The Knights of Alcea passed through the kitchen and into the infirmary. Garth nodded to Eulena and Valera as they worked their healing magics on the infirm. Zynor and another mage, whom Garth had never met, entered the infirmary through a curtained passage. Each of them led an ailing citizen towards a bed. Garth passed through the curtain and found himself in the potion shop. Kalmar stood behind a counter, and a line of people stretched towards the door leading to the street. Garth headed straight for the Koroccan mage.
“Where is Fakir Aziz?” he asked.
Kalmar turned at the sound of Garth’s voice and stared at him with tired eyes. The mage appeared exhausted, and he took a minute to recognize the Knight of Alcea.
Kalmar nodded to another door on the side wall of the shop. “I don’t know, but he spends a good deal of time in the office. I think something weighs heavy on his mind.”
“You look tired, Kalmar,” said Natia. “Perhaps you should rest a bit.”
“There will be time for resting after the evening meal.” The mage smiled weakly. “If you have come to help, there is still plenty of time left in the day. You could free up Zynor and Atule so they can spend more time healing.”
“Tell us what you need done,” Natia volunteered as Garth walked away. “Tedi and I will help. I owe my life to you.”
The conversation faded as Garth strode across the room. He opened the door to the office and found the Mage sitting behind a desk. The old man had his eyes closed with his chin resting on his chest. When Garth closed the door, Fakir’s eyes opened and he looked up.
“Alex,” greeted the Mage. “Do you not have enough to do in the world without visiting old friends?”
“Call me Garth,” smiled the Knight of Alcea.
Fakir waved his hand dismissively. “What is a name? It has nothing to do with the man behind it. I have carried so many names that it is hard to keep track of them.” The Mage sighed wearily and shook his head. “I suppose you felt obligated to interrogate me about the change in the weather. There is nothing I can add to your knowledge that you would understand.”
“Actually,” Garth responded, “I came to speak to Fakir Aziz.”
The Mage’s brow creased as he waved for Garth to sit down. “I do not see anyone else in this room. What do your words mean?”
“I need to speak to the tutor, historian, and philosopher who has spent his life traveling through the cities of the Federation.”
The Mage raised an eyebrow as he stared at Garth. His eyes suddenly sparkled, and his weariness seemed to evaporate. “What use would you have for an old historian?”
“I believe you once told me that you had the pleasure of tutoring the children of the rich and famous. I am particularly interested in the royal lines of the Federation countries. What can you tell me about them?”
“I do not know if I would characterize the experience as a pleasure,” chuckled Fakir. “Most royal families are rather abnormal. Perhaps it comes from having riches and power laid at your feet without breaking a sweat to have earned the position. Most princes join the military at a young age, but others often become embarrassments for the monarchs. What did you want to know?”
“Everything you can tell me,” answered Garth. “Seeing as the gods have granted Alcea some more time before the invasion, I think it would be wise to make use of it. I cannot spend the entire winter hunting down priests.”
“You must be careful in your pursuit of the demonkin,” warned the Mage. “Do not take that task lightly. The last death in Valdo has shaken the Federation. Expect to find hearty resistance to your efforts in the future. They are wary.”
“I will mind your advice well,” promised the Knight of Alcea, “but I must also plan for the aftermath of the coming war. It serves no purpose to defeat the Federation without changing the culture that exists in this land. Tell me of the heirs.”
“You are wise, Garth Shado. That is a rarity in warriors these days. Where shall I begin?”
“Aerta.”
“The heir to King Anator’s throne is General Alden. I did not personally tutor the heir, but I did tutor his children. They are reasonably intelligent children, but not remarkable. I would say that the Aertans might be among the most normal of the royals.”
“Ertak?”
“General Montero is the eldest son of King Harowin. I did tutor him for a short while. He is a vicious creature, far more cruel than his father. In fact, I would not be surprised if the king fears his son. If he does not, he is a fool.”
“You said he was the eldest son. Is there another?”
“There is.” Fakir Aziz nodded. “His younger brother is Prince Harold, but I doubt the country would accept him if he ever did ascend to the throne. Harold is a sickly boy, always has been, and weakness is not accepted well in the halls of the Royal Palace of Ertak.”
“Does he live in the palace?”
“Goodness, no,” answered the historian. “King Harowin does not want him seen by anyone. He wouldn’t want anyone to infer that weakness runs in the family. They keep him secluded in one of the castles in the Dark Forest. The boy wants for nothing, but he is nothing more than a prisoner. It is a shame in a way. The boy is quite intelligent.”
“Spino?”
“Queen Samir had one son followed by two daughters. By custom, the son should be a general in the army, but he proved to be another embarrassment. Prince Samuel joined an odd religious sect when he came of age, and he ran away. When he was later found in a monastery of the Cult of Everlasting Bounty, the queen decided to leave him there and announce that he had died. I suppose Samir felt that she could hide her shame, but word leaked out and now the people snicker behind her back.”
“What is the Cult of Everlasting Bounty?”
“It is a religious group that thinks the gods have forsaken Spino. It started up in the year of the Collapse, which is when Prince Samuel was born. They considered it quite a coup when they managed to get him to join. Queen Samir threatened to annihilate them, but they used the prince’s life to stave off the attacks. Samir finally tired of it. I think she is more comfortable leaving the country to one of her daughters. She thinks that women are more suited to ruling than men.”
“What about Barouk?”
“The empire is a curious culture. I never was called to tutor any of the imperial children. In fact, the emperor keeps them hidden away out of fear of assassination. In the empire, a coup is only possible if you totally destroy the entire family. If there is any member of the imperial family alive, the army will fight for them.”
“Even if the Grand General is among the usurpers?”
Fakir Aziz frowned and fell silent for a moment. “I do not know the answer to that question, but if I were the usurper, I would not take that chance. I suppose anything is possible.”
“And Candanar?”
“Prince Bultar is King Bartomir’s heir. I am afraid that I know little of him. While Candanar is part of the Federation, the country is seldom spoken of. They have no army that I am aware of, and I have never heard of the king taking part in any Federation meetings. I am afraid that I spent my years along the coast of the Sea of Tears. Perhaps someone else can tell you more.”
“I thank you for the knowledge that you were able to give me.”
“And what will you do with it? Will you hold a boy or a man accountable for the deeds of his mother or father?”
“Every man is accountable for his own deeds,” answered the Knight of Alcea, “but I will not allow the unfortunate people of the Federation to fall prey to another group of tyrants. If Alcea is successful in the coming war, I plan to be prepared for what comes after.”
Fakir Aziz pressed his lips tightly together and nodded as if he knew what the future held, but refused to reveal it. Garth rose from his chair and bowed respectfully to the Mage. He slipped out of the room and went in search of Juggler, the head thief of Farmin.
Chapter 25
Faux Soldiers
The knock on the doo
r was soft but persistent. Tedi rolled out of bed, grasping his staff as he rose to his feet. Natia’s head rose off the pillow and stared into the darkness.
“Is that our door?” she whispered. “It sounds too soft.”
“It is our door,” insisted Tedi. “Prepare yourself.”
Natia slid out of bed and reached for her belt while Tedi softly padded into the sitting room and towards the door to the corridor. He moved slowly despite the persistent knocking to give Natia time to prepare. When he heard her come into the room behind him, he reached for the door and unlocked it. He opened the door a crack and peeked into the torch-lit corridor. A Federation officer stood with one hand raised to knock once again. Tedi involuntarily tensed, but when his eyes recognized the man, he threw the door open wide, letting the torchlight flood the room. The colonel marched into the sitting room and tossed some garments on the couch. Tedi promptly closed the door and locked it before lighting a lantern.
“It is the middle of the night,” complained Natia. “What is this all about?”
“The uniform should be a decent fit for Tedi,” stated Garth. “The black cloak is for you.”
“Captain?” Tedi balked humorously as he leaned his staff up against the couch and examined the Federation uniform that Garth had thrown on the couch. “I don’t get to be a colonel like you?”
“That is Colonel Belasko to you, Captain,” smiled Garth. “Get dressed quickly. We have leagues to go, and I want to be out of the city before dawn.”
“It doesn’t take that long for us to get dressed,” frowned Natia. “What aren’t you telling us?”
“We need six horses,” Garth replied. “I require a gypsy to procure them. Make sure that the horses won’t be missed before morning.”
Natia grinned broadly as she snatched the black cloak from the couch and disappeared into the bedroom. Tedi pulled on the uniform while Garth nodded with satisfaction.
“Why six horses?” asked Tedi as Button landed on his shoulder and stared at the pocket of the uniform. “And why the uniforms? Shouldn’t we wait until we are outside the city to put them on?”
“We need to portray soldiers for this mission,” explained Garth, “and we would never get the horses out of the city unless we were soldiers. It is simpler to don our disguises now.”
“And the six extra horses?” Natia asked as she returned to the sitting room.
Garth examined Natia’s disguise. He reached out and pulled her hood further forward to hide her soft features. “Some of Juggler’s men are going with us. Bring the horses to the center of the slums near the healing shop. We will meet you there. Take Button with you just in case.”
Natia nodded and quietly left the suite, the fairy leaping from Tedi’s shoulder and darting out the door with her. Tedi frowned with concern.
“Just putting her in a black cloak will not give her magical powers. What are you up to?”
“She will not need to perform magic,” answered Garth. “She is to play a part just like the rest of us.”
“And what are Federation soldiers and a black-cloak needed for?”
“To steal the king’s crown,” grinned Garth. “I will explain along the way.”
* * * *
General Forshire waited impatiently as he stared at Sergeant Nekra and Morro on the rocks ahead. Eventually his patience wore thin. With a signal to the rest of his men to stay where they were, he mounted his horse and rode forward. Morro and Nekra looked up as he approached.
“I am sorry, General,” stated the sergeant. “Neither of us can follow tracks across bare rock. I am afraid that we have lost them.”
Clint remained mounted as his eyes swept over the rocky terrain. The sun was already touching the peaks of the nearby Barrier, and dusk would soon be upon them. He sighed with frustration and nodded.
“Have the men set up camp where they stand, Sergeant.”
Sergeant Nekra saluted and retreated towards the small group of Federation soldiers that waited in one of the few stands of trees in the area.
“Do not be hard on him, Clint,” Morro said softly. “He is a fairly good tracker for a city boy. The truth is, I am not much better than him. I have spent far too long away from my people.”
“I understand,” Clint replied tersely.
“Do you?” frowned the elven thief. “We have spent days tracking the kidnappers and most of the way was difficult. Those men took great pains to hide their tracks. We are lucky to have followed them this far.”
“Has the track been consistent?” asked Clint.
“Far from it. They weaved all over the place, taking advantage of every stream and riverbed they could find. Wherever there were patches of rocks, they used them to change course. The men that we are following are professionals, and they don’t want to be followed.”
“Anyone can be tracked,” Clint replied distractedly as he stared at a gully far off to the north.
The general’s unicorn suddenly turned towards the north and walked away. Morro quickly mounted his own unicorn and followed. When they reached the gully, the light was beginning to fade. Clint slid off the unicorn and moved forward on foot. He knelt and examined the ground, nodding with understanding. He rose to his feet and returned to his unicorn.
“We start tracking from here tomorrow,” declared the general.
“How did you know where to look?” asked Morro.
“Rangers are taught to avoid leaving tracks,” explained Clint. “Once you know how not to leave tracks, you also know how to find them. The next time you lose their trail, stop and think where you would go next if it were you trying to make it hard for the tracker. More often than not, that is where the track picks up.”
Clint mounted his unicorn, but he did not turn around and head back to camp. He rode out of the gully to the north where a stand of trees stood nearby. He halted again at the edge of the woods and dismounted. Morro watched curiously as the Ranger walked into the woods and knelt once again. He also dismounted and joined his friend.
“What are you looking at now?”
“A Federation soldier, or soldiers, spent some time here not long ago,” Clint answered softly. “I think it was a sentry of some kind.”
“I can see the signs of someone having been here,” frowned Morro, “but how could you possibly know that it was a Federation soldier?”
Clint rose and nodded upward. “Unless I am mistaken, that piece of torn cloth up there is part of a uniform. Why don’t you go up and retrieve it?”
Morro’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he stared at the small piece of cloth hanging from a limb. He scrambled up the tree and grabbed the cloth. He returned to the ground and handed the scrap to the Ranger.
“You do not miss much,” Morro said in awe. “Are you suggesting that the kidnappers were soldiers?”
“I don’t know,” answered Clint. “Someone spent some time here watching the barrens. It might have been someone trying to detect a tracker following the kidnappers to waylay him, but it could also have been someone else not connected with the attack.”
Clint stuck his finger in his pocket and woke up his fairy.
“Reporting for duty, General,” chirped Peanut. “Have I a mission?”
“A secret mission,” smiled Clint, “one we have discussed before. I think it is time to find the remnants of A Corps. If you cannot find them tonight, return by dawn. Start your search to the north.”
“Consider them found,” the fairy replied, his tiny chest bulging proudly. “Shall I have them report for duty?”
“Just Colonel Hardi. The others can remain hidden.”
The fairy leaped into the darkening sky and disappeared.
“Colonel Hardi?” asked Morro. “Was he the one in command of getting the elven children out of Despair?”
“The same,” nodded Clint. “I told him to take his men into the hills and hide until I called for them. At the time I feared that Kyrga would saturate the forests searching for the elves, but that never happened. Once t
hey found Elfwoods deserted, the search ended.”
“And you think that scrap of cloth might be from one of your own men?”
“It is possible.” Clint nodded. “Colonel Hardi would make use of such a vantage point to see if anyone was searching nearby. Let’s return to camp. We will know by morning.”
* * * *
Peanut caught a hint of wood smoke and lazily banked to his left. Even though there was enough moonlight to give the forest a ghostly cast, the fairy could not see the smoke, but the smell grew constantly stronger. Rising out of the trees was a hill of rock, and the fairy headed straight for it. Only when he was hovering directly over the small opening could he see the gray tendrils drifting skyward. Peanut started circling the hill, dropping in elevation with each spiraling circuit. He eventually found a small opening, cleverly hidden behind a thicket. The fairy darted into the opening, keeping well away from the small fire burning in the center of the large chamber. He recognized the men as members of the A Corps, but the colonel was not among the cave dwellers. He snuck out of the cave and continued his search. Two hours and two caves later, the fairy found Colonel Hardi. As he hid in the darkness, he thought about ways to deliver his message without revealing himself.
Before long, the soldiers started drifting off to sleep, including the colonel. Ignoring the outside sentries, the fairy started moving around the cave, casting his sleep spell on the soldiers to ensure that they did not wake up. When everyone was asleep, Peanut daringly dove at the colonel and tugged on his ear. Colonel Hardi’s hand reflexively swatted at his ear, nearly striking the fairy. Peanut darted away, grimacing with frustration. He was tempted to jump on the colonel’s nose, but he could not afford to be seen, and he wasn’t about to get swatted off the man’s ear. Peanut hovered over his target, his tiny eyes gazing down at the slumbering giant. Suddenly, his eyes twinkled and a devilish smile split his face.
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