Dark Quest (13 page)

Todd started sweating profusely. If he told these villagers the truth, they might very well kill him. For a long time he said nothing. Laman walked over and held the Sergeant’s own sword to Todd’s throat. “Kara, do we have room on that spit for another pig?”

Todd felt his hands being pulled behind his back and soon they were tied together. Marga stepped out from behind the Sergeant with a smirk. “If we don’t, we’ll let the other pig go free and just roast this one.”

Todd knew that if he remained silent, he would die. These villagers meant business. “Okay, I’ll tell you everything you want to know and quite a bit that you don’t, but you have no right to kill a Targan soldier for doing his duty.”

Laman relaxed his sword a bit and Todd felt some small measure of relief. “I owe Alex my life,” Todd began. “I wish no harm to come to him. That is why I volunteered to come to Lavinda. If I didn’t come, others would have and they wish to see Alex dead.”

“Why would any Targan want to see Alex dead?” Marga asked.

“There is a warrant for his arrest for killing King Eugene,” Todd spit out.

The village was in shock. For several long moments, no one spoke, each villager lost in his own version of the nightmare spreading before him. Laman lowered his sword and called out. “Eddie, grab your weapons. Try to track down Alex and let him know what is going on.” He looked around the village, focusing on the expression on everyone’s face. “Do we need a village meeting on this?” he asked. Everyone shook their heads. “When you find him, tell him Lavinda is a safe place for him to be. We are prepared to fight the whole Targan Army if need be.”

“What do we do with this pig?” asked Kyle.

“Let him go,” answered Laman. “Sergeant, you now owe your life twice to Alex Tork. Alex would never murder a Targan soldier, much less the king. Go back to your garrison and tell them Alex is not here. If they decide to come back this way, you had better find some excuse not to be with them. We won’t kill someone who came into this village peacefully, but if the army tries to attack us, we will not hesitate to defend our village.”

After his hands were untied, Todd turned to Laman. “Look, Laman, I was not lying when I said that I mean Alex no harm. I can think of no other person whom I would rather be like. I am willing to stay and help you defend the village if you will let me.”

“We do not need help defending the village,” Marga stated. “If you really wish to help Alex, go back and report that he is not here. Make no mention of our invitation to him and you will save a lot of lives.”

“I will do as you request, but when this is all over, I want to come back and visit. I want to get to know the people whom Alex lived with. Your courage and dedication to Alex would make any monarch proud.”

“You may come back and visit when Alex is free to come and go as he pleases,” replied Kyle.

Regent Nelson sat in the King’s Study. “Well, what have you found out about this Secor?”

“He’s a painter,” replied Aurora. “We ran into a merchant just back from Kantor. Interesting thing is, he just married off his daughter. The President of Cordonia presided over the ceremony himself.”

“Yeah,” added Dalgar, “but the really interesting item is who she married. She is now the wife of Duke Dalek.”

“Duke Dalek,” the Regent shouted. “That’s why he was missing from the evening session of the Council. He’s off to bring his father-in-law to the capital.”

“Perhaps,” pondered Dalgar. “Maybe he is going to make sure that Secor doesn’t live to claim the throne. He could have visions of being the King himself.”

“Whatever,” snapped the Regent, “I don’t think that Secor can make it to Tagaret in two weeks. Get someone to monitor the situation and keep me informed.”

Egam and Jenneva were working with Galdan. “So you see how this idea works in concert with your Doors?” Galdan asked.

“Yes, of course,” answered Egam. “Very simple yet very secure. We will not have to depend on knocking anymore. Galdan, I have always enjoyed working with you.”

“You honor me, Egam. I am pleased that you have finally decided to share your student with me. Jenneva, you have an aptitude for magic that is unprecedented. You are welcome to join me in Galdan whenever you get the chance. Perhaps I can entice you into studying with me for a while.”

“I would consider it an honor, Galdan,” Jenneva replied. “Your valley here is so peaceful. It is what I like about Atar’s Cove.”

“You must watch her, Galdan,” quipped Egam. “She has seen the breadth of your library.”

“Egam!” laughed Jenneva. “I may take you up on your offer, Galdan, but perhaps at a later time. Things in the Kingdom are not in order and I feel that I must break away from my studies for a while.”

“Your young man, no doubt,” said the elf magician. “He is a wise man, Jenneva. He understands that not all things can be conquered by strength alone. He cares for others above himself and he does not presume to know everything. These are the measures of a great leader and a great man.”

Galdan sat on a stump and gazed at Jenneva. “Take time to love, Jenneva. Your studies are important, but so is your life. When you are old and look back upon your life, you will be amazed at what you consider to be the most important times of your walk among the living. It will not be the times when you struck down a thousand goblins with a mighty spell. It will be the short days that you spent in a lover’s embrace or the smell of fragrant flowers in the morning mist.”

“You are a wise man, Galdan, and I will try to heed your advice.”

The temple in Lorgo was busy night and day. The Black Devils were getting tired of waiting. They could not afford to spend three days watching every temple. This was not the first raid that Zanar had been put in charge of and he hoped it would not be his last. Still, as he sat watching the people moving in and out of the Temple of Char, he knew he had to get results soon or he would be replaced. Finally the thought struck him and he laughed. Char was the God of Fire and Char would deliver the books he needed.

He called several of his men over and plotted his strategy. Across the street from the temple was an infirmary for the old and feeble. He ordered several of his men to start it burning.

Within moments the building became a blazing inferno. People from all over town rushed to put the fire out before it caught on to the adjacent buildings. He ordered his men to make sure that it did spread. He boldly led his men into the temple through the back door and killed everyone in sight. The front door to the temple was barricaded so no one could gain admittance. Protests from worshippers outside would be ignored as long as the fire raged. The fire and the resulting commotion also covered the screams of the dying priests inside the temple. There were more than enough screams from those outside with loved ones in the infirmary.

The robbery was sloppy and some of the books were damaged, but Zanar didn’t care. He had other targets to attack. Mordac would not be mad if his deadline slipped on one target as long as he made it up on the next. He reached into his pocket and removed the torn cloth and threw it just inside the back door. The piece of Targan shirt with the distinctive red bar of the Red Swords would create some heat of its own when the Sordoan authorities found it.

His men started the loaded wagons heading down the path to the harbor. There was a fishing boat waiting for his cargo and the sooner he got rid of it, the sooner he could be off to his next target.

Zanar didn’t understand how collecting these books would bring Sarac back and he didn’t care. What Zanar liked about this job was the killing.

The three black-clad figures lay watching the sentry movements and counting the seconds for each move. The army fortress for the Gordo Pass had been built recently and there appeared to be no chinks in the stockade. The garrison consisted of men of the Frontier Division trained by Alex Tork or his sergeants. It would not be an easy fortress to storm.

The lead figure snapped his finger and the three shadows moved as one. They raced to the southwest corner of the stockade and pressed their bodies against the wooden framework of the barrier. Each of the men was tapping his finger against his leg in rhythmic patterns. From one man to the next, their cadence was unwavering. They took a metal spike with a long rope attached and shoved it hard into the joint of two wall pieces. One man tossed a hook high into the air and it hit the wall with a small thud. The second man was on his way up the rope before the slight echo died. He carried the longer rope attached to the spike and dropped the free end over the wall. They had thirty-four seconds for all three of them to get up the rope and down the other side undetected.

The dark figures crammed into the shadows of the corner and continued counting. There would be time for only two of them to sprint across the courtyard. The third would have to wait another three minutes. The two who had crossed did not wait. They crawled under the small building and peered out the other side. Minutes passed by slowly. They had another stretch of clear ground to cover. One of the patrol guards walked by them only two feet away and he was on schedule. Had they been playing a practical joke, they could have reached out and tripped the guard, but this was no joke. Their lives depended on getting away undetected.

The third black warrior joined them. He would be staying here to handle the one guard that they had not been able to time. As if someone had given a signal, the first two men crawled out from under the building and sprinted across the courtyard. One quickly threw another hook and they scampered up to the roof, pulling the rope up after them. The only windows in this building were on the second floor and in the front of the building. They attached the hook to the roof directly over one of these windows. The free end of the rope was tied to the hook so that the rope would not extend down far enough to be seen by the sentry below.

They had another hundred and forty seconds before they could move. The men continued their tapping, counting mentally when their hands were busy. The first man grabbed the rope and silently lowered himself, using his feet only when he came to the window ledge. He felt very exposed with his face to the wall and his back to the army. Getting in the window without swinging the rope was difficult. He had left his shoes on the roof and was using his toes to inch his legs further into the room. Finally he was able to sit on the window ledge and enter the room. He did not glance up to see his partner; he knew the other man could not come down for four minutes. If the burglar ran into someone entering the room now, he would be on his own. He went to the door and slowly cracked it open. His target was in a room at the back of the building.

He could hear the sounds of talk and laughter coming up the stairs, but there didn’t appear to be any occupants on the second floor. He moved silently down the hall, his back pressed against the wall to avoid the light from downstairs. He reached the room he was seeking and found the door locked. He cursed under his breath without losing count. He brought out a slim dagger and tried to ease it between the door and doorpost. The dagger would work, but he would lose precious time because of the delay.

The sound of steps on the stairs broke his concentration. He quickly slid along the wall and reached for the next door. It was unlocked. He looked in horror as he realized he had left the first door open, but there was no time left. He slid into the darkened room and silently closed the door behind him. The footsteps approached and he could see light flickering under the door. The footsteps continued and he heard the rattle of a key ring. The locked door he had been working on was being unlocked. He heard the distant call from downstairs. “You’d better bring a bottle of the good stuff this time. That stuff from Bordon belongs in a chamber pot.”

The soldier next door laughed and slammed a desk drawer. Then he loudly closed the office door and yelled, “That’s about the quality you deserve, you wretched dog.” The light faded and the burglar heard the footsteps descending the stairs. He cracked the door open and checked the hall. The second man must have arrived because the door at the end was closed. He scooted out and returned to the locked door. The door was no longer locked and he sheathed his dagger. He crept into the room and went to the desk. The second man entered the room and went directly to a dresser and started going through the drawers.

Within three minutes the man at the desk snapped his fingers. Both men straightened out the papers they were working on and closed the drawers. They crept back to the room at the front of the building. One of them sat on the window ledge and grabbed the rope with both hands. His muscles bulged as he lifted himself out of the window and climbed up the rope. The second man joined him and one pulled the rope up while the other untied the rope from the hook. They took a second rope and tied them together. This long rope was then wrapped around a post on the roof close to the side where they had come up. They looked across the courtyard and could barely make out their comrade under the next building.

They put their shoes back on and, when the time came, one man threw both ends of the long rope over the edge of the roof and held one strand tightly. The other black figure grabbed the free strand and lowered himself to the ground. He held his strand when he reached bottom and the first burglar lowered himself on the second strand. The second man raced across the courtyard while the first pulled the rope free from the roof. The third black raider had already retreated to the corner of the stockade. Minutes later, all three men were reunited outside the fortress. Several hours later they arrived back at their camp.

“Sergeant Witzak reporting in, Sir,” the first black figure said.

“How did it go, Randi?” asked Alex.

“Piece of cake, Sir. Almost had a bit of trouble with a locked door, but Mya smiled upon us.”

Alex laughed at Randi’s favor from the Goddess of Luck. He took the papers from the sergeant and looked at them. “You three have done the Rangers proud tonight. Grab some sleep. We’ll be splitting up in the morning.”