Heirs of the Enemy

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Heirs of the Enemy Page 13

by Richard S. Tuttle

“Why did you not attack the soldiers, Kalmar?” asked Fakir.

  “I was helping Eulena shield the group.”

  “And you cannot shield and attack at the same time?”

  “I could,” frowned Kalmar, “but it didn’t seem necessary.”

  “One of the purposes of us traveling together is to learn about the others and gain faith in their abilities,” explained the Mage. “Theos had no appreciation for the skills of the rest of you, or he would not have been so rash.”

  “But to banish him seems rather harsh,” stated Eulena. “I believe that he is good underneath the fury he presents to others.”

  “Perhaps so,” shrugged the Mage, “but this mission is too critical to leave to chance. He will have to be replaced.”

  “We were already one person short,” mentioned Zynor. “Now we are two short.”

  Fakir raised an eyebrow at the Zaroccan’s words.

  “At first I thought the spare unicorn was simply that, a spare,” reasoned Zynor, “but that is not true. There is yet another member of this team that you have chosen, for one reason or another, to exclude from our journeys. I wonder why that is.”

  “If we are to learn about the others on this team,” offered Valera, “shouldn’t all of the members be traveling with us?”

  “She has a point,” agreed Kalmar.

  Fakir sighed and nodded. “The final member of the team would not be acceptable to the inhabitants of the Federation cities. We would be forced to avoid the cities. While you are correct, Valera, I decided that the good you are all capable of doing inside the Federation cities overruled my desire to complete the assembling of the team. I still feel that way. When the time is proper, I will make the team complete.” Fakir rose to his feet and gazed down at the others. “Now, it is time for us to abandon this camp. Let us put some distance between us and this battlefield tonight. After a short rest in our new campsite, we will head for Farmin where you may once again heal the sick.”

  The group packed up their belongings and cleaned up the campsite. Fakir Aziz led them on a path that paralleled the Coast Road, but never came near it. Several hours later, he halted in a large clearing and dismounted.

  “This place will do for the night,” he declared. “Set up camp and then get some rest.”

  Without further explanation, Fakir Aziz walked out of the clearing and disappeared.

  * * * *

  The wizard bolted upright in his bed and stared into the darkness. For a moment he sat silently, listening to the sounds of the night. When he detected nothing unusual, he was about to return to sleep, but he then realized that he was sweating. He reached up and wiped his hand across his hairless head and felt the dampness on his palm. Curious, he got out of bed and walked to the window cut in the side of his tower. He leaned out and stared at the reflection of a crescent moon shining brightly on the surface of the vast lake. The air was deathly still; not even a slight breeze stirred the air.

  “Odd,” the wizard mumbled to himself. “There is always a breeze of some kind.”

  He twisted his neck to gaze upward and saw brilliant stars dotting the inky sky above. He looked down at the base of the tower, and a lump formed in his throat. Far below, two unicorns frolicked on the grass. He would have enjoyed watching the magnificent creatures, but the wizard understood what their presence meant. He turned from the window and quickly dressed. Hurrying out of his sleeping chamber, he made his way down the narrow winding stairs to the floor that held his library. He threw open the doors and gazed into the room.

  “It has long been considered rude to enter a man’s library unbidden,” the wizard said to the figure sitting in the chair before the desk.

  “I think such protocols are dependant upon the intent of the visitor,” smiled the Mage. “Obviously I have no interest in stealing your books, or even perusing them for that matter. Welcome me to your home, Atule.”

  “It would be a little bit late for that,” scowled the wizard. “You seem to have already made yourself welcome. What do you want?”

  “You know what I want,” replied the Mage.

  “I have already given you my answer.” Atule shook his head vigorously as he rounded the desk and sat in his well-worn chair. “Get someone else.”

  “I have already traveled that path,” sighed the Mage. “I would not have come back if your services were not needed.”

  “Well, try again,” Atule replied sharply. “I am not available.”

  “I could make you available,” frowned the Mage.

  A look of concern passed over the wizard’s face. He glanced around at the thousands of volumes that comprised his library, and a shiver raced down his spine. He turned his head towards the Mage and sighed.

  “We have been through this before. The magic of the jungle is tied to me. Should I leave Atule’s Maze, I will leave it unprotected. You agreed that such a failure would not be in anyone’s interest.”

  “I still agree to that premise, but times have changed. Your women are moving out of the jungle to engage the world of men once more. Their need for protection diminishes with each passing day.”

  “But it has not diminished entirely yet. Why not choose someone else?”

  “I tried,” admitted the Mage, “but it did not work out. You know that I would not have come back here unless it was necessary. Am I wrong?”

  Atule rose to his feet and started pacing the floor. Fakir Aziz waited patiently.

  “Would you really force me to join you?” asked Atule.

  “No,” smiled the Mage. “I only mentioned my ability to make you available, but it is not my way to demand what should be freely given. It is your choice to make, but it is my obligation to ask. You were given a tremendous gift, Atule. I am asking to borrow it.”

  “Borrow?” balked the wizard. “I know well enough that any endeavor that requires my skill is likely to be a life-ending journey. Am I wrong?”

  “I can make no promises of your continued existence,” stated the Mage.

  “As I suspected,” sighed Atule. “Tell me what terrors we must face.”

  “The greatest terror of them all.”

  “I understand.” Atule nodded and moved to the window. He stared out at the lake and visualized the jungle beyond it. It had been his home for hundreds of years. A tear started to well up in his eye, and he hastily wiped it away. “I will have to inform Tsarana that her people will no longer be protected.”

  “You will tell no one,” replied the Mage. “Pray that you will return home before she has need of your protection.”

  “But I have promised her and her people,” protested Atule.

  “And what have you promised her?” asked the Mage.

  “That the jungle would be their refuge.”

  “And so it shall. Surely you did not promise her that you would live forever? Or that the jungle would be enchanted forever?”

  “No,” conceded the wizard.

  “Then the only thing holding you here is your reluctance to join me. Give me your answer, Atule.”

  “You have known my answer before you arrived here tonight,” sighed Atule. “I could only refuse with your permission. Let me gather some things to take with me.”

  Chapter 10

  Feeding the Enemy

  Dawn arrived in the Bloodwood before the Mage. When Fakir Aziz led Atule into the campsite, the others were already sitting around the fire enjoying the morning meal. The Mage began the introductions in the order in which the members had joined the group. Meaningless pleasantries were exchanged until he got to Crystil. The old hag bowed wordless to Atule when she was introduced. Atule frowned at the gesture, but Fakir Aziz continued with the introductions, ending with Eulena. The new arrivals joined the others around the fire and quickly finished up the morning meal. Fakir Aziz ordered everyone to pack up, and the group set off for the city of Farmin. Fakir Aziz led the way and the others followed in pairs. Atule rode alongside Zynor behind the Mage, followed closely by Eulena and Crystil. Valera and Ka
lmar trailed behind, and the Koroccan mage allowed a healthy gap to develop between them and the rest of the group.

  “Is your unicorn lame?” Valera asked with concern. “We are falling behind.”

  “There is no danger of losing track of the others,” Kalmar said softly. “I just wanted to talk about the newcomer without being overheard.”

  “Ah,” Valera nodded with understanding. “So you noticed it, too?”

  “Noticed it?” frowned Kalmar. “I do not know what you are referring to.”

  “The bow,” replied Valera.

  “Oh,” replied Kalmar. “Yes, I noticed that. I guess that is what clued me in to the name. So, Atule is the one that Atule’s Maze is named after?”

  “He is Atule,” nodded Valera. “There is only one Atule.”

  “So that is why Crystil bowed with such reverence,” stated Kalmar. “That makes sense now. I guess we should all be honored to be in his presence.”

  Valera looked at the Koroccan mage as if he had said that the sky was green. She shook her head at how clueless Kalmar was. “That was not a bow of reverence. She was mocking him.”

  “Mocking him? I do not understand.”

  “That is stating the obvious,” laughed Valera. “You could see it in her face, although I am sure that the great Atule missed it as well. There is some deep-seated hatred for Atule burning in that woman’s heart.”

  Kalmar frowned deeply and rode on in silence for a few minutes before speaking. “It appears that Fakir Aziz may have traded one trouble for another. I wonder if he is aware of the potential problem?”

  “Very little seems to get past Fakir Aziz unnoticed, but this might be the exception,” answered Valera. “In any event, it will be interesting to see what develops.”

  “Interesting? I just hope that whatever it is, it doesn’t get us all killed. The Federation is already tense after the escape of the elven children. It won’t take much to set off another crisis.”

  * * * *

  King Arik finished going through all the papers and sighed with relief. He stuck his finger into his pocket to waken Prince Midge, but his pocket was empty. He frowned as he tried to remember if he had already sent the fairy prince on an errand.

  “What is the matter?” asked Queen Tanya.

  “Prince Midge is gone,” answered the king.

  “He is with Prince Oscar,” chirped Bantam as she flitted around the room.

  “What is he doing there?” asked King Arik.

  “I do not know,” shrugged the tiny woman. “It is secret.”

  “Secret?” echoed the king. When the fairy did not reply, the king dismissed the topic. “Bantam, I need to get word to General Gregor that the papers he wanted signed have been taken care of. Will you deliver that for me?”

  “Of course,” Bantam replied cheerily. “I will do anything for the Bringer.”

  The fairy shot out of the room, and King Arik looked questioningly at the queen. “What do you suppose my father is up to?”

  “Why don’t we go and find out?” suggested the queen. “You look like you could use some time outside this office. I know that I could.”

  “It does seem that we spend far too much time on the mundane affairs of office,” frowned the Warrior King. “Perhaps we can spar after we visit Prince Oscar.”

  “I could think of no better way to spend the afternoon,” grinned the queen.

  The royal couple exited the office and proceeded to Prince Oscar’s office. They entered without knocking and gazed at a comical sight. Prince Oscar and Prince Midge turned at the sound of the door opening. Each of them sported a look of guilt so strong that would make any jury who saw them immediately convict them of whatever crime they were accused of. King Arik closed the door and crossed the room to stand before his father.

  “What are you two up to?” asked the king.

  Prince Midge and Prince Oscar looked at each other, but neither of them spoke. Queen Tanya crossed the room with a giggle on her lips.

  “Out with it you two,” she demanded. “You know the penalty for defying the king.”

  “Prince Midge and I were just discussing the need to recall all of the fairies that are not needed in the field,” answered Prince Oscar. “They will be needed to shadow the arriving soldiers from the Federation.”

  “That’s it?” frowned King Arik. “Why would that be secret from me?”

  “There is more,” interjected Queen Tanya. “I can see it in their faces.”

  “Out with it,” the king demanded sternly. “And I want to hear all of it. No more games.”

  “We are selling horses to the Federation,” chirped Prince Midge.

  “What?” gasped the queen.

  “And food,” added Prince Oscar.

  “You had better explain this to me,” commanded King Arik.

  “Have a seat,” sighed Prince Oscar as he waved towards the chairs in front of his desk.

  Arik and Tanya seated themselves and waited for an explanation of the bizarre behavior of the princes.

  “It takes a lot of time to bring thousands of horses through a Door,” explained Prince Oscar. “I discovered that the owners of the farms where the Doors are located are in the market for local horses, so I decided to sell them the horses and make a nice profit off of our enemy.”

  “I can’t believe that I am hearing this,” frowned the king. “This is a traitorous act, Father.”

  “It is not,” scowled Prince Oscar. “Let me finish. I have set up unscrupulous horse traders in each of our provinces. The men manning the corrals are Spiders, and they know who the owners of the farms are. They each have two sets of corrals. One corral is for show, and it is where the buyers are taken to inspect the herds. The deliveries are made from the other corral.”

  “So the horses you are selling the Federation are less than cavalry grade?” asked the queen.

  “Very much so,” grinned Prince Oscar.

  “Won’t the Federation know that they were cheated when the horses are delivered?” asked the king.

  “Probably,” smiled Prince Oscar. “We mix in enough decent horses to hide the fact that we are selling them nags, but what are they going to do about it if they do discover our treachery? I have managed to obtain most of the saleable horses in Alcea. Using their standard mix of cavalry and infantry, the Federation is going to need almost fifty-thousand horses. Besides our corrals, there are no other places for them to go for such large quantities of horses.”

  “And the sales cannot be traced back to our government,” added Prince Midge. “If the buyers do know that they have been cheated, they will not complain to you for fear of questions about why they need so many horses.”

  “And they will probably not report their foolishness to the Federation, either,” stated Prince Oscar. “We are charging outrageous prices for the horses, and I doubt that any of the farmers are going to be willing to admit that they squandered all that gold. The penalty for failure in the Federation can be quite severe.”

  “And if they do report it to Despair,” continued Prince Midge, “all they can do is bring their own horses through the Doors, delaying their schedule and causing confusion.”

  “And the food?” asked the queen.

  “Same type of deal,” answered Prince Oscar. “Now that we know that they must preposition food in Alcea, we are setting up food merchants who will only sell in large quantities. The prices will be exorbitant, but the Federation will need supplies for a quarter of a million men. You cannot buy such quantities in the local food markets. They will be drawn to our new merchants like flies to a carcass.”

  “And we will steal the food back,” chirped Prince Midge.

  “That is why we need the fairies to shadow the colonels,” offered Prince Oscar. “We have to know where they will preposition the food.”

  King Arik nodded thoughtfully and then said, “Do not steal the food back until the armies come through the Doors. If they have any decent officers leading their armies, they will
verify the provisions just before the invasion.”

  “What are you doing with all the gold?” asked Queen Tanya.

  “A number of things,” answered Prince Oscar. “Most of it is going into the treasury to pay for the cost of the coming war, but I am allocating portions of it to fund our other activities. Zack Nolan is getting a healthy allowance to facilitate the appearance of a wealthy Vinaforan. It is nice to be able to use the Federation’s own gold against it.”

  “You are incorrigible, Father,” chuckled the king. “Carry on with your plans. The queen and I have some very pressing business to attend to.”

  * * * *

  General Forshire entered the private dining room reserved for the representatives from countries west of the Barrier. General Fabio of Karamin was seated in his usual place, but no one else was in the room. Clint crossed the room and sat across from General Fabio.

  “Ah, company at last,” greeted General Fabio. “I was beginning to look upon this dining room as my personal place to get away from it all.”

  Clint raised an eyebrow at Fabio as a servant came to take his order. Clint ordered a simple meal and the servant departed.

  “Does Garibaldi not join you any more?”

  “You are behind on your news,” replied General Fabio. “Garibaldi was arrested well before the celebration began. I think he has been executed, but I can find no one to confirm that. You are to be congratulated on recognizing him as a danger early on.”

  “I cannot say that I am surprised,” replied General Forshire. “What did he do?”

  General Fabio lowered his voice and leaned across the table. “They say that he used the V Corps to attack the elven reeducation center. I can’t imagine why the fool would do such a thing.”

  “To get noticed,” shrugged Clint.

  “That is precisely what I told Grand General Kyrga during the investigation, but I still have trouble understanding it.”

  “Then why did you offer it up as a reason?”

  “Only because of your words the last time we met. You predicted that he would do something to gain attention for himself, and I have no doubt that you knew what you were talking about, but I still can’t fathom how his mind must have worked. I mean, he did get attention, but certainly not the kind he wished for.”

 

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