Heirs of the Enemy

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “I do not blame you, Morro,” Clint responded. “You did exactly what I asked you to do. I am appreciative, but it does complicate my mission. I cannot possibly return them to Despair now. They would reveal too much just by reporting that they were in Herinak. I cannot afford for the emperor or anyone else to know that we have such capabilities.”

  The door to the suite opened and Queen Romani walked in. She crossed the room and silently sat down.

  “What if we take them back before they wake up?” asked the elf.

  “The women are already awake,” reported the Vinaforan queen. “Janay knows that we are in the far north. She is already asking how that is possible.”

  “That settles that,” frowned Morro. “I am sorry.”

  “Stop saying that,” scowled Clint. “You did what I asked. Our time is better spent trying to figure a way around the situation.”

  “The Badgers are the only people who know that the women are no longer with their original captors,” interjected the sergeant. “Will they be anxious to admit that they lost them?”

  “They are more likely to try to retrieve them,” suggested Sidney. “They have a reputation to uphold. As far as I know, the Badgers have never suffered a defeat like the one you described.”

  “The Badgers never met the A Corps before,” grinned the sergeant.

  “I would not boast of our performance,” frowned Clint. “We lost a lot of good men in the end.”

  “The women have to stay here until the invasion,” said Queen Romani. “I do not think that point is debatable.”

  “She is right,” agreed Sidney. “Whatever games you play with Emperor Jaar, you can’t return his family right now.”

  “Agreed.” Clint sighed in resignation. “Perhaps we should move on to other things, but before we do, I would like to ask you a favor, Queen Romani. Will you try to befriend Janay and find out where her son is? She will claim that he is dead, but I do not believe her. Try bringing up the subject during innocent conversation regarding relatives or family gatherings.”

  “I will try,” promised the queen, “but do not expect an answer out of her. The emperor’s family has not lived a palace life. She has been sequestered ever since Jaar assumed the throne. There will have been no family gatherings or relatives visiting. She will hold her secret very close.”

  “You know,” mused Morro, “even if Janay does understand where she is, she does not know that you are responsible for her being here. You sent her to safety on your horse. The last thing she would have remembered is falling asleep alone with her daughters. Can’t you salvage this by telling the emperor that you have them safe somewhere without telling him where?”

  “What would Jaar do if he knew that his family was safe?” asked Sidney. “Would he abandon his rush to war?”

  “He would demand that they be returned,” answered Clint. “His orders to me were to march into the palace and he would handle the rest.”

  “Yet he does not know who he can trust,” Morro pointed out. “His plan sounds rather poorly thought out to me. Whoever is above Kyrga might want the family for leverage, but one thing is certain. Kyrga would die if Jaar got his family back. The Grand General would therefore kill Jaar’s family as soon as he saw them. It is his only way to stay alive.”

  “I agree,” Clint said. “That pretty much determines my path from here. Morro, you and I have to return to Despair. I need to speak to the emperor again.”

  “What about the sergeant?” Morro asked as he nodded at Treman.

  Clint grinned broadly. “Sergeant? I don’t see any sergeants. Treman, you are about to become a colonel in A Corps. I have a special mission in mind for you.”

  “I am extremely grateful, General. What am I to do?”

  “You are going to be the new Commanding Officer of the Olansk garrison. The men there are undisciplined and disorganized. You are going to change that.”

  “That is a tall task for a prisoner, General.”

  “I have faith in you, Treman. Besides,” Clint added with a grin, “Olansk is where the Federation sends their misfits. You should feel right at home there. I will spend the next day or two bringing you up to speed with what we are trying to accomplish. When I feel that you are ready, Morro and I will accompany you to your new post. Morro will introduce you to Cracker and the thieves, and I will introduce you to Captain Takir, who you will be replacing.”

  “What is my goal?” asked the colonel.

  “When the war comes, you will be responsible for holding Olansk. That means making your men more loyal to you than to the Federation. I do not expect any major battles to occur in Olansk, but its location is extremely important. Your garrison will have to halt any Federation armies from passing through the city. I will explain exactly how you are going to accomplish that later. Do you accept the challenge?”

  “If you have faith that I can do it,” answered the colonel, “then I heartily accept.”

  “Is there enough manpower in Olansk to hold off an army?” frowned Morro.

  “There will be,” answered Clint. “The thieves will help, and I will try to feed recruits in slowly so that Treman can condition them properly. I think there is a good chance of success.”

  “That will delay your trip to Despair,” interjected Sidney.

  “Not by much,” replied Clint. “It will only take a few days, I should not be too quick to return to Despair. If any of the Badgers did see me, I don’t want them to start thinking about magical means of transportation. Emperor Jaar will have to wait a few days.”

  Chapter 42

  Mystic

  The blind man made his way along the corridor of the Gateway Lodge in Zinbar, his staff tapping a consistent rhythm on the tiled floor. Halfway along the corridor, the man stopped, his staff rising up as he turned. The staff tapped on the door with a solid-sounding knock. A young merchant opened the door and curiously peered at the blind man.

  “You have the wrong room,” stated the merchant.

  “Edmond Mercado?” asked the blind man.

  “That is me,” frowned Edmond. “Do I know you?”

  The blind man smiled broadly. “Your father asked me to pay a call when I arrived in the city. May I come in?”

  Edmond immediately grew suspicious and his hand moved slowly towards the knife on his belt. He tried to close the door, but the blind man deftly stuck his staff in the opening and pushed his way into the room. Edmond immediately drew his knife, extending it before him as he turned towards the stranger. The blind man’s staff rose swiftly, knocking the knife from Edmond’s hand.

  “Close the door so we can talk privately,” the blind man said softly as he turned and walked further into the sitting room.

  Edmond stared incredulously at the blind man as he clenched his fist to take the sting out of his fingers. He closed the door and bent over to pick up his knife.

  “A blind man could not have struck me as you did,” Edmond said accusingly. “Why don’t you drop the act and tell me who you are and what you want?”

  “My hearing is quite acute,” smiled the blind man as his hands reached out searchingly for something to sit on. “I heard you pull the knife from its sheath. It did not take much imagination to know where it would be. Were you going to kill me?”

  “I still might,” scowled Edmond, “if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”

  “I am a Knight of Alcea,” smiled the blind man as he carefully sat down on a chair. “You can call me Wylan.”

  Edmond’s mouth fell open as he stared disbelievingly at Wylan. Sidney had said that he was taking Wylan’s place, but he had failed to mention anything about the Alcean being blind.

  “Prove to me who you are,” demanded Edmond.

  Wylan nodded with understanding. He stuck his finger in his pocket and woke up his fairy. Twerp stuck his head out of the pocket and then leaped to Wylan’s shoulder.

  “Greetings, Edmond,” chirped the fairy. “Where are we?”

  “The Gateway Lodge
in Zinbar,” Edmond replied as he sheathed his knife and looked at Wylan. “Why didn’t my father tell me that you were blind?”

  “You were to take my place here,” shrugged Wylan. “What significance would it have had if we were not to meet?”

  “None I suppose,” frowned Edmond, “but then why are you here now?”

  “Because the plan of your traveling with the prince through Ur is no longer practical. The prince will have to be moved to Herinak in a more unconventional manner. I brought three unicorns with me.”

  “Unicorns?” frowned the merchant. “I do not think that is wise.”

  “Why not? I thought you were close friends with the prince.”

  “Not that close,” answered Edmond. “I am a close enough friend to gain admittance to the Royal Palace and a private interview with the prince. I might even be able to get the prince to travel with me, but I would never reveal a secret to him. I had not even planned to tell Prince Bultar what our destination was. I had planned to talk him into accompanying me back to our estate in Ur. Once there, I would find some excuse to get him to board the monthly boat to Zarocca.”

  “I am confused,” admitted the Knight of Alcea. “Prince Bultar would not willingly go to Herinak?”

  “Candanar is a part of the Federation. The horse countries are enemies of the Federation. King Bartomir would never permit his heir to be taken there.” Edmond sighed and sat down next to Wylan. “We have to trick him somehow.”

  Wylan nodded. “Have you spoken to the prince yet?”

  “I just arrived in the city earlier today. I planned to rest for the remainder of the day and approach him tomorrow. With this bad turn of the weather, I doubt we will get him to Herinak before spring.”

  “Garth wants him there soon,” retorted Wylan. “He wants all of the heirs to winter in Herinak so that they no longer think of the horse countries as enemies. Arriving in spring would not be acceptable.”

  “So that is why you have arrived with unicorns,” Edmond sighed knowingly. “Our only option then is to kidnap the prince.”

  “I would like to avoid that if possible. The prince would likely resent being kidnapped, even if it was for his own good. I want him in a frame of mind that makes him thankful to be in Herinak.”

  Edmond shook his head. “I don’t know how we can accomplish that. What could possibly make him glad to be in the enemy’s camp?”

  “That fact that he is still alive,” Wylan smiled thinly. “I think I have an idea.”

  * * * *

  Cracker paused in the hallway and nervously looked in both directions before softly knocking on the door. Morro quickly answered the door of his suite in the Aranak Dunes Inn in Olansk. Cracker swiftly slid into the room, and Morro closed the door.

  “Why the summons to come here?” Cracker asked softly. “You know your way around underground.”

  “Come and sit down,” Morro smiled thinly. “I will explain everything.”

  Morro crossed the room and sat on the couch, waving his hand towards one of the empty chairs. Cracker’s eyes examined the sitting room thoroughly before taking a seat.

  “How is business?” Morro asked pleasantly.

  “It’s bad,” frowned Cracker. “Ever since the A Corps decided to dally here, we barely make enough to feed ourselves. I wish I could find a way to get them to move on.”

  “I can accomplish that for you,” smiled the elven thief, “but it comes at a price. Are you interested?”

  Cracker’s brow creased heavily as he stared at the elf with disbelief. “You can get the army to leave Olansk? Why don’t I believe you?”

  “Because you have no faith or vision,” answered Morro. “You are good at what you do, Cracker, but these times are ending soon. A new era in the history of Zara is just around the corner, and I can make you part of it, or you can die with the old era. The choice is yours.”

  “Your words make no sense to me, Morro. What are you talking about?”

  “Perhaps I am not the best person to explain it,” Morro replied casually as he rose and walked to the door to the office.

  Morro opened the door and moved away from it. Cracker tensed as he warily eyed the door, but Morro’s movements away from it distracted him. When he glanced back at the open door, a Federation general filled it. Cracker leaped to his feet, a knife instantly filling his hand.

  “That would be a foolish mistake,” Morro said from the area of the front door. “You would never leave here alive.”

  Cracker glanced from the general to the elf and backed away from both of them. As he backed towards the bedroom, he suddenly bumped into something. A hand reached around him and grasped his wrist of the hand holding the knife.

  “Let it fall,” a voice behind him said menacingly.

  Cracker let the knife drop from his hand. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a colonel behind him. His eyes focused on Morro and lips curled down in anger.

  “I will find a way to repay you, Morro,” spat the thief.

  “Sit down,” ordered the general. “I have promised Morro that you would have safe passage if he got you here to talk. He has not betrayed you.”

  The colonel’s hand released his wrist, and Cracker hesitantly moved towards a chair. “His invitation certainly wasn’t an honest one. What does a general want with me?” he asked as he sat down.

  “I have an opportunity to present to you,” smiled General Forshire as he moved to the couch and sat down. “I am the Commanding General of the A Corps, and Colonel Treman here will soon be the Commanding Officer of the Olansk garrison. I thought the two of you should become acquainted.”

  Cracker glanced towards the bedroom and saw the colonel standing, his arm extended towards the thief and his hand holding out Cracker’s knife.

  “We truly wish you no harm,” the colonel smiled thinly, “but keep that in its sheath.”

  Cracker nodded as he took the knife and sheathed it. He turned to look at the general. “What is this opportunity that you speak of?”

  “A change is coming in the spring,” answered General Forshire. “It is the type of change that will make you leave your thieving days behind you. Between now and then, we all face a cold and brutal winter. I am offering you and your men a way to keep food in your bellies this winter, and a way to start easing your way out of a profession that will no longer exist. Are you interested?”

  “We could use some food,” conceded the thief, “but I suspect that it comes with strings attached. Am I wrong?”

  “You are perceptive,” the general smiled. “The catch is, you have to stop thieving.”

  “Entirely?” frowned the thief. “You can’t truly expect us to just lie around all winter and eat?”

  “Certainly not. I expect your men to train for war.”

  “War?” gasped the thief. “You can’t be serious. My men are thieves not warriors. Where do you expect them to wage war?”

  “Right here in Olansk. Your men will become members of the A Corps, and you will be tasked with defending Olansk. You will be fed properly, and you will be paid for your service. Your men will be properly trained and outfitted.”

  “How many men do you have?” asked Colonel Treman.

  “Over one hundred,” answered the thief, “but I cannot imagine that they will be thrilled about becoming soldiers. Most of them would probably be hung in the first week for refusing orders.”

  “You manage to handle them fairly well,” interjected Morro. “Why do you think that would change?”

  “You would be a captain, after all,” smiled Colonel Treman. “Your men would still report to you.”

  “An officer?” frowned the thief. “You would really make me an officer? Can you do that?”

  “I can.” General Forshire nodded. “Look, Cracker. I have a need to make Olansk secure against attack. If I am to succeed at that, I cannot have a bunch of thieves living in the warrens underground. That means that I would have to send my soldiers into your lair and exterminate you and your men,
but Morro tells me that you are good people. You are starving while my men are in this city anyway, so why not join us?”

  Cracker frowned in thought. Had Captain Takir said those words, he would have laughed in his face, but the A Corps had proven to be capable of capturing his men on a regular basis. Morale was at an all time low even before the winter snows arrived. The truth was, his band could not steal enough to survive, but there was no way his men would fight for the Federation.

  “Your offer is interesting,” Cracker replied, “but it is unworkable. If you wanted us to police the city, I think we would accept, but my men will not fight for the Federation. Most of them are thieves because the Federation has rejected them in one way or another.”

  Clint glanced at Morro and saw the elven thief smiling.

  “Your men would be a company in the A Corps,” stated the general, “not the Federation army.”

  Cracker stared at the general’s uniform and shook his head in confusion. “What is the difference?”

  “The uniforms may appear the same,” smiled the general, “but that is where the similarity ends. Not one of your men would ever be transferred to another army. I will promise you that, and each of them will be treated with the respect they deserve.”

  “What the general is saying,” interrupted Morro, “is that the A Corps is not made up of the same people who rejected your men. The army was formed from the prisons of the Federation. There is not a man among them that adores the Federation.”

  “You would still control your men, and you would report to Colonel Treman or me,” declared the general.

  “And your sole purpose would be to defend your hometown,” added the colonel. “You would become a hero to your people instead of a scoundrel.”

  The colonel’s words hit a chord with the thief, and Cracker found himself nodding in agreement.

  * * * *

  Sergeant Lamar raced into the Olansk garrison and immediately barged into Captain Takir’s office. He closed the door. The captain looked up and frowned.