by David Pauly
Leaning close, Alfrahil pressed several silver coins into the elder boy's hand. 'If you fail to catch your family's dinner, then you can at least buy good fish for a few months from the market.'
'Th-thank you, your lordship.'
Tousling the boy's hair, Alfrahil moved swiftly along the path to the inn, where he settled down to a meal of fried fish and cool wine. 'How many other organizations exist that have wormed their way into the bureaucrats that feed into the Council of Ministers?' he wondered to himself as he ate. 'Are they all involved in this conspiracy against me, or are most of them disinterested men who only seek an easy way to turn a quick profit?'
At last the commander of the river guard arrived and was brought before Alfrahil. The various guard companies of Eldora wore distinct colors to signify their areas of command. The guards of the Citadel were clothed in silver and black; the regular army men had gray tunics with silver borders; the guards of Sisera wore silver and orange; and the distant border guards wore silver and green. The colors of the river watch were silver and blue, and it was in these colors that the local watch commander approached him now, looking both harried and perplexed. Alfrahil took note of his sad, grizzled face, with lines of care and worry embedded in the tanned skin. The man saluted with rigid formality and asked, 'How can I serve you, my Lord?'
'You can tell me of men under your command who assault little boys fishing for their dinner, and whether or not you knew of this custom,' said Alfrahil.
Alfrahil watched the blood drain from the man's tanned, tired face. 'Perhaps I could speak with you privately, my Lord?'
Alfrahil took a mental breath and dismissed the rest of his men, with the exception of Caelus. 'After the ambush, I am no longer content to be alone, watch commander,' he said. 'Your name please?'
'Cerlon, my Lord, I have heard of this evil practice and have tried to put a stop to it, but one of my lieutenants is the nephew of the Outlier Guard Commander. Thus, I have been given orders to look the other way and allow my men to regulate fishing along the river.'
'Why have you not tried to communicate this matter to higher authorities, for surely not all men of the City are corrupt?' Alfrahil demanded.
Smiling nervously, Cerlon said, 'My Lord, you know to whom the Outlier Commander reports, and it is rumored he approves of these measures.'
Alfrahil's angry countenance darkened even more. 'Certainly I know. He reports to the King, or, if the King is unavailable, to the First Minister. Do you dare to suggest that either my father or Lord Mergin would tolerate this corruption for a moment?'
Caelus quietly spoke up. 'My Lord, the Outlier Commander was replaced about six months ago with a more pliable man, and the Council of Ministers gave the supervision of the Outlier Companies to your brother, Prince Daerahil, as it seemed a duty too onerous for either the King, Lord Mergin, or yourself to handle.'
'Are you telling me that all of the guards outside the City report to Daerahil?' said Alfrahil incredulously.
'Yes, my Lord, they report to him,' said Caelus.
'What of the guards inside the City?' asked Alfrahil.
'They still report to you, my Lord, but there has been talk in Council that only the Citadel guards should still report to you or the King directly,' said Caelus.
'So,' he said, 'are all the guards and their men subject to corruption?'
'No, my Lord, only those whose duty it is to come into contact with monetary situations, and then only the most craven,' said Caelus. 'For example, your border guards are essentially honest, but the customs men that sit along the roads are a different matter. It can be said that even your border scouts have been known to assist a merchant in finding his way around the various toll positions, but for the most part, the merchants pay their tariffs for the protection of the men of Eldora gladly. It is only recently that such commercial unions like the Fishing Guild have been bold enough to try and expand their license into a tyrannical monopoly.'
'Thank you, Caelus, for again you help to open my eyes,' said Alfrahil. He turned his attention back to the Watch Commander. 'Well, Cerlon, if this one lieutenant is dealt with, will the problem subside?'
'No,' replied Cerlon heavily, 'it will not subside. The Outlier Commander would simply replace the lieutenant with another of his cohort, and I would be even less effective in my duties.'
'Your duties,' echoed Alfrahil. 'You seem sadly remiss in your duties. You should have brought this matter to me personally.'
'My Lord, I beg you, how could I have known you would have reacted any differently than your brother?' asked Cerlon desperately.
Caelus said, 'He has a point, my Lord, for until today, I was not sure of your thoughts in this matter, though the rumor of the land has you as virtuous as your father in all things. I see now that I should have raised the issue myself as soon as I entered directly into your service. I beg your forgiveness.'
'I can chastise no man here present more than I do myself, for my ignorance of these matters is equally inexcusable. I still cannot believe Daerahil knows that little boys are being whipped for fishing in the river.'
'I doubt, Lord, that he knows the sordid details,' replied Caelus.
After pausing for a few moments in thought, Alfrahil spoke. 'Cerlon, you shall list the men that you know or suspect are involved in this corruption, both those under your command and those who sit above you in the chain of command, and have their names mentioned in a duty report praising them for their particularly good behavior. This way, as the report passes through your captain's hands, he will think nothing of it, and you will be able to give me the information without placing yourself in danger. Thank you. You may go.'
Cerlon bowed. 'Thank you, my Lord. I will see to it at once.'
After Cerlon had departed, Alfrahil glanced inquiringly at Caelus, who shook his head. 'No, Lord, he is honest, if weak, and his voice rings true when he says there is nothing he can do. If you want to get to the heart of this matter and the other corruption, then the Outlier Captain is the logical choice, but you must take care, as he reports to very powerful men in the City.'
'So, summoning the head of the Fishing Guild would not avail me tonight?' asked Alfrahil.
'No, Lord, for the head of the Guild would tell you that he is shocked to hear of these rumors,' replied Caelus. 'He would swear to you that he would get to the bottom of the problem, and then, when you tried to follow up, you would be delayed repeatedly, until your patience ran out and eventually some low-level merchants and guardsmen would be named as the culprits. Then, after they were dealt with, the Guild would keep a lower profile, until you were no longer watching them so closely. No, Lord, only by working from the top downward can you hope to make significant changes in the way that business is done in Eldora today.'
'This requires much forethought and planning,' Alfrahil responded. 'We will speak more of this later, Caelus. But now we shall return to the inspection. There, at least, I can be assured of finding no unpleasant surprises.'
The schedule for the afternoon began with an artillery demonstration to be observed from atop the battlements, and there Alfrahil repaired now, accompanied by Caelus and his personal guard.
The over-commander, Bufus, was a puffed-up popinjay removed for too long from active command of soldiers in combat. His vast bulk sagged over his trousers, and his armor revealed great gaps between the metal plates where the underlying chain mail was strained to the breaking point.
Alfrahil quietly admired the defenses that had been created with the help of the Dwarves. Even if a host as large as Magnus' army during the Great War flung itself against these breastworks, they would break upon the defenses as a wave upon the shore; unless, of course, they possessed the ancient evil power of Magnar. But that was beyond unlikely. Magnar had been unique, the only person ever to live who could trace his heritage back to all of the races, allowing him to use the magic of each race. In addition, his hybrid blood had given him physical and magical powers far beyond those of ordinary Men, Dwarves and
Elves. Knowledge of the secrets of Magnar was considered a state secret in Eldora, and little if any of the information gleaned about that terrible dark magic had been conveyed to either the Elves or the Dwarves. Alfrahil suspected this policy was enforced within the other races as well, and they, too, had secrets from those days that they had not shared with Men.
Returning to the present, Alfrahil surveyed the defenses of the river. Level upon level, barrier upon barrier, the defenses were not necessarily designed to stop an army at a single point, but to allow them to slowly infiltrate the defensive perimeter a fathom at a time. At every two fathoms there were slightly different obstacles, funneling the would-be attackers through a web of objects that would expose them to direct fire, plunging fire, and enfilading fire simultaneously, protecting the defenders from actual assault. The Dwarven engineers who had designed the system had estimated that a ten-to-one advantage would be required to breach these defenses, and Alfrahil saw no reason to quarrel with that assessment.
Alfrahil saw that catapults and ballistae had been set up to subject any invading army to long-range boulder and javelin attacks that would shatter enemy siege towers and wagons, and play havoc with their military formations. One of the newer ballistae was being attended to now by several soldiers. It fired four smaller javelins at the same distance as a larger javelin and was designed to attack enemy troops rather than fortified positions. The ballista was sitting on a wheeled dais so that it could be rotated toward its targets.
Bufus told him, 'The artillery is routinely cleaned, oiled, and tested to make certain that it is ready for action at any time. You can see hand-picked soldiers about to demonstrate the accuracy and range of our newest invention, the four-shot ballista. Look there, my Lord.'
Alfrahil looked out and saw several men attending an artillery piece. Bright white targets with a small red target the size of a human head were ranged from fifty to three hundred yards away. Knowing that he must begin to prepare for his military tour of Shardan, he paid close attention, and the first series of bolts shot away toward the closest targets fifty yards distant. The artillery was reloaded and the sighting mechanisms adjusted with each successive firing, until, after ten volleys, all of the shafts had struck their targets.
'Well,' said Alfrahil, 'I can see your artillery men know their business. What will they do now?'
'They will finalize their ranging data and readjust for the next set of targets at one hundred yards. I have arranged for a cavalry demonstration for you now, my Lord, unless you wish to continue to observe the artillery.'
'No, Commander, let us proceed with your demonstration.' Taking one last glance at the artillery, Alfrahil saw the apparatus rapidly spin to the right and point toward the battlements.
'Commander?' asked a perplexed Alfrahil.
'What in the name of wonder is going on down there?' demanded Bufus angrily of no one in particular. 'There should be no possibility that those artillery pieces can point back toward the battlements! They should only point away from us, so that if they are ever taken in combat, they cannot be used against us! Excuse me, my lord.' And turning to his second in command, he ordered the man to descend to the field below and determine what was going on.
Alfrahil was about to suggest that they move on to the cavalry maneuvers when a slight gleam of light caught the corner of his eye. In the next instant, he was thrown to the ground. A shout rose up from one of the Shadows, a horrible, high-pitched screaming that rapidly died away.
Alfrahil felt a heavy weight pressing him down onto the stones. He struggled against it, and then suddenly felt the pressure leave. He was pulled to his feet by a Shadow, shaken but unscathed.
Bufus had not been as fortunate. He lay before Alfrahil, a confident popinjay no longer, holding his bleeding arm and moaning. A javelin had opened it to the bone. Near him was the body of a Shadow, who had taken a javelin directly to the head. Brains and blood were scattered across the battlements, trickling down Alfrahil's his neck in sickening sticky gobs.
Caelus exclaimed, 'Are you hurt, my Lord?'
'No,' said Alfrahil with disbelief. The ballista's two other javelins had claimed two more of his guardsmen. Once again death's cold hand had let Alfrahil's life slip through its fingers. Too shocked to take command of the situation, he asked, 'What happened?'
'The closest ballista suddenly turned toward us and fired.' Turning to a nearby sergeant, Caelus shouted, 'Get down there and find out what happened. Bring the entire ballista crew to me alive, so that they can be interrogated by Lord Mergin.'
As the sergeant left them, Caelus quietly called for guardsmen to take Bufus to the infirmary and helped a shocked Alfrahil into an inner room and called for some spirits of Dorian, liquor from the delta region of Eldora.
Moments later, servants arrived with the alcohol, still sealed against tampering, that Caelus requested. He poured a large measure for Alfrahil and firmly bade him to drink it down.
Alfrahil complied in a daze. But the strong spirits restored his wits. Suddenly aware that he was drenched in blood and gore, he set down the empty goblet. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to tear off his ruined clothes and have servants scrub his body clean. But just then, Commander Bufus' adjutant entered the room.
The man, pale of visage, saluted and addressed the prince. 'Lord, I must deliver Commander Bufus' report, as he is with the military healers, but I have a preliminary report from the ballista crew. The normal crews of four men assigned to the ballista were replaced today, on orders from their captain, with a special detachment of four veterans from the Shardan campaign. These men were supposed to be preparing a demonstration of how the new ballista could be used for greater effect. When they saw you on the battlements, they turned their weapon toward you and with great precision fired the javelins.'
'Where are they now?' Alfrahil demanded. 'Surely they can tell us why and how they were able to launch such an attack.'
'I am sorry, Lord, but none of them are alive. Two drew their weapons and chose to fight. They were slain before they could be disarmed. The other two, seeing that they were going to be captured, stabbed each other through the throat. Each died within seconds. I have ordered a search of their barracks, clothing, and horses.'
'Send messages to Mergin, my father, and to the Shadow commander, Gray Water,' ordered Alfrahil. 'Get replacements for my guardsmen down here as soon as possible. That will be all.' The adjutant, the shame upon his face clear, saluted again and bolted from the room.
'My meeting with Hilforas has just taken on fresh urgency,' Alfrahil observed to Caelus.
'Lord, if you will take my advice, you will cancel your meeting with the Elf and proceed back to the Citadel immediately.'
Shaking his head, Alfrahil replied weakly, 'I have just been attacked at the center of the strongest fortifications in the kingdom by my own troops. If the conspirators can reach me here, they can penetrate even into the Citadel. I cannot spend the rest of my life in seclusion, and Hilforas may have information that may allow us to make progress in the investigation.'
'Then, Lord, I would suggest returning to the inn where you had lunch. I will send Shadows and some guardsmen ahead to make it secure. We can bring Hilforas there.'
'Very well,' said Alfrahil with resignation. 'I will first bathe and change into fresh clothes and leave my armor here to be cleaned and oiled. I will then meet with Hilforas while awaiting Mergin's message as to when it will be safe to return to the City.'
'Sire, you will be vulnerable without your armor. I beg you to put it on, bloody or no.'
'Both the ambushes employed weapons that would penetrate my armor, so wearing it would be useless. Besides, it's filthy, heavy, and hot. A thick leather jerkin will be sufficient. Now send word to prepare my bath.'
#
Alfrahil arrived at the inn, escorted by two Shadows where he nearly fell from his horse as the fear and fatigue from the attack caught up with him. Two more Shadows stood guard outside the inn, as Caelus gave Alfrahi
l a critical look as he as he helped him to stand, Caelus said, 'I do not think you were injured in your body my lord.'
'No, just my mind, Caelus, I have avoided death in all its forms my entire life, and now, within a few days, it has reached out take me. But for happenstance, I would be a shade today.' Shaking, he barely walked into the inn under his own strength.
'Lord, neither ambush was your fault; you acquitted yourself nobly each time by escaping. Please rest quietly in the back room. I will have a carafe of wine brought to you while you take your ease. There is more than two hours before we are supposed to meet Hilforas.'
A Shadow escorted a serving woman bearing a large goblet of local wine towards Alfrahil, who sat on a simple overstuffed couch looking at both his shaking hands. Caelus moved to taste the wine first for poison, but the Shadow said, 'The Inn has been thoroughly searched, the food and wine tasted for poison, the Prince is safe.’ Alfrahil gratefully removed his jerkin and relaxed upon the couch, quaffing two more glasses, and felt sleep wash over him.
Awakened by Caelus, he put on his jerkin again and exited the inn. Outside, he stood listening to the sound of the river. Then horsemen came into view, riding along the river pathway toward them and bearing the flags of the Elves of Ackerlea.
There were twenty, led by a tall Elf whose long dark hair streamed behind him. The Elf's horse whinnied gladly at the sight of so many of its brethren. As the riders approached, the leader cried out, 'Hail, and well met, Prince Alfrahil. I am Hilforas, chief scout and errand rider to Ferox, Elf Lord of Ackerlea; Lord of the North Forest.'
'Elf Lord of Ackerlea?' asked a weary Alfrahil. 'I was unaware that Ackerlea had been turned over to the Elves by the Men of Eldora, or has Ferox decided to take what he so clearly covets?'
Smiling tightly, Hilforas said, 'This is the current title that Ferox uses, and I am required to use it, though it is not a title Albericus has or ever would convey upon the young upstart. Indeed, what better manners can you expect of someone who is only one thousand years old?'
