Alutar: The Great Demon

by Tuttle, Richard S.

  Clint paused and one of the soldiers raised his hand. Clint nodded for the man to speak.

  “How were you able to become General Forshire?” asked the soldier. “There really was a Forshire in Tyronia. I know people who met him.”

  “There was a General Forshire in Tyronia,” Clint nodded. “I was present in Ur the day that he was arrested for treason. Evidently, we share a remarkable similarity to one another. When it was understood that Tyronia would fall to the Federation, I was chosen to impersonate the imprisoned general. I staged the assassination of King Myer, using the body of the real General Forshire. King Myer was spirited out of the country to Korocca where he safely resides today. In any event, we are going astray from the reason for my addressing you this morning. You now know the truth about me, and it is time for you to chart your paths for the future. I ask that any man wanting to leave the Federation army move off the road to my right. The rest of you will move off the road to my left.”

  “What will happen next?” asked one of the soldiers.

  “I will process the paperwork for those choosing to leave the Federation army,” answered General Forshire. “When that is done, the A Corps will break camp and march south to battle the 31st Corps. You are dismissed.”

  For a few moments, no one moved. When someone finally worked up the courage to go first, Clint frowned in disappointment. Colonel Magee stepped off the road to Clint’s right, and Colonel Hardi immediately followed. As if a dam had broken, the soldiers surged to join the two colonels. Not a single man moved to Clint’s left, and the Ranger shook his head in sadness. He dismounted, leaving Aeron standing in the middle of the road. As he marched towards his tent, he turned to the men of the A Corps and spoke loudly enough for all to hear.

  “It will take a while to process all of the papers,” he announced, “so there is no need to stand in formation. Relax and I will call each man as his papers are completed.”

  “The papers can wait a while,” Colonel Magee responded. “If we are to be heading south, there is no time for such a chore this day.”

  General Forshire halted and faced the colonel with a puzzled expression on his brow. “Explain yourself, Colonel,” ordered the general. “I may be confused at times like any other man, but I certainly know my left from my right. Each and every man here has opted to leave the Federation army. There is no one going south but me.”

  “We all want to leave the Federation army,” agreed Colonel Magee, “but not a one of us is anxious to leave the A Corps. We are still yours to command, General. We are ready to bring death and destruction to any Federation army you pit us against. We will even follow you into Despair.”

  Clint’s eyes grew wide with understanding. He felt tears beginning to well up in his eyes, and he cast his gaze downward. When he had his emotions in check, he looked and gazed upon his men once more.

  “Your words warm my heart, Colonel,” the general said loudly, “but I need to be sure that every man here agrees with this. I do not want a single man remaining with the A Corps because he thinks the rest will ostracize him for his decision. I want each of you to know that I will not look unfavorably on any man who chooses to go home. You have all served honorably.”

  “You heard the general,” Colonel Hardi shouted. “Each man will make his personal decision known. I will begin.”

  The colonel stepped out of line and saluted the general before stepping back to his place. One by one, two thousand men repeated the act of loyalty to General Forshire. There were no exceptions.

  * * * *

  The rowboat was anchored in the Sea of Tears just beyond the demarcation line of Despair Harbor. A man sat in the boat with a fishing pole held in one hand. The line from the fishing pole extended into the water, but it had no hook on the end of it, its tautness created by a small stone tied to the end of the line. When the man felt a slight tug on the line, he quickly looked around to see if any other boats were nearby. Seeing none, he dipped his hand under the surface of the water and made a sign of approval. Moments later, a mermaid surfaced and pulled herself into the boat. Captain Gomery stared as the mermaid altered her form, becoming Haditha, the water witch. Haditha stared back at the captain.

  “You make me feel strange when you watch me that closely,” Haditha complained. “Does it bother you that I have two forms?”

  “Not at all,” smiled the captain as he reached over and ran his hand over Haditha’s cheek. “I love you no matter what your form might be. Why do you keep asking me that? Surely, you know the truth by now.”

  “I do,” smiled the water witch, “but I guess I have lived with the myths of mermaids for too many years. I keep worrying that I might lose you somehow, but I truly know better. Anyone who could love a wrinkled old hag like me is truly in love.”

  “Actually,” frowned the captain, “I have been noticing less wrinkles every day. It is almost as if they are vanishing from your skin. And your hair,” he continued, “it is getting thicker, fuller, and its white is beginning to tinge with gold.”

  Haditha frowned and ran her hand over her cheek. With a puzzled expression, she leaned over the side of the boat and studied her reflection in the calm water. She sat back up and shook her head.

  “I don’t understand it,” she said. “It is as if my body is returning to how it used to be so many years ago.”

  “Well,” theorized the captain, “you said that you aged remarkably when you lived in the swamp and avoided your mermaid form. Is it possible that your frequent use of that form now is changing your body back to what it should be?”

  “I don’t know, Gomery,” she replied, “but I guess it is possible. Water witches were never meant to spend a great deal of time out of the water. I just figured the change in my appearance was a penalty that I had to pay to hide from the empire. It was a price I was prepared to pay.”

  Captain Gomery merely nodded and smiled. “How is it going down there?” he asked.

  “Very good,” beamed the water witch. “I will have to thank Galdan when next we meet. The kelp is flourishing like it has not in centuries. In another day or two, Despair Harbor will be little more than a lake for all boating purposes. No ships will move in or out of the harbor.”

  * * * *

  The five riders rode into Farmin through the western gates. There were soldiers on duty, but they barely glanced at Garth’s papers and then waved the group through. Prince Harold and Prince Samuel were immediately struck by the stench of the slums, but Garth knew that it had been far worse before the visit by Fakir Aziz and his healing mages. The peoples’ clothes were still threadbare, and the citizens still suffered from lack of food, but the incidence of disease was greatly diminished. Wanting the princes to see how their people were suffering, Garth led the group to the very center of the slums. He looked at the building that used to house the healing shop and dismounted.

  “We will spend the night in that building,” he nodded towards the healing shop.

  “We are not going to an inn?” asked Prince Harold.

  “Perhaps tomorrow,” Garth replied as the group dismounted.

  The group dismounted, and Natia took the reins of the mounts. Tedi cautiously approached the front door of the healing shop and found it unlocked. He opened the door and walked in. The other three men followed. Inside the shop, blankets covered the floor. Homeless citizens sat on the blankets protecting their favorite spot. Tedi led the way through the curtain and into the area that had been used for healing. More blankets littered the floor, but one corner of the room appeared to be free. Tedi crossed the room and placed his pack on the floor, reserving the area for the Knights of Alcea and the two princes.

  “Who are all these people?” questioned Prince Samuel as the rest of the group deposited their packs on the floor.

  “They are some of the homeless of Farmin,” answered Garth. “A short while ago, a group of traveling mages set up a shop in this building. They used their time here to heal and feed as many as they could. I suspect that this
building is far better than the alternatives to the people who have decided to call it home now. If you prefer, we could stay in one of the buildings that these people preferred to leave.”

  “That will not be necessary,” Prince Harold said with disgust. “Why are these people homeless?”

  “They had no young sons to join the Federation army,” answered Natia as she entered through the rear door. “Without a member of the family in the army, food becomes very expensive. Most of these people had to choose between their homes and their bellies. They chose to eat.”

  “I think you will also find that the tax burden in Ertak is far higher than you could imagine,” added Garth. “In Farmin, you are either rich or poor. There is little ground between the two.”

  “And my father allows this?” scowled Prince Harold.

  Garth moved swiftly to stand before the two princes. He kept his voice low, but there was no mistaking the displeasure in his tone.

  “Never use such words again,” he warned. “Our task is to keep you safe, but such words could make that task impossible. While there are some people in Farmin that we can share your identity with, there are none of them in this room. You shall be known as Harry and Sam until the time is right.”

  “I am sorry,” Harry apologized, “but I find it inconceivable that any monarch would allow such a disgrace.”

  “Perhaps we should have gone to Valdo first,” frowned Sam.

  “Valdo is no different,” Natia interjected. “A lot of effort is going to be required to bring these cities back to health. It will not be a job for the faint of heart.”

  Sam nodded in embarrassment. “I guess we have missed a great deal in our absence. I should have stayed and fought for what is right instead of hiding away in some monastery.”

  “What is past is past,” sighed Garth. “What you two need to dwell upon is what the future will be. You have between you the chance to make right the many wrongs of your forbearers.”

  “Is that why we are spending the night in this place?” asked Harry. “Is it to show us what we are responsible for?”

  “It is to show you who you are responsible to,” corrected Garth, “but it is also more than that. There are some people that I want you to meet. They are often hard to find in this city, but they will easily find us. Let’s settle down and get some sleep. I think it is going to be a long night.”

  The group had only been in the healing shop for an hour when the rear door opened quietly. A man slipped silently into the building. The entrance had meant to go unnoticed, but Garth was on his feet in a flash. Tedi and Natia were seconds behind. When Garth saw the man’s face, he relaxed.

  “Bacar,” Garth greeted the thief with a smile. “You didn’t waste any time.”

  “Newcomers are checked out quickly,” Bacar replied, returning the smile. “You bring more with you each time you visit. Are you staying long?”

  “In this place?” replied Garth. “Only the night. In Farmin, I am not sure of our duration. We need to meet with Juggler.”

  “We?” frowned the thief as he gazed at the other members of Garth’s group. “Two of them I can account for, but the other two are unknown to me.”

  “I vouch for them both,” declared Garth. “There will be no further questions until we stand before Juggler.”

  Bacar nodded and withdrew through the back door. Garth woke the princes and warned them to get ready to leave. By the time Harry and Sam were on their feet and had their packs strapped on, the rear door opened again. Bacar waved through the doorway, and Garth led the group out into the alley. The trip to visit Juggler was convoluted and took a far greater amount of time than Bacar had been gone from the healing shop. Garth did not mind the detour as it gave him time to think. When they were finally admitted into Juggler’s presence, Garth asked Juggler’s men to leave. The head thief of Farmin frowned at the request, but he granted it. Juggler waved his hand to the chairs sitting around the table, and the five guests seated themselves.

  “You seem to make a point of disregarding our protocols whenever you come, Garth,” Juggler opened as he gazed at the two new faces. “Why is it so vital that my men must be excluded from this meeting?”

  “I am most comfortable when I can control who hears my words,” Garth replied evasively. “We are here today to talk about the future of Ertak, and I would like to hear your thoughts on the subject. Tell us what you would like to see change in this country.”

  “The list is long,” chuckled Juggler, “but you already know that. We live in a country where the majority of the people are treated as vermin so that a few elite families can live in grandeur. What we need is a king who truly cares about the people, but that is not going to happen in Ertak. I know you must have heard the latest news, but I will repeat it for your friends. The two stepsons of King Harowin were assassinated. Many think General Montero’s men did it, but others claim it was the Spinoans. Supposedly, an Ertakan officer recently assassinated Queen Samir, and the rumor is that the Spinoans plan to retaliate by killing King Harowin. None of this is really helpful to our people because that leaves General Montero as the heir, and he is no better than King Harowin. The future for Ertak is bleak.”

  “General Montero is dead,” replied Garth. “He died during the invasion of Alcea.”

  Juggler sighed. “That hardly helps either. The only known heir beyond Montero is Prince Harold, and he is a sickly lad if he still lives. Some say he is held captive in a castle in the Dark Forest, but it doesn’t matter. The people of Ertak would never accept him as king.”

  “The people or the elite?” asked Garth.

  “The people would accept anyone who would treat them decently,” answered Juggler, “but the elite would prevent his coronation. I am afraid that if King Harowin dies, there will be chaos in Farmin. Life will become worthless as the elite scramble for advantage. It will be a bloody mess. Thousands will die just to coronate another greedy fool, and I don’t expect that whoever wins will reign for long. The game will continue forever.”

  “What if Prince Harold was not sickly?” asked Natia.

  “Unimaginable,” the thief shook his head. “The stories of healers living in the palace for years were not based on fantasy. The lad was sent away with a very short life expectancy.”

  “Would you and your people fight to see Prince Harold on the throne?” asked Garth.

  “For what purpose?” balked the thief. “If the lad still lives, he won’t for long. I will not expend the lives of my men to prop up another spoiled brat who will probably be just as greedy as his father.”

  “What if he were to turn into the type of king you want for Ertak?” pressed Garth. “What if he wanted the same future for Ertak that you wanted?”

  Juggler did not answer right away. He stared at the surface of the table and sighed deeply. “I would fight to the death for such a king,” he began, “but not if he were only going to last for months. Why are you torturing me with hypotheticals?” he asked Garth. “There is no such person and there never will be. I am thinking of moving all of my people out of Farmin until the slaughters are over.”

  Prince Harold could contain himself no longer. Unbidden, he stood up and placed his hands on the table, glaring down at the head of thieves.

  “You claim to love Ertak and her people,” scowled Prince Harold, “but you are quick to flee and leave the suffering to others. If you have ideas on how to make Ertak a better place for all, why do you not do something about them?”

  Juggler swiftly pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, a knife defensively sliding into his hand. He stared at the lad facing him, and his face distorted in confusion.

  “Who have you brought into my lair, Garth Shado?” Juggler asked angrily.

  Garth rose cautiously and eased Prince Harold back into his chair. He held up his hands to the thief, and Juggler sheathed his knife but did not retake his seat at the table.

  “I apologize to both of you,” Garth said sincerely. “This meeting has not gon
e the way I had anticipated. I think both of you need to calm down and hear the thoughts of the other before lashing out at one another. You both want the same thing for the people of Ertak, and together, I think you can achieve it.”

  “Together?” Juggler echoed in a curious tone. “You can’t possibly mean what I think you mean.”

  “I can,” smiled Garth. “Prince Harold is no longer a sickly lad, Juggler, and he wants an Ertak as fine as the one you want.”

  “A thief and a prince?” frowned Juggler. “Together? Is this truly him?”

  Garth simply nodded. Juggler stared at the young man seated before him. There were signs of a family resemblance to the king, but the lad did not appear sickly in any way. After a moment of hesitation, Juggler bowed respectfully and sat down.

  “Pardon my words from before, Prince Harold,” Juggler said sincerely. “Perhaps we are better off starting this conversation over again. While I did talk of fleeing, that thought was one of frustration and desperation. Prove to me that you will be a noble king, and my men will die to put you on the throne.”

  Chapter 19

  To the Enemy

  A squad of soldiers marched through the wharf section of the city of Ur. They were not members of the 32nd Corps that occupied Tyronia. They were members of King Mectin’s personal guard, and they were in search of women for King Mectin. The citizens of the city moved away from the squad of soldiers, a mixture of fear and disgust on their faces. With no women in sight along the wharves, the soldiers started entering the taverns that populated the area. When they entered the Pirate’s Cove, the sergeant issued a call for women who would like to be the Queen of Tyronia. No one spoke and the soldiers moved back out of the tavern.