Council of War

by Richard S. Tuttle

  "Is that realistic?" asked the general.

  "I think it is," replied Garth. "At some point, the Federation is going to send tens of thousands of men to Alcea. When they do, they will be inadequately staffed here in Zara to maintain their grip over all of the lands. The real question is one of timing. When we do start taking back the countries that they have stolen, those countries must have leaders that the people will rally to. Queen Romani is going to be one of them."

  "Will you be another, King Myer?" asked the queen.

  Chapter 27

  Commanding General

  Sidney Mercado invited his guests to sit around the long table in the dining room. Garth and Kalina sat alongside Sidney on one side, and Queen Romani and General Skye flanked King Myer on the other side of the table.

  "I am loath to leave without a fight," King Myer said to Queen Romani, "but your abdication from Vinafor might sway my mind. What makes you think that you will actually have a chance of returning to power?"

  "Like yourself, King Myer," answered the queen, "I have tried to do my best for the people of my country. While no one can please everyone, I do think that most of my fellow countrymen appreciate what I tried to do. Add to that the fact that the Federation will not treat the people properly, and I think you will find many who are willing to fight for my return. Indeed, a growing underground organization has already begun to flourish."

  "There are many patriots in Tyronia," nodded General Skye, "and they would be willing to fight the Federation. I am not just speaking of soldiers, either. Many of the ranchers and farmers would pick up their swords and join in the fight."

  "But Mectin would be in power," the king shook his head. "We cannot even manage to attack him now. How can we possibly hope to attack him later?"

  The general smiled as the king finally dropped Mectin's title. He realized that the king had just taken a major mental step in disowning his son.

  "There are two things that might allow such a coup," stated the general. "Right now Mectin is barricaded in the Old Keep. While it is a poor excuse for a palace, it is a formidable fortress. Once he gains the throne for himself, I expect his vanity will cause him to occupy the Royal Palace. There he will be vulnerable."

  "And the other?" asked the king.

  "General Forshire," replied General Skye. "Locked away in his head will be the names of many traitors in the army. If we have enough time, we can interrogate him and discover who is faithful to you and who is not."

  "Time," sighed the king. "We do not have time. How much time do you need?"

  "A week," answered the general. "Forshire will resist the interrogation because he knows about the coup that Prince Mectin is planning. He will not give up any information until he has to."

  Garth glanced at Kalina, and she met his gaze for a moment before nodding her willingness to use her magic to retrieve the information from the captured general. Garth nodded in appreciation, but he did not plan to offer that particular solution until all others were ruled out.

  "We cannot stall for a week unless we are willing to engage the Federation in battle," countered the king. "That rules out the choice of abdication."

  "Then I would suggest that we just execute General Forshire," retorted General Skye. "Your life is worth far more to Tyronia than the knowledge about the traitors we could gain from the interrogation."

  "What about taking General Forshire out of the country with you?" suggested Sidney. "Wouldn't that solve both problems?"

  "I don't think King Myer should just flee," interjected Queen Romani. "That would be viewed with great disappointment by the citizens. It is far better to be believed dead."

  "Fake my own death?" frowned King Myer. "How in the world would I accomplish that?"

  "We could use Forshire's body," mused the general. "He is of similar height to the king, but we would have to destroy the face of the corpse. He is thinner than the king, but we could fabricate a story about the king having been ill recently. His public appearances have been few in the last month."

  "And who are we to pin my murder on?" balked the king.

  "Forshire," declared Kalina.

  Everyone stared at Kalina with confusion on their faces.

  Kalina gazed into the king's eyes. "Answer me a question, King Myer. If a solution is found that allows you to appear dead, are you prepared to join the coalition against the Federation?"

  "Without question," the king stated.

  "And you General Skye?" Kalina asked.

  "Me?" frowned the general. "I serve Tyronia by serving King Myer. I am his to dispose of."

  "General Skye's loyalty is unquestionable," declared King Myer.

  "That is not what I was asking," clarified Kalina. "Queen Romani has an able officer in place in Vinafor to help her lead the revolt. I truly believe that you need one, too, but I think General Skye would be killed if he remained behind. The only solution is for him to accompany you to Traginak."

  "What are you planning, Kalina?" Garth asked with a puzzled frown.

  "There is a solution to all of the problems," she answered. "I am a mage, King Myer." She paused to gauge the king's reaction, but he merely looked on with curiosity. "I have the ability to get the information out of General Forshire's mind, but I have a much better use for that information than merely eliminating the traitors. I can take the information and imbed it into Clint's mind. With a slight alteration of his physical appearance, Clint can portray the traitorous general. Forshire's body can be made to appear as the king's body, and Clint can claim to have assassinated the king. His loyalty to Prince Mectin would become unimpeachable. That would leave someone in Tyronia to start building the organization of patriots."

  "Mercy!" exclaimed the king. "You can do that?"

  "She can," nodded Garth, "but I see a problem with the plan. If Clint takes credit for the assassination, no patriot would ever trust him."

  "He is right," agreed General Skye, "but I like the plan nonetheless. We would not only have the information of the current traitors, but Clint would be able to feed us a continual stream of new defections. I can set up a junior officer to start building the patriot group, and Clint can inform that officer of any possible infiltrators."

  "I am beginning to like this idea," smiled Sidney. "Will Clint do it? Can he portray an officer?"

  "He is an officer," stated Garth, "but I will not order him to do such a thing as we are proposing. He must accept the mission willingly."

  "How will we cover the absence of General Skye?" asked the king.

  "It would be safe for the general to be seen fleeing the country after the king's death," answered Garth. "Everyone will know that Prince Mectin will assume the throne, and I suspect that General Skye has not hidden his distaste for the prince very well."

  "I tried," sighed the general, "but you are correct, Garth. It would also be seen as my duty to get the princess safely out of the country."

  "Princess?" questioned Garth. "Is she old enough to ride?”

  "Princess Jeanel," replied Sidney. "And she rides quite well. She is two years younger than Prince Mectin. Even though Tyronia does not recognize females as being able to ascend to the throne, Prince Mectin would probably have her killed just to be sure. She cannot be left behind."

  "Why did you ask about riding?" questioned the general. "The only way out of Tyronia now is by boat."

  "As far as the Federation knows," grinned Garth. "I will reveal that secret later. How much time do we have to set things in motion?"

  "I would say a day at most," answered the general. "While we might have two days, there is too much at risk to cut it too close."

  "Then I think we should bring Clint in here now," stated Garth. "I have much to do with my own people in order to be ready to depart within a day."

  * * *

  General Skye walked into the king's study and found General Forshire sitting in a chair before the desk. Behind the desk was the body of King Myer, his face a smoldering ruin, and a sword sticking out of his
chest. On the desk sat a flask with a small amount of acid still in the bottom of it.

  "It would appear that you are ready," General Skye said as he closed the door.

  "It is the appointed time," nodded General Forshire. "Are you sure all of the palace guards will run away?"

  "Positive," nodded General Skye. "Every one of them is already a member of the patriots, and the duty roster for today no longer exists. Mectin will never know who was supposed to be on duty tonight. When I appear with the princess, every one of them will flee the grounds. No one will attempt to arrest you."

  "Does the princess know?" asked General Forshire.

  "No," General Skye shook his head. "As terrible as it sounds, I want her to act the part of a grieving daughter. We must be seen leaving the harbor, and her life might depend upon what she says and does. You will need to be out of this room when she comes by. She is a courageous woman, but she can be stubborn at times."

  "I hope you are right about not telling her," frowned General Forshire. "It should take you about an hour to get to the rendezvous point. I will dally in the palace for a while to make sure that you are clear of the city."

  "That could be dangerous for you," warned General Skye. "Should a messenger arrive with a message for the king, everything could come down on you in a hurry."

  "Then let's not delay," replied General Forshire. "Get the princess and flee."

  General Skye smiled thinly at General Forshire. "You are a brave man, Clint. I hope we have the chance to meet again when this is all over."

  "So do I," General Forshire returned the smile.

  General Skye moved out of the study and closed the door. He made his way straight to the sleeping chamber of Princess Jeanel. He opened the door without knocking and found the princess in bed. She didn’t stir as he lit a lantern and illuminated the room, so he let the door to the closet slam against the wall as he opened it and pulled out a dark cloak with a hood attached.

  "What are you doing?" she shouted with alarm. "Get out of my room."

  The general turned around and tossed the cloak to the princess. "Keep your voice down," he warned. "The king has been murdered. I am to get you out of the country immediately."

  The general turned his back to give the princess some privacy. For several moments she stared at his back with disbelief.

  "I don't believe you," she eventually said, but she kept her voice down.

  "Believe me or not," the general said, "I know that your father told you that I was to get you out of the city if anything happened to him. I am now trying to do so. We have very little time before Prince Mectin sends men to kill you. Will you get dressed and come quickly, or must I carry you over my shoulder?"

  The general could tell by the sounds behind him that the princess was already getting dressed.

  "I want to see his body," she said softly. "I must know if he is alive or dead."

  "There isn't time," retorted the general.

  "Then make time," countered the princess. "I will not leave this palace quietly without seeing it for myself."

  The general sighed and nodded. He heard the princess walking, and he turned around to find her wearing the cloak.

  "Pull the hood close about your face," instructed the general as he turned out the lantern and opened the door.

  "What other woman would be slinking around the palace at night with the general?" asked the princess.

  "We are leaving by boat," replied the general as he checked the corridor and waved her out of the room. "That means that we need to go through the city. Keep your face covered."

  The princess exited the room, and the general led the way towards the king's study. When he arrived at the study the general cracked open the door. The princess pushed her way into the room and halted. She starred at the mutilated face and gasped for breath. The general quickly put his arm around her as her body began to sway.

  "Courage," he whispered. "You know that he would demand that of you. Calm down," he added as the young woman kept gasping. "Take a deep breath and visualize his smiling face, not what is before you."

  Princess Jeanel sobbed as she tried to hold back her emotions. She turned and buried her face in the general's chest. He comforted her for a moment and then pushed her to arm's length.

  "Be steady," he said comfortingly. "We have to move quickly to get you to safety."

  "I want the assassin found," snarled the princess. "Take me where you are supposed to, but I want your promise that you will come back and deliver justice to the foul beast that did this."

  "I swear to spend the rest of my days seeking justice for the treachery brought to Tyronia," declared General Skye. "Now we must go."

  The general cursed himself for putting the princess through the ordeal, but he knew that it was necessary. She offered no resistance as he led her out of the study and closed the door. As they exited the palace, the guards turned and ran.

  "Where are they going?" scowled the princess. "Have they no loyalty at all? Why aren't they searching for the killer?"

  "Quiet," the general said softly. "Do not let anyone hear your voice."

  They moved quickly to the stables and mounted the horses that the general had already readied. He instructed her to ride swiftly to the harbor and then matched her pace. The hour was late, but not everyone in the city was asleep. Those who were out and about turned to watch as the riders raced past them. As the wind tore at the princess' cloak, more than one citizen saw the tear-stained face of Jeanel. The general knew that word would spread quickly. He urged the princess to ride faster.

  The harbor area of Ur was the busiest of the city, and the riders caused large groups of people to turn and stare at them. The general knew that this was the riskiest part of the escape. He had planted several men along the wharf just in case it was needed. One of those men saw the riders approaching, and he hurried out onto a dock. While everyone was watching the general lift the princess off her horse, the man on the dock slipped the dock lines off one of the small boats and held the vessel steady with his foot.

  "That's the princess!" shouted a man as the general stepped onto the boat and pulled the princess to him.

  The general's man stepped away and leaned against a piling as if he were just watching the event like everyone else. The general pushed the boat away from the dock with a strong push and began to raise the sails.

  "Pull back your hood," the general said to the princess. "Let them see you now."

  The princess frowned at the request, but she complied. A shiver of sympathy coursed through the general's body as he saw the princess' face. Her eyes were swollen, and her cheeks were tear-stained, but she moved quickly to raise the forward sail. As the wind began to fill the sails, a crowd of citizens crowded along the wharf to watch it sail away. The general kept looking back toward the city, but no other vessels left port to chase them. He sighed with relief and looked at the princess.

  "You may hate me for this," he said softly, "but I have lied to you."

  "What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.

  "Your father is not dead," declared the general. "I knew that people would see us riding through the city, and I wanted them to believe that the king is dead. Forgive me."

  "What are you saying?" asked the princess. "I saw him in the study."

  "It was not him," replied the general. "He is waiting for you around the bend on the shore. He is fleeing the country with you."

  "He is not dead?" she echoed, her stained face beaming with joy.

  * * *

  The soldier raced through the Old Keep until he came to the door of the prince's sleeping chamber. Two guards stood outside the door, and the soldier slid to a halt.

  "I must speak with the prince immediately," the soldier panted.

  "Don't think so," one of the guards shook his head. "He doesn't like to be disturbed in bed."

  "I have important news that cannot wait," retorted the solider.

  "What news?" asked the guard.

  "So you can
tell him?" scowled the soldier. "I am not a fool. It pays to be noticed, and I intend to deliver the news."

  "Then do so in the morning," shrugged the guard.

  "If I must," snarled the soldier, "I will, but I will also mention who refused to allow me to tell him sooner when he might have been able to do something."

  "What is the news?" demanded the second guard. "Tell us, and if it is urgent, you will be allowed in."

  The soldier hesitated a moment, but he eventually nodded. "The princess is fleeing the city."

  The guard banged heavily on the door and then opened it. The soldier darted through the guards, and they made no attempt to stop him. Prince Mectin sat up in bed and shielded his eyes from the light entering through the door.

  "This better be good," he snarled.

  "Your sister is fleeing the city," reported the soldier. "She was just seen at the docks getting into a boat. She had a hooded cloak, but some of us saw her anyway."

  The prince didn't reply. He rubbed his eyes and swung his legs out of the bed. The soldier's eyes widened as he saw the young girl in bed beside the prince, but he didn't say anything.

  "Light a lantern," ordered the prince as he rose and began getting dressed.

  The soldier lit a lantern, and the prince pulled his boots on.

  "Was she alone?" asked Prince Mectin.

  "No," answered the soldier. "General Skye was with her."

  "Skye?" echoed the prince. "What is he up to? Does he know what is coming?"

  "I don't know," answered the soldier.

  "Shut up," scowled the prince. "I wasn't asking you. Get out."

  The soldier looked as if he had been slapped, but he scurried out of the room. The prince waved the two guards into the room.

  "Get rid of her," he waved towards the bed, "and then send someone up to the palace. I want to know if my father is aware that the princess is fleeing the city. Be subtle about it."

  The two soldiers moved into the room, as the prince strode out. He was walking towards his study when General Forshire appeared before him. The prince stopped walking and stared at the general with narrowed eyes.