Baku opened his mouth to continue, but the general raised a hand to interrupt him. “I am not being critical as I know nothing about being a mage, but I am curious why you have returned. Couldn’t a man of your power destroy a dozen warriors with ease?”
“Indeed,” Baku nodded, “but it gets worse. There is also a dragon in this world.”
“A dragon?” gasped the general. “Are you serious?”
“Very serious,” frowned the black-cloak. “It is a huge creature and as vicious as any stories I ever heard about dragons. Its talons grabbed the last two of my men. Only I escaped. It is not safe to fly with such a beast around.”
“Could this dragon be working with the warriors?” asked the general.
“I do not know,” admitted the black-cloak. “I have been wondering about that for the entire flight here. It is either working with the warriors, or its timing was incredibly fortuitous for our enemies. The archers were unable to kill the last two men, but the dragon appeared before my mages were able to respond to the attack.” Baku sighed and shook his head. “There is something else about the dragon’s behavior that puzzles me. It did not devour my men. It merely crushed the life out of them with its talons and then discarded the bodies. It was not hunting for food.”
“I do not believe in coincidences,” stated General Ross. “I have to plan as if I have a dragon for an enemy. Get some sleep. We will talk more about this tomorrow.”
Chapter 34
Demands
General Pryblick and Colonel Dukirk rode side-by-side through the swamp, heading back the way they had come the day before. The general was in a foul mood, and the colonel was receiving the brunt of his rage.
“The men are at the point of mutiny,” berated the general, “and I can hardly blame them. They were stung and bitten the entire night, and most of them were afraid to even relieve themselves after the black-cloaks died. The tale of being eaten alive by those giant reptiles ran through the camp faster than the winds from a summer storm. This swamp is worse than the pits of hell, Colonel, and you are responsible for leading us into it. Give me one reason why you should not be stripped of your rank?”
“I was only doing the task assigned to me, General,” replied the colonel. “We could not proceed up the Coastal Highway. Even you agree with that. The bridge was out. How was I to know that the road through the swamp was flooded out?”
“You went on ahead of the column, Colonel,” scowled the general. “Did you not think to look beyond the area of the encampment?”
“I did go beyond it,” sighed the colonel, “but it was too late in the day to turn the column around. Look at the land around us, General. Where could we set up camp here? There is barely enough solid ground here to hold the road. At least back where we camped there was enough dry ground for the soldiers to settle down for the night. We could not do that on this road.”
“That was my decision to make, Colonel, not yours. Now we have lost two days. It will be impossible to reach Tagaret on schedule unless I march these men day and night. How effective do you think these men will be when the battle for Tagaret begins, Colonel?”
“All hope is not lost, General,” frowned the colonel. “Perhaps the answer to our dilemma resides in Danver Shores. The locals might know of a shorter route to Tagaret, and they may have horses that we can seize to transport the men faster, or perhaps even boats to ferry the men up the coast to make up for lost time.”
The colonel started sweating, and it was not entirely due to the heat and humidity of the swamp. He had not reported that all of the mage deaths were not natural. He had been afraid to, but the last mage had been found in his tent, not on the banks of the channels. He sighed nervously. If he lost his rank, the colonel would be in for a rough time with the troops he used to command. They would relish the chance to exact revenge against him for slights imagined or real. He decided to gamble everything.
“All is not lost yet, General. I will find a way to get us to Tagaret on time. Have faith in me, and I will make this problem go away.”
Less than a league ahead of the Federation column, the King of the Gypsies stood where the two bridges had been removed the night before. Moth landed on Adan’s shoulder and reported the progress of the column. The gypsy nodded in acknowledgement as he watched the men under his command rush the preparations. He gazed at the long, horseshoe-shaped barricade that surrounded the bridge area and the catapults that had been dragged into position. Three-hundred men of the Melbin Guards were putting the finishing touches on the barricades and placing bundles of arrows at each position. The gypsy king nodded in appreciation.
“We will be ready for them, Moth,” the gypsy said. “Do you need to rest, or would you like to return to the sky to keep watch over the enemy?”
“I will keep watch on them,” the chubby fairy replied enthusiastically. “If they do not agree to your terms, I could deliver a myric quill to the general. Maybe his successor would be more agreeable.”
Adan laughed at the feisty fairy. The tale of Moth’s courageous attack had spread through the gypsy camp, and many of the gypsies were praising the little man’s courage. “We will see how General Pryblick reacts soon enough, Moth, but I will keep your offer in mind. Would you like a boost?”
“No,” the fairy responded. “I need the practice if I am to become a gypsy.”
Moth flapped his wings and grunted, but he could not take off from a still position. With a sigh of resignation, he ran along Adan’s shoulder and threw himself off. Adan smiled as he noticed that the stout fairy did not fall quite as far as usual before darting upward. The gypsy walked away from the bridge approach and walked to the barricade where one of the Melbin Guards was supervising the construction.
“We have less than an hour, Lomar,” stated Adan. “Maybe less if they decide to send cavalry on ahead to hold the bridges. Will we be ready?”
“We are just about done,” answered Lomar. “I am having the boats brought forward now. What about your wagons?”
“They are ready,” assured the gypsy, “but I will not bring them into view until I get a surrender from General Pryblick. Keep the boats out of view as well. Perhaps you can hide them behind the barricade until we need them.”
“Done,” agreed Lomar. “Do you think they will attack us?”
“They would be fools to do so,” Adan answered after a moment’s thought, “but they just might. I intend to inform the general of his precarious position, but the Federation generals are pretty used to getting their own way. If it comes to a fight, I will pull in the gypsies meant to escort the wagons. That will add a thousand men to our side.”
“Thirteen-hundred against twenty-thousand,” sighed Lomar. “Those are long odds for us.”
“Not really,” smiled Adan. “They cannot line up twenty-thousand men on that small spit of land, but we can line up thirteen hundred behind this barricade. They cannot possibly win, and I intend to convince them of that.”
Lomar nodded and Adan walked away. The gypsy king moved away from the river to the staging area for the gypsy wagons that would be transporting the prisoners to the camps set up between Danver Shores and Melbin. Five-hundred gaily-painted gypsy wagons had been stripped inside to make room for the prisoners. The wagon drivers and the escorting warriors sat around in a makeshift camp doing what gypsies do best. They were trading stories and reciting tall tales, but there were no casks of ale this day. Adan had decreed that there would be no drinking until the victory celebration when all of the prisoners were in their prison camps. Adan stayed only long enough to inform Rax about the timing of the enemy’s approach and left it to her to spread the word. As he made his way back towards the river, Moth landed on his shoulder in a controlled crash.
“Riders are coming up quick,” reported the fairy. “There are thousands of them, and the general is among them.”
Adan nodded as he pondered the reason for the sudden change of pace. He half expected a squad to arrive early to secure the bridges, but t
housands of riders indicated something entirely different. The only thing he could think of was that the Federation had thought of a way to get to Tagaret that Adan had not considered.
“I think they have had enough of the stinging flies and mosquitoes,” commented Moth. “They are especially bad this morning. The whole column is trying to swat the things and walk at the same time. It is rather funny to watch.”
Adan chuckled and picked up the pace. He hurried to the bridge area and waited for the enemy to arrive.
Only minutes away from the river, General Pryblick frowned as the vanguard slowed to a halt. He looked at Colonel Dukirk beside him and nodded towards the vanguard.
“Go see what the problem is,” demanded the general.
The colonel nodded and rode forward. When he reached the lead riders, he did not have to ask why they had stopped. He gazed at the fortifications on the other side of the river and swallowed hard. Seeing the lack of bridges across the river, Colonel Dukirk immediately knew that the Alceans had tricked them into the swamp. He shook his head with fear as he pondered how the general would take the news. With anxious resignation, the colonel turned his horse and rode back to the general.
“I think you need to go forward and see this for yourself,” the colonel reported cryptically. “My words would do the situation no justice.”
“Don’t play games with me, Colonel,” snapped General Pryblick. “I am not in the mood for it. Why have we stopped?”
“We have stopped, General,” answered the colonel, “because we cannot proceed. The bridges have vanished.”
“Nonsense,” spat the general as he guided his horse out of the column. “We will talk about this later, Dukirk, but you will not enjoy what I have to say.”
General Pryblick rode to the front of the column and gaped at the sight before him. At first he could not believe what he was seeing. The bridges were gone and the fortifications were new. They had not been there the day before when they had entered the swamp. He was sure of that. He gazed at the catapults aimed towards him and shook his head. Eventually, his eyes focused on the lone man standing at the far edge of the river. He frowned in confusion. The man wore no uniform. In fact, he was dressed garishly for a fighting man, yet there he stood, obviously waiting to speak to someone. General Pryblick rode forward and the column followed him. The general halted right at the edge of the river and stared at the man across from him.
“Welcome to Alcea, General Pryblick,” Adan called out in a friendly tone. “Shall we talk?”
“Who are you?” the general called back. “And what do we have to talk about?”
“I am called Adan,” answered the gypsy, “and I am authorized by King Arik of Alcea to accept your surrender. Now, we can shout across the river, or we can meet in the middle of it. Which would please you more?”
The gypsy signaled the men behind him, and a boat was dragged to the river’s edge. The general stared at the gypsy and considered his options. Wanting a closer look at the fortifications, he decided to accept the invitation.
“I do not care much for floating in boats,” shouted the general, “but if you will guarantee my safety and return me to this shore, I will meet with you where you stand.”
“Agreed,” shouted Adan as he waved for two men to row over and fetch the general.
While the boat was being rowed across the river, the general ordered one of his men to fetch Colonel Dukirk. The man left and returned with the colonel just as the boat reached the shore.
“You are coming with me, Colonel,” ordered the general. “You will see first hand what your foolish actions have brought to us.”
The two officers dismounted and entered the boat. The gypsy made no protest over the addition of the colonel. In fact, he smiled broadly. That smile worried the general more than anything else, and he began to wonder if he was being a fool for trusting the man to honor a truce. Of course, it was too late to alter the terms of the meeting as the boat was already under way. The general gritted his teeth and endured the ride. When they reached the shore, the two Federation officers walked up to Adan.
“This is Colonel Dukirk,” announced the general. “I didn’t think you would mind his coming.”
“Certainly not,” smiled Adan. “Hello again, Dukirk.”
The colonel’s face paled and the general gasped.
“You two have met before?”
“I met Adan in Danver Shores last fall,” admitted the colonel. “He claimed to be a smuggler who took goods through the swamp. That is why I felt confident that the road went through.”
“It used to years ago,” stated Adan, “but no longer. Your men are on an island in the swamp, General. Fortunately, King Arik is desirous of capturing your men rather than killing them. He has authorized me to accept your surrender and transport your men to camps where they will be fed and taken care of until the end of hostilities. Will you accept?”
General Pryblick looked around, examining the barricade and estimating the number of men manning it. He turned back to Adan with a scowl on his face.
“You can’t be serious. I see a couple of hundred men and nothing more. You expect me to surrender twenty-thousand fighting men to you? I will make you a counteroffer. Fix one of the bridges so my men can easily cross the river, and I will make you a very wealthy man. Perhaps I can arrange for you to rule over a portion of Alcea after it is conquered.”
“I already rule over what I wish to,” replied Adan, “and the Federation will never rule any of Alcea.”
“You are mistaken in that belief,” retorted the general, “but I will not belabor the point. The fact is that you are faced with overwhelming odds. You cannot expect a surrender, so you are just wasting time. There is nothing else to talk about.”
“Overwhelming odds?” countered the gypsy. “Perhaps you do not fully understand your predicament, General. I may only have three-hundred men manning this barricade, but that is not the total of my resources. I have more than enough men to man this position all day and all night for however long it takes for you to surrender. Your men are not going anywhere, General. They cannot walk their way out of the swamp. They cannot swim out. The only exit is right were you stand, and your men will be cut down as they try to escape.”
“So you say,” retorted the general. “You told Colonel Dukirk that you smuggled goods through the swamp, which was a lie. Why should I believe your words now?”
“I did not lie to Dukirk,” smiled Adan. “I often smuggled things along the road through the swamp, but not since the end of the Darkness. When the Darkness cleared, the rains returned to the land. The swamp has been impassable ever since.”
Adan sighed as the general turned towards the boat.
“General,” Adan called after him, “think about the welfare of your men. You had roaring fires last night, but you used up practically all of the wood available to you. There will be no more campfires, and there will be no food. Your men will be prey to stinging flies and mosquitoes until they are too sick to care. And then the reptiles will feast upon their bodies. Their deaths will be a slow, painful process. Why put your men through that when we are offering safety, food, and shelter?”
The general spun around and faced Adan. “What would you know about our fires?” he asked. “We were leagues away from this place.”
“Just who do you think killed your mages?” asked Adan.
The general opened his mouth to retort that the mages died of natural deaths, but he caught himself before he spoke. The very fact that Adan knew about the deaths led credence to his boast of killing the black-cloaks. The general shut his mouth and glared at the colonel.
“I believe it to be true,” the colonel said softly. “I said nothing because I could not be sure, but the last of the mages died inside his tent.”
“You sicken me, Dukirk,” scowled the general. “You are relieved of your rank.”
The colonel merely nodded, and the general fell silent. He dwelled upon his predicament, but he saw no hope o
f survival. While the army could survive for a while by eating their horses, they would not even be able to cook the meat without firewood. With a heavy sigh, he turned to face Adan.
“Who are you that you are authorized to accept my surrender?” the general asked. “You wear no uniform.”
“I am Adan, King of the Gypsies. As for my lack of a uniform, this is my Alcea that you are invading. Did you think that only our soldiers would fight your armies? Nay, General. Every able bodied man and woman will stand against the Federation. Many of your peers have already been defeated. Gattas, Montero, and Franz are dead. Ruppert, Hanold, and Somma have surrendered. Testa, Alden, Nunes, Butwin, Ross, and Haggerty are imprisoned. We Alceans have been waiting a long time for your armies to arrive, General. We have plans to defeat every one of them. Be thankful that your lot in this war was one of surrender rather than death. Some of your brethren were not given the chance to make such a choice.”
The general remained silent and pensive. Adan could almost figure out what was going through the man’s mind.
“We know about all twelve teams, General,” Adan said softly. “We have been monitoring the portals for over a year now. We know the location of every secret cache in Alcea, and all of them have been emptied. Every one of the remaining Federation armies is already reduced to foraging, and we are making such foraging a deadly endeavor. So, if you are thinking that you are letting Fortella and Bledsoe down, think again. Neither of their teams will reach Tagaret.”
General Pryblick nodded sadly. Letting his fellow generals down had been exactly what he was pondering, and the Alcean knew far too much to be bluffing. If what Adan had said was true, and the general was ready to accept that it was, the Alceans knew about the portals before he did. That meant that the invasion was sabotaged at the highest levels of the Federation. It was meant to fail from the very beginning. He fumed silently, but he accept his fate.
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