White Angel

by R A Oakes

  Mounting Zorya, White Angel 19 flew skyward quickly followed by White Angels 20 through 29. Literally hot on their heels were Chen, Marcheto and Jewel.

  “For the king!” White Angel 19 shouted as she, Baelfire and Zorya circled once as Flame had done, then plummeted downward at the red-hot lava. However, before splashing into the fiery molten magma, Chen caught up to her stepdaughter who confided in her that, “I’m a little frightened by all this.”

  “By this? Why?” Chen laughed, given that she was enjoying herself immensely.

  “Doesn’t anything frighten you, mom?” White Angel 19 asked which was the first time Aerylln, in White Angel form or not, had referred to Chen as her mother.

  “I fear being caged. I’d rather be dead than held captive.”

  “But this doesn’t bother you at all?”

  “Aerylln, any of us could die at any given moment, if only by some freak accident. The only difference between then and now is that here we know we might die. Life is so fragile, my daughter, that it’s impossible to avoid taking risks. In fact, unless you’re willing to risk everything at any given moment, human wolves will really start circling you. Mostly male wolves.”

  “Mom, you once told me that women will never be free until they learn to defend themselves.”

  “I’m glad you remembered that because men communicate with violence. It’s the only language they really understand.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “As I’ve said before, men are motivated by five things. Food, sex, money, power and violence.”

  “You don’t have a very high opinion of men, do you?”

  “In time, neither will you. Women emphasize day-to-day life which takes maturity, and that’s something men avoid like the plague.”

  “Why?”

  “Males see it as a gateway to endless boredom.”

  “Is it?”

  “No, it just eliminates baby fat, but most men prefer to stay in the womb.”

  “For how long?”

  “Some men never come out. They’re born physically but never get around to being born emotionally or spiritually.”

  “That puts a lot of pressure on women.”

  “Yes it does.”

  “But Lord Pensgraft and Marcheto aren’t like that.”

  “True, they’ve looked inward, confronted themselves and admitted their fears.”

  “What do men fear most?”

  “Women!”

  Astride Zorya, who’d been transformed into a giant warhorse, the youngest White Angel gripped Baelfire tightly and watched the surface of the lava as it got closer and closer. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she glanced over at her stepmother, saw the determined look on her face and felt a whole lot safer.

  “You like danger, don’t you?”

  “Honey, I invented it.”

  With that, the women went headfirst into the red-hot river of lava.

  Chapter 11

  Dominion Castle.

  General Zarkahn, watching from the highest tower, noticed an unusual pattern to the flames pouring off the rivers of lava flowing along the base of the mountain far below.

  “Something’s not right,” he said to Chief Ambassador Valkira.

  “Around this castle, what’s not right would make a rather long list.”

  “Well, I’ve something to add to it. I just saw several streaks of flame moving in a circular pattern.”

  “But lava shoots upward, forming a graceful arcing movement.”

  “This wasn’t lava.”

  “What else could it be?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You worry too much. Balzekior said King Tarlen’s dead, and that’ll take the wind out of the sails of any opposition that was brewing.”

  “Don’t be so sure.”

  “Balzekior felt him dying, she sensed it. Now, humans will lose heart.”

  “I don’t believe King Tarlen’s dead.”

  “Why not? Balzekior’s all but certain.”

  “Something in my gut tells me he’s alive, but he must be in pretty bad shape if Balzekior has written him off. King Tarlen could be desperate and that might work to our advantage.”

  “Where do you come up with your theories?”

  “Just learn to expect the worst. You’ll rarely be disappointed.”

  “Okay, even if the king’s still alive, how is that going to help us?”

  “Swarenth’s riding high right now. His nemesis is dead, or so he thinks. While Swarenth’s guard is down, we should find Tarlen and strike a deal.”

  “Our warlord never lowers his guard.”

  “You overestimate that dimwitted, cantankerous old gargoyle.”

  “Maybe,” Valkira said, but the chief ambassador didn’t think so. For the first time, Valkira began to doubt General Zarkahn’s grasp of gargoyle ruthlessness. “When things are going well, that’s when a gargoyle is most suspicious. And remember, Swarenth’s a lot like you. He always expects the worst, even in the best of times.”

  “Well, if he thinks like me, then we can exploit that.”

  “How?”

  “I believe in giving my superior what he wants the most.”

  “And what does Swarenth want most?”

  “Tarlen’s dead body.”

  “True.”

  “I’ll tell Swarenth that I’ll get it for him.”

  “But you believe King Tarlen’s still alive.”

  “Swarenth doesn’t know that.”

  “How do you plan on finding a dead or badly wounded king?”

  “I’ll let him find me.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll ride north towards Hawthorn Village. King Tarlen has friends there.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve ridden up that way alone a few times. Humans will talk to other humans.”

  “How do you plan on approaching them now?”

  “Alone.”

  “In disguise?”

  “Not this time.”

  “You’ll be taken prisoner.”

  “I’m counting on that. Let his own people take me to him. I’ll be okay as long as I’m not captured by Chen.”

  “You’re going to leave the security of Dominion Castle and go on a quest to find a dead or dying king, and then you plan on striking a deal with Tarlen when there’s no chance in hell of him ever defeating Swarenth and Balzekior. That’s your strategy?”

  “Always do the unexpected. It’s the shortest path to victory.”

  “You make me nervous.”

  “What I’ll do is make your son governor of an entire region of the Kardimont kingdom, at least after we’ve helped Tarlen regain the castle.”

  “I thought the plan was to depose Swarenth and make my son king?”

  “Plans change,” General Zarkahn said shrugging his shoulders and smiling ruefully.

  Chief Ambassador Valkira wasn’t amused.

  “Listen to me, Valkira. Swarenth’s rule isn’t as stable as everyone thinks, so we should be able to topple him. But do you really believe General Takanar will support us in making your son lord of Dominion Castle? I don’t, not now that I’ve met him.”

  “So we abandon my son?”

  “No, of course not. But after meeting the general and speaking to others about him, I’m convinced General Takanar will be a lot harder to unseat than Swarenth. Next to Balzekior, he’s the most powerful person in this castle.”

  “So how does my son gain from siding with King Tarlen?”

  “We’ll make him governor of whatever region Tarlen bestows on us, and we’ll integrate both gargoyles and humans together in our domain. As we get stronger, we’ll eventually expand and demand more and more land. Your son could end up being a very important person.”

  “But not king?”

  “General Takanar is in the way of that dream.”

  “I guess your plan’s a good one. After all, you’re the general,” Valkira said, though not completely convinced.

&nbs
p; “Stick with me, and everything will be fine,” General Zarkahn reassured him.

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  But privately Valkira was thinking, General Zarkahn enjoys taking risks and likes a good fight. He thrives on conflict. But chasing after a dead or dying king might be going a bit too far. What if he’s wrong?

  General Zarkahn was watching Valkira’s face and saw the doubt in his eyes. The general thought, This diplomat hasn’t got the stomach for what needs to be done. He may be a liability at this point.

  “So are we in agreement? We back King Tarlen and make your son governor?”

  “Yes, I’m with you.”

  They shook hands on the deal while putting a reassuring hand on each other’s shoulder. However, a shakier alliance had never been made.

  Taking a last look out the window, General Zarkahn wondered if the circular streaks of flame he’d seen earlier indicated anything important. “What’s underneath Dominion Castle? Isn’t there some sort of lake of lava?”

  “Yes, and it’s said that Balzekior derives most of her power from it.”

  “Oh?” was all General Zarkahn said.

  But to himself he thought, Maybe not for long.

  Chapter 12

  Hawthorn Village.

  “General Zarkahn has been intercepted by our sentries just south of the village, Minister Rowkar,” Sgt. Velestos reported.

  “Sergeant, I’ve been going by the name Rowkar in public for nearly half of my life. It would be nice to get back to my real name, if you don’t mind,” Carplorthian said.

  “Sorry, but referring to you openly by your actual name is difficult. After living under a strict veil of secrecy for years, using your real name doesn’t seem natural.”

  “The more you use it, the more natural it will seem.”

  “Yes, Carplorthian.”

  “Just call him Carp or Fish,” an older warrior said referring to the childhood nicknames a 6-year-old King Tarlen had once bestowed upon his chief advisor.

  “I prefer Lord Pensgraft’s nickname for me. The Gray Fox. It makes me sound dashing.”

  “That would be a bit of a stretch,” the older warrior laughed as he reached over and patted Carplorthian’s rather ample paunch.

  What wasn’t a stretch, however, was Carplorthian’s even more ample reputation for guile and cunning, for he’d been outsmarting gargoyle search parties for decades. King Tarlen’s identity had remained a closely guarded secret for so long largely due to the mental gymnastics of a man whose mind was as supple as his body was rotund.

  Knowing that some people tended to underestimate those of “full stature,” as Carplorthian put it, he played on this prejudice. More than one opponent had realized all too late that dismissing the Gray Fox was a dangerous mistake.

  Chen had once planted a big kiss on his forehead, so pleased was she with his devious mind and his ability to blend subterfuge into seemingly innocuous situations. Mental slight- of-hand was Carplorthian’s stock in trade. In him, the black leather panther had discovered a kindred spirit. That her intellectual companion was almost three times her own body weight wasn’t relevant to the ever-adaptable warrior woman.

  And General Zarkahn was now a prisoner of the Gray Fox, someone as formidable as himself, even if the portly older gentleman didn’t look it. However, the general knew with whom he was dealing. He’d known Carplorthian back at Skybrook Castle where the rotund strategist had become Genevieve’s most trusted friend and confidant. As Minister Rowkar, Carplorthian had made major contributions towards defeating the factions opposing Genevieve’s becoming lord of Skybrook Castle upon her father’s death. And he’d accomplished all this without using a knife, a sword or a conventional weapon of any kind, just his guile. General Zarkahn had been one of Genevieve’s strongest opponents, but he’d fallen hard before the intellectual axe Carplorthian used to cut him down.

  “So, General Zarkahn’s here at Hawthorn Village?” the Gray Fox asked surprised.

  “Yes, Carplorthian. A few of my men have him in custody,” Sgt. Velestos said, who was Captain Polaris’ second- in-command.

  “Well, the general’s either crazy or quite smart. I’m not sure which.”

  “Both, if his reputation’s warranted.”

  “Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I believe it is.”

  “Then this should prove interesting,” Sgt. Velestos observed.

  Carplorthian walked out of the schoolhouse, a building he was long familiar with, having served as the teacher during the 15 years King Tarlen, Captain Polaris and over 100 members of the king’s personal guard had been hiding in and around the village. In those days, the king’s personal guards had quietly purchased several farms near Hawthorn Village and had built what looked like new barns but were military barracks in disguise. Some of the warriors had proceeded to work the land as farmers, but most remained in hiding during daylight hours. Captain Polaris had lived in town, as had Carplorthian, and served as the village shoemaker. As for King Tarlen, from the age of six to 21, he had served as the local blacksmith’s apprentice.

  The king and his men had been hiding in plain sight, as Carplorthian put it, just 40 miles north of Dominion Castle, almost right under Swarenth’s nose, which was the last place the warlord expected them to be. It had worked for years until, well until their cover had been blown. That’s when Carplorthian had orchestrated their move to the Skybrook Castle area located two-weeks’ ride northwest. There they’d posed as ranchers and Carplorthian had gradually earned the confidence of both Genevieve and her father, Lord Stallington.

  And now, here at Hawthorn Village, it was the Gray Fox that General Zarkahn had come to see. The general believed that if anyone could understand the confusion and madness of life and take his suggestions seriously, it was Carplorthian. In a previous meeting, General Zarkahn had come up short when measured against him, but this time the general was counting on the Gray Fox’s mental superiority to help him get into the king’s good graces, and out of Chen’s clutches. This was a lot to hope for given that, not long ago, General Zarkahn had kidnapped Genevieve as well as Chen’s baby girl, Dylancia. Fortunately, both had returned home in good health. Nonetheless, the black leather panther wanted the general’s head on a spike and was likely to get it if she got wind of his being outside Dominion Castle.

  Luckily for General Zarkahn, she was currently at Coldstream Village and was preoccupied with teaching the men and women how to fight.

  Now, as Carplorthian walked out into Hawthorn’s village square, a warrior carrying himself with a crisp military bearing approached on his horse, surrounded by ten of the king’s personal guards, any one of whom was his equal in battle. “Good morning, general,” Carplorthian said calmly as if greeting an acquaintance and not an old enemy.

  “Good morning, counselor. How’s Genevieve?”

  “Since you weren’t able to take Skybrook Castle away from her, I guess she’s doing quite well.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. She’s a fine woman. A fine woman.”

  “But that was a problem for you, wasn’t it? You couldn’t stand the idea of a woman being in power.”

  “Well, I hope I can make amends for my poor judgment. If I had it to do over again, I would have supported her.”

  “That’s because she won.”

  “True. It pays to be practical.”

  “Do you really think Genevieve will do business with a scoundrel like you?”

  “No, of course not, but I’m hoping you will.”

  “Why should I?”

  “I’ll unseat Swarenth.”

  “That’s not much of a personal sacrifice for you, is it? In fact, it’s something that would work to your advantage, allowing you to focus on General Takanar. You want to get rid of a mad gargoyle warlord in the hopes of being able to deal more effectively with Swarenth’s top general.”

  “You see life so clearly,” General Zarkahn said.

  “I’d need to see a clear path to Dominion Castle’s throne b
efore giving you a moment’s consideration.”

  “And what if I could help you achieve that?”

  “General, let me be honest,” Carplorthian said.

  “Counselor, I wouldn’t miss your assessment of the current state of affairs for anything. You have my undivided attention.”

  “Well, I’m a hair’s breath from having Sgt. Velestos divide you in two.”

  General Zarkahn sat stock still in his saddle taking the threat seriously. Without bothering to look over at the sergeant, he could sense that the warrior had unsheathed his sword.

  “We need to put the past behind us, Carplorthian.”

  “A sword through your chest would put the past behind us,” the Gray Fox parried.

  “But that would put a damper on future cooperative efforts.”

  “Which is probably a good thing, since you can’t be trusted.”

  “How about if we stick to things where trust isn’t required.”

  “That’s a pretty short list.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “Really? And why is that?”

  “Balzekior believes King Tarlen is dead.”

  The king’s men, on edge already from worrying about their master’s health, were in no mood for such talk. They all unsheathed their swords, anger pouring off of them.

  “Sgt. Velestos, please grant me a moment more with this cad before you kill him,” Carplorthian said.

  The sergeant raised his hand, looking around at his warriors, silently indicating for them to allow Carplorthian to handle this matter. General Zarkahn took a deep breath.

  “You were saying, general?”

  “However, the king isn’t dead, is he?”

  Carplorthian remained silent.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “Why would you think he’s alive?” the Gray Fox asked, watching his opponent’s eyes, seeking any hint of the general’s true intentions.

  “Your men act like warriors who still expect to take back Dominion Castle. They’re desperate, yes. But defeated, no. They have hope, so their king must be alive.”

  “You expect us to allow you to leave with this information?”

  “No, unless when I leave, you see us as being on the same side.”