Council of War

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Council of War Page 39

by Richard S. Tuttle


  "You are like a dog with its teeth on a bone," chuckled the baron. "Do you really think you can raise twenty thousand fighters from the castoffs of the Federation?"

  "I must," answered Garth. "I don't think Alcea can defeat the Federation alone, and neither can the horse countries. Survival for both of our peoples depends upon our cooperation with one another."

  Baron Stikman set down his mug of ale and slowly gazed at each of the warriors at the table. He nodded slowly and smiled.

  "You just might do it," he said. "I wonder what kind of people you Alceans must be to take a woman into battle with only knives."

  "My knives struck home," Natia said defensively.

  "I know they did," the baron replied with a grin. "That was my point. You not only showed extraordinary courage by your actions, but the fact that the others allowed you out there with them shows their great confidence in your abilities. Each of you has shown remarkable skill today." The baron's eyes drifted to Tedi. "I saw this one batting away those yaki as a boy would toss a stone across the street. There wasn't much left of them, either."

  "My name is Tedi," replied the gypsy prince, "and Natia is my wife."

  "Well met, Tedi and Natia," the baron said as he turned his eyes towards Shawn.

  "Shawn Cowen," the Ranger declared.

  "Well met, Shawn," replied the baron. "I assume that Kalina was responsible for the magic display that bought us some valuable minutes out there. I heard about her magical duel with Sven. Come to Herinak, Garth. See for yourself what my people are defending. I think you will get a greater appreciation of what you are asking us to do with this Council of War."

  "We will come to Herinak," promised Garth, "but not until we are ready to present you with a plan. While I will get an appreciation for what you are defending, I will also present you with the need for the council."

  "Fair enough," nodded the baron as he rose to his feet. "Herinak will host the next meeting and give you a chance to present your case."

  Baron Stikman made for the door to the street just as Kalina was entering the common room. He bowed respectfully to her and exited the building. Kalina came over to the table and slid next to Garth. She sighed from weariness and took a sip of Garth's ale.

  "Most of them will live," she offered. "Their chain mail saved a lot of them. What was the baron talking about?"

  "Offering his praise and an invitation to Herinak," Garth replied as Max Caber entered the room and hurried to the table.

  "What did I miss?" asked the Ranger.

  "Just a battle with ogres and yaki," answered Natia.

  "Where have you been that you have not heard about the fighting?" asked Garth.

  "I was following Fakir Aziz," replied Max. "He stole four of the unicorns."

  "Did you get them back?" asked Garth.

  "No." The Ranger shook his head. "I caught up to him, but he said that he wasn't stealing them. He said if Kalina was their owner, he would return them to her."

  "Interesting," frowned Kalina. "Why me?"

  "He asked me if I was their owner," answered the Ranger. "I replied that you obtained the mounts for us. I might have made a mistake in talking to him, Kalina. He called you Jenneva when he made that statement. I am afraid that I might have slipped up. I apologize."

  Kalina stared at the table while Garth asked about the unicorns the old man had taken. When the conversation had a lull, she looked up at the Ranger.

  "Where was Fakir Aziz going?"

  "I am not sure," frowned Max. "I tracked him through the trees to the northwest of the city and finally caught sight of him on the grasslands beyond. When I did catch up to him in the stand of trees, he appeared to be waiting for me. We had our little talk and he left. Shortly after that, I lost him. He just disappeared. I just couldn't strike him down to get the unicorns back. I'm sorry."

  "I would not have wanted you to strike him," replied Kalina. "No one steals unicorns. They went with him because they wanted to."

  "You mean he knew that they were unicorns?" asked Natia.

  "That is why he pressed on about ownership," nodded Kalina. "He knew that he could not be accused of stealing something that no one can own. Fakir Aziz is a very clever man. How far away from the city were you when you lost him?"

  "A couple of hours of easy riding," answered Max. "Is that important?"

  "Yes," answered Kalina. "During the battle there was a mage in the Forest of Death. I was curious if it might have been Fakir Aziz."

  "He could have flown to the Forest of Death in mere minutes," declared Natia. "A couple of hours riding is not that much when flying."

  "You think Fakir might be a mage?" questioned Shawn.

  "That would explain a few things," frowned Karl Gree, "like how he moved through the Forest of Death without trouble. He also told me that I have a gift, and he helped me explore it."

  "What gift?" asked Kalina.

  "The ability to see things that the eyes cannot see," answered Karl. "It is hard to explain, but I seem to be able to sense things that are not in my line of sight. He suggested that I have been using the gift forever without understanding what I was doing. He said that was one of the things that made me such a great hunter."

  "Perhaps we should ride out for a couple of hours and pick up the trail of Fakir Aziz," stated Garth.

  "No," Kalina shook her head. "We don't need the unicorns. Those were the mounts for the Tyronians. I heard talk that they will go to Herinak now that Traginak has been attacked. They will have no need of mounts. Let's return to our room at the castle. I could use some rest."

  Garth nodded and rose. Kalina joined him, and they bade farewell to the other Alceans. They walked across the courtyard and into the castle. Many of the Zaroccans smiled and waved to them as they passed by, but no one demanded that they stop and talk. When they got into their suite, Kalina threw herself on the bed with a heavy sigh.

  "Maybe I should let you sleep," Garth said when he saw how tired she was.

  "I will sleep soon enough," replied Kalina. "I wanted to talk to you alone."

  "About the mage in the forest?" asked Garth. "I sensed that you wanted to say more."

  "That and other things," replied Kalina. "I do not think it is a coincidence that the ogres made their first attack on Traginak while we just happened to be here."

  "You think that they were targeting us?" frowned Garth.

  "Yes," nodded Kalina, "or at least our deaths would have been a bonus for those ordering the attack. I think Sven had a way of communicating with those outside the horse countries. I think he reported the presence of the eleven Alceans in Traginak, and perhaps your appearance as the twelfth before he knew who you were. His failure to follow that up with another report of successful executions must have tipped off our enemies to his demise."

  "If there are mages driving the ogres and yaki," frowned Garth, "we must inform the king. It may well change the strategies necessary to defend the country."

  "Perhaps," mused Kalina, "but it gets murkier. We know that the Federation is using Doors now. They could easily plant some of those in the fringe areas of the Forest of Death. The attack of their armies could well come as a nasty surprise."

  "I agree," nodded Garth, "but I sense a hesitancy within you. What is the problem with informing the Zaroccans?"

  "The Federation knows that we are up here," explained Kalina. "If they use the portals to attack up here, they cannot be sure that we won't relay that information to Alcea. They no longer have a fleet capable of delivering their armies to Alcea."

  "But we have already done that," retorted Garth. "At least we have if Runt made it all the way."

  "Yes, but does the Federation know that? As long as they are unsure of our abilities to communicate with Alcea, they cannot afford to use portals to attack up here. The best they can do is send in the creatures from the Forest of Death."

  "So what you are saying is that if we tell the Zaroccans what they are really up against, we might inadvertently cause a full-s
cale Federation attack?"

  "Exactly," nodded Kalina. "No one up here suspected Sven. How many more spies might be imbedded in the horse countries?"

  "Do you think Fakir Aziz is one of them?"

  "No," smiled Kalina. "I think Fakir Aziz is an old friend of ours. I can't imagine for a moment that Max would slip with my real name. He is too well trained for such a blunder."

  "Egam?" gasped Garth. "How could we just stumble upon him like that? I do not believe in coincidences."

  "We didn't stumble upon him, and our meeting was not a coincidence. He sought us out."

  "Do you mean when you destroyed the shipyards in Giza?" asked Garth. "Did he sense your vibrations or something like that?"

  "He was with us long before that," answered Kalina. "Do you remember the dreams you had about coming to Zara?"

  "I had those in Alcea," frowned Garth. "Fakir Aziz was unheard of at that point."

  "But Smokey wasn't," Kalina pointed out. "Your dreams started when that dog found your fishing boat. Isn't that true?"

  Garth frowned heavily and nodded. "What happened when Smokey died?"

  "I suspect that Egam found a way to inhabit another life form, but it was that of a dog. I cannot say for sure as my studies have not dealt with such things, but when Smokey took that arrow aimed at you, he was dooming himself until another life form came along. I suspect it was only chance that Fakir Aziz had a heart attack at that very moment in that very place. Egam would never take a life to perpetuate his own existence."

  "So Fakir Aziz is truly what he says he is, but he is now also Egam?"

  "I believe so," nodded Kalina. "I think he was able to enter Fakir's body at the moment of death."

  "Why wouldn't he just come out and tell us who he was?" asked Garth.

  "Egam is on a different path than we are," stated Kalina. "We are fighting the Federation, but he has Alutar to contend with. He had his own reasons for coming to Zarocca, and I suspect that is where he is heading now. Besides, I think he did tell us who he is. No one in this part of the world knows who Jenneva Tork is."

  "Still," frowned Garth, "it would have been nice if he could have helped us a bit."

  Kalina sat up and stared at Garth for a moment. Her eyes widened in curiosity as she rose from the bed and walked around behind Garth. Garth started to turn to see what she was looking at, but she turned him away.

  "He has been helping us," Kalina said with surprise. "Your sword has several additional enchantments on it other than the ones I put there. One of them is a tracking spell similar to the ones he used on Tedi's necklace and Niki's cloak. I wonder what his keyword is for you?"

  "What is the other enchantment?" asked Garth.

  "I do not know," answered Kalina. "I have not seen it before. Remind me tomorrow to check the weapons of the others. Fakir Aziz had time alone with them as well."

  "Tracking us is hardly helping us," Garth said with disappointment.

  "We seldom need help," smiled Kalina as she moved back to the bed. "Besides, he has been helping in subtle ways. Besides Karl's gift, he also steered Karl's group away from Sebastian Pass where they surely would have been captured."

  "Yet he didn't save the life of Alando."

  "Karl turned him away," Kalina reminded Garth. "Perhaps if he had not, Alando would still be alive. I am sure he healed Lyron, and he warned me about Sven. And the dreams," she added. "Don't forget about the dreams."

  "You're right," Garth conceded. "I guess I am just hurt that he wouldn't reveal himself to us, as if we were untrustworthy."

  "I think he was wise to let it remain a secret," countered Kalina. "We would have been tempted to ask so many questions that our minds would have been distracted from the tasks at hand. In fact, let's keep this knowledge secret from the others, at least for now. We have enough to worry about."

  * * *

  The cabin sat in a small patch of woods in the remote section of upper Zarocca near the headwaters of the Traginak River. It wasn't much of a cabin to look at, but the roof didn't leak, and the trees provided an effective windbreak from the blustery cold winds that swept down off the mountains of the Barrier. The cabin had no windows, and the front door fit snugly when it was closed, which wasn't very often. Outside the cabin were four huge dogs that were gentle as lambs until someone other than the owner of the cabin came near. On those rare occasions the dogs became fierce protectors of the area. They snarled and growled and gnashed their teeth as if they wanted to tear your flesh off your bones. The few hunters in the area had learned to give a wide berth to Zynor's cabin, and strangers seldom came this far up the river, but Zynor was not a lonely man.

  Zynor had devoted his life to studying plants and animals, and he considered them his friends. Not all of them returned that friendship, but Zynor understood that there would always be conflict of one sort or another. It never slowed him down on his endless quest to learn everything there was to learn about his friends. While some had once considered him the smartest man in the world when it came to plants and animals, Zynor knew that his quest was still far from over. That was the way he preferred it to be because he knew that once the quest was fulfilled, his life would end.

  While Zynor was inside the cabin taking his time over a meal of honey and apples, the four dogs outside sensed something in the forest. They rose agitated and began to prowl the clearing that the cabin stood in, their noses high and sniffing the air. Shapes moved in the darkness, and the dogs noticed it right away, but they didn't snarl, and they didn't growl. Instead they cocked their heads in unison and stared in wonder as an old man led four horses out of the trees. Actually, he didn't really lead them as he didn't hold their reins, but they followed him nevertheless. The dogs laid down quietly and stared at the old man. As he passed by, he bent down and patted each of them. The dogs rolled over on their backs, their tails beating a merry tune upon the ground.

  Fakir Aziz stepped up to the open doorway and gazed inside the dim cabin. A single candle illuminated the interior, and it did a poor job of it at that. Fakir could see that the room held no furniture. There were no chairs, no tables, and no beds. A couple of blankets were placed in one of the corners for sleeping, and several piles of books stood in another corner. There was a fireplace with half-burnt logs in it, but the hearth was cold and had been so for some months. Sitting on the floor near the fireplace was Zynor with a book in one hand and an apple in the other. A small candle sat on the mantle nearby, and its puny, flickering flame danced gaily across Zynor's balding head. Fakir stepped into the cabin, but Zynor did not even look up. The historian crossed the small room and sat on the floor before Zynor, but still there was no sign that he had been noticed.

  "May I light the fire?" Fakir asked loudly.

  Zynor looked up with a start. "What?"

  "May I light the fire?" Fakir asked softly.

  "Yes, of course. By all means, please do."

  Fakir proceeded to start the fire while Zynor put down his book and stared at the intruder.

  "A bit of a chill in the air tonight," commented Fakir.

  "Is there?" asked Zynor as he subconsciously reached for a blanket in the corner behind him. "I guess I hadn't noticed. What were we talking about?"

  "Nothing," replied Fakir Aziz. "You were reading."

  "Of course I was reading," frowned Zynor. "I meant before that."

  "I have only just arrived," smiled Fakir. Zynor had a troubled look on his face, and Fakir smiled again. "The dogs are fine. You needn't worry about them."

  "I must be going deaf," Zynor said in a rambling sort of way. "I don't remember hearing them when you arrived. Who are you?"

  "You may call me Fakir Aziz," answered the historian, "and you would be Zynor, the nature man of Zarocca."

  "I have been called that," nodded Zynor, "but it was a few years ago I think."

  "More like a few hundred years ago," smiled Fakir Aziz. "The days when people would trek to these woods to seek your wisdom ended a long time ago. I don't think anyone kn
ows that you still exist."

  Zynor frowned. "I don't suppose that matters. They always came asking for information, never bringing it with them. They were a distraction from my studies."

  "Some brought you books," Fakir nodded to the stacks in the corner.

  "Books," nodded Zynor. "Yes, books are full of information, but I have read them all."

  "Some information is not written about," stated Fakir Aziz. "You seek to learn everything from the pages written by others, but what about the things that no one has yet written about? How can you learn everything by remaining in this cabin?"

  The balding man frowned in thought as he stared into the flames of the fire. His eyes began to glow with a clarity that had not been seen in many years. He turned and stared at Fakir Aziz.

  "I know you."

  "And I know you," replied Fakir. "You have set yourself upon an impossible quest, for nature is constantly changing around you. You cannot learn by words alone. You need to smell, feel, and touch."

  "You are right," Zynor nodded with new determination, "but how do I begin? Where do I go?"

  "Those questions are irrelevant," replied Fakir. "What is the real question?"

  Zynor threw off his blanket and stood up. He walked to the door and gazed out into the night. The four dogs were sitting contently staring at the cabin, and the four unicorns stood beside them. He frowned in confusion and turned back towards the fire.

  "Those unicorns have no horns," Zynor stated.

  "Then how did you know they are unicorns?" asked Fakir Aziz.

  Zynor shrugged. "They are unicorns. What happened to their horns?"

  "They are hidden," smiled Fakir. "Unicorns have not been seen in hundreds of years. The people today believe they are mythical. Sometimes it is better to let people retain their myths."

  "Why have you come for me?" asked Zynor. "My studies are not done."

  "For the answer to that question," replied Fakir, "you must ask the real question."

 

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