Jenneva raised her head and answered. “He found Cordonian coins on the dead Black Devils. He is going to kill President Mitchel. A trip that means almost certain death.”
“He is not even aware that the war has begun and that Cordonian forces have already attacked Targa,” sighed General Gregor. “The Presidential Palace will be sealed up tight now.”
“Why don’t you follow him, Jenneva?” asked Lord Habas. “He would no more harm King Byron than he would you.”
“There is no point,” conceded Jenneva. “If I defy him and try to help him, he will stubbornly defy me and counter my help with more brazen acts until he dies.”
“Why?” questioned the King. “Why throw his life away on such a worthless piece of trash?”
“I have seen it a few times before, Your Highness,” replied General Gregor. “The bigger the heart, the harder it snaps. Alex’s whole life has been fighting those monsters who serve misery on innocent people. He has had enough of it and plans to strike a blow to the enemy before they cause more misery. It hardly matters that the blow is only symbolic. What matters is that he strikes savagely and ruthlessly at the deliverers of misery and death. President Mitchel’s death is Alex’s cure.”
Larc walked over and laid his hand on Jenneva’s shoulder. “Have faith in him, Jenneva. Alex is a man of many talents. While you also have many talents and could do more damage than he, this is one task that you cannot help him with. This one he must do alone.”
The old man sat in the dark corner of the common room at the Dusty Trail Inn eating a plate of pork and beans and sipping occasionally at his mug of ale. He had been as solitary as a piece of the furnishings for the better part of the day. The common room still held the scent of fresh pine even though the smells of food, drink and smoke permeated the air. Other signs proved the thought that the inn was a relatively new structure. The tables held few of the dents and scratches that collect over a period of years and the benches had no noticeable wear. The mugs were not chipped and the curtains showed no fading.
The old man nibbled on another piece of pork and savored the flavor, watching the comings and goings of the establishment’s staff. He long ago gave up watching the patrons. They held no special appeal rather, they were like travelers the world over, tired and hungry when they came in, tired and drunk when they retired for the night.
The traveler pulled his hood low around his face and stood, dropping a few coins on the table. The ringing sound of the coins brought the innkeeper over quickly. “Sir? I hope your meal was satisfactory?”
“I am weary and require a room for the night, a private room where I can sleep in solitude.”
The innkeeper looked down at the coins and smiled. “Yes, sir. Right away, sir. Top of the stairs, first door on your left. No one will disturb you tonight. No, sir, they won’t”
The traveler pressed another coin into the innkeeper’s hand. “I’m sure they won’t.”
The old man hobbled up the stairs and found his room. For several hours he rested comfortably and rose in the middle of the night when the inn had gone silent. He grabbed his few belongings and stepped out into the hallway. Stealthily moving towards the door at the top of the stairs, he kept his ears alert for any sounds that would indicate human movement. Satisfied that he was alone, he slowly opened the door, which he had seen the Black Devils using from his position in the common room.
The private room looked very similar to his own except for the additional door on the far wall. He quietly closed the door to the hallway and crossed the room to the other door. Gently pulling the door open, he peered into the gloom. Seeing no activity beyond the door, he slipped through and started down the stairs of the stone tower. As he emerged out of the tower he reflected on the bitter taste of the dusty wind-blown soil. The land around the Dusty Trail Inn had been quite green and lush when he entered.
Satisfied that he had entered Sarac’s Universe, the old man moved off towards the lone creature, which appeared to be awake. Pulling his hood tightly around his face as if to ward off the wind, he walked over and sat in the ogre’s cart. Seeing the numerous ruts of the carts leading off in one particular direction, the traveler pointed in that direction and grunted to the ogre. The ogre picked up the cart and started moving across the barren landscape.
Several hours later the ogre stopped the cart and the old man got out. “Which way is the Junction?” he asked.
The ogre looked quizzically at the black robed figure, but still he pointed the way. The old man raised his hand and pointed at the ogre and the creature fell down and appeared to sleep. The traveler marched up the path the ogre had indicated and passed into a Universe that had recently been green and lush, but now was withered by some unknown blight.
Chapter 16
Penetration
Alex peered out of the warehouse in the waterfront area of Kantor and watched while the Cordonian patrol marched past the Harbormaster’s office. There were far too many soldiers on the streets and Alex reflected on the tight security he had run into in Trekum. He could not see the Presidential Palace from this vantage point and he needed to get away from the docks in order to mount his attack anyway, but he had to avoid the patrols or he would lose the battle in the opening skirmish.
Kaz, I need a diversion. I want you to hide your horn and run down the street. Make a lot of noise and let the soldiers follow you, but don’t let them catch you. I am going to head in the opposite direction and find a place to hide. Come to me when you are no longer being followed.
Kaz nodded his large head and pranced proudly out into the night, neighing loudly. Alex considered what a beautiful horse he appeared to be, a prize for any man. Kaz moved to the main street of Kantor and began gathering the attention of the patrols. Alex could hear the shouts and cries emanating from the soldiers, each of them scrambling to be the one to capture the prize. The noise started to fade into the distance and Alex stepped out of the warehouse and quickly made his way across the main street.
Alex heard the soldiers returning to their proper sectors by the time he reached Secor’s shop. Alex tried the rear door to the shop and found it locked. He rapped lightly on the door and got no response. Checking the surrounding buildings for stray eyes, he knocked louder. Still no response. Alex produced a slim dagger and froze as he heard noise at the end of the alley. Quickly he shifted into the shadows and waited. The noise, still indistinct, halted as if it, too, was waiting to pick up a sound. The air was damp and low clouds of mist floated through the alley obstructing Alex’s vision, still, he remained motionless, his breath shallow.
One noise, just a single thump, and it was closer now. Something was definitely in the alley. Kaz?
Yes, Alex.
Alex stepped out, saw his friend, and waved him to his side. Quietly, he returned to the door and worked his dagger into the slit in the wood. With a gentle snap, the door swung slowly and Alex let Kaz and himself into the painter’s shop. Alex looked around and noticed a pastry on the table. Hard as a rock, it had been sitting there for several days at least. He stuck his finger into the cup of partially devoured tea and felt a covering of mold.
Kaz, this shop belongs to a friend. His name is John Secor and I believe that if he is alive we will find him in the Palace. If he finds you, get him to safety. Now, I am going to need a ride through the night sky. I want you to drop me on the roof of the Presidential Palace. Stay there while it is safe or until John finds you. If you are noticed, leave and don’t come back. Understand?
Perfectly, Alex. Your instructions are always clear. Good luck.
Alex led Kaz back out into the alley and closed the door. Gracefully, he leaped up onto the unicorn’s back and Kaz quietly took to the dark sky. Alex shook off an eerie feeling as the dark shapes of rooftops silently slid by. He soundlessly tapped Kaz on one shoulder or the other to guide him to the Presidential Palace.
The black shape of a rooftop gave way to a large, open area and Alex could see the torches lining the driveway of the
Palace. The grounds were well illuminated and he would never have been able to sneak in as he had done in Trekum. Alex had a very limited knowledge of the interior of the Palace. He had only seen a half dozen rooms the last time he was here, but it was enough to give him a general layout of the Palace. He knew of at least two staircases and he was sure which wing the President stayed in.
With a tap, Kaz brought them lower until he was able to stand on the roof of the Palace. Alex gently lowered himself to the roof and crouched near the edge of the inner courtyard. Two soldiers stood on one side of the open courtyard talking. They would become a problem if Alex could not find an access door to the floors below. Slowly, he moved in a crouch towards the President’s wing of the building. Alex positioned himself over the area where the staircase should be if the two wings of the Palace were of the same design. For Oscar’s wedding he had slept in the other wing and knew the general layout fairly well.
Getting down on his hands and knees he felt the roof for a seam. A few feet to one side his hand ran over a rough spot. Alex pulled out a dagger and sliced diagonal lines across the rough spot and heard the clink of metal on metal. He dug with his dagger and unearthed a round ring attached to the roof. Alex removed a coil of rope from his shoulder and tied one end to the ring. He motioned Kaz over and held the section of rope up so Kaz could get a bite on it.
Gently and slowly, Kaz.
Kaz put tension on the rope and slowly started backing up. The roof started to creak and Kaz froze. Alex ran his hands over the roof and felt a large square section of the roof that was slightly higher than the rest, but Kaz was in the wrong position to open the hatch. He motioned for Kaz to move to a different position in relation to the ring and continue. Kaz put more pressure on the rope and the hatch produced a loud sucking noise as the cover broke free from the rest of the roof. Kaz halted again and Alex stuck his hands into the crack that had appeared at the edge of the hatch. The hatch had not been used in many years, but once the seal was broken it came up easily.
Alex raised the hatch cover and peered down into the darkness. He could barely make out the dim outline of the hall and the stairway. In the other wing, there had been a ladder going up the wall to what Alex had recognized as a roof access. Now he knew why this hatch had been so tight, access to the roof was gained by the other wing. Alex removed his large hooks and laid them on the roof keeping only one small one with him. He measured off a short length of rope and handed it up to Kaz. Kaz took a bite on the rope and Alex lowered himself into the Presidential Palace.
Kaz, I am leaving the hatch open. If someone notices it, take off. Pull the rope up when it goes slack. I’ll tell John, if he is here, to mentally call to you. If he comes, lower this rope back down. Goodbye friend.
Not goodbye, Alex. I’ll be waiting for you.
Alex lowered himself to the floor below and released the rope. He crouched and gathered up the debris that had fallen from the hatch and shoved it into a pouch. With a piece of cloth he whisked the small pieces around so they would not be evident. Unless somebody looked directly up or it started to rain, no one would notice the hatch was open. Alex worked his way down the hall checking each room for any signs of life. When he reached the end he returned to the central staircase and started down the hall in the other direction.
The first room had a body in the bed and Alex crept across the carpet to stand next to the bed. On the chair next to the bed was the distinctive black cloak used by the Black Devils. Alex placed his hand firmly over the man’s mouth and plunged his dagger into the man’s heart. As soon as the body went limp, Alex grabbed the black cloak and threw it over the man’s chest to cover the seeping wound. Continuing down the hallway, Alex found three more rooms occupied by Black Devils and dispatched each in a similar fashion.
Creeping down the stairs to the second floor, Alex realized that there must be quite a few Black Devils in residence at the Presidential Palace for Mitchel to be housing them in the President’s wing. The other wing had ten rooms on each of the three floors, allowing for housing thirty Black Devils if they were all one to a room. Alex’s eyes widened before he reached the second floor. This floor had only one door, directly opposite the staircase, and there was a soldier sitting outside of it.
Alex let his legs go out from under him and lowered himself prone on the staircase. Peering through the railing, he could see that the soldier was barely awake, struggling in the dim corridor to keep from falling asleep. The torches provided enough light to navigate to the staircase, but not enough to really see anything. Alex reached for a reed and a myric quill and silently shifted his weight so that he was lying on his left side. Breathing softly, Alex let fly with the quill, sending it across the corridor into the soldier’s throat. Quickly, Alex scrambled to his feet as the soldier’s body began to list to one side. The Ranger Colonel reached the soldier just as he started to slide off the chair.
Alex repositioned the man in his chair and moved to the door. Gently trying the door handle, he felt the plunger depress and cracked the door slightly open. Peering through the crack, he opened the door just enough for him to slide into the room. The room was massive and two men slept on couches next to one of the doorways. Alex stealthily walked over to them. With two more myric quills he extinguished both Black Devils at the same time. The suite branched off in two directions and Alex guessed that the President lay beyond the two sleepers, so he went the other way first to make sure he was not surprised from behind.
It turned out to be a sound strategy as the next room held four more Black Devils. Alex frowned when he saw that there should be five men. One of the beds was mussed up but held no magician. There was another door at the other end of the room and Alex kept an eye on it as he used myric quills on the sleeping men. He was on the third man when the Black Devil walked through the doorway. He quickly tossed a Lanoirian Star at the walking man and pulled his dagger with his other hand. The Lanoirian Star sailed true and struck the Black Devil in the throat and his gurgle was loud enough to alert the last sleeping man, who rolled off his bed and came up off the floor with a sword.
Alex rolled across the bed and brought the dagger up under the man’s sword arm and pierced his heart. Alex froze and listened for any other sounds as he lowered the magician into the bed. After a few moments, the Ranger moved to the doorway and peered in. The room was a small kitchen and nobody else seemed to be in the mood for a late night snack.
Retracing his path to the center of the suite where he had entered, Alex peered through the last doorway. Sprawled on an enormous bed was a figure who had to be President Mitchel. Alex stepped over to the figure and drew his sword, placing the tip snugly against the man’s throat.
“You will be able to breathe lightly and live for a while longer, but a deep breath or a loud voice will end your life quickly,” Alex whispered.
Mitchel’s eyes popped open in fear and Alex saw his arm move.
“I should also point out that any movement, like flexing a finger, will cause me to push this sword clear through to your pillow. It won’t be very pleasant.”
“What do you want?” the Cordonian President whispered.
Alex saw the President’s eyes dart towards the door. “Nobody is coming. They are all dead. Their magic failed. Where is John Secor?”
“Cell in basement,” Mitchel whispered. “Who are you?”
Alex ignored the question. “Your men took something that belongs to me from Atar’s Cove. Where is it?”
“You’re Jenneva’s boyfriend?” breathed the President and Alex put more pressure on the sword. “All right! I sent it to Sarac already...by courier.”
“What did you send to Sarac?” demanded Alex.
The President’s eyes were puzzled. “Book...the Book of the Beginning.”
“What about the baby?” gritted Alex.
“Baby?” rasped President Mitchel. “No baby...only the book...Dalgar did not mention any baby.”
“How do I get to the basement and unlock the ce
ll?” inquired Alex.
Alex saw the President’s eyes flash at the desk next to the bed. “Straight down the stairs,” pleaded the President. “I will take you.” When Alex followed his gaze, Mitchel tried to bring his other hand up.
Alex shoved his sword through the President’s throat and pillow and into the bed. He wiped his sword on the sheets and went over to the desk. In the drawer was a set of keys. Alex pocketed the keys and made his way to the stairway. Peering down the stairs to the first floor, Alex detected no movement. Slowly, he descended the steps to the first floor and continued down to the basement.
The door at the bottom of the stairs was probably locked and surely would have a guard on the other side who could use the peer hole to see who was coming. Alex backtracked to the Presidential Suite and liberated a black robe and hood. He quickly donned the garments and quietly returned to the basement door. In another hour it would start to get light and he was taking too long to accomplish his task.
Alex pulled the hood down to hide his face and examined the keys for one the same size as the lock. Not wanting to sound like someone who was unfamiliar with the keys, he held the three possible keys between different fingers so that he could try them all in a short period of time. The second key clicked in the lock and Alex let the door swing open.
Suddenly, the guard pulled the door open and peered into Alex’s face. Using the only weapon he could quickly utilize, Colonel Tork shoved the key into the guard’s eye and pushed the man into the basement wall. The guard was stunned as Alex pulled a dagger and sliced the man’s throat.
Alex stiffened at the sound of the voice. “Bravo, Colonel Tork. You do not earn your reputation from idle boasting. Welcome to Kantor.”
Alex looked up and down the corridor and could not place the voice. Finally, he looked deep into the shadows of the nearest cell and saw the man near the rear wall. Alex turned and closed the basement door before anyone noticed it open. Returning to the cell he peered into the darkness.
Ancient Prophecy Page 19
