Ancient Prophecy

by Richard S. Tuttle

  General Fernandez rose and walked to the bars. “You have managed well getting in, but how do you manage to get out?”

  “What are you doing in a cell?” queried Alex.

  “I’m afraid I was too much of a patriot,” grinned the General. He nodded towards the next cell. “I am afraid our friend, John Secor, has not fared as well.”

  Alex moved to the next cell and peered in. John Secor hung from chains, appearing more dead than alive. Alex unlocked the cell door and entered. He looked at John Secor and was horrified. Mitchel should not have had such a quick death, but Alex knew he could not redo it. He walked back to General Fernandez’s cell. “General,” Alex inquired, “if I let you free how do I know that I can trust you?”

  “Our friend, John Secor, trusted me,” offered the General. “That is why I am in this cell. He came to me about the treachery that got Mitchel elected. Before I was able to act upon it, I was arrested. They tortured him for information and some of that information included his having talked to me. When they realized that I did not have him arrested, they arrested me.”

  Alex unlocked the General’s cell door and returned to John Secor’s cell. The General walked up behind him. “Alex, call me Julio. Anyone that I owe my life to gets to call me Julio.”

  “Well, Julio,” ordered Alex, “hold John up while I undo these cuffs.” Swiftly, they had John unshackled and laid on the cot.

  “You still haven’t answered my question,” Julio said. “How are we getting out of here?”

  “I noticed your Army is on alert,” mentioned Alex. “Are they planning on attacking Targa soon?”

  “I don’t know where you have been, Alex,” answered Fernandez, “but the war has already started. Mitchel ordered the attack yesterday.”

  “Can you stop it?” inquired the Ranger Colonel.

  “Not while Mitchel is in office,” declared the Cordonian General. “In fact, I will be killed if I am found loose.”

  Alex turned and faced the General. “Mitchel is no longer President. His closest twelve Black Devils are with him.”

  General Fernandez whistled softly. “I have many things to learn from you, my friend. I would not have believed it humanly possible. You must have many of your Rangers with you.”

  “I came alone,” replied Alex impatiently. “Can you stop the war?”

  “I will give you my life trying, friend,” answered Julio solemnly. “How do you plan on getting out of here?”

  “With your help,” offered Alex. “Grab his arm and help me get him up the stairs.”

  The three men exited the basement and climbed the stairs. At the first floor they had to wait for a guard to pass through the hallway before they could continue up. When they reached the third floor General Fernandez saw the opening in the roof.

  Kaz, lower the rope.

  General Fernandez watched in fascination as the horse on the roof lowered a rope. “You will never cease to amaze me, Alexander Tork. I won’t even ask how you got the horse up on the roof, just tell me how much time you need to get safely away. The only way that I can realistically claim to be free is to concoct a story about President Mitchel releasing me when he realized his mistake. Even then, the story will only hold if I give everyone something more important to worry about, such as an escaped prisoner and a dead President.”

  “As soon as I get John safely on the horse, you can scream all you want, Julio,” Alex replied and climbed up the rope. “Tie the rope around his waist and hold it taut so he doesn’t hit the side of the opening.”

  General Fernandez did as he was instructed and they soon had John Secor up on the roof. Alex lifted him up and placed him on Kaz’s back. John was awake, but anything he said was incoherent.

  “I am afraid he is asking you to kill him,” suggested General Fernandez.”

  “If he dies, he will die in Targa where he belongs,” declared Alex.

  “I cannot argue with that,” the General replied sadly. “For what it is worth, Alex, I am sorry for what has happened to John. The Cordonian people loved him and he loved them in return. He will be missed.”

  “I’m sorry, Julio,” sighed Alex. “My anger should not be directed at you or the Cordonian people. Targa had the same problem with Mordac posing as King Austin. Farewell, my friend. May we meet again.”

  General Fernandez waved as Alex hopped on his horse and trotted across the roof. He was not in a position to see Kaz’s wings come out and the unicorn lift off into the dim sky. The General turned and proceeded down the stairs. He entered the Presidential Suite and reviewed the carnage. Curious, he paused at one of the bodies with a quill sticking out of it. He removed the quill and examined it. Smiling broadly, he moved through all of the rooms and collected all the quills he could find and stuck them in a flower box.

  He moved down to the first floor and stood in the middle of the hallway and started shouting for the guards. The first guards skidded to a halt in amazement at seeing the General, but he quickly issued orders to them and they did not have time to ponder the General’s change in favor. The rest of the soldiers to arrive already saw others following the General’s orders and did not even consider the problem. Within moments the entire Presidential Palace was awake and searching for the intruder.

  Shouts erupted from the second floor announcing the death of the President. General Fernandez marched up the stairs to the second floor and entered the Presidential Suite. A crowd of soldiers was gathered in the President’s bedroom when the General arrived. The crowd parted for the senior officer and General Fernandez paused an appropriate amount of time before speaking.

  “The President is dead. I am assuming Command of the country until an emergency election can be held. You and you, get runners to notify all Troop Commanders of the President’s death and my Command. The rest of you scour the Presidential Palace. I want the assassin apprehended or you’ll all be marching to the Front. I’ll be in my office.”

  General Fernandez turned and stormed out of the room. None of the soldiers detected his smile.

  Kaz carried Alex and John Secor over the rooftops heading southeast. They circled back over the water and Kaz set down on the end of the dock where the Dalek Shipping Company was located. Kaz automatically launched into his horse impression and walked down the dock to the warehouse. Alex jumped off and opened the warehouse door and led Kaz through. He closed the door and headed for Oscar’s private office and the closet within. Quickly, he maneuvered through the Doors to Lord Habas’s library. Lord Habas was waiting and helped Alex dismount John Secor. Lord Habas laid John on a cot and told Alex to summon the King’s Physician.

  Within minutes the Physician arrived and the King and his party were not far behind. Jenneva ran and threw her arms around Alex and cried. King Byron walked over and laid his hand on Alex’s shoulder.

  “We are glad to you have back, son,” the King whispered. “Was there any sign of Oscar?”

  “No,” Alex answered. “President Mitchel seemed unaware of any baby or anything other than the Book of the Beginning.”

  “You spoke to the Cordonian President?” gasped General Clark.

  “Just before I killed him,” replied Alex coldly. “General Fernandez was in jail, as well. I freed him and he helped me get John up to the roof. He promised to try and get the Cordonian troops recalled from the war. I believe he will try.”

  “General Gregor,” ordered King Byron, “send word to the Front. If the Cordonian troops withdraw, they are not to be chased.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” saluted General Gregor.

  “Dalgar commanded the raid,” spat Alex, “and the Book of the Beginning has been delivered to Sarac.”

  “You two need to get some sleep,” King Byron said to Alex and Jenneva. “I am sorry to say it, but Targa is going to need some more of your help and you will need to be fresh. Use Prince Oscar’s room. I don’t think we will be seeing him today.”

  Jenneva pulled gently at Alex’s sleeve and led him down the corridor. “Don�
��t ever let me doubt your abilities again, Alexander Tork. And don’t you ever exclude me again. Waiting for you not to return is the worst feeling you could ever imagine.”

  Alex swept Jenneva up into his arms and carried her down the corridor. “You won’t ever find me away from your side again.”

  Chapter 17

  Tower of Destruction

  Lattimer marched into Sarac’s office and sat in a chair waiting for Sarac to notice him. Several minutes went by and still Sarac seemed to be so engrossed in the Book of the Beginning that he failed to notice his visitor. Lattimer loudly cleared his throat and Sarac’s eyes rose over the top of the large tome.

  “Ah, Lattimer,” greeted the Dark One. “I trust the release of the ogres has gone well. Have you directed them to push south into Targa?”

  “They are already on their way,” clarified Lattimer. “The castle atop Kalas Mountain was also completed ahead of schedule.”

  “Excellent!” exclaimed Sarac. “Make arrangements to have my goods moved immediately. You were correct in advising me to use ogre labor on that project. You are to be commended.”

  “Your belongings are already on the way,” offered Lattimer, “but there are some problems with the plan.”

  “It appears that everything is progressing satisfactorily,” commented the leader of the Black Devils. “What type of problems do we have?”

  “The Sordoan Army is bogged down,” reported Lattimer. “The Targans have thrown everything they have against the Sordoans and the leadership of the Sordoan Army has little enthusiasm for the fight.”

  “Are you saying that Borundi doesn't know what he is doing?” inquired Sarac.

  “Borundi is no longer a factor,” stated Lattimer. “Borundi was killed in Trekum. From the reports, I believe it was done by Jenneva and her boyfriend, Alexander Tork.”

  “That woman is becoming a thorn in my side,” spat Sarac. “What about Aurora and the baby?”

  “Aurora is dead, but the baby cannot be found,” admitted Lattimer. “The populace prevented the guards from capturing Jenneva and Alex, as well. I’m not sure the Sordoan Army will prevail.”

  “The Sordoan Army is of little consequence,” pondered Sarac. “The ogres will distract the Targan Army, but the child must be found and destroyed. I should have commanded Mitchel to make sure that Jenneva was killed at Atar’s Cove, though.”

  “Mitchel is also no longer a factor,” declared Lattimer. “Someone broke into the Presidential Palace and killed Mitchel and twelve of his devotees.”

  Sarac smashed his fist on the desk in rage. “Someone broke into the Presidential Palace and killed the President of Cordonia?” shouted the Dark One. “You can’t be serious? How does someone break into a Palace with a thousand men guarding it and kill my President?”

  “They came in through the roof,” replied Lattimer sheepishly. “There was an old roof access hatch that was not guarded.”

  “That certainly does not clarify how they got on the roof in the first place,” scolded Sarac. “Who would devise such a suicide mission? Was there anything on the bodies of the attackers that we can use to identify them?”

  Lattimer gazed at his boots uncomfortably and shifted in his seat. “There were no bodies of attackers found. No one even saw them. I think the enemy was gone before the body of President Mitchel was discovered.”

  “Incomprehensible!” exclaimed Sarac. “Someone waltzes into the Palace, kills the President and leaves. No one sees them come or go, but they find a hole in the roof, a roof that they could not get onto or off of. I think not, Lattimer. I think it was somebody already inside the Palace and the hole in the roof was made to mislead us.”

  “I don’t agree, braved Lattimer. “John Secor, the rightful heir to the Throne of Alcea, was imprisoned at the time. Whoever killed Mitchel made off with John Secor. I think it was the Targa Rangers because one of the deaths was by a Lanoirian Star and others exhibited signs of poisoning. The Lanoirian Star and poisoned quills are known tactics of Tork’s Rangers.”

  Sarac slammed his chair back into the wall and started pacing. Abruptly, he turned and slammed his balled fists onto the desk, staring directly into Lattimer’s eyes. “Let me see if I understand you, Lattimer. Aurora gets killed, but my heir is lost somehow and we lose Borundi in the process. Then somebody kills Mitchel and makes off with the Alcean heir. The two absolute chances we have of making sure that the prophecy goes my way are lost to us. That is what you are telling me, isn’t it?”

  Lattimer started trembling and attempted to steel himself against Sarac’s gaze. “Even with John Secor free,” he postulated, “I don’t think he will last long. Mitchel tortured him close to death. I think we may be fortunate in another regard, though. The Sordoans sunk the Princess Lidia, the Targan Royal Yacht. My sources say that Princess Callie and her child were on the ship when it went down and there were no survivors.”

  The Dark One straightened up and resumed pacing. “Presumed dead is not good enough,” spat Sarac. “I want proof that they are dead. I want their bodies found. You see that their bodies are found, Lattimer.”

  Sarac returned to the desk and sat back down. “Why are these messages not coming directly to me?” he questioned. “Why do you think it necessary to intercept each of these messages? Is there something you’re hiding from me?”

  “Not at all, my Lord,” Lattimer quickly answered. “I have stopped all traffic coming in from the Dusty Trail Inn because we have had an infiltrator. My men are still trying to track him down and I did not want to take the chance of any of his associates getting through. My actions are not meant to keep the couriers from you, only a security measure.”

  “An infiltrator?” puzzled Sarac. “Why would anyone want to come here?”

  “Not here,” corrected Lattimer. “Someone took a room in the Dusty Trail Inn and during the night, came through to this Universe. Whoever it was, commanded an ogre to carry him to the ogre Junction. Once there, he set the ogre to sleep. When it came time to move the ogres through the Junction to Targa, we noticed the cart missing and started investigating. Even if this person discovers some information about our plans, he can no longer get out.”

  The Dark One sat silently for a long time and Lattimer shifted nervously in his chair. Finally, Sarac sat erect. “Someone is trying to get to Alutar!” he exclaimed.

  “Why?” questioned Lattimer. “There is nothing to be gained by someone talking to Alutar unless...“

  “Unless they seek to become the Dark One?” finished Sarac.

  “That’s not exactly what I was going to say,” clarified Lattimer. “Alutar has already proclaimed you the Dark One. What if someone was seeking to imprison Alutar again or stop him from proclaiming a Dark One?”

  “The Mage?” queried Sarac. “I thought he hasn’t been heard of for a thousand years?”

  “Neither has Alutar,” reminded Lattimer. “You know that if the Mage was to imprison Alutar again, you would still be the Dark One and you would not have to contend with the demon getting in your way. Perhaps we should let the Mage succeed.”

  “Are you forgetting Alutar’s threat?” asked Sarac. “I do not treasure the thought of his punishment.”

  “Ah,” explained Lattimer, “that was only if you failed to deliver on your part of the bargain. You have no control over the Mage.”

  “I don’t think Alutar would make the distinction,” sighed the Dark One. Sarac sat tapping his fingers on the Book of the Beginning. “I had planned to lead Alutar into this Universe and proclaim my part of the deal completed. I cannot do that with the Mage and the demon in battle. I can, however, free Alutar and fulfill my bargain and still leave the Mage to imprison him.”

  “How can you do both?” quizzed Lattimer.

  “We can assume that either the Mage and Alutar are already in battle or they soon will be. We need to relocate to Mount Kalas immediately. Once we are there we will destroy the Universes. The Mage will then imprison Alutar and everything will be as I wish
.”

  “How does destroying the Universes free Alutar?” questioned Lattimer.

  “According to the Book of the Beginning, when you destroy a Universe you merge its contents with the one you are in. If I destroy all of the Universes, everything will merge with the one that I am in when I cast the spell. That is why we travel to Mount Kalas. That is the Universe I wish to survive.”

  “But why destroy the very Universes that you wish to control?” inquired Lattimer.

  “What does it matter whether the peoples whom I wish to control are in one Universe or seven?” offered Sarac. “I will still control them all and I can create more Universes as I need them, just like the Mage will do to imprison Alutar. In fact, only one Universe in the beginning will make it easier for me to control. I can create lush new Universes and use them as rewards. Those who do an especially worthwhile deed will be allowed to enter a new Universe.”

  “Brilliant!” conceded Lattimer. “I will issue the orders immediately.”

  The old man continued his search for Alutar in the ogre Universe, Sagina. For three days he searched by following the path of greatest destruction, but there had been no sign of the demon. With night coming on, Egam decided to make a camp for the night. The camp would be a cold camp, one without a campfire, so that Alutar would not find him while he was not expecting it. The Mage selected as pleasant a site as he was likely to find in this devastated Universe. By the side of a once flowing creek under what must have been a beautiful orchard, Egam spread out a cloth to keep the morning dampness off and laid his pack down for a pillow.

  Egam lay resting, sleep not yet within his grasp, when he noticed a pair of eyes staring at him from above. Egam remained still for a long while watching the twin lights in his peripheral vision. When he detected no change in the dual beacons, he called out. “Are things so bad here in Sagina that the fairies no longer welcome a friend?”

  The eyes darted quickly away to another position, but did not leave the campsite. “The fairies no longer have friends,” came the tiny voice. “Only ogres and magicians inhabit this land.”