Council of War

by Richard S. Tuttle

  "I believe the princess is encouraged by Queen Romani," smiled the general. "Perhaps it is time for Tyronia to consider revising its line of succession."

  The king blinked and turned his attention from the general to his daughter. He saw a slight smile on Jeanel's face and knew that the general was correct in his assumptions. He frowned at the thought of Tyronia being ruled by a woman. It went against the grain of centuries of tradition, yet he, too, had been impressed with Queen Romani's grasp of the current situation. He suddenly saw his daughter in a new light, and his frown faded away, and a smile spread across his lips.

  "Perhaps it is," King Myer agreed with a nod. "If such is to be the case, there is much our princess will have to learn. How fortunate we are to have been given a quiet place and some free time to see to those lessons. Is it a queen you truly wish to be?"

  "I could do a much finer job of taking care of the people than Mectin could ever do," declared the princess.

  "That is not hard to imagine," sighed the king, "but I think you underestimate yourself. You are much like your mother, and she would have made a finer ruler than I was. It is not much of a secret that your mother was the impetus of many of my major reforms. We will begin your studies today."

  "The reason I have come," stated the general, "is that King Wendal is meeting with his advisors today. He has invited you to attend the meeting."

  King Myer seemed annoyed at the intrusion. "What is the meeting about?"

  "Baron Stikman holds out little hope for the Council of War," replied the general. "He seeks to form a strategy for defending the horse countries alone. We were invited to offer our suggestions."

  "I am supposed to be dead," scowled the king. "Besides, you are far better suited to addressing matters of strategy. You shall be the voice of Tyronia in any such meetings. It is too late to deceive King Wendal and Baron Stikman, but let the others think me dead."

  General Skye frowned with concern. "I understand that you would prefer to spend time alone with the princess, but is there some other reason that you wish for people in Herinak to think you are dead?"

  "There are thousands of them," answered the king. "King Persimon was deceived by his Royal Sorcerer, and my own army in Tyronia was infiltrated by General Forshire. Why should I think that the Koroccans would be immune from such agents of the Federation?"

  "A valid point," nodded the general, "but many people in the palace have already seen you."

  "They have seen an old man with the princess," corrected the king. "None of these people know what the King of Tyronia looks like. Spread the word that I am the tutor of the princess. Let them all believe that King Myer is dead."

  "It shall be as you command," stated the general. "I will inform King Wendal and Baron Stikman personally about your desires."

  "You are a good man, Skye," smiled the king. "Advise the Koroccans as best you can, and keep me informed of any major decisions."

  General Skye bowed to the king and the princess and backed away from the bench. He turned and retreated indoors and made his way directly to the study of Baron Stikman. He related the desire of King Myer, and the baron shrugged in agreement.

  "I will inform King Wendal of the Tyronian decision," replied the baron.

  "I promised that I would inform King Wendal personally," objected the general.

  The baron glared briefly at the general for his lack of trust, but he eventually sighed and nodded. "We can stop by his study on the way to the meeting. Come along."

  King Wendal took no offense at King Myer's request, nor did he act surprised. He immediately dismissed the issue as having been resolved and suggested that it was time to move on to the meeting. The three men walked together to the room set aside for the strategy sessions. The room was already full of advisors and barons of the realm. General Skye saw Queen Romani, and he moved away from the king to speak with her. He informed her in a whisper of King Myer's wishes, and she frowned heavily as she glanced around at the large number of people in the room.

  "I had not thought about that," she whispered back. "Perhaps I should leave?"

  "Let's get settled down," Baron Stikman said loudly as he signaled for the guards to close the doors. When the room settled down and dozens of conversations halted, the baron continued, "Many of you have already heard of the attack on Traginak. The attack marks the first time that creatures from the Forest of Death have targeted the capital of Zarocca. I suspect that it is a portent of things to come. The purpose of this meeting is to openly discuss possible strategies, not only for Korocca, but for Zarocca as well. We must stand united with our cousins to the west. In the spirit of openness, King Wendal has invited representatives from Tyronia and Vinafor to join with us in discussing this matter. Let us all welcome Queen Romania of Vinafor and General Skye of Tyronia."

  Murmurs ran around the long table as everyone stared at the two foreigners.

  * * *

  The three riders rode into the Alcean camp and dismounted. Tedi and Natia looked on with curiosity, but Karl and the Rangers did not realize the significance of the third rider.

  "This is Yortana," Garth announced. "She will represent the Rhodans in our meeting with Boric. Has he been informed of our return?"

  Karl quickly nodded. "Max has just returned from the canyon."

  "He is expecting you sometime today," stated Max Caber. "He asked how we knew, but I sidestepped the issue."

  "Good," replied Garth. "Head on back to the canyon immediately, Max. Tell them that there will be three of us coming in."

  Max nodded and immediately set off for the bandits' hideout. Kalina introduced the rest of the group to Yortana, and they had a bite to eat before remounting and heading out of the camp. When they arrived at the mouth of the canyon, Garth hesitated as he gazed up at the cliffs. He could sense the bandits watching him, but he could not see any of them.

  "Shields," Garth said to Kalina. "Just in case."

  "I agree," replied Kalina.

  Yortana gazed around warily, but she showed no fear. Garth took the lead and started down the canyon. Yortana followed and Kalina brought up the rear. They traversed the canyon without incident, and Boric was waiting alongside Max when they reached the end of the trail. The three riders dismounted.

  "Boric," Garth said, "this is Yortana. She will represent the interests of the Rhodans. Yortana, this is Boric."

  "Welcome, Yortana," smiled Boric. "Am I to assume by your presence here that our offer has been accepted?"

  "It is a fair assumption," Yortana replied. "I have been authorized to meet with you on behalf of the Rhodans. Our initial response to your offer is favorable, but I think we need to discuss exactly how this alliance will progress."

  "Fair enough," agreed Boric. "Let's get into the cave where we can sit down and discuss our plans."

  Yortana nodded and Boric led the way up the steep path. Max turned to leave and return to camp, but Garth placed a hand on his arm.

  "Stick around," Garth said softly. "There might be more for you here than is presently clear."

  Max shrugged and started up the path behind Yortana. Kalina followed close behind the Ranger, and Garth came last. When they reached the top of the trail, Kalina reached out and tapped the Ranger on his arm.

  "Unsheathe your sword," requested Kalina.

  Max did not hesitate. He drew his sword and held it out towards Kalina while Garth stopped alongside of his wife and watched with curiosity.

  "What is the matter?" Garth asked softly.

  "This sword is enchanted," Kalina declared as she waved the sword away. "It has the same two spells that I found on yours."

  "Aziz?" asked Garth.

  Kalina nodded. "I wonder what he is up to?"

  "Check the swords of the others when we return to the camp," urged Garth. "For now, let's get inside the cave."

  Max sheathed his sword, and the three Alceans proceeded along the ledge and into the cave. Boric and Yortana were already seated and discussing the potential union. Kalina
moved to sit next to Yortana, but Garth and Max stayed near the entrance of the cave.

  "What do these spells mean?" Max asked softly.

  "One is a locator spell," answered Garth. "Fakir Aziz has the capability of determining your location at any time. We do not know what the other spell does."

  "How concerned should I be?" asked Max. "Should I get a new sword?"

  Garth shook his head. "We believe that Fakir Aziz is the Mage," Garth whispered. "If he enchanted your sword, it was for a purpose. Do not dispose of it."

  "It still makes me nervous," admitted the Ranger. "Why did you want me to stay behind here?"

  "I want to see this alliance prosper," Garth said as he nodded towards Boric and Yortana, "but time is running out for us. I am thinking of leaving you here when we leave. I will leave Runt with you so that we can keep in touch."

  "I think Karl will object," frowned Max. "Peanut has gone with Clint, and now you are taking Runt away. He has grown dependent on the fairies."

  "I think we all have," conceded Garth. "When I was at the Isle of Despair, I told Squirt to request more fairies. We will have some more soon."

  "So what am I to do here other than watch?" asked the Ranger.

  "Yortana will need to make trips to Atule's Maze," answered Garth. "She should not travel alone in this country. It is not that I doubt her ability to defend herself, but a lone woman traveling through Karamin will raise questions that are better not asked. I also want you to gain the trust of both groups. Advise them on strategies and tactics. You have far more experience than Boric, but he knows the terrain. Work with them as if you were a partner in the alliance. I may also ask you to fly to Herinak to represent them if that is agreeable to both of them."

  "I understand what you are looking for," Max replied with confidence. "I will help them seek an end to the Federation here in Karamin."

  * * *

  Zynor smiled as he ran the brush over the unicorn. Occasionally his lips would move as if he were talking to himself, but his words never drifted over to the fire where two other mages sat drinking tea.

  "What is he doing?" griped Theos. "He is going to wear the coats off those unicorns."

  "Leave him be," Kalmar said distractedly as he gazed into the fire. "He is enthralled with them."

  "Better he should be enthralled with the patrols of Federation soldiers passing along the Lombardi Road behind us," retorted the Tyronian mage. "I do not understand why none of them has accosted us yet, but it is only a matter of time before they do."

  "Careful," Kalmar warned softly. "Fakir said to avoid trouble. You sound as if you are itching for a fight."

  "Maybe I am," conceded Theos. "I am a bit irritable about being led around by Fakir Aziz like some small child. Who is he anyway? And where is he?"

  "He said that he would catch up with us in a day or two," shrugged Kalmar. "I suppose that he will."

  "That doesn't answer the question of who he is," Theos pointed out.

  "True," sighed Kalmar. "The truth is, I do not know who he is, but I know that he is on the path that I must follow."

  "Just like that?" balked Theos. "Surely, you have more of a reason for being here than that?"

  "Do I?" Kalmar smiled thinly. "What then is your reason for being here? You seem so angry that you are stuck with us, yet you do not get up and leave. Why is that?"

  "Perhaps I should leave," scowled Theos. "It would serve the old man right."

  Kalmar made no attempt to dissuade the Tyronian mage from leaving. He returned his attention to the flames of the fire, and Theos growled in anger.

  "Zynor," called the Tyronian mage. "Get over here."

  The old Zaroccan mage turned away from the unicorn and stared across the clearing. He dutifully walked across the clearing and sat next to Kalmar. He poured himself a cup of tea and looked up at Theos expectantly.

  "What do the unicorns tell you?" asked Theos. "Do they know who Fakir Aziz is?"

  "He is magic," replied Zynor.

  "We are all mages," retorted Theos. "I mean who Fakir Aziz is."

  "I have told you," Zynor replied without reproach. "He is magic. The unicorns recognize him."

  "Bah," scowled Theos. "Your brain has grown soft with age. You are beginning to think simple thoughts like the unicorns do."

  "They are quite intelligent," frowned Zynor. "They remember more about this world than you have ever known."

  "Be serious," retorted Theos.

  "He is serious," Kalmar interjected as he tore his eyes away from the fire. "The unicorns have a type of herd memory. I do not understand it totally, but each of them remembers what his ancestors remembered. It is quite fascinating to talk with one of them. You should try it more often."

  "They know the origins of the Occans," nodded Zynor. "I was just discussing it with them. What makes the Occans unique among horses is the unicorn blood flowing through their veins. If the Zaroccans and Koroccans had not zealously guarded the breeding of the Occans, it would have been bred out of them by now."

  Theos raised an eyebrow in surprise. The resemblance between the large warhorses and the unicorns suddenly made sense to the Tyronia mage, and he also understood why Tyronia had never been able to duplicate the breed. Mating with a normal horse would only thin the unicorn blood running through the Occans.

  "What do they mean when they call Fakir magic?" asked Theos.

  "He is magic," frowned Zynor. "I do not know how to explain it, but if magic had a physical shape all of its own, it would be Fakir Aziz. I know that makes no sense, but that is how they see him."

  "You make him out to be a god," scoffed Theos.

  Kalmar suddenly looked at Theos and stared at him with wonder in his eyes. "Not a god," he said in awe. "He is more than that. He is the maker of gods."

  "The maker of magic," Zynor agreed reverently.

  "Are you both daft?" snapped Theos. "We are talking about Fakir Aziz. The old man sits by the fire at night and knits a cloak. Is that the work of a god?"

  * * *

  King Arik held the door to the library in the Royal Palace in Tagaret as Queen Tanya walked through it. He followed her into the library and closed the door behind him. Everyone halted their conversations and turned to pay attention to the king.

  "Roll out the map for us, General Gregor," said the king. "I think it will help us visualize our results. Wylan, what did you and Sheri find in Gortha?"

  The general unrolled the map of Alcea on the long table and Wylan walked over to it and placed his finger slightly west of the Sordoans city of Gortha.

  "Door number thirteen was in a barn outside the city," reported Wylan, "just as we expected. The farm was sold just six months ago to a man from outside the area."

  "Was the farm well tended?" asked Queen Tanya.

  "It was not. It appeared as if no one has tended to this season's crop at all."

  "Horses?" questioned the queen. "Were there a lot of them?"

  "Yes," Wylan replied with a raised eyebrow. "How did you know?"

  The queen didn't answer. Instead she turned her gaze to Bin-lu and Rut-ki.

  "The same is true in Chi," confirmed Bin-lu. "There were scores of horses and little care was given to the crops. Is this significant?"

  "I am not sure," admitted the queen, "but I am beginning to think that it is. Just the fact that all three farms had such similarities is more than a coincidence. There is a reason for it."

  "There is another problem with the farm in Chi," frowned Bin-lu. "We found the Door, but the number was not what we expected to find. Instead of finding Door number fourteen, the Door was numbered eight."

  "Maybe something happened to Door fourteen, and they had to replace it," suggested Sheri.

  "Replaced it with a lower number?" Prince Oscar said, the skepticism evident in his voice.

  Zack Nolan took small blocks of wood that had been pre-numbered from one to twenty-four. He placed them on the map according to the information he had heard so far.

  "What did
you find in Darcia?' asked the spymaster.

  "I found Door number nine in a farm similar to the ones Wylan and Bin-lu have described."

  "So we have found half the Doors," stated Lord Clava, "assuming that no more arrive by ship."

  "King Arik also found Door number fifteen in Darcia," the queen declared. "It was in an inn."

  "You found two of them in Darcia?" frowned Prince Oscar.

  The queen nodded.

  "So Door fourteen could still be in Chi," mused Rut-ki. "We just didn't find it. We found the earlier one first."

  Zack Nolan was staring at the numbered blocks on the map and he started nodding. Everyone stopped talking and stared at the spymaster as he began placing all twenty-four blocks on the map. He emptied the contents of his pouch onto the table and placed a coin on top of each block that signified a verified Door location.

  "What are you doing?" asked Lord Clava.

  "We have found thirteen Doors in twelve cities," explained Zack Nolan. "There is a pattern here that is tugging at my mind, but I cannot quite see it yet."

  Prince Oscar took more blocks out of the pack and started numbering his own set. He ignored the first twelve numbers and arranged the blocks starting with thirteen in a column. He put a question mark on number fourteen as it had not yet been found.

  "There is an order to them," Rut-ki said softly.

  While everyone watched, Rut-ki picked up some of Zack's coins. She placed a copper coin on thirteen, seventeen, and twenty-one. She then placed silver coins on fifteen, nineteen, and twenty-three. Lastly, she placed gold coins on sixteen, twenty, and twenty-four.

  "See the pattern?" Rut-ki asked.

  "I see the pattern," frowned Lord Clava, "but I do not understand it. The coins are placed on every fourth block, but what do the coins represent?"

  "Provinces," answered Zack as he abandoned his own blocks and stared at the prince's arrangement. "Sordoa is represented by copper coins. Silver are on Cordonian cities, and gold for Targa."

  "And no coins for Lanoir," nodded Rut-ki as she placed the first twelve blocks in a column alongside the last twelve. She frowned as she placed a silver coin on number nine. "They do not line up."

  "Pardon my lack of understanding," interjected Lord Clava, "but what is this all about? What is the significance of the provinces and their relationship to the Doors?"