Heirs of the Enemy

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “I thought about that,” admitted Garth, “but I think Herinak is more appropriate. Prince Harold for example has never heard of Alcea. I think the shock of learning about it and the portals would be asking too much of him. Besides, it is of the most benefit to improve relations between the countries of Zara. Herinak is the right place for them to be, but security frightens me.”

  “As it should,” stated Queen Tanya. “The Federation has spies everywhere. Even Tagaret is not free of them. Can you control the situation there, King Wendal?”

  “We will try our best,” promised the Koroccan king. “I have to say that we Koroccans are typically a suspicious lot, and we have had some misgivings about what Garth has told us.” The king paused to glance at his son. “This trip has proved to me much more than the fact that portals work. Meeting both of you has shown me the character of Alceans. I will never doubt you again, Garth Shado.”

  Garth smiled and nodded his appreciation. “We should arrange periodic meetings like this in the future, but we still have a sleeping prince back in Herinak. Unless there is anything else…”

  “Where is Kalina?” asked Sigfrid.

  “She is up north,” answered Queen Tanya. “She is working on a special project to prepare for the spring invasion. Why do you ask?”

  “I am impressed with her skills,” answered the Koroccan mage. “I know some healing spells, but I got a good look at Prince Harold when we came through the portals. He has some kind of wasting disease. I have never seen anything like it, and I doubt my ability to cure it. I was hoping that she might help.”

  Tanya was tempted to return to Herinak with the group, but she knew that Arik would reject it, and rightly so. There was far too much to do to prepare for the war, and she could not leave Arik without magical protections. Suddenly, she smiled broadly.

  “Do elves offend you, Sigfrid?”

  “I am not easily offended,” smiled the sorcerer. “Why do you ask?”

  “I know an elf mage that might be able to help,” replied Queen Tanya. “Zalaharic is the best healing mage that I have ever known. I think even Kalina would bow to his expertise, and I think I can entice him to go to Herinak and help you. Would that be acceptable?”

  “Anyone who can heal Prince Harold would be acceptable,” answered Sigfrid. “I look forward to meeting this elf.”

  “He will need a few days to get there,” stated King Arik. “Although it was not unexpected, we are experiencing an early winter, and it has been rather brutal so far.”

  “Not unexpected?” echoed Baron Stikman. “What do you mean? This is the earliest winter we have on record.”

  King Arik looked to Garth for advice on how to proceed. Garth sighed heavily as he realized that he was about to strain his credibility once more.

  “King Arik personally asked the gods to intervene to stall the invasion,” Garth said. “The early winter is their solution, and it appears to be working.”

  Baron Stikman rose out of his seat, his face full of anger. King Wendal quickly reached out and touched his son.

  “Sit,” King Wendal commanded.

  The baron sat back down, but his face still showed his disbelief.

  “Forgive my son,” King Wendal said softly. “As I said, we are a culturally suspicious people. While I have to admit that I find it hard to believe that anyone can talk to the gods and gain their favor, you Alceans have been proven truthful time and again. We will accept your words in the spirit in which they were given.”

  “I do not blame you for your disbelief,” King Arik said. “I could not believe that I was actually talking to the gods the first time it happened, but I have come to accept it. If the baron feels more comfortable not believing, I will understand and not hold it against him.”

  While King Arik was speaking, Garth rose and moved towards the door and cracked it open. He whispered something to the Red Sword standing guard outside the door and then returned to his seat.

  “I appreciate your understanding, King Arik,” smiled King Wendal. “I do hope that we can meet again for a longer period of time. I would like to take this opportunity to invite you to Herinak Castle whenever you would like to visit.”

  “And I offer each of you an open invitation to visit Tagaret,” smiled King Arik as he rose. “Garth will escort you back to the Door.”

  Everyone rose and filed out the door. Garth led the way back to the hidden area where the Door was located. As he was unlocking the Door to Tarashin, a Red Sword came running into the room. He handed a wrapped package to Garth, and the Knight of Alcea nodded his thanks. The group passed through the Door to Tarashin and bade farewell to the dwarven king. The rest of the group continued back to Herinak. After Garth locked the Door, the group reassembled in Sidney’s sitting room. Garth slid the wrapped package towards Baron Stikman.

  “This is something else that I ask you to keep secret,” smiled Garth. “It is the Chronicles of the Sword of Heavens. It is a work commissioned by Prince Oscar, King Arik’s father, and it tells the tale of how King Arik rose from a poor fisherboy to become king of all of Alcea. I have read this book, and I will verify that the tale is true. I know because I was with King Arik every step of the way. My real name is Alexander Tork. I urge you to read that book. It will reveal the true nature of Alcea.”

  Chapter 28

  Blind Man’s Bluff

  Clint and Morro rode warily through the winding canyon at the base of the Barrier. The sting of the cold wind that persisted on the plain east of the Barrier did not penetrate the steep walls of the canyon, and as the sun rose higher in the sky, the air at the bottom of the canyon began to feel warm and comfortable. Clint was about to call for a meal break when he rounded a sharp bend in the canyon and saw the trail leading up the side of the mountain. He stopped and held his hand up to tell Morro to halt. Morro halted alongside the Federation general, and they both stared at the zigzagging trail before them.

  “So they are not hidden within this canyon after all,” Morro said softly.

  “Evidently not,” replied Clint. “I am not surprised. If I wanted a place where no one would bother me, I would not choose a canyon that anyone can ride into, even if it did resemble a maze.”

  “Do we go up?” asked the elven thief.

  Clint craned his neck to peer up at the path. It rose as far as he could see, and still there was no sign of a building above him. He tried to picture a nest of black-cloaks and badgers in a secret mountainous hideout, and he frowned with concern.

  “They must have people watching the trail,” Clint mused. “I certainly would if I were them.”

  “So we just turn around and leave?” frowned Morro.

  “I didn’t say that,” retorted Clint. “I am still looking for the best approach. If I had a team of Rangers with me, I would avoid the trail completely and scale the mountain, but that is not an option now.”

  “The unicorns can fly,” Morro pointed out.

  “We would reveal far too much to our enemies if we were seen on flying unicorns.”

  “What about the fairies?”

  “I would not send them into a nest of mages.” Clint shook his head. “Their secrecy must also be preserved.”

  Morro sighed with frustration. “Then we have no options.”

  Clint remained silent for a while as he continued to peer up at the mountain. Eventually, he also sighed.

  “We have three options,” Clint stated. “We have your hourglass, but I am not inclined to send you up there alone. It would take a great deal of luck for you to find a decent hiding spot every time the sands ran out. I am not sure that the knowledge that we would gain would be worth the risk.”

  “I tend to agree,” replied Morro, “but I will do it if you think we really need to know what is up there. What are the other options?”

  “We could just turnaround and leave. Certainly the two of us are not going to attack the Black Citadel and free the hostages alone, but I would like to have some idea of what is up there.”

&
nbsp; “And option three?”

  “We ascend the trail at night.”

  Morro looked up at the portion of the trail that he could see and swallowed hard. The zigzagging trail traveled up the side of the mountain for as far as he could see. It was not a particularly wide trail, and there appeared to be no leeway on the open side of it. One slip and horse and rider would plummet to the canyon floor. Morro lowered his eyes and gazed at Clint.

  “I am at your service. Whatever you decide, I will stand by your side.”

  “On that trail,” Clint chuckled, “I would prefer you before me or behind me. There will not be any room on either side of me.”

  Despite the tension, Morro laughed softly and nodded.

  “Let’s find a place to rest until nightfall,” decided Clint. “When we do go up, we will keep one of the fairies ahead of us at all times. They can switch off so that we do not place too much strain on either of them. If there are sentries on the trail, the fairies should be able to find them before we stumble into a trap.”

  Morro nodded in agreement, and they retreated from that area of the canyon and found an overhang to shelter under until dusk. Being on the east slope of the tall mountains, the ground darkened well before sunset. Long shadows shaded the canyon floor, and Clint decided that the lower portion of the trail was dark enough for them to begin their trek. They mounted their unicorns and Clint led the way back to the base of the trail. Peanut and Sparky were released to act as forward scouts. Sparky took the first shift and shot up the trail with enthusiasm for his mission. Peanut perched on Clint’s shoulder awaiting his turn.

  The trail narrowed as they rode higher up the side of the mountain. The change was not perceptible on any particular leg of the switchbacks, but after a while the difference was notable. Eventually, the trail was barely wide enough for a horse and rider. The switchbacks were so sharp that they had to stop almost completely for the unicorns to make the turns. After two hours of climbing, Clint called for a change in fairies. Peanut eagerly leaped off his shoulder and darted up the trail. Moments later, Sparky returned and lighted on Morro’s shoulder.

  “This is not as exciting as I thought it would be,” complained Sparky. “Each leg of the trail is just like the last. It is boring.”

  “It might be boring for one who can fly,” retorted Morro, “but I can assure you that it is not boring for me. I am glad that it is too dark out now to see how high we are.”

  “Quiet,” Clint said softly as his unicorn slowed to make a turn at one of the switchbacks.

  Morro and Sparky immediately quit their banter, returning to the stony silence of the mountains. Two switchbacks later, Clint heard a soft noise. At first he could not make sense of it, but it grew constantly louder. He concentrated on the sound, thinking it resembled some sort of whimper, but he still could not make any sense of it. Suddenly, the sound became loud and clear.

  “Stop! Stop now!”

  The unicorns immediately halted, not requiring any instructions from their riders.

  “Peanut?” Clint said softly. “Is that you? Where are you?”

  “About two strides in front of your unicorn’s hooves,” replied the fairy. “If they had not stopped they would have crushed me.”

  “What happened?” asked Morro.

  “Why don’t you ask Sparky?” retorted Peanut. “He is the one who likes to play practical jokes. Tell him that I am not laughing at this one.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” protested Sparky. “Why am I always getting blamed?”

  “I wonder why?” Morro quipped sarcastically.

  “Quiet,” Clint ordered sternly. He waited for total quiet before beginning. “Tell me what happened Peanut.”

  “I flew into a wall. I think I damaged one of my wings.”

  Clint peered at the trail ahead. While it was quite dark, there was enough starlight to see the next switchback, which was beyond a couple of strides. He frowned in confusion.

  “Sparky,” ordered Clint, “find Peanut and levitate him to my shoulder.”

  Clint heard Sparky’s tiny wings flutter past his ear. Even with the starlight, he could not see either fairy.

  “Ouch!” came a soft cry. “There is something blocking the trail, but it is invisible. I can see right through it.”

  “You are right above me,” said Peanut.

  “Alright, I see you now. Hold on.”

  After a few moments of silence, Clint felt a tug on his ear. He reached up and gently cupped Peanut in his hand. “Can I put you in my pocket without further damaging your wing?”

  “I think so,” answered Peanut. “It is not as bad as I thought. I guess I was laying on it. I can move it some now.”

  Clint nodded and carefully slid the fairy into his pocket.

  “I am going to dismount on the mountain side,” Clint announced. “No one move.”

  Clint’s unicorn lowered his head and Clint swung his leg over. He reached out and felt the side of the mountain, searching for handholds. Once he found a pair that were secure, he edged his feet towards the rock wall in search of footholds. He found one and eased his body off the unicorn. Slowly, he moved sideways along the rock wall until there was clear path below his feet. He climbed down to the trail. With one finger stretched out before him, he slowly walked forward. When his finger hit a solid object, he halted and quickly pulled his hand back.

  “Sparky, come to me. Do not go beyond me.”

  Morro’s fairy immediately complied and landed on Clint’s shoulder. Clint reached up and cupped the fairy. Squatting carefully, he placed the fairy at his feet.

  “I want a very dim fairy lantern. Make it as dim as you can. If I need more light, I will ask for it.”

  A tiny glow suddenly appeared on the trail. It was not very bright, but it showed Clint what he wanted to see. A line of flying-insect bodies stretched across the trail.

  “On my shoulder, Sparky,” Clint commanded as he rose erect. “There is an invisible mage shield across the trail. I suspect that it is alarmed, but not for small things. Many bugs have already collided with it. I can’t imagine any mage wanting to check each and every insect that hits his shield, but if a horse and rider slammed into it, we would have unfriendly company in a short while.”

  “If they didn’t just tumble off the trail,” added Morro. “What do we do now?”

  “I want to see how far it extends,” answered Clint. “Hang on tight, Sparky.”

  The fairy gripped Clint’s collar tightly. The Ranger turned and faced the wall, his hands once more searching for handholds. Slowly he climbed up the side of the mountain, pausing every foot to stick a finger out and test the shield. When he had determined the extent of the shield, he climbed back down.

  “The black-cloaks are not into wasting any energy. The shield only extends a short ways.”

  “Wonderful,” Morro quipped sarcastically. “What do we do now? We can’t go forward, and I doubt that even unicorns can back down this trail. There is not enough space for them to turn around.”

  “We improvise,” answered Clint. “The unicorns can fly, but it will be safer for all of us if we are not on their backs when they depart this trail. They are going to have to hug the side of the mountain until they can find a place to land facing the right direction. I think several of the switchbacks would offer sufficient landing spaces. Once they are gone, you and I will walk down the trail until we reach them.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” frowned Morro, “But I am not even sure that I can dismount. There is no room to stand alongside my unicorn.”

  “We will deal with that in a minute,” Clint said before focusing on his unicorn.

  Aeron, you will go first. Just glide down the side of the mountain until you find a safe landing spot. If you do not find a good one, land in the canyon and wait for us. Try to stay as close to the mountain as you can. I am not sure how much they can see from up there.

  The switchbacks will work, Clint. I will see you soon.

  Clint’s unic
orn stepped towards the edge and jumped. Clint tried to watch, but he never saw the unicorn’s wings extend. A shiver of worry rushed through his body, but he pushed it out of his mind and turned to face Morro’s unicorn.

  “Sparky, you need to levitate Morro off of Minitari. Bring him forward to me.”

  The fairy leaped from Clint’s shoulder and hovered over his partner. Morro slowly rose. Sparky moved him forward and set him down next to Clint.

  It is your turn, Minitari. May the gods be with you.

  And with you, brothers. See you lower down.

  The unicorn took one step and leaped off the mountain trail.

  “Lead us down, Morro. This night’s excursion is over.”

  * * * *

  Garth Shado was waiting in Tarashin when the Door to Alcea opened. He smiled broadly when Zalaharic stepped through the Door.

  “You made good time,” Garth welcomed the elven healer. “I thought I might have many days to wait.”

  “King Arik has placed your project at a high priority,” smiled the elf.

  “He truly believes that it will make a difference,” said Wylan as he stepped through the Door.

  “Wylan,” grinned Garth. “What are you doing here? You certainly are no healer.”

  “King Arik is being kept well informed of your progress here. I have been sent to help with Prince Samuel.”

  Garth shook his head in confusion as Wylan closed the Door.

  “Join me while I get Zalaharic settled,” Garth said. “Then we will sit down and talk about this.”

  Wylan nodded wordlessly, and Garth locked the Door to Alcea and unlocked the Door to Herinak. The three Alceans stepped into Sidney Mercado’s suite. In the adjoining room, Sidney and Sigfrid were sitting and talking. Garth led his companions into the sitting room and introduced them. Zalaharic and Sigfrid immediately became engrossed in a discussion about Prince Harold’s health. As the two healers left the room, Sidney waved to the empty chairs and offered refreshments. Sidney stared at the patches covering Wylan’s eyes and shook his head at the thought of a blind man being of use. Garth pulled a chair out for Wylan and guided him into it before sitting next to him.