13 Day War
( Demonstone chronicles - 6 )
Richard S. Tuttle
Richard S. Tuttle
13 Day War
Our story so far…
In Knights of Alcea the kingdom was awakened from its peaceful slumber when the Alceans discovered a growing rebellion, a rebellion unlike any other. Mysterious priests swore allegiance to Balmak, a previously unknown god, and were spreading seeds of discontent throughout Alcea. As the danger grew, the Knights of Alcea were drawn back into the king's service, and they soon discovered that the rebellion was tied to other ominous events. Elves attacking human villages, and humans attacking dwarves were events unheard of since the forming of Alcea, and together with the rebellion, they seemed designed to bring Alcea to the brink of disaster. Yet, the picture was still not clear enough for Alexander Tork. While all of the problems put together might bring chaos to Alcea, he knew that there had to be more to the sinister plot. Eventually it was discovered that a massive army from an unknown land across the waters was waiting for Alcea to be weakened before attacking.
The Knights of Alcea destroyed the Temples of Balmak and ensured that no division would exist between the races of the kingdom, but they knew that their actions were not enough to ensure that the attack by foreign forces would be stopped. King Arik set out to reorganize and bolster the forces of Alcea to meet the coming invasion, but that was not enough for Alexander Tork. During the course of battles against the mysterious priests, Alex stole a Zaran ship, the Remora. He pressed the king for permission to go to the unknown land and determine the weakness of the enemy. King Arik, believing that Alex would go regardless of permission, finally gave his blessing, but he limited the party to only five Knights of Alcea.
In Final Voyage of the Remora, Alex enlisted the aid of three Alcea Rangers and three elves of Glendor to join with the five Knights of Alcea. He hired a captain and crew and set out across the ocean with only a rough chart to guide them into the unknown. The journey was troublesome from the beginning. Two Zaran spies had managed to get themselves included in the crew, and the enemy was waiting for their arrival. Driven by strange dreams, Alex unwittingly outmaneuvered the Zarans and landed in the Endless Swamp. The landing turned out to be fortuitous as the Knights of Alcea made many important contacts including Haditha, the water witch, Sidney Mercado, the merchant, and Morro, the elven thief. Prince Rigal also made contact with the Dielderal elves and discovered that the Federation holds them as slaves. To ensure the Federation's control over the Dielderal, all elven children are taken out of the Elfwoods and kept in reeducation centers in the major cities of the Federation.
Volume two of the Demonstone Chronicles ended with the destruction of the Zaran invasion fleet. It also ended the chances for our heroes to return home to Alcea. Captain Gomery, Haditha, and two sailors were not rescued along with the others. While Captain Gomery and Haditha made it to safety, Loman and Tyroma were never found. The rest of the heroes, knowing that each day of delay would buy Alcea more time to prepare for war, vowed to continue to wage covert actions against the Zarans, but they were confined to the lost city of Aranak, which is deep under the sands of the desert.
In Council of War, the Alceans in Zara split up. Garth and Kalina are joined by Tedi, Natia, and Morro as they journey to the major cities of the Federation to learn more about their enemy. Karl Gree leads the rest of the Alceans in an attempt to reach the safety of Tyronia, but his plans are foiled by the Federation as they block Sebastian Pass and send thousands of troops to hunt the Alceans. With nowhere else to turn, Karl leads the group into the Forest of Death, and they are eventually captured by the Zaroccans as spies.
Garth and his party earn the appreciation of the Rhodans by saving three of their women from the Federation army, but those actions demand a retreat to the safety of Tyronia. As the nation of Tyronia falls to the Federation, Garth leads his people to the horse countries on unicorns, but not before substituting Clint for a traitorous Tyronian general. While Clint is sent to Despair as a representative of Tyronia, Garth finds himself involved in a struggle to free Karl's group and establish a Council of War to fight the Federation in Zara. To gain the support of the horse countries, Garth must find twenty thousand fighters to stand against the Federation. In a frenzied tour of the continent, Garth unites the elves, dwarves, and humans of various countries into a strange alliance to battle the Federation. Only time will tell if the alliance stands, and if it will prove to be enough to affect the outcome of the destructive war coming to two continents.
In Demonkin, Book Four of the Demonstone Chronicles, the Alceans covertly attack four cities of the Federation, freeing the elven children from the education centers built to hold the elves captive. King Elengal leads the Dielderal through the dwarven tunnel to the sanctuary on the Island of Despair, while making it appear that they have fled to sea in ships.
Meanwhile, the demons create a new breed of demonkin, the Claws of Alutar. These four powerful creatures are designed to extract revenge from the Alceans for the plight of the Great Demon. Their singular goal is to eliminate the Heroes of the Mage, starting with the Warrior King.
Clint, posing as General Forshire, builds his small Federation army and discovers the true nature of Camp Destiny, a massive valley holding the portals to be used in the coming attack on Alcea.
The Mage, traveling as Fakir Aziz, continues to gather powerful mages to his side. The destination of the group remains a secret, and the mysterious purpose of such immense power is never spoken of.
In Heirs of the Enemy, the Knights of Alcea gathered the heirs to the thrones of the Federation and sequestered them in a private level of Herinak Castle in Korocca. Zack Nolan, the Alcean spymaster, began a campaign of disinformation intended to not only deceive the Federation, but also to create dissention among the ranks of the enemy army.
Meanwhile in Alcea, King Arik’s faithful are designing traps to ensnare portions of the invading armies. While this strategy will lessen the impact of the invading hordes, the Alceans will still be woefully outnumbered.
Chapter 1
Sowing Fear
The sergeant opened the door to the tavern in Valdo and stepped into the dimly-lit room. He paused for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness as he scanned the tables looking for a likely target. As was customary, many of the patrons glanced towards the door to see who had entered the establishment. More than a few eyes lingered on the newcomer far longer than necessary to determine if a friend had arrived. Some of the patrons noted the long, nasty scar that ran from the sergeant’s temple to his jaw. Others smiled knowingly at the sergeant’s full beard, recognizing it as an obvious attempt to lessen the visual impact of the man’s scarred flesh. There was a twinge of sympathy from some, but most were apathetic to the sergeant’s misfortune. But it was neither the scar nor the beard that set the sergeant apart from a normal visitor to the tavern. It was the patch on his uniform. The patch of the 15th Corps of Ertak was seldom seen in the city of Valdo. In fact, there had always been a bit of a rivalry between the soldiers of Spino and those of Ertak.
The sergeant ignored the stares, and locked his eyes on a table where two corporals belonging to Spino’s 21st Corps sat talking quietly. He made his way across the room and sat across the table from the two corporals. The men were among those few who had not bothered to gaze upon the newcomer, and they were so deep into their discussion that they did not even acknowledge the sergeant’s arrival at their table. The sergeant sat quietly, listening to the conversation that centered on the coming war. He did not offer his own thoughts. Indeed, he purposely appeared not to be listening, a man lost in his own thoughts. The serving girl came by, and the sergeant ordered a pitcher of mountain ale. That simple act c
aught the attention of his two table-mates. The corporals looked across the table, seemingly noticing the sergeant for the first time.
“Gold to burn?” asked one of the corporals.
“What’s an Ertakan doing in Valdo?” asked the other.
The sergeant raised his eyes from the table to look at the two corporals. He smiled thinly at their comments.
“Valdo has always had the best ale,” he commented. “Besides, the gold is not mine. Why shouldn’t I enjoy the best?”
The serving girl returned with the pitcher of special ale and set it down on the table. The sergeant filled his mug and casually waved towards the pitcher.
“You are welcome to share my ale if you wish,” he offered.
The two corporals looked at each another with skeptical expressions.
“What’s the catch?” one of the corporals asked.
“No catch,” smiled the sergeant. “I travel frequently from Farmin to Despair, and the colonel gives me a generous travel allowance. I always try to stop in Valdo on the way through. Drink up and enjoy yourselves.”
Both of the corporals smiled broadly and filled their mugs.
“We don’t often meet friendly Ertakans,” offered one of the corporals. “Be careful or you will spoil your country’s reputation.”
The sergeant laughed and nodded. “Truth be told, I was born in the Bloodwood. It might have been on the Ertak side of the border, but not by much. I probably have more in common with the men of Spino than my own countrymen. Ertakans actually think the Dark Forest is beautiful. They have never enjoyed a good romp in the Bloodwood.”
“Here, here,” one of the corporals heartily agreed.
“What takes you to Despair so often?” asked the other corporal.
“Intelligence,” the sergeant answered. “General Montero wants to be kept up-to-date on the Alceans. He doesn’t like surprises in the field.”
“Really?” the corporal responded with interest. “So you know a lot about Alcea and what it is like? Can you share what Despair has told you?”
The sergeant frowned heavily and hesitated to answer.
“You can’t be asking the sergeant things like that,” scolded the other corporal. “You’ll get him in trouble. Drink his ale and be happy.”
The sergeant sighed and smiled slightly. “The truth is, Despair has little to offer about Alcea. I carry a lot of information about troop strength and matters concerning the disposition of the 15th Corps, and I cannot speak of that, but they say little about Alcea.”
“Perhaps they don’t know much about it,” suggested one of the corporals. “I heard they sent some colonels there just a little while ago.”
“That is true,” replied the sergeant, “but they were not the first scouts we sent to Alcea. I spent over a year in Alcea, and that was two years ago. We have been planning this invasion for some time.”
“Really?” one of the corporals asked excitedly. “Tell us about it.”
Again the sergeant hesitated, but this time the other corporal did not interrupt with any admonishments about the need for secrecy. When the sergeant still hesitated, the first corporal pushed further.
“Two years ago is a long time. Surely, there can be no reason for secrecy at this point. Tell us about Alcea. What are their armies like?”
“And their women?” chuckled the other corporal. “What are they like?”
The sergeant made a point of glancing around the room to see if anyone else was listening to the conversation. While there was no one else listening, his gesture accomplished what he had desired. Both corporals were suddenly aware that they were about to become privy to something secret.
“Their armies are small, but formidable,” the sergeant said softly. “Our generals will stress the small part of that, but we are in for a fight when we get there. The Alceans are a warlike people. Remember, Alcea is about the same size as all of Zara, and it is a single country. That didn’t happen peacefully. Think about the years of warfare something like that would require right here in Zara.”
“The Federation almost covers the entire continent,” frowned one of the corporals. “Isn’t that the same thing?”
“Hardly,” scoffed the sergeant. “The rulers here in Zara are meek compared to the Alceans. They fought bloody wars over there for years. About four years ago, they ended the last war. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers from all over the continent were pitted against one another. Say what you will about the Alceans, but they know how to fight. Even if we do outnumber them, they will give us a decent challenge.”
“Well, we are up for any challenge,” boasted one of the corporals. “The world has never seen an army the size of the Federation. Nothing can stand in our way.”
“I would agree with that,” sighed the sergeant, “if it were not for…”
The sergeant suddenly stopped talking and looked around the room again. He returned his eyes to his mug of ale and stared into it. Several long moments passed by in silence. Eventually, the corporals could not stand the silence.
“Were not for what?” probed one of the corporals.
The sergeant looked up and stared blankly into the face of the questioning corporal. He did not speak.
“Yeah, what is it that you fear to talk about?” pushed the other corporal.
The sergeant’s eyes flicked towards the questioning corporal and then glanced around the room again.
“You will not repeat what I am about to say,” the sergeant said in a soft, but stern voice. “If the officers hear you repeat my words, they will take steps to punish you severely. There are some things about Alcea that they do not want the soldiers to know.”
“We will keep your words to ourselves,” promised one of the soldiers.
The sergeant sighed and hesitated again, but eventually he leaned towards the corporals and spoke softly.
“Beware the dwarves!
One of the corporals blinked as if not believing his ears. “What? What are you talking about? There are no dwarves. There haven’t been any for hundreds of years.”
“He’s playing with us,” the other corporal offered, his voice wavering between humor and fear.
“No one in Zara has seen dwarves for hundreds of years,” the sergeant continued, “but in Alcea it is different. There the dwarves have flourished, and they are the most ferocious of opponents. If you learn nothing else from our chance meeting, learn this. Beware the dwarves!”
“How bad can they be?” asked one of the corporals. “There are only so many things you can do with a sword, and the 21st Corps has many a good swordsman. I don’t think we need to fear dwarf or man. We will have the numbers to overpower anything they can throw at us.”
“Dwarves do not fight with swords,” corrected the sergeant. “They throw axes that will split your armored head in two, but their main weapon is the battleaxe, and most humans couldn’t even lift one. It is a fearsome weapon that can cleave a horse in two, but even worse is their armor. Dwarven armor is magically enchanted to withstand the mightiest blows. Try as you might, you just can’t harm the dwarves. They wade into your ranks, swinging those huge battleaxes around, and there is nothing you can do but run.”
“Surely, that is an exaggeration?” posed one of the corporals.
“I do not think so,” the sergeant replied with a slight shaking of his head. “The stories told in Alcean cities are that King Arik counted each of his dwarves as one hundred men. I didn’t believe those stories at first, but they were repeated in every major city in Alcea. Still skeptical, I visited one of the war burial grounds and asked to see a dwarven tomb. The groundskeeper laughed at me as if I was making a joke. When I assured him that I was serious, he explained to me that not a single dwarf had died during the Great War.”
“A hundred to one?” gasped one of the corporals. “Ten dwarves could take on a whole company? A hundred dwarves could defeat an entire army? I cannot imagine a creature so invincible.”
The sergeant remained silent, his grim f
ace giving credence to the warning. He could see the fear rising across the table from him, and he knew that it was time to move on. He waited patiently for the question that he knew would eventually be asked.
“I hope we don’t run into any of them,” the other corporal said, his voice quaking with fear. “Which lands over there are dwarven?”
“The dwarves are usually found in Sordoa,” answered the sergeant, “just south of Trekum.”
The corporals swallowed hard and stared at each other in alarm.
“That is where we are going!” exclaimed one of the corporals.
Zackary Nolan nodded sympathetically and stood to take his leave. His message was meant explicitly for the men of the 21st Corps, and he smiled inwardly having delivered it properly. He leaned down and whispered once more before turning and leaving.
“Beware the dwarves!”
The sergeant left the tavern and headed for another to continue sowing fear of the dwarves, dwarves that he knew would one day soon be pitted against the men of the 21st Corps. The sergeant had only walked two blocks before a young corporal from the 15th Corps fell in alongside him. The young corporal was one of Zack’s Zaran confederates, and he was also spreading fear about the dwarves.
“How did it go?” the sergeant asked the corporal.
“It went well,” grinned Bork. “By morning the whole garrison will be talking furtively about the possibility of going up against the dwarves.”
“As long as the tales do not make their way to the ears of the officers,” cautioned Zack. “You did warn them that their officers would punish them?”
“I did,” Bork assured the Alcean spymaster.
“Excellent,” smiled the sergeant. “Be off with you to another tavern.”
“There is something else that requires your attention this night,” stated Bork without breaking away from the sergeant’s side. “Cobb thinks he has found that special someone that you have been looking for.”
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