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Heirs of the Enemy

Page 62

by Richard S. Tuttle


  “I shall do so,” promised K’san.

  Without a word, Artimor turned and hobbled towards the mouth of the cave.

  “Where are you going?” asked K’san. “Perhaps I can be of assistance to you.”

  “Your kind has not proved to be useful in the past,” scowled Artimor. “I doubt the value of your worth in the future. If your Snakes have plans to attack the Alceans, they had better hurry. Time is running out. Come spring, they will die along with the Alceans.”

  Artimor stepped out of the cave and disappeared. K’san spat towards the entrance of the cave, the acidic phlegm sending tendrils of vapor rising from the rock floor.

  * * * *

  King Arik paced the floor of the newly-rebuilt library in the Royal Palace of Tagaret. Prince Oscar, General Gregor, and Queen Tanya watched him closely from the other side of the room. Lord Markel and Lord Clava sat at the table in the middle of the room staring at a map of Alcea. The map was cluttered with dozens of small markers denoting the potential positions of armies. With each report coming in, the king had grown more despondent until he had turned completely silent. The advisors all watched silently until they could take it no longer.

  “It doesn’t help if you turn inward, Arik,” the queen said softly. “Share your thoughts with the rest of us. Perhaps we will have something to offer.”

  The king halted and turned around with a look of annoyance on his face. When he saw everyone staring at him, he sighed with frustration, and his facial features softened.

  “I am sorry. Every time I look at that map, I realize the hopelessness of our situation. Even if every one of our surprises comes to fruition, our odds of victory are miniscule, and you have read the reports of the progress of our projects. Every one of them is in danger of falling short. I don’t know what else to do. The coming storm is going to tear our world apart, and I am helpless to stop it.”

  “That is not the son I raised,” frowned Lord Clava as he looked up from the map and stared at the man he had raised from a child.

  “Nor the one I sired,” agreed Prince Oscar. “You were born to lead this country, and you will do so. The gods didn’t choose you just so you could wear a crown and be proud of your past accomplishments. Thousands of people are depending upon you to save them.”

  “And they are willing to fight for you,” added Lord Markel. “None of them are ready to give up, so why should you?”

  “The people do not know what I know,” retorted the king. “They do not get the chance to gaze at that map every day.”

  General Gregor quietly crossed the room to the table. As everyone watched, he slid his arm across the table, sliding the markers off the map. He calmly and deliberately rolled the map up and placed it on the rack near the wall.

  “Let us put the details out of the way for now,” the general suggested. “I think we are getting too bogged down in minutiae. One of your main duties is to inspire your people. You cannot do that when you concentrate on failure. Let me handle the details. When it gets closer to spring, I will call for the greatest strategist to ever walk these lands. Together we will work the details to our advantage.”

  “Alex?” questioned the king. “He always said that General Clark was the greatest strategist he knew.”

  “The queen’s father is a modest man,” smiled the general. “Alexander Tork could outmaneuver a spider in its own web. You need to concentrate on the big picture.”

  “He is right, Arik,” interjected Queen Tanya. “We are getting bogged down. Give the Knights of Alcea whatever they want to complete their projects and then forget about them. They are capable people. They will deliver for you or die in the attempt.”

  “My money would be on their successful completion,” smiled Prince Oscar, “and I do not gamble away my gold foolishly.”

  “I think our king is forgetting the caliber of the Knights of Alcea,” suggested Lord Markel. “With them spread out all over the world, he forgets how remarkable they are, but I am sure his memories are not too far away.”

  King Arik thought back on the days when the Knights of Alcea were forming and the incredible victories they accomplished. He began to understand what his advisors were saying to him, and his lips started to curl upward.

  “You are all correct. I have been staring at the markers and fearing the great host coming to slaughter us, but I have let the memories of the Knights of Alcea fade, not only the Knights of Alcea, but also the great people of Alcea. We banded together like no other nation ever has, and we can do it again. We will do it again, somehow.”

  Everyone in the room began to smile, and the king continued talking.

  “You work on the details, General. If you need something from me, ask, otherwise I will refrain from getting involved. Tanya, I am going to need your advice on rousing our people to great spirits once again. When the coming storm finally rears its ugly head, we will send those foul winds back upon our enemy. Alcea will survive.”

  Everyone applauded and the king strode confidently from the library to begin his campaign to prepare the Alceans for war. As soon as he was gone, Prince Oscar turned to the queen with a frown upon his face.

  “Will his mood last?” he asked softly.

  “He will be out speaking to the people all over the country in a matter of days,” smiled the queen. “It is something that he is good at, and something the people really need right now. I cannot think of a better task for him.”

  “Perhaps not,” retorted the prince, “but there is still a Claw of Alutar lurking out there somewhere. Perhaps I should remind him of that.”

  “You do,” scowled the queen, “and I will turn you into a frog. It was the death of Fredrik that sent him into this depression. I will not allow you to send him back there.”

  “What about his safety?” questioned General Gregor.

  “I will be by his side every minute of the day,” vowed the queen. I will keep him safe.”

  “May the gods watch over both you,” Lord Markel said softly.

  THE END

  Maps and information can be found at http://www.rstuttle.com/

  You can contact the author at: tuttle@rstuttle.com

 

 

 


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