Heirs of the Enemy

by Richard S. Tuttle

  For several minutes, a blanket of silence covered the room. Prince Samuel stared out the window, but his eyes were not focused on anything in particular. He reran Wylan’s words through his head trying to get a firm grasp of what was going on. Finally, he sighed loudly and Wylan rose to his feet.

  “You have much to think about,” the Knight of Alcea said softly. “I will leave you in peace so that you are not disturbed. If you want something to eat, you merely need to ring for it.”

  Prince Samuel did not reply as Wylan rose and made his way out of the suite. Wylan closed the door and moved along the corridor to Sidney’s suite. He knocked softly and the merchant opened the door and ushered him in.

  “How is Prince Samuel doing?” Sidney asked as he closed the door.

  “He is confused still,” Wylan replied as he and Sidney crossed the room and sat at the table with Queen Romani.

  “And why wouldn’t he be confused?” the queen asked sympathetically. “You are asking a lot from that young man.”

  “And the others,” agreed the merchant.

  Wylan nodded and looked at Sidney. “Were you able to get a hold of Edmond?”

  “Pixy just returned.” The merchant nodded. “I had expected Edmond to already be in Zinbar, but they hit heavy snows on the Zinbar Trail. The roads are impassable. He has had to abandon his wagons. He and his men are now trying to make it to Zinbar to seek refuge from the storm.”

  “He abandoned his cargo?” asked Wylan.

  “He had no cargo,” answered Sidney. “He dropped off a load in Olansk and was going to Zinbar to get a shipment for Giza. Most of the river is frozen so the normal ship traffic is nonexistent.”

  “If he manages to get Prince Bultar to agree to come here,” frowned Wylan, “how will he get him here?”

  “That is a good question,” replied the merchant. “I was assuming that they would ride to Ur and catch the monthly boat, but that is a foolish thought. I have remained inside for so long that I forget about the weather outside. I cannot remember the last time I had to abandon wagons in a snowstorm.”

  “Maybe I should go to Zinbar,” suggested the Knight of Alcea. “I can take some unicorns with me and get the prince here through Tarashin. Does Edmond know about the dwarves?”

  “He does not,” answered Sidney. “There has been no reason to give him such knowledge, but he would hold the secret close enough. I would not, however, let Prince Bultar in on it. The Candanarans are a moldable people. They will not actively get involved in the politics of the continent. They will merely side with whoever is in power. That is how they have always gotten along before, and I suspect that is how they plan to get along in the future.”

  “Perhaps it is not necessary to include Candanar in our plan then,” mused the Knight of Alcea.

  “Include them,” urged Queen Romani. “Candanar will side with the Federation until the Federation is no longer the dominant power. While they have no great army, they have enough troops at arms to be a thorn in our side, especially if they are to the rear of our army marching on Aerta. Bring Prince Bultar here.”

  “I agree,” added Sidney. “Candanar controls the approaches to both passes through the Barrier. Take some unicorns and meet Edmond in Zinbar. I will look in on Prince Samuel for you.”

  * * * *

  The winds howled through the streets of Tagaret, blowing the snow into huge drifts that blocked the streets and alleyways. At the western gates of the city, a Red Sword sergeant stood in the tower with a scarf wrapped around his face, leaving only a slit for his eyes. He stared into the blinding blizzard and watched as the wind swept towards him. Like waves upon an ocean, the wind was blowing the drifts across the open fields towards the gates.

  “Close the gates” he shouted.

  “If we close them,” came a shouted reply, “we may not be able to open them again.”

  And if they are left open, mused the sergeant, they would not be able to be closed. It was a rough call and one he was not prepared to make.

  “Close the gates,” he shouted again, “but prop one open a bit so we can get outside. And send someone to inform General Gregor. I need to know how the general wants the gates left.”

  The soldiers scrambled to obey the order. One man was chosen to report to the general, and he took off running, swerving to avoid the largest drifts and leaping over the smaller ones. When he reached the gates in the next wall, the situation was not much better. They also had chosen to prop one door open, and the soldier had to climb over a drift to get through the gates. Once through those gates, the situation changed a bit. The soldier found that he could use the buildings to block the wind. He took shelter for a moment in the lee of one building to catch his breath and then took off running again. While the buildings protected the soldier from the worst of the winds, he still had to cross a lot of streets to reach the Royal Palace, and each street crossing was akin to a howling wind tunnel. More than once the soldier was lifted off his feet and tossed into a snowdrift, but each time he rose and pushed on towards the palace. By the time he passed through the gates of the Royal Palace, the soldier was exhausted and nearly frozen. A Red Sword sergeant rushed to the gates to learn what the problem was. The runner reported the situation and then collapsed. The sergeant began shouting orders. Three Red Swords raced from the barracks to answer the sergeant’s call.

  “Two of you get this man to the infirmary,” shouted the sergeant as he peered through the snowy sky towards the city streets. Unsure if he had seen another soldier making his way towards the palace, the sergeant turned to the third Red Sword who had reported from the barracks. “You get word to General Gregor that the gates need to be left either open or closed. Return with the answer as fast as you can.”

  Lloyd Becker nodded and raced towards the palace. He entered the palace and made his way through the corridors to the office of General Gregor. When he arrived there, a door guard stopped him.

  “I need to speak to the general immediately,” announced Lloyd Becker.

  “He has not arrived at the palace yet today,” answered the guard as he looked at the snow covering Becker’s uniform, “and from the looks of you, I can see why he is late.”

  “His orders are required for the city gates,” replied Lloyd Becker. “The guards need to know if they should be closed or not.”

  “I can’t help you,” replied the guard. “Perhaps you should see the king.”

  Becker smiled and nodded. He turned and walked away, feeling excited that his chance had finally arrived. As a new Red Sword, he was not permitted in the residential section of the palace, and the demonkin had been waiting for an excuse to wander those halls. The blizzard provided the excuse he had been waiting for. Becker climbed the stairs and headed for the king’s study. When he reached the residential section, two Red Swords stopped him.

  “You are not authorized in this area. Are you lost?”

  “No,” answered Lloyd. “I am supposed to be getting a decision on the city gates from General Gregor, but he has not arrived at the palace today. This blizzard is the worst we have ever had. The city gates will soon be stuck for days, and guards need to know whether they should be left open or closed. I need to see the king.”

  The guards hesitated.

  “Look,” Lloyd continued, “I don’t personally care about the gates. I am assigned to the palace grounds, but someone has to make the decision. If you will not allow me to see the king, at least carry the word to him yourself. With any luck, the king will give you the order to report to the city gates with the answer.”

  The guards looked at the snow covering Lloyd’s uniform and the puddle forming around his feet. They looked at each questioningly. Eventually, one of the guards spoke to the other.

  “You escort him to the study. He will leave his sword here with me.”

  The other guard nodded as Lloyd drew his sword and placed it on the floor. The chosen guard escorted Lloyd through the residential section to the king’s study. Two more Red Sword gua
rds stood outside the door.

  “Lloyd has a request for the king,” stated the escort. “It seems the gates are threatened by the blizzard, and General Gregor is not in the palace. Is the king in?”

  One of the door guards nodded and knocked on the door. The king’s voice called permission to enter, and the guard opened the door for Lloyd. The demonkin smiled broadly as he walked past the guards and into the study. He stood for a moment, relishing his triumph as he stared at the king sitting at his desk. Bringing both of his arms up before him, the demonkin unleashed a spell of massive power. An invisible force rushed across the room and smashed into the king and the desk. Wooden splinters erupted in a hazy mist and the wall behind the desk shattered and collapsed in a waterfall of cracked stones. As the haze drifted downward, Lloyd could see clear into the next room. There was no sign of the king or his desk. Everything had been obliterated.

  The Red Swords struck with a vengeance. With screams of rage, they drew their swords and attacked. The demonkin felt the swords trying to puncture his skin. He laughed and turned to face the guards. As their swords struck him harmlessly, Lloyd reached out and grabbed one of the Red Swords by the throat. He lifted the man off his feet and shook him like a rag doll, tossing the useless body to the floor. The other two Red Swords backed up and shouted for help. Lloyd grinned evilly. He slowly stepped towards the Red Swords, batting their swords aside. As he reached for his next victim, the demonkin halted, his face suddenly turning from glee to confusion. Lloyd looked down at his chest and the sword blade extending out of it. He tried to turn around and see his attacker, but the sword impaled him so completely that he could not turn. As life sped from his body, the demonkin sighed and collapsed to the ground.

  “Blessed sword!” exclaimed one of the Red Swords. “How is this possible? I just saw you die.”

  King Arik pulled the Sword of Heavens out of the demonkin’s back. “How did this man get in here?”

  Red Swords came streaming along the corridor from both directions. They slid to a halt, swords drawn.

  “The city gates are endangered,” reported one of the door guards. “Lloyd was supposedly seeking an order as to whether they should be left open or closed.”

  Queen Tanya walked up behind King Arik and looked at the demonkin. “Close the gates. Send a runner to give the order for the gates and another to gather General Gregor. He is needed in the palace immediately.”

  One of the Red Swords took charge and started shouting orders. Soldiers were posted in the room next to the king’s study where the wall had been destroyed, but the king and queen decided to go elsewhere. They were escorted to the Council Chamber to await the king’s advisors. While they waited, Tanya tried to calm the king.

  “I should have been dead,” Arik remarked nervously. “If you had not been having fun with your illusions again, I would have been blown into little pieces. Did you see what his spell did to my desk?”

  “You still wear the Breastplate of Alcea,” stated the queen.

  “The breastplate does not protect my arms and legs,” the king said softly, “nor my head. There was nothing left of my desk and little left of the wall behind it. It was only luck that saved me this time.”

  “It is troubling that a demonkin can portray a Red Sword,” conceded Queen Tanya, “but you survived. I think the gods are watching over you.”

  “I survived this time,” the king stated angrily as he pushed his nervousness away, “but one of the Red Swords did not. We have to put a stop to these assassination attempts.”

  Prince Oscar was entering the room as the king spoke. He frowned and halted in the doorway. “And how are you going to do that?” he asked.

  “Close the door, Prince Oscar,” Tanya said softly as she stared at Arik.

  Prince Oscar closed the door and took a seat at the table. He looked at his son and frowned. “You cannot run away from your problems, Arik.”

  “I cannot afford to stay where I am expected to be,” retorted the king. “Every time they try to assassinate me, good people die. Those Red Swords could not even hurt that demonkin. They were willing to give their lives to stall his escape. I am tired of people dying to protect me.”

  “The Red Swords have sworn their lives to protect you,” countered the prince. “It is their reason for living. Do not take that away from them.”

  “Maybe I should just keep you shielded at all times,” suggested the queen.

  “You cannot shield me all the time,” sighed the king. “We should just go into hiding until we find the last of Alutar’s Claws.”

  “We do not know their powers,” stated Queen Tanya. “They may have magical means of finding you. We just don’t know.”

  “Can we get another mage to help with the shielding?” asked Prince Oscar.

  “I think that is the real solution,” agreed Tanya. “We need to make sure that Arik is protected and then purposely trick the last Claw of Alutar into attacking.”

  Chapter 39

  Badgers

  Morro sat on the tree limb staring up at the mountain before him. It was a tedious task waiting for the Badgers to appear on the winding trail coming down the mountain, but Garth’s message had indicated that they might move soon. Clint and the elf had taken turns keeping a watch, but no one had appeared.

  “I think we are just wasting time,” he called down to Clint. “What made Garth think they would move the hostages?”

  “He let the Federation know that someone knows where they are,” Clint answered. “Unless they are ready to hold off the entire Federation army, they should be making plans to leave the Black Citadel.”

  “After Peanut’s description of the Black Citadel, I think they are planning to stay put. No army could successfully attack them there.”

  “You might be right,” mused Clint, “but I don’t think the two groups want to be known to be cooperating with each other. The black-cloaks are allies of the Federation, but the Badgers are not. They are paid assassins. King killers. I think the Black Citadel would lose some friends if it became known that they shared a lair. I suspect that Emperor Jaar would be none too pleased.”

  “As if he could do anything about it. Hey, that’s weird.”

  “What?” Clint asked curiously.

  “Some birds are flying down the mountain, but I have never seen birds fly like that before.”

  Clint dropped his sword and the stone he had been using to sharpen it. He leaped up and grabbed hold of a limb and pulled himself up. Scrambling as fast as he could, Clint climbed the tree until he was right below Morro. He peered through the branches and finally caught sight of the birds. Three large black birds were flying in formation down the side of the mountain, but they were zigzagging back and forth.

  “They look as if they are following the trail down the mountain,” commented Morro. “Do you suppose they have spotted a rabbit or something?”

  Clint immediately started descending as fast as he could. “Get out of the tree now! Do it!”

  Morro frowned in confusion, but he promptly obeyed Clint’s order. Clint hit the ground first and woke Peanut up.

  “If you are going to keep climbing up and down trees,” the fairy scowled, “I am going to sleep on a rock.”

  “Record this message,” Clint said to the fairy with a sense of urgency that caused the fairy to be quiet. “Put your fire out and get everyone inside the cave now! No one is to move until you hear from me again. Do not move!”

  “What do I do with the message?” asked the fairy.

  “Deliver it to every group of my men,” instructed Clint. “Do not let them detect you, but make sure that they get the message. Shout it from out of sight somehow, but deliver it with haste. There are magicians flying overhead looking for us. Go now!”

  The fairy offered no quip as he leaped into the air and sped off. Clint bent down and retrieved his sword and stone. He sheathed the sword and stowed the stone in his pack.

  “Magicians?” asked Morro as he hit the ground. “Do you
mean the birds?”

  “Those are no birds. They are magicians. Send Sparky to warn the unicorns and then hug a tree and remain motionless. They must not see us.”

  Morro woke Sparky and sent him on his way to warn the unicorns. Clint had already selected a tree that was well hidden from the air. He pressed his body close to the tree and merged with the shadows. Morro quickly followed his example. Sparky was the first fairy to return. Knowing that Morro was not familiar with magicians, he landed on Clint’s shoulder.

  “Should I spy on them?” the tiny man whispered in Clint’s ear.

  “You must not be seen,” answered Clint. “If you can hide on the underside of a branch or in a dark hollow of the bark, then do so, otherwise remain here. I would like to know when they are gone, but I will not risk detection. We will remain frozen until nightfall if necessary.”

  “I will be careful,” promised the fairy just before he leaped off Clint’s shoulder and disappeared.

  Despite the chill wind, Clint started sweating. The minutes dragged on as he remained motionless. He could see nothing without moving, and he had no intention of doing so. Instead, he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the forest. Half an hour passed and nothing happened. A little while later he felt a familiar weight on his shoulder.

  “Are you sleeping?” Peanut whispered.

  “No,” Clint whispered back. “Did all of the men get my message?”

  “Every group received the message,” assured the fairy. “It caused quite a stir in a few of the caves, but I checked them again on my way back. Everyone is well hidden. Are the birds gone?”

  “I don’t know. Sparky is trying to spy on them without being seen.”

  “Perhaps I should help him?”

  “No,” Clint said quickly. “One spy is enough. Remain still and quiet.”

  Two more hours passed before Sparky finally landed next to Peanut.

  “They have returned up the mountain,” he announced.

  “All of them?” asked Clint.