Heirs of the Enemy (62 page)

“Lloyd has a request for the king,” stated the escort. “It seems the gates are threatened by the blizzard, and General Gregor is not in the palace. Is the king in?”

One of the door guards nodded and knocked on the door. The king’s voice called permission to enter, and the guard opened the door for Lloyd. The demonkin smiled broadly as he walked past the guards and into the study. He stood for a moment, relishing his triumph as he stared at the king sitting at his desk. Bringing both of his arms up before him, the demonkin unleashed a spell of massive power. An invisible force rushed across the room and smashed into the king and the desk. Wooden splinters erupted in a hazy mist and the wall behind the desk shattered and collapsed in a waterfall of cracked stones. As the haze drifted downward, Lloyd could see clear into the next room. There was no sign of the king or his desk. Everything had been obliterated.

The Red Swords struck with a vengeance. With screams of rage, they drew their swords and attacked. The demonkin felt the swords trying to puncture his skin. He laughed and turned to face the guards. As their swords struck him harmlessly, Lloyd reached out and grabbed one of the Red Swords by the throat. He lifted the man off his feet and shook him like a rag doll, tossing the useless body to the floor. The other two Red Swords backed up and shouted for help. Lloyd grinned evilly. He slowly stepped towards the Red Swords, batting their swords aside. As he reached for his next victim, the demonkin halted, his face suddenly turning from glee to confusion. Lloyd looked down at his chest and the sword blade extending out of it. He tried to turn around and see his attacker, but the sword impaled him so completely that he could not turn. As life sped from his body, the demonkin sighed and collapsed to the ground.

“Blessed sword!” exclaimed one of the Red Swords. “How is this possible? I just saw you die.”

King Arik pulled the Sword of Heavens out of the demonkin’s back. “How did this man get in here?”

Red Swords came streaming along the corridor from both directions. They slid to a halt, swords drawn.

“The city gates are endangered,” reported one of the door guards. “Lloyd was supposedly seeking an order as to whether they should be left open or closed.”

Queen Tanya walked up behind King Arik and looked at the demonkin. “Close the gates. Send a runner to give the order for the gates and another to gather General Gregor. He is needed in the palace immediately.”

One of the Red Swords took charge and started shouting orders. Soldiers were posted in the room next to the king’s study where the wall had been destroyed, but the king and queen decided to go elsewhere. They were escorted to the Council Chamber to await the king’s advisors. While they waited, Tanya tried to calm the king.

“I should have been dead,” Arik remarked nervously. “If you had not been having fun with your illusions again, I would have been blown into little pieces. Did you see what his spell did to my desk?”

“You still wear the Breastplate of Alcea,” stated the queen.

“The breastplate does not protect my arms and legs,” the king said softly, “nor my head. There was nothing left of my desk and little left of the wall behind it. It was only luck that saved me this time.”

“It is troubling that a demonkin can portray a Red Sword,” conceded Queen Tanya, “but you survived. I think the gods are watching over you.”

“I survived this time,” the king stated angrily as he pushed his nervousness away, “but one of the Red Swords did not. We have to put a stop to these assassination attempts.”

Prince Oscar was entering the room as the king spoke. He frowned and halted in the doorway. “And how are you going to do that?” he asked.

“Close the door, Prince Oscar,” Tanya said softly as she stared at Arik.

Prince Oscar closed the door and took a seat at the table. He looked at his son and frowned. “You cannot run away from your problems, Arik.”

“I cannot afford to stay where I am expected to be,” retorted the king. “Every time they try to assassinate me, good people die. Those Red Swords could not even hurt that demonkin. They were willing to give their lives to stall his escape. I am tired of people dying to protect me.”

“The Red Swords have sworn their lives to protect you,” countered the prince. “It is their reason for living. Do not take that away from them.”

“Maybe I should just keep you shielded at all times,” suggested the queen.

“You cannot shield me all the time,” sighed the king. “We should just go into hiding until we find the last of Alutar’s Claws.”

“We do not know their powers,” stated Queen Tanya. “They may have magical means of finding you. We just don’t know.”

“Can we get another mage to help with the shielding?” asked Prince Oscar.

“I think that is the real solution,” agreed Tanya. “We need to make sure that Arik is protected and then purposely trick the last Claw of Alutar into attacking.”

Morro sat on the tree limb staring up at the mountain before him. It was a tedious task waiting for the Badgers to appear on the winding trail coming down the mountain, but Garth’s message had indicated that they might move soon. Clint and the elf had taken turns keeping a watch, but no one had appeared.
 

“I think we are just wasting time,” he called down to Clint. “What made Garth think they would move the hostages?”

“He let the Federation know that someone knows where they are,” Clint answered. “Unless they are ready to hold off the entire Federation army, they should be making plans to leave the Black Citadel.”

“After Peanut’s description of the Black Citadel, I think they are planning to stay put. No army could successfully attack them there.”

“You might be right,” mused Clint, “but I don’t think the two groups want to be known to be cooperating with each other. The black-cloaks are allies of the Federation, but the Badgers are not. They are paid assassins. King killers. I think the Black Citadel would lose some friends if it became known that they shared a lair. I suspect that Emperor Jaar would be none too pleased.”

“As if he could do anything about it. Hey, that’s weird.”

“What?” Clint asked curiously.

“Some birds are flying down the mountain, but I have never seen birds fly like that before.”

Clint dropped his sword and the stone he had been using to sharpen it. He leaped up and grabbed hold of a limb and pulled himself up. Scrambling as fast as he could, Clint climbed the tree until he was right below Morro. He peered through the branches and finally caught sight of the birds. Three large black birds were flying in formation down the side of the mountain, but they were zigzagging back and forth.

“They look as if they are following the trail down the mountain,” commented Morro. “Do you suppose they have spotted a rabbit or something?”

Clint immediately started descending as fast as he could. “Get out of the tree now! Do it!”

Morro frowned in confusion, but he promptly obeyed Clint’s order. Clint hit the ground first and woke Peanut up.

“If you are going to keep climbing up and down trees,” the fairy scowled, “I am going to sleep on a rock.”

“Record this message,” Clint said to the fairy with a sense of urgency that caused the fairy to be quiet. “Put your fire out and get everyone inside the cave now! No one is to move until you hear from me again. Do not move!”

“What do I do with the message?” asked the fairy.

“Deliver it to every group of my men,” instructed Clint. “Do not let them detect you, but make sure that they get the message. Shout it from out of sight somehow, but deliver it with haste. There are magicians flying overhead looking for us. Go now!”

The fairy offered no quip as he leaped into the air and sped off. Clint bent down and retrieved his sword and stone. He sheathed the sword and stowed the stone in his pack.

“Magicians?” asked Morro as he hit the ground. “Do you mean the birds?”

“Those are no birds. They are magicians. Send Sparky to warn the unicorns and then hug a tree and remain motionless. They must not see us.”

Morro woke Sparky and sent him on his way to warn the unicorns. Clint had already selected a tree that was well hidden from the air. He pressed his body close to the tree and merged with the shadows. Morro quickly followed his example. Sparky was the first fairy to return. Knowing that Morro was not familiar with magicians, he landed on Clint’s shoulder.

“Should I spy on them?” the tiny man whispered in Clint’s ear.

“You must not be seen,” answered Clint. “If you can hide on the underside of a branch or in a dark hollow of the bark, then do so, otherwise remain here. I would like to know when they are gone, but I will not risk detection. We will remain frozen until nightfall if necessary.”

“I will be careful,” promised the fairy just before he leaped off Clint’s shoulder and disappeared.

Despite the chill wind, Clint started sweating. The minutes dragged on as he remained motionless. He could see nothing without moving, and he had no intention of doing so. Instead, he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the forest. Half an hour passed and nothing happened. A little while later he felt a familiar weight on his shoulder.

“Are you sleeping?” Peanut whispered.

“No,” Clint whispered back. “Did all of the men get my message?”

“Every group received the message,” assured the fairy. “It caused quite a stir in a few of the caves, but I checked them again on my way back. Everyone is well hidden. Are the birds gone?”

“I don’t know. Sparky is trying to spy on them without being seen.”

“Perhaps I should help him?”

“No,” Clint said quickly. “One spy is enough. Remain still and quiet.”

Two more hours passed before Sparky finally landed next to Peanut.

“They have returned up the mountain,” he announced.

“All of them?” asked Clint.

“Yes,” answered the fairy. “They split up once they exited the canyon, and I lost track of two of them, but all three returned into the canyon, and I watched them fly upward until they were out of sight.”

Clint sighed with relief and pushed away from the tree. He motioned to Morro and the elf joined him.

“How did you know that they were magicians?” asked Morro.

“I have run into such mages before. You know that Kalina can turn herself into an eagle. From what I understand, it is a fairly common spell for an accomplished magician. The problem with such magic is that the mages still think like humans. They were zigzagging on the way down the trail looking for any sign of intruders. A normal bird would not act that way.”

“What made them decide to look for us?”

“The Badgers are getting ready to leave, and they wanted to know what was waiting for them down here. I suspect that they will come down the trail tonight.”

“And what are we going to do?”

“Let’s get on our unicorns, and I will explain some of it,” smiled Clint.

With the fairies keeping watch overhead, they made their way to the unicorns and mounted. As they started riding north towards the caves where some of Clint’s men were hiding, the Ranger started explaining.

“I am going to split Colonel Hardi’s men into two groups. I will lead one group and Colonel Hardi will lead the other. I am going to put you into Colonel Hardi’s group so we can use our fairies to keep in contact.”

“Will the colonel do what I ask him to do?” frowned Morro. “I mean what if you send a message to do something, and I can’t convince the colonel to do it?”

“I will tell the colonel to trust your judgment. Don’t worry about it. Colonel Hardi is a good man, and he doesn’t let his ego make decisions for him.”

“Alright,” agreed the elf. “Why two groups?”

“I do not want to attack the Badgers close to the canyon. There is a possibility that the black-cloaks might keep an eye on things near their base and assist the Badgers if we attack. That means that we need to let the Badgers move away from the canyon a bit, but we don’t know which way they will go. I plan to have one or our groups north of the canyon and another south of the canyon. You and I will use the fairies to keep track of their movements. You will be in the north group and I will take the south. If the Badgers turn towards the north, I will come up behind them and we can coordinate on a strategy. If they turn to the south, you will turn around and come up behind them.”

“And if they head east?”

“That is what I expect them to do. If they do go east, they will be caught between our two forces.”

“How many men does Colonel Hardi have?”

“Around three hundred.”

The elf frowned. “The men that attacked that estate and stole the women are not ordinary soldiers. They are trained assassins.”

“I know,” sighed Clint. “The plan is not without risk. I have made the A Corps into a unit that I am proud of. I would willingly match them against any Federation army, but they are not Alcean Rangers. I fear this confrontation will be costly, but getting the emperor’s family back might avert the war.”

“Do you really believe that?” challenged Morro.

Clint sighed deeply. “I don’t know, Morro. I would like to believe it, but the Federation’s drive to war is being pushed by forces more powerful than the emperor. Our actions are akin to trying to stop a landslide by standing beneath it and holding a roof over our heads. Still, we must make every effort to stem the bloodshed. Garth and I have exchanged messages concerning this, and he agrees that we should try to rescue the emperor’s family, and that is what we are going to try to do.”

* * * *

General Forshire woke just in time to see the last of the sun as it passed over the peaks of the Barrier. He sat up and stretched as his eyes scanned the campsite. Most of his A Corps detachment were still sleeping, but he noted that Sergeant Treman was awake. The sergeant saw the general stretch and immediately moved to his side.

“Anything?” asked Clint.

“Not a peep,” answered the sergeant. “Are you sure that the Badgers came out of the canyon?”

“I am certain. Are our sentries out?”

“As you instructed. They have rotated three times during the day. There has not been a person anywhere near us.”