“You sound like you admire them,” spat Hagik. “You had best reserve your praise for the forces of Sarac.”
“Do not lecture me on my thoughts,” warned Calastano. “I know well where my loyalties lie, but I prefer a rational approach to analyzing events. What the Rangers did to repel our attack was brilliant. Even more so because I am sure that they did not plan it beforehand. They reacted with instincts that were honed during battle. We must keep that in mind the next time we are forced to engage them.”
“There will be no next time,” Hagik shook his head. “Arik is dead.”
Klarg turned as one of his Dark Riders approached. “What is it?” he asked.
“Another of our men has returned from the battle,” reported the Dark Rider. “He was thrown from his horse during the attack and hid when the dwarves pursued us.”
“So we only lost fourteen then,” mused Klarg.
“Yes,” nodded the Dark Rider, “but what he saw may affect our plans.”
“Report,” Klarg ordered crisply.
“Arik rose after the attack,” declared the Dark Rider. “He appeared to be unscathed by the assault.”
“Preposterous,” snarled Hagik. “He could not have survived at all, never mind unscathed.”
“Is there anything else?” asked Klarg.
The Dark Rider shook his head, and Klarg dismissed him. “I think the Price of Alcea is living a charmed life,” frowned Klarg. “We will have to attack again.”
“You believe this report?” Hagik asked incredulously.
“My men have no need to lie,” glared Klarg. “Whatever the reason behind Arik’s escape from the attack, there is no doubt that he survived. Perhaps we should try to kill him by more mundane means the next time.”
“That makes sense,” nodded Calastano. “Perhaps one of the Rangers maintains a magical shield around him at all times. I cannot think of any other way for him to have survived.”
“But the shield did not go up until the second set of fireballs was already streaming towards them,” protested Hagik.
“That shield covered the entire campsite,” explained Calastano. “That does not preclude a smaller shield being constantly maintained around Arik. Whatever the reason for our failure, I tend to agree with Klarg. The next attempt on Arik’s life should be a physical assault. A magical shield will not save him then.”
“Then we should regroup and attack while we know where they are,” decided Hagik.
“You want to initiate an attack while he is surrounded by thousands of dwarves?” questioned Klarg. “We were very fortunate to get away with so few losses tonight. Losing all of our men will not get us closer to succeeding in our quest.”
“I agree,” frowned Calastano. “The dwarves will not be leaving with Arik when he goes. The hard part will be making sure that he does not escape entirely.”
“If he escapes this time,” warned Hagik, “Sarac’s patience will be wearing thin. Are you really prepared to suffer that?”
“Given the choice between Sarac’s anger and certain death,” responded Calastano, “I will suffer the Dark One’s wrath for a short time. In the end, all that matters is our eventual success, and I feel confident that we will be successful.”
* * *
Konic Clava paced the floor of the Council Chamber in the Royal Palace of Tagaret. He stopped once more in front of the large wall map and frowned in frustration.
“You are going to wear the floor out with your pacing, Konic,” admonished Oscar Dalek.
“I can’t help it,” shrugged Konic. “It seems like everything is happening at once. We cannot continue to fortify Tagaret and still aid Mya and Tor at the same time. We just don’t have that number of men at our disposal.”
“Then it is a matter of priorities,” suggested General Gregor. “Obviously, Tagaret has to be our first priority, but aiding Mya and Tor may actually help save Tagaret. I agree that we cannot do both at the same time.”
“How are our preparations proceeding here in Tagaret?” asked Queen Marta.
“They are progressing as well as can be expected,” answered Oscar. “That is assuming that we have time to complete them before one of the attacking armies arrives on our doorstep. Do we have any idea if Azmet’s or Sarac’s armies will get here first?”
“I suspect that Azmet will be first,” responded General Gregor, “although I have no specific intelligence that says so. Our latest reports indicate that Azmet has solidified his command in Klandon. He could dally there for months or he could decide to leave for Mya in the morning.”
“What of Sarac’s army at Tor?” asked Alan Markel.
“There has been no further attacks at Tor,” answered General Gregor. “What bothers me is the movement of Dark Riders from Toresh. They have abandoned Sordoa and appear to be moving towards Tor. They do not appear to be in any hurry, though.”
“Do you think Azmet is working with Sarac?” questioned Konic.
“I have nothing that would indicate that,” declared General Gregor. “There can be little doubt that Sarac knows of Azmet’s movements, though. He manages to keep well informed about such things.”
“Then I think you are correct about the order of things,” nodded Konic. “He will let Azmet’s army take the brunt of the losses and only attack if Azmet fails. Sarac does not care to occupy Tagaret, after all. He only seeks to prevent Arik from assuming the throne.”
“That is how I read it,” nodded General Gregor.
“So we should offer assistance to Mya then?” asked Queen Marta.
“Mya is not a city that is easily defended,” frowned General Gregor. “It sits on both sides of the Boulder River and only has a single wall. The keep will only shield a small force of men, and if Azmet decides to disease the city, it will all be over quickly.”
“So you are saying that it is a lost cause?” questioned Alan.
“Not at all,” General Gregor shook his head. “I am saying that the best we can do at Mya is to buy time for the fortifications here to be completed. We cannot hope to halt Azmet before he reaches Tagaret.”
“What of all the women and children in Mya?” asked Queen Marta. “Surely we cannot let them stay there?”
“”No,” replied General Gregor. “They must be evacuated immediately. The question is where to send them. We could bring them downstream to Tagaret. They would be a great help in getting this city ready to defend, but they will also strain our supplies in time of a siege. The other option is to head them towards Southland. That city should be safe from conflict until the Lanoirians approach from the south.”
“And what of the defenders of Mya?” inquired Konic. “If they are merely meant to delay Azmet, then do they go to Southland with their families or come here to defend Tagaret?”
“Neither,” stated General Gregor. “When they have delayed as long as possible, they will leave to the north and head back towards Klandon. I am assuming that Azmet will not leave too many men in Klandon to defend it. King Altaro’s men should be able to retake Klandon without much trouble.”
“Won’t that be leaving them rather exposed if Azmet decides to follow them rather than march onward to Tagaret?” asked Alan.
“I hope that is what Azmet does,” General Gregor smiled thinly. “The Army of the West will be approaching Klandon by that time. King Altaro can join forces with them and engage Azmet in the open field. The Black Death will not be such a potent weapon under those circumstances.”
“The timing will be critical,” interjected Konic. “How will King Altaro know how long to delay at Mya before leaving?”
“Baron Timor of Southland has been keeping King Altaro posted on the progress of the Army of the West,” replied General Gregor. “There are timing problems, though. It is possible that King Altaro may not be able to hold Mya long enough to wait for the Army of the West.”
“Or Azmet may decide to march on Tagaret anyway,” added Oscar.
“That too,” nodded General Gregor. “If that hap
pens, then the Army of the West will have to hurry to save us.”
“How will we know what is happening?” asked Queen Marta. “How will we remain informed?”
“Sergeant Trank is setting up a line of Red Swords between here and Mya,” responded the general. “Messages will be relayed daily or more frequently as needed. When that is set up, we will institute one for Tor as well. Communications is going to be essential for our survival.”
“Can we use the fairies?” questioned Oscar. “They would be much quicker and less prone to detection.”
“Plus the Red Swords are needed here to train the Targa army,” added Konic.
“Will they obey you?” General Gregor asked Oscar.
“I am not sure,” admitted Oscar, “but we have only need to ask them to find out. Konic and I are the fathers of the Bringer. That should be worth something to the fairies.”
“I think that would be wonderful,” smiled the general. “It would free hundreds of Red Swords to help out here in Tagaret.”
“What about our defenses here?” asked Queen Marta.
“The pipe has been laid to bring fresh water into the city,” reported Konic. “Its source is well hidden and far enough away from the city that any diseased bodies dumped into the river will not affect it.”
“The river has been edged with smooth lumber as well,” added Alan. “Every dock and every bridge has been shielded from nooks that might capture the floating bodies. If they do try to disease the city via the river, the bodies will float out to sea.”
“We also are nearing completion on a new dock on the seacoast. It will be far away from the mouth of the river,” interjected Oscar. “We will be able to load four ships simultaneously.”
“Those docks are for evacuation?” asked the queen.
“They could be,” nodded Oscar, “but we can also use them to get our troops up or down the coast when the city is under siege. If we need to get cavalry out to flank the enemy, we will now have a way to do it.”
“We also have almost completed a fourth wall,” declared General Gregor. “It is not much of a wall right now, but it will stop their catapults from getting too close to the outer wall. There are no buildings behind it, so Azmet can hurl diseased bodies over it if he wants to.”
“I saw that from the palace window,” nodded the queen. “I wondered about the reason for it. It is not much of a wall. Can the army hold it against Azmet’s forces?”
“It will grow higher as time allows,” shrugged General Gregor. “I wanted the baseline of it completed first. The higher we can make it, the longer we can hold it. That is why we need King Altaro to delay Azmet at Mya. Every day he can hold out, we can add another level of rock to that wall.”
“It sounds like we are moving in the right direction,” declared the queen. “What do we tell our emissary from Tor?”
“I would suggest the truth,” answered Konic. “Tell them exactly what our situation is. If we can defeat Azmet, we will be free to send troops to aid in the defense of Tor.”
“We may be able to do that now,” suggested Oscar. “Our garrison at Tice is fairly isolated. Would it not make more sense to send them to Tor now?”
“It might indeed,” nodded General Gregor. “The purpose of the garrison at Tice was to allow us to get behind Sarac’s forces when they attacked Tagaret. As it stands now, our men would not be able to get through the pass at Tor. We could ship them down here to help defend Tagaret, but they will not be needed for Azmet’s army. It is Sarac’s forces that we will need them for.”
“I will suggest that to Lieutenant Montbalm then,” stated Queen Marta. “I suppose we have the ships available to get the men at Tice down the coast to some point below the Boulder Mountains?”
“We do,” affirmed Oscar. “We can transport them to Casper or Miram.”
“Excellent,” smiled Queen Marta. “What about Sarac’s people within our walls here? Have we been able to identify them all?”
“No,” frowned Oscar. “Zack Nolan has discovered a nest of them running a bakery in the city. He believes that they are hording a fair amount of gold that was stolen from our treasury.”
“Why have we not seized the gold already?” asked the queen.
“We have been waiting to see if they would lead us to any other minions of Sarac,” Oscar answered. “They have attempted to leave the city several times, but each time they feared having the gold discovered. I assume that they have no contacts left in the city. Should I have them arrested?”
“We are wasting resources watching them if they are not going to lead us to anyone,” sighed Queen Marta. “Are they all that we have found? Surely, Sarac has more people in Tagaret than that.”
“That is my feeling as well,” frowned Oscar. “It will be hard for us to find them until they make a move. I will order their arrest and seizure of the gold. Perhaps that will flush some others out so that we can see them.”
“Be careful,” advised General Gregor. “Cornered rats have a tendency to get downright nasty.”
“Better we find out about them now,” declared Queen Marta. “We surely cannot afford to have them in the city when Sarac attacks.”
Chapter 3
Nine Stars
The Lanoirian officer sat calmly upon his horse as he watched the early morning traffic on the streets of Ongchi. Eight mounted Lanoirian soldiers waited patiently behind him. None of them spoke as the city began to waken, and the citizens scurried about on their morning chores. Almost an hour passed before the officer’s eyes detected a prisoner wagon approaching. He smiled thinly to himself and tossed his long black braid over his shoulder.
“That is our wagon,” the officer said softly. “Be alert.”
The soldiers silently nodded. As the wagon passed, the officer led his men out of the side street where they had been waiting. Four soldiers moved to each side of the wagon as it rode towards the Imperial Palace. The officer followed behind the wagon and observed the prisoners. The two Lanoirian soldiers driving the wagon gave puzzled glances to their new escorts, but they did not speak.
Moments later, the wagon halted at the gates to the Imperial Palace. The gate guards looked quizzically at the heavily escorted wagon. A gate officer stepped away from the gate and addressed the driver of the wagon.
“What do you have?” asked the gate officer as he gazed at the soldiers escorting the wagon.
“Deserters,” replied the driver of the wagon. “Deserters and one who has shamed the Emperor.”
The gate officer nodded knowingly and gave the signal to open the gates. He moved away from the wagon and watched it pass through the gates with its escort. He stiffened somewhat as he spotted the mounted officer following the wagon. The three gold stars on the mounted officer’s lapel indicated a supreme rank. The gate officer saluted smartly, as the mounted officer nodded and followed the wagon onto the grounds of the Imperial Palace.
The supreme mounted officer smiled grimly as he heard the gates closing behind him. The wagon moved at a leisurely pace as it passed through the plaza before the Imperial Palace and rounded the corner of the immense building. It came to a halt alongside a large door. As the two soldiers on the seat of the wagon jumped down and walked to the rear of the wagon, the supreme officer dismounted and tied his reins to a pole alongside the building. The eight soldiers accompanying him followed his example.
The door to the building opened, and a score of Lanoirian soldiers flowed through it to gather at the rear of the wagon. The supreme officer swiftly mounted the steps and led his men through the door of the Imperial Palace. He hesitated only briefly to let his black eyes adjust to the dimly lit room before leading his men towards the center of the palace.
The Imperial Palace was awash with Lanoirian soldiers. Those who passed the detail led by the supreme officer, nodded deferentially or avoided his gaze as they passed by. The supreme officer headed directly to the throne room, although he knew that Emperor Hanchi would not be there. Outside the large doors to t
he throne stood a well-dressed noble. The supreme officer walked directly up to him and halted before him.
“I must speak with Emperor Hanchi immediately,” declared the supreme officer.
The noble turned and gazed curiously into the eyes of the supreme officer, as if seeking recognition and failing to find it.
“That is not possible at this time,” the noble stated flatly. “You must wait.”
“Waiting is not an option,” scowled the supreme officer. “The information I carry is vital and timely. Take me to him.”
“Impossible,” the noble retorted defiantly. “The emperor is not to be disturbed at this time of the morning. What is so vital?”
“What is vital is for the emperor’s ears only,” snapped the supreme officer. “It cannot wait for the sun to pierce his garden.”
The noble’s ears perked up at the mention of the garden. Not many were privy to the fact that the emperor refused to leave his daily meditation until the sun shone directly into his personal garden. Still, it was risky to incur the wrath of the emperor for disturbing him.
“Tell me of the nature of this vital information,” demanded the noble. “I will not disturb his meditation without good cause.”
“There is a crisis in Sordoa,” the supreme officer stated after a long hesitation. “I dare not divulge more, but you can tell the emperor that the nine stars have risen over Sordoa. He will understand the urgency of speaking with me.”
The noble frowned, but eventually nodded. “Very well,” he said, “follow me.”
The noble opened the doors to the throne room and led the small band of Lanoirian soldiers through it. People stared at the small procession, but nobody challenged the noble and the soldiers. At the far end of the throne room, the noble opened another door that led into a long corridor. The corridor turned sharply at the end and flowed into a large foyer with a single door on one wall. Four Lanoirian soldiers were stationed outside the door.
“You will wait here,” the noble ordered loudly enough for the guards to hear.
The guards made no move to challenge the noble as he opened the door and strode into a large open-air garden in the center of the Imperial Palace. The eight guards stationed in the emperor’s garden immediately stiffened and watched the noble closely. Emperor Hanchi knelt on a small rug before a statue. The emperor did not appear to notice that the noble had entered his sanctuary. The noble marched towards the emperor and halted several paces away so as not to alarm the guards.
Emerald of the Elves Page 3