the gypsy. “You’re friends must have taken the baby with them. Must have left you for dead, though.”
“What friends?” quizzed Oscar.
“The friends that killed all of those bandits,” frowned the gypsy. “Surely, you didn’t kill them yourself, did you?”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Oscar said, struggling to sit more comfortably. “I remember the sound of an arrow and the pain in my back. Then...nothing, just blackness.”
“Well, you must have had friends with you then,” stated the gypsy. “They left twenty dead bandits, they did. My boys have spent all morning burying the bodies.”
Oscar was confused and could make no sense of what the man was saying. He gazed over the field and saw the white form of Yorra lying still with a body atop her head.”
“What about my horse?” he asked.
“Dead, I’m afraid,” sighed the old man. “Quite a shame, too, she was a beautiful animal. Can’t imagine bandits doing such harm to a defenseless animal. Must be six arrows in her and sword slashes, as well. She must have tried to protect you.”
Yorra, I’m so sorry to have gotten you mixed up in this. Forgive me.
It’s not your fault...Oscar. There were...too many.
“Yorra,” shouted Oscar as he tried to get up. The sharp pain ripped through his back and he tipped over onto his side.
“Easy, young man,” scolded the gypsy. “You’ll kill yourself that way and waste all the time I’ve invested in you. Your horse can be replaced, if that is who Yorra is.”
Oscar gritted his teeth as the gypsy eased Oscar back to a sitting position. “Perhaps I should lay you back down, if you’re going to get emotional. You still need a great deal of rest.”
“No,” sighed Oscar. “You don’t understand. Yorra is not dead. She needs help, but she is not dead. Please, I beg you, help her.”
Just then, one of the gypsy’s sons lifted the bandit’s body off Yorra’s head and gasped. Ora! Ora, come here! It’s not a horse, it’s a unicorn.”
The gypsy looked queerly at Oscar and trudged across the field towards Yorra. He kneeled down at Yorra’s head and gazed at the bloodied horn and shook his head. He looked into Yorra’s staring eye and started shouting orders. The gypsy’s boys all ran over to the unicorn and a woman came out of the wagon and hurried to Yorra’s side. For over an hour the gypsy family hovered over Yorra. Occasionally one boy or another would run back to the wagon for something or be directed to get water or heat implements over the fire.
Oscar drifted in and out of consciousness several times. Eventually, Oscar awoke to the tangy aroma of a venison stew. He opened his eyes and Ora knelt beside him with a bowl of stew and a cup of goat’s milk. “It is good that you rest, young man. Here is some of Beka’s famous stew. Eat, it will work wonders on your tired body.”
Oscar looked frantically around the campsite for Yorra. “Don’t worry,” Ora whispered. “Your unicorn is safe. She is a very healthy animal and beautiful. My boys did not believe the unicorns existed, but I told them that the old stories are true and they should believe them all. Still, they have to actually touch the horn before they believe. I don’t understand young people today. They have no faith. Anyway, I ramble on like the old man that I am. Your Yorra will be fine. She is in much better shape than you are. Tomorrow she will be ready to dance on the rainbow again, but you will have to watch from here.”
Oscar reached out and laid his hand on Ora’s arm. “Thank you,” he croaked. “Thank you for Yorra.”
“People must always help each other,” offered the gypsy. “The only thanks you owe me is your story. You must tell me of the unicorn and how you came to be here and why the bandits wanted to kill you and what baby you were looking for and how you knew the unicorn was alive and...“
Oscar coughed up a laugh and squeezed the old gypsy’s arm. “I will tell you everything, Ora, but first you must help me eat. It pains me to raise my arm.”
Alex and Jenneva passed back through the Door to Colonel Gregor’s office, weary and depressed over losing Aurora’s baby. They walked down the corridor in silence and entered the King’s Study. King Byron, Lord Habas, Larc, and the two Generals were present and the King stopped speaking in mid-sentence. Everyone stared at them and the feeling made Alex suspect something ill.
“Aurora is dead,” offered Jenneva, “and her baby is missing. Black Devils chased her down the street and killed her and the baby disappeared in the crowd. Whether the baby’s disappearance is magical or not, I don’t know.”
Alex watched the expressions on their faces and thought that their news was worse. “What is it?” he demanded. “You have the look of mourning on your faces.”
Everyone looked at King Byron and finally the King spoke. “Prince Oscar never returned from Atar’s Cove. Lord Habas went to check on him and found dead Black Devils on the island. Shanor is dead and Prince Oscar and the baby are missing.”
Jenneva screamed and ran through the door with Alex right behind her. They raced down the stairs to Lord Habas’s library and through the series of Doors that took them to Jenneva’s study at Atar’s Cove. The study was trashed with books lying in heaps on the floor. Together they raced down to the bedroom and confirmed the baby’s absence. Despair overtook Jenneva and she threw herself down on the bed crying. Alex left the building and walked along the path to where Shanor’s body lay.
Tofu lay curled around the young girl’s body and stood up when Alex approached. Alex gently picked up Shanor’s body and carried it into the garden at the rear of the house. He laid her down on a bench as he dug a grave for the young girl.
When Alex was finished with the grave he returned to the path and knelt over the dead magicians. He tore open their pouches, dumped the contents on the path, and proceeded to sift through the pile. He hastily dug a pit for the two bodies in the jungle and covered them up.
Alex walked the paths of the island, his rage building with every step, and searched for any signs of the baby, Oscar, or Yorra. Finished with his inspection, he returned to the house and gathered together a bunch of supplies before he went upstairs and found Jenneva cleaning up the study.
“Leave it,” he snarled. “It doesn’t matter any more.”
Jenneva looked up and saw the fury and rage in Alex’s eyes mixed with despair. It was a look she had never seen before and one she hoped she would never see again. “They didn’t come for the baby, Alex” calmed Jenneva. “They came for the Book of the Beginning. That’s why the study is a mess. No other rooms were searched. Perhaps Oscar got away with our baby somehow.”
“Or they may have taken Oscar, as well,” he snapped. “Yorra’s gone. Tofu is alive and the only thing left on this island that is worth anything. Leave it and let’s go.”
Jenneva stared at her husband and realized that something inside him had died. He stood there with coils of rope, large metal hooks, and weapons of every type strapped onto his body in every conceivable place. Before her stood a one-man army wit
hout a heart, looking for someone to kill. “Where are we going?” she whispered.
Alex tossed a gold coin onto the desk and walked towards the Door as it spun on the polished surface. “You’re going to the Royal Palace where I know you’ll be safe,” he ordered as he walked through the Door.
Jenneva looked at the coin as it stopped spinning. The distinctive mintmark of Cordonia told Jenneva what she wanted to know. Alex was going to kill President Mitchel. Jenneva ran through the Door after Alex.
“Alex, you can’t go without me,” she shouted. “The Presidential Palace will be loaded with Black Devils.”
Alex ignored her and walked through the Door to the Royal Palace. Jenneva quickly followed and continued shouting. “You’ll need magic to survive! You can’t do it alone.”
Jenneva followed him all the way to the King’s Study, pleading for him to come to his senses. When they entered the room the conversation stopped and everyone stared at Alex. Alex looked into the King’s eyes and spoke in a clear metallic voice. “My wife is in your protection, King Byron. I would advise you to keep her in this room until I return. I will hold you personally responsible for her safety.”
Alex turned and left the room calling for Kaz to meet him at the wizard’s library. Jenneva slumped into a chair and placed her head in her hands.
“What was that all about?” asked General Clark. “Are you going to let him threaten the King and walk out?”
Larc gave the General a scornful look. “A threat it was,” stated Larc, “but one that will never be carried out. By making the King responsible for Jenneva’s life, he has made Jenneva responsible for the King’s life. He knows all too well that we could not keep Jenneva here if she was determined to follow him, but she cannot risk harm to herself for fear of harm to the King. She knows that if he harms the King it will result in his death, so Jenneva is chained by her love for Alex.”
“Where is he going?” asked King Byron.
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