Demonkin

by Richard S. Tuttle

  * * * *

  Garth Shado was sleeping in the Great Chamber of Tarashin when the knocking sounded on the Door. He immediately leaped to his feet and drew his sword. Kalina rose next to him and erected shields around them. A dozen Tarashin warriors were also in the room, and they stiffened to attention. One of the dwarves raced out of the chamber to inform King Drakarik.

  “Are you going to answer it?” Kalina asked as everyone remained frozen.

  “Anyone could walk through that Door once we unlock it,” warned Garth. “Are we ready for such an event?”

  He looked to the dwarven warriors, and they nodded in return. Garth held his sword with one hand and took the key out of his pouch. He carefully unlocked the Door and leaped backwards, both hands wrapping around the hilt of the two-handed sword. The Door slowly opened as everyone in the room tensed for a possible confrontation. Morro stepped into the room with a look of shock on his face. He had expected to walk into Karicon’s chamber, not the Great Chamber where the dwarves held their feasts.

  “Close the Door,” Garth instructed the elf as King Drakarik arrived to witness the event.

  “I must not,” Morro replied as he stuck his hand back through the Door and signaled the others. “There are others to come through, but I had to be sure that the way was safe.”

  Garth watched in awe as King Arik and Queen Tanya stepped into the room. The dwarves looked on in confusion, but Garth dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

  “Welcome to Zara, King Arik,” Garth said loudly.

  The dwarves looked on in wonder. King Drakarik had heard about King Arik and the Sword of Heavens. Garth’s words suddenly struck home, and the dwarven king also knelt.

  “Welcome to Tarashin, Garala,” King Drakarik said loudly. “I am honored to be in your presence.”

  Upon hearing the king’s words, all of the dwarves present fell to one knee. They bowed their heads until the warrior king bade them to stand.

  “I am pleased by my reception to Tarashin,” smiled King Arik. “I did not know if the dwarves of Tarashin followed the prophecy of Garala. I am pleased that you do, but I came prepared if you did not.” King Arik made a motion towards the Door, and four dwarves walked into the room through the Door. “King Drakarik, King of Tarashin, may I present Queen Lywen, Queen of Lanto; King Tring, King of Dorgun; King Caratakora, King of Cazra; and King Tugar, King of Talman.”

  “Merciful Ax!” grinned King Drakarik. “Never in all my years did I ever expect to see my kin again. This is the most glorious day in all the history of the dwarven people. Let us have a dwarven summit. Come into Tarashin so that we might all feast together.”

  King Drakarik ordered his men to prepare for a feast and then moved swiftly across the room. He greeted each of the dwarven monarchs with an embrace. While the dwarven monarchs greeted one another, King Arik and Queen Tanya motioned Garth and Kalina to the side of the room.

  “Do not be angry with Morro,” King Arik said softly. “While his methods might seem haphazard, he succeeded beyond our wildest imaginations. This portal will allow us to have instant access to one another. It will aid the war on both continents.”

  Garth glanced at the elf who was still standing by the Door, not knowing what to do. He turned back to the king and winked at him.

  “I am sure to give him a hard time for failing to have faith in me,” Garth smiled, “but he is a good man. In fact, I have even more dangerous work in mind for him.”

  “Do you know about the hourglass?” Queen Tanya asked in a whisper.

  “I do.” Garth nodded. “It would seem that the Mage still smiles upon us.”

  “How is he?” Tanya asked with concern.

  “He is unlike his old self, but still much the same,” Garth replied. “Did you know that he was Smokey for a while?”

  “You mentioned that in one of your messages,” Tanya nodded. “I wish I could meet him just one more time.”

  “Only he can allow that,” replied Kalina. “While he still holds us dearly in his heart, his mind is on greater things. We are thankful for whatever help he offers. We all had dreams one night. It seems that the nature of demonkin is changing. No longer can we trust that they will all look like K’san. Many different faces took the place of K’san’s face. You must be wary at all times. The demonkin can be anyone.”

  “That is not encouraging,” frowned the queen.

  “It gets worse,” continued Kalina. “The stock used to create the new demonkin are elven healers with royal blood. Expect their powers to be greater than anything K’san was capable of.”

  “Where is this Door in Alcea?” asked Garth.

  “It is in the Royal Palace,” answered King Arik. “We have isolated it in a seldom-used wing of the palace, and it is guarded by Rangers. The entire wing is inhabited by Rangers, and safeguards have been put in place to make sure that no one gets very far if they enter uninvited.”

  “Good,” replied Garth. “I am having King Drakarik make a chamber specifically for the Door. It will also be under constant guard. While these Doors offer great advantages, they also scare me a bit.”

  “We certainly used the Federation’s Doors to our advantage,” replied Queen Tanya. “We would be foolish not to safeguard our own. We would like your advice on the coming war, Father. Yours, too, Mother.”

  “We know that you have your hands full here in Zara,” stated the king, “but we value your advice. Will you have time to come and visit?”

  “We will make time,” promised Garth. “I may also bring other people as time permits. It would do wonders to solidify the Council of War, if I can show some of the Zarans what we are fighting for.”

  “I agree,” stated the king. “That is one reason I brought the dwarves with me. The people of Tarashin are not just fighting for themselves. They are helping their brethren to survive.”

  Morro watched the dwarves hugging each other with mixed emotions. While he was happy for the dwarves, he wished he could see the same kinship for the elves. The reception from the elves of Elderal was still on his mind, and it stung bitterly. He tore his eyes away from the dwarves and watched curiously as King Arik drew Garth and Kalina to one side of the room. He saw Garth glance at him and knew that he was the topic of conversation. He could only imagine what was being said, and he dreaded meeting with Garth after the Alceans left for home. When no one was looking, Morro slipped out of the chamber.

  The elf roamed the corridors aimlessly for a while, his mind pondering the trouble he had gotten himself into. Eventually, he found himself in the corridor that led to Karicon’s chamber. He wondered how much trouble he had gotten the dwarf into. He did not look forward to finding out, but he had to know if Sparky had returned. He headed toward his friend’s chamber and knocked on the door with his special knock. The door opened immediately and Karicon’s face broke into a smile.

  “I was not sure that I would ever see you again,” greeted Karicon. “Do you know that you left Sparky in the valley?”

  “I knew that I had lost him,” answered Morro, “but I was not sure where. Did he get back safely?”

  “Of course I did,” chirped the fairy as Morro entered the room. “The next time I get to push the trigger, and you get left behind.”

  “I am truly sorry,” apologized the elf. “I did not realize that you were gone until it was too late. I sure could have used you in Alcea. I went the wrong way.”

  “Serves you right,” grinned the fairy. “Never leave me behind again.”

  “I doubt that there will be much chance of that,” sighed Morro. “Once King Arik leaves Tarashin, I fully expect to get a thrashing that I will never forget.”

  “Garala is here?” Karicon asked excitedly. “Where is he? I must go see him.”

  “He is in the Great Chamber,” answered Morro. “The other dwarven monarchs are there as well.”

  “I will talk to you later, Morro,” Karicon said as he raced out the door.

  Morro slumped down on the low table and sigh
ed deeply. Sparky flew to the elf and settled on his shoulder.

  “You seem depressed,” the fairy said compassionately. “Was it that bad in Alcea?”

  “I felt like a fool,” replied Morro. “I went the wrong way and was attacked by Elderal elves. I used the hourglass to escape but then the humans of Mya jailed me. If King Arik had not come to rescue me, I would have ended up dead for sure. I was totally unprepared for the journey.”

  “You did not plan on losing me,” the fairy said sympathetically. “I could have helped you in Alcea. Do not be so hard on yourself. The next time we will do great.”

  “There will be no next time,” replied the elf. “I am sure that Garth will berate me for my risk taking, and I bet he removes you from me as well.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” grinned the fairy. “Fairies hear things that they should not speak of.”

  “What do you know?” Morro asked warily.

  “Things that I should not speak of,” Sparky replied teasingly.

  “We are partners,” protested Morro. “If you know something truly important, you have an obligation to share it.”

  “I think I understand your meaning,” the fairy responded slyly. “So you won’t get mad at me if I shared the secret of the hourglass with Garth Shado?”

  Sparky expected outrage from the elf, but Morro simply sighed and nodded.

  “I was wrong to keep that a secret, too,” he said wearily. “I ended up telling King Arik about it. I am sure everyone will know before too long.”

  “I think you are wrong,” replied the fairy. “You do not understand Garth and the Bringer well enough. They understand the importance of secrets, but they also demand to know them so that they may make the best use of whatever skills we have.”

  “I suppose.” Morro shrugged. “Tell me what you heard that I should not hear.”

  “Garth has a dangerous mission planned for us,” the fairy whispered conspiratorially. “I think it involves the use of the hourglass.”

  “So,” mused the elf, “he does not know that anyone can use it.”

  “He knows,” retorted Sparky. “I told him that I used it.”

  “And he still wants me to use it?”

  “It is yours. It was a gift from the Mage. You do not see Garth using Tedi’s staff, do you?”

  “Did he get that from the Mage?”

  “He did.” The fairy nodded. “It was a long time ago. Most of the Knights of Alcea have had close relationships with the Mage at one time or another.”

  Morro dwelled on the fairy’s words for a while. He thought about the Knights of Alcea he had met, and recognized that each of them was special in some way. He wondered if the Mage’s gift meant that the Mage thought he was special, too. The thought intrigued him, but his mind soon returned to the mistakes he made in Alcea. He just couldn’t put them out of his mind. For twenty years, he had had an impeccable record among the thieves without so much as a slip up, but he made many mistakes in one short trip to Alcea.

  “Who is Garth Shado?” he asked the fairy. “When I used that name in Alcea, they thought he was a bandit who died a long time ago.”

  “It is an alias,” answered the fairy. “His real name is Alexander Tork. He is Alcea’s most famous warrior, and the queen is his daughter.”

  Morro’s eyes widened in awe. “And Kalina?”

  “Her name is Jenneva Tork. She is Alexander’s wife and the greatest magician to ever live, besides the Mage of course, but he is no ordinary magician.”

  “And I stole their belongings and lured them into the Sands of Eternity,” chuckled Morro. “I guess whatever Garth throws at me, I deserve it.”

  Chapter 25

  To Olansk

  General Forshire sat on a bench near the docks of the Imperial Palace in Despair. He gazed out at the Sea of Tears, but his mind was not focused on the many ships that plied the waters. The revelation that Grand General Kyrga was making secret trips to the Temple of Balmak troubled him. The disguise and the elaborate methods that Kyrga used were a strong indication that he wanted that secret kept from the emperor. For Clint that information was enlightening. The Ranger was fairly confident that Kyrga was manipulating the emperor into doing the bidding of K’san, but what was unclear in Clint’s mind was what he should do about it. Was Kyrga a rival for leadership of the Federation? Or was Jaar essential to K’san’s plan for attacking Alcea? The answers to those questions suggested different paths of attack for the Ranger.

  If Kyrga was a competitor to Emperor Jaar, General Forshire could gain great importance, and hence great access, to the emperor by revealing Kyrga’s duplicity. That, of course, was dependent upon the emperor winning the struggle between Kyrga and himself. That was not a foregone conclusion considering that Kyrga had the help of the demonkin in his favor. If Clint spoke up and Kyrga won the contest, Clint would die.

  On the other hand, if Emperor Jaar was being manipulated to do the demonkin’s will, it was an indication that K’san thought that Emperor Jaar was necessary for some reason, otherwise Kyrga would merely replace the emperor. So why would Jaar be needed? Would the other countries of the Federation refuse to follow Kyrga if he seized power? Would the whole attack plan fall apart? Clint shook his head and sighed. There were too many questions and too few answers.

  “Something weighing heavy on your mind?” Colonel Taerin asked in a friendly manner as he stepped off the walkway.

  Clint looked up at the emperor’s man and smiled thinly. “I find this a good place to sit and reflect on things. What is happening in the real world?”

  “Not a great deal,” the colonel replied. “Your two fellow guests of the emperor seem to be having fun strutting their new armies around. It is comical.”

  “I do not know much about General Fabio,” chuckled Clint, “but Garibaldi is no leader of men. Put him together with the dregs of the prison who were unfit to be redeemed, and I would also find it comical.”

  “General Fabio is not much better,” shrugged the colonel. “He is not quite so self-absorbed, but he certainly overvalues himself.”

  Clint found the colonel’s observations interesting. He was sure that Colonel Taerin did not share such feelings with other officers, so why was he willing to share them with him? Or did the colonel play every officer against the others? For all Clint knew, Colonel Taerin could be saying similar things about him to the other generals. Befriending people would be an excellent way to gain information for the emperor.

  “You are a fine judge of character,” General Forshire smiled.

  “I like to think so,” the colonel replied with a slight smile. “I understand that you have been asking questions about Captain Kent.”

  A warning shiver raced up Clint’s spine. He had thought that his questions had been informal and casual, but evidently, he had tipped his hand a bit too much.

  “I heard his name somewhere,” shrugged Clint. “It sounded familiar to me, so I thought I would inquire about him. Do you know him?”

  “I have dealt with him,” Colonel Taerin responded. “He was a captain in the city guards.”

  “Was?” questioned the general.

  “He was recently transferred to Olansk,” stated the colonel.

  “A promotion?” Clint asked curiously.

  “There was no promotion,” answered the colonel. “Merely a transfer.”

  “Curious,” mused the general. “Perhaps he has family in Olansk.”

  “I believe that Captain Kent was born in Despair,” shrugged the colonel. “I can’t imagine him having any family in such a backwater city such as Olansk.”

  Clint recognized a gift when he saw one. For whatever reason, Colonel Taerin was informing General Forshire that Captain Kent had been sent away against his will. That gift probably indicated that the emperor wanted someone to follow up on the reason why, but he didn’t want it to be official.

  Clint stared out to sea silently for a few moments as he tried to collect his thoughts. He knew that Colon
el Taerin held the confidence of the emperor, but that did not mean that he was not also Kyrga’s man. Taerin would not be the first officer to play all sides in a conflict. He wondered if he should mention the reason he was trying to find Captain Kent, but he decided to hold off for the time being. Instead, he decided to pursue a different line of thought, a line concerning Kyrga’s duplicity and the need for Emperor Jaar to be kept as a figurehead of the Federation.

  “I know so little about the history of the Empire of Barouk,” General Forshire said. “In Tyronia we have a royal family, and leadership is passed down from a father to a son. How is it done here?”

  Colonel Taerin’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the general. “I can’t help but wonder what brought such a question to mind,” the colonel said warily. “It is a far leap from discussing Captain Kent.”

  Clint detected a certain wariness in the colonel, a wariness that he had not seen in the young man before. Clint knew that he had just overstepped some invisible barrier of correctness, and he tried to fabricate a reason for his question.

  “I was just thinking about the reasons for Captain Kent being transferred,” lied General Forshire. “What if he was related to the emperor, and the emperor sent him away as a punishment or something like that? Perhaps he failed the emperor in some way.”

  Colonel Taerin visibly relaxed. “That is hardly the case. Emperor Jaar does not get involved in the minutiae of the army. That is what he has generals for. Oh, he may promote or demote a general when he feels the need, but he would never interfere with lesser officers.”

  “It was just a thought,” shrugged the general. “It has made me curious, though. Is the succession handled the same in Barouk?”

  “It is the same here,” answered the colonel, “but asking questions about the heirs of the emperor is considered to be in bad taste. He is very protective of his family. Will you be staying long in Despair?”