Why do you do this for me?
Alex stiffened and looked at his traveling companions. None of them had spoken. He looked at the unicorn’s head and his eyes met the large gray eyes of the unicorn. To ease your suffering, friend.
You call me friend, but your kind has inflicted my pain. Why do you care?
Alex could see confusion in the unicorn’s eyes. Has no one ever cared for you before? You are beautiful and powerful and have never caused me harm. Why does my aid cause you confusion?
Your kind has never been a friend. You hunt us and kill us and enslave us. Do you care for my wounds so that you may enslave me? If so, you may as well kill me now, for I will never be a slave.
Alex patted the unicorn and called for a campfire to be built. You shall be a slave to no one. I am having a fire made to heat my knife. When the blade glows with heat, I will press it to each of your wounds. This process will close the wounds and allow you to heal. It will bring you some pain, but it will help you to survive. Can I do this for you?
Do as you will. I do not have much longer to live.
Alex seared the wounds and let the unicorn rest. He went for a walk with Jenneva and described the conversation with the unicorn.
“So, they are intelligent beasts,” concluded Jenneva. “It is hard to believe such gorgeous creatures are treated with such scorn from elves.”
“I thought it was interesting that only one side in the conflict had unicorns,” mentioned Alex. “The elves in Glendor would never seek to enslave an animal, nor would they kill them except for food. This unicorn talks as if the elves are his enemy. You were studying the healing arts with Galdan. Is there anything that you can do to restore his strength?”
“I don’t know,” Jenneva admitted. “I am not sure whether the spells will work on a unicorn, but I can try.”
“Good,” chirped Alex. “Let me get some food for him as well, so he can regain his strength.”
Alex and Jenneva walked over to the unicorn and kneeled before his head. I have brought a friend who knows more ways of healing than I do. Her name is Jenneva. Will you allow her to help?
The unicorn stared at the two humans for a while before answering. I am called Kaz. Jenneva may help her friend whose name I do not know.
My name is Alex and my friends are your friends. Alex nodded to Jenneva to try her healing spells. We are not from this world. Perhaps when you are better and before you depart to rejoin your own people, you can share some of your wisdom with us.
Do you really intend to let me go?
Of course I do. When Alexander Tork gives his word, it is never taken back.
Then Alex is truly a friend of Kaz. I will forever be indebted for your aid.
You have incurred no debt, my friend. Rest, and I will bring you food. Alex got up and returned with some elf wafers from his pack. Slowly he fed them to Kaz. The elf wafers were small, but they possessed great nourishment and energy. Alex had tried to find out what they were made of and why they possessed such energy, but the elves would not discuss it.
Leaving Jenneva to her healing arts, Alex went to the campfire and sat. He told the rest of the group about Kaz and the unicorn’s ability to mind speak. Egam was intrigued and left to join Jenneva in tending to the fallen unicorn. Prince Rigal was ashamed for his race’s behavior and had trouble coping with what they had seen of Elderal so far. Prince Tergota seemed disinterested in the whole affair and spent his time checking his armor and sharpening his ax.
Jenneva and Egam spent most of the afternoon tending to the wounded unicorn. By nightfall, Kaz was on his feet although he appeared rather unsteady. Alex had the last watch that night and Kaz wandered over to where Alex was standing sentry.
You fear an attack?
No, Kaz, but we are in a strange land. It is best to be prepared. I have seen what some of these people did to you. Why shouldn’t I expect the same from them?
I am strong enough to return to my people, thanks to you and your friends.
I am glad we were able to help, Kaz. Why do the elves fight against each other?
It has been so for many years. At one time they were united, then the dwarves came and the elves split into two groups. I do not know why they split, but now they fight to control each other. A third group tired of the fighting and moved far away. I am told the third group lives in harmony with my people, but I have never seen this myself. Why are you kind to me? Are you related to this third group?
Alex gazed into Kaz’s eyes. In my homeland, we have animals such as yourself that we call horses. They do not have horns and they do not speak, but men care for them and ride them. They are beautiful animals and men grow very fond of their horses and I believe the horses also grow fond of their riders.
Are they kept penned up and starved as they are here?
Alex flinched as he imagined the treatment that these beautiful creatures must endure. They are sometimes kept inside fences or tied loosely to a tree or post, but it is to keep people from stealing them or to stop them from wandering off and getting lost. Our horses are not as intelligent as your race. They cannot speak. As for starving them, quite the opposite is true. A starving horse is of no use to anyone. A man will keep his horse in good condition, making sure that he is well fed and cared for. The health of the horse is very important. The only time that it is permissible to harm a horse is to kill him when he has been fatally wounded. It is not considered proper to allow your horse to suffer a slow and painful death.
Kaz raised his head and looked into Alex’s eyes. Do you do the same to a man who is fatally wounded?
Yes, of course. No one can take any pleasure from watching any creature die painfully.
So, if horses were as intelligent as men, they would be treated the same?
Alex laughed. In many respects, horses are treated better than men. I have known soldiers who have passed up meals when they were hungry so that their horses would remain healthy. I wish our horses could communicate as you do. I sometimes wonder whether they understand anything when they are being praised for their courage or the good job that they have done.
Kaz snorted and scuffed the dirt with his hoof. Why have you come to this land if you do not belong here?
We have come to try and make the elves and dwarves understand that they have no need for hatred of one another. The elf that accompanies me is Prince Rigal and the dwarf is Prince Tergota. They are enemies, but they travel together to learn the truth about old myths that cause ill feelings between their peoples.
It would appear that you seek to do well to all peoples. That is admirable, Alex. It is time for me to go. May we meet again, friend.
Farewell, Kaz. Travel safely. Alex watched the large unicorn fade into the darkness. Alex was sorry to see him go.
Alex woke the rest of his companions and they started heading east again. After several days, the open plains ended and they entered the forest.
Prince Rigal took the lead in the forest and Alex brought up the rear. Alex was pretty sure of their location, but this forest did not exist in his Universe. It had burned years before and only young trees occupied the area. This was a very mature forest with clearly defined trails.
All of a sudden Prince Tergota, who was walking in second place, tackled Prince Rigal. Prince Rigal started to draw his sword, when he saw the arrow bounce off of the dwarf’s armor. Alex quickly brought the two magicians to the ground and behind the best cover he could find. Alex crawled towards the front of the group.
“Tell me what you saw, Prince Tergota,” Alex demanded.
“Only the glint of light on steel,” the dwarf Prince answered. “That and I recognize a perfect spot for an elf ambush when I see one.”
Alex started to crawl past Prince Rigal when the elf Prince grabbed his arm. “I cannot allow you to kill elves,” Prince Rigal stated.
“And I cannot allow anyone to kill you or Prince Tergota,” declared Alex. “I gave my promise to bring you both back alive. In case you are not aware, that arrow
was aimed at you. You have only Prince Tergota to thank for your life.”
Alex had no real desire to kill any elves, but his first priority was getting his party home safely. “Prince Rigal,” Alex asked, “can you call out to the attackers and find out why they are ambushing us?”
Prince Rigal started a dialog with the hidden attackers, but Alex could detect movement in the bushes. He had no doubt that the elves were surrounding them while they negotiated. He crawled back to Jenneva and Egam and whispered to them to withhold any use of magic unless their lives were threatened. He crawled back up to Prince Rigal to check on the progress of the negotiations.
Prince Rigal was getting nowhere. The attackers were from Dielderal, land of the dark elves, and they demanded that the trespassers surrender.
“Prince Rigal,” cautioned Alex, “if we don’t do something soon, we will be captured. Even as we speak, the attackers are surrounding us. Do you still refuse to fight?”
Before Prince Rigal had the chance to answer, the elves came out of the bushes and demanded the party’s surrender. The elves swarmed onto the path and bound everyone’s hands behind their backs. The elves removed all of the party’s weapons and marched them northward out of the forest. The trip took two hours and the elves were particularly rough with Prince Tergota.
They arrived at the elf camp and were tied to stakes in a standing position. Their weapons and packs were thrown in a heap in front of them. The camp’s leader came out of a tent and conversed with the group of attackers.
After a short period, the leader came over to the captives and reviewed them. He spoke with Prince Rigal, but the chatter was much too fast for Alex to understand. A group of elves crowded around behind the leader and listened to the conversation. The group broke into laughter and the leader spat on Prince Rigal. The leader started walking down the line of captives. When he passed Prince Tergota, the leader viciously punched the dwarf in the face. The dwarf Prince did not give his captors the satisfaction of reacting to the blow and after another punch the leader walked on.
The leader stood in front of Jenneva and made a remark that Alex could not translate. The group behind him roared in laughter again. The leader reached his hand out towards Jenneva and Alex started straining to get free of his ropes. The leader’s hand returned to his side with a stilted motion and the crowd started laughing again. The leader turned and yelled at the crowd, his face dark with fury. The crowd dispersed and the leader shouted something and stormed back to his tent.
I’m sorry, Alex. I could not resist. I could not let him touch me.
Your magic was well timed, Jenneva. You have stopped me from killing an elf. Do you have any idea what he was saying?
You don’t want to know his comments regarding me, but his parting comment was that we are to be executed as spies in the morning.
Alex surveyed the camp. There were probably three hundred elves in the camp. His small group would have no chance of breaking free and escaping unless it could be done magically. Jenneva, is there any chance that you or Egam could use magic to free us during the night?
I don’t see how, Alex. I can move things by looking at them and concentrating, but I can’t look behind me, or behind you, for that matter. Most spells require some movement. I could try controlling one of the elves with Thy Master’s Hand, but I would have to have eye contact with him to get the spell started. I think we are much too far from the campfires for me to execute the spell during the night. Even if one of the guards came over here tonight, I doubt he would keep eye contact with me long enough to get it started. They seem to have different activities for their eyes when they are around me.
Chapter 4
Trekum
Borundi entered the barrister’s office and sat in the chair reserved for clients. The barrister looked up and reached for a stack of papers on the corner of his desk.
“You must be Stafa Rakech,” greeted the barrister.
“Actually, I am but his humble servant,” Borundi replied. “Do you have the paperwork ready?”
“Ah, yes,” stated the barrister. “This is all quite unusual, mind you. Alistar Tergrez was the richest man in the country and the property description of his estate is quite lengthy. Hard to imagine such a wealthy man being murdered by a common thief. And his widow selling his home within a day of the tragic event has really caused us quite a fuss, I can tell you.”
Borundi just smiled. He knew it was not coincidence that the owner of the largest, most lavish home in the city of Trekum should decide to quickly vacate just when Borundi had need of the building. Actually, Borundi corrected himself, when the fictitious Stafa Rakech needed it.
“Do you have authority to consummate the transaction?” the barrister asked.
Borundi handed over a piece of paper to the barrister. “I have my Master’s complete confidence,” he replied.
“Very irregular,” stated the barrister. “Why doesn’t Stafa Rakech sign these papers himself?”
Borundi leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I am sure that I can trust your confidence. Stafa Rakech is never seen in public. In fact, his name is almost never used in documents at all. Most of his holdings are in the name of companies and well chosen associates. He does not like anyone to realize the vastness of his wealth, which is many times greater than Alistar Tergrez could ever have imagined possessing. Perhaps it is the fear of enduring a similar fate. This transaction is special to him, though. The mansion is to be a gift to his only daughter and heir, Miriam Rakech. She has been pestering him for a winter cottage in Trekum.”
“A cottage!” whispered the barrister. “The mansion he is buying is second in size and greatness only to the Royal Palace. To marry his daughter would make some man richer than a king.”
“Yes, quite true,” Borundi declared. “You, of course, will keep this information confidential, I am sure.”
“Certainly,” assured the barrister.
Borundi chuckled as he left the barrister’s office. He anticipated that word of Miriam Rakech would be all over town before he was able to reach the mansion. So far things were falling into place rather nicely. A small cell of Black Devils had been set up and they were recruiting others for the Servants of Sarac group. Those two groups would continue to grow in size while he prepared for the coming of the Empress. Somehow he would have to make sure that Ali Kasim was aware of the potential fortune that would await the suitor of Miriam Rakech.
Borundi strode past the Royal Palace on his way to the market area of Trekum. He gazed at the guards standing before the Palace gates, barring admittance to everyone who was not expected. That was another potential problem he would have to solve, but already the solution was forming within his mind.
Borundi went on a shopping spree in the market, buying expensive and very large items. Furniture and statues for the many rooms of the mansion had top priority. The mansion was completely furnished already, but Borundi was more interested in creating work than he was in redecorating Miriam’s new home. Quite a few times Borundi slipped and let the sellers know that Miriam Rakech, richest single female in the world, was moving into the mansion. Within two hours her name was being talked about all over the city.
Borundi turned and headed for the Royal Palace. At the side gate he stopped to speak with the guards.
“Good morning, Sergeant,” greeted Borundi. “I wonder if you can help me. I am but a humble servant of Stafa Rakech, the new owner of the mansion across the street. My Master has instructed me to purchase many large items for the new home of his only daughter, which chore I have efficiently completed. I am now faced with a very serious problem. My Master’s daughter will be arriving soon and my purchases are still in the market with no means of delivery. Are there perhaps some of your men who could help get these items to the mansion?”
The Sergeant scowled, “Move away from the Palace, servant. My men are warriors and protectors of the Sultan. They have no time for dealing with merchants and servants. Go look in the Poor
Quarter for your helpers. Get away.”
Borundi bowed deeply and accidentally dropped a large gold nugget, equal to three months’ pay for the Sergeant. “I am sorry for troubling you, Sergeant. It appears that I am not even capable of successfully carrying my helpers’ wages.”
Borundi bent down and picked up the gold nugget and held it out to the Sergeant. “Can I at least ask if this nugget is the proper wage for a day’s work for a helper?”
The Sergeant looked at the other guard and quickly grabbed Borundi’s arm, steering him off to the side of the gate. “This nugget is intended as your payment for a helper?”
“Oh, yes,” Borundi answered. “One of them, that is. I am not from this area and do not know the proper wage scale here in Trekum. That is why I have come to the Royal Palace. I know that the Sultan’s Guard will not cheat me and they also will not steal any of the goods that need to be delivered. My Master has entrusted me with a great number of these nuggets so that I may have everything ready for his daughter’s arrival.”
“Perhaps I have been too harsh to one who is not accustomed to things in Trekum,” consoled the Sergeant. “I may be able to find one of the guards who is off duty to help with your problem.”
“Actually, Sergeant,” offered Borundi, “my purchases have been quite extensive. I would need around forty such men.”
“Forty!” scoffed the Sergeant. “That nugget cannot buy forty guards to haul your goods.”
“My apologies for such confusion,” pleaded Borundi. “I would pay each of the forty men with their own nugget. This very nugget rightfully belongs to you, Sergeant, for choosing the right forty men.”
Borundi handed the nugget to the Sergeant. The Sergeant pocketed the nugget and told Borundi to wait for his return. Within moments men began pouring out of the gate. The Sergeant gave them instructions and Borundi paraded his forty new helpers to the market.
Borundi had arranged to have refreshments brought in for his new workers and the guards were busy for most of the day carrying new goods into the mansion and carrying the old goods out. The old goods were supposed to be carried off as trash, but Borundi had no doubt that many of the fine items were being carted off by the guards to be resold later.
Ancient Prophecy Page 4
