13 Day War (20 page)

“Let’s go dismantle those Doors and sink them in the sea. Maybe that will cheer us up a bit.”

Wylan smiled weakly and nodded in agreement.

* * * *

General Nunes stood and stared through the open Door at Camp Destiny. The only thing visible to him was an unlit fireplace in what appeared to be a rather small home. The first regiment of the 19
^th
Corps from Spino had already passed through the portal to Cordonia, but the General and the rest of the army would wait for the colonel to report that the staging area was secure. The report took longer than expected, but the colonel eventually signaled for the general to step through the portal, and General Nunes wasted no time in doing so. He stepped into the small house and immediately stepped aside to let the soldiers behind him flow through unimpeded.

“What was the holdup, Colonel?” asked General Nunes.

“It is quite foggy outside, General. We can’t even see the city of Paso across the river. As the visibility is so low, I needed to alter the orders slightly. I have more men on the defensive perimeter than the plan called for, but I wanted each man to be seen by two others. The camp would not be truly secure otherwise.”

“Well done, Colonel,” complimented the general. “Your response to the situation was the proper one. Has there been any contact with the Alceans?”

“None, General. This side of the river is not very populated. General Butwin has the busy side of the river, but even he will probably not encounter anyone. The farm he is coming out at is a league away from the city. On a clear day his army might be seen from Paso, but he will have no worries today.”

“Excellent,” smiled General Nunes. “I ordered the cavalry to come through last after seeing this house through the portal. Those horses will end up destroying the floors of this house before the whole army is through, so change your formation plans accordingly.”

“That will not cause me a problem, General. One of my men did report that the Black River is still frozen. As the bridge across the river is still three days away, I thought I would get your feeling about trying to cross over the ice. It makes me nervous to have our army separated from the 27
^th
Corps.”

“I will not trust my men to the whims of ice,” the general replied with a shake of his head. “Right now we have ten-thousand men on each side of the river. Either army is capable of defeating the entire Cordonian army on its own. Should half of my army get across the river before the ice cracks, I could end up with a smaller army than the Cordonians. I understand the odds of such an occurrence are low, but there is no reason to take such a risk, no matter how small it is. Crossing the river in three days will be fine.”

* * * *

General Testa of the 20
^th
Corps of Spino walked through the portal and into a temple south of the Cordonian city of Carid. He could hear the wind howling outside the temple, and the temperature inside the old building told him that winter had not yet let go of its hold on Cordonia.

“There is fresh snow outside, General,” reported a colonel. “Another week before the invasion would have been better.”

“Better but not necessary,” General Testa replied. “We have more than enough men to easily overwhelm the Cordonians. We have the easiest task of the entire war. The Cordonians only have six-thousand men in what they call an army. I don’t think a little snow is going to change the obvious results of the coming battle. Kantor will fall without a whimper.”

“Yes, sir,” replied the colonel. “General Alden and the 28
^th
Corps will be a while getting here. You might as well wait inside the temple and stay out of the weather. I will notify you when the Aertans come into view.”

“General Alden,” chuckled General Testa. “This is probably the only time I will have authority over the Crown Prince of Aerta. I bet he is none too pleased to be under the command of a Spinoan general.”

“Why is he even here?” the colonel asked cautiously. “I would have thought that he would be in charge of the home guard and not leading an army into battle.”

“Alden and his father do not get along,” smirked General Testa. “If King Anator had pushed for it, I am quite sure that Grand General Kyrga would have made Alden the top general in Force Cordonia, but now he is at the bottom. Obviously his father does not favor him very highly. At least Montero got his choice of posting in Sordoa.”

“He doesn’t get along with his father either, does he?”

“Absolutely not,” laughed General Testa. “They hate each other. King Harowin probably hopes that Montero doesn’t return from the war, but Montero had enough pull on his own to get what he wants.”

* * * *

Sinora and Wesik halted in a small clearing of the Sordoan forest. Wylan and Sheri slid from the backs of the unicorns, and Sheri immediately started rummaging through her pack. Twerp stuck his head out of Wylan’s pocket and sensed excitement in the air. The fairy leaped to Sinora’s head and stood watching the Knights of Alcea. Sheri pulled two Federation uniforms out of her pack and handed the larger one to Wylan. She then bound her chest tightly and pulled the uniform on. Wylan examined his uniform before putting it on.

“This even has the patch of the 10
^th
Corps,” he remarked. “How could you have planned this so well?”

“I was Lady Zachary,” grinned Sheri. “Zack Nolan has an incredible grasp of the situation. When he learned that we would be assigned to Caldar, he made a point of procuring the proper patches for us to use. He then had uniforms made up for us. Mine fits perfectly, but he had to guess about your size. How does it fit?”

“Well enough,” Wylan replied, “but the sleeves are a bit long. It will be fine for riding, but not for marching when my arms are at my sides.”

“Then remain mounted,” stated Sheri. “Your excellent night vision will be useful to see if anyone is coming when I approach the mages tent. Should anyone approach, you can head them off until after I have dispatched the mages.”

Wylan frowned deeply as he removed the colorful patches that shielded his eyes. “I should be going into the tent, not you.”

“Nonsense,” retorted Sheri. “I can stab sleeping bodies with myric quills as easily as you can. The real danger will be getting out of the encampment when we are done. It will be particularly dangerous when it comes time to leave the tent. Your night vision is akin to a dwarf’s. I want those eyes of yours outside the tent to avoid being discovered by the enemy when I exit.”

Wylan sighed anxiously and did not respond to his wife’s words. Part of him wanted to demand that he be the one to enter the tent, but the other part of him realized that Sheri was right. She was more than capable of killing the mages, and it did make sense for him to keep watch.

“Twerp,” ordered Sheri, “it is time to find us a way into the encampment. Do not dally.”

“Dally?” quipped the fairy. “I will be back before either of you realizes how foolish you look in those uniforms.”

Sheri giggled as the little green man leaped off the head of the unicorn and shot into the dark sky. Even Wylan smiled inwardly as he momentarily cast off the dark gloom that had found a home in his heart. Wylan strapped his staff to Wesik and then he walked over to Sheri and wordlessly embraced her. For a long time they stood silently embracing each other. Eventually, Sheri pushed away and kissed Wylan tenderly.

“Now is not the time for such feelings, husband. We must keep our minds on the task at hand.”

Twerp chose that very moment to drop from the sky and land on Wylan’s shoulder.

“I have the perfect spot,” the fairy reported excitedly, but we must move quickly. A patrol passes through the area, and it has just gone by.”

Both Knights of Alcea responded without hesitation. They mounted their unicorns and took to the air. Twerp hung onto Wylan’s ear and directed him towards the chosen spot. The unicorns glided noiselessly through the canopy and landed lightly in a small clearing almost completely enclosed by thorny bushes. Wesik stepped cautiously as he maneuvered the narrow trail leading out of the clearing, and Sinora followed closely.

Their entry into the encampment had been far from the center, and their journey through the camp took them past many burned out campfires. While most of the Federation soldiers were fast asleep, there were still many up and about. Some sat talking quietly and others moved about. Several of them glanced at the two mounted soldiers with curiosity, but no one challenged them. Eventually they came to an area of the encampment that was dimly lit. Wylan glanced at the three large tents and felt a shiver race up his spine. They were clearly in the center of the enemy’s encampment and twenty-thousand soldiers surrounded them. He swallowed hard as he brought the unicorns to a halt in the relative darkness of a large tree on the edge of the big clearing.

Sheri slid off her unicorn without hesitation. She walked Sinora away from the large clearing so that Wylan would not be seen as having two horses. She tied the unicorn to a tree and then calmly pulled a small quiver out of her pack and strapped it on at her waist. She walked back to where Wylan and Wesik waited. With a glance around the open area, she marched towards the smallest of the three large tents. Before she had covered half the distance to the tent, a lone black-cloak emerged from the tent. Sheri smoothly altered her course so that she appeared to be merely passing by the tent. She continued on for a while and then gradually moved into the trees and doubled back towards Wylan and the Wesik. Eventually, she returned to where she had started.

“That was unexpected,” she said softly. “I guess they are not all sleeping. Where did he go?”

“He didn’t go anywhere,” Wylan replied. “He stood outside the tent for a while and then disappeared back inside. Perhaps this is not a wise idea.”

“Have courage, my husband,” Sheri smiled. “We can do this.”

“I know we can,” frowned Wylan, “but I have a strange foreboding about this mission. Let’s call it off. We can figure out another way to slay the mages.”

“Time is short,” retorted Sheri, “and we have no mage of our own to fall back on. We are already here. Let’s get it done.”

Without waiting for a response, Sheri once more set off on a path towards the mage tent. Wylan watched her go, marveling at the incredible amount of courage his wife had. In a way, he envied her.

Sheri marched up to the tent and grabbed a myric quill in her right hand. Her left hand reached for the tent flap, but her fingers never touched the fabric. In an instant, her confidence shattered and her body froze. She stared uncomprehendingly at her hand and saw her fingers trembling with fear. Her whole body shook with a feeling she had never experienced before. Her body quivered and she sweated sheets of perspiration. Her lungs shrunk, and she felt as if she could not inhale enough air to sustain her body. She gasped and began to pant loudly.

Suddenly, the tent flap flew open and a black-cloak stood before the Knight of Alcea. Sheri watched helplessly as the dark mage reached out and placed his hand on Sheri’s shoulder. A jolt of searing pain shot through Sheri, and she felt her limbs turn to jelly, her body collapsing under its own weight. Her eyes rolled up into her head and everything turned black.

Across the clearing, Wylan watched the horror unfold. He kicked Wesik into motion even though he could not save his wife. With a feeling of revenge, Wylan and Wesik charged the mage tent.

“Show your horn, Wesik. You will need it to help me avenge my Sheri.”

The unicorn did not respond, but tears flowed from his eyes as swiftly as those from Wylan’s eyes. Wylan pulled his staff from its restraining strap and glared at the black-cloak bending over Sheri’s body. The black-cloak must have sensed their approach because he suddenly straightened and turned to face the charging rider. His arms came up to cast a spell at the Knight of Alcea, but he was too late. Wylan’s staff reached out with a fury, its tip crushing the mage’s throat and tearing his head away from his body. As Wylan shook the skull from the tip of his staff, Wesik’s horn slashed through the fabric of the tent. The unicorn carried his partner into the mage tent.

The commotion had already woken the remaining seven black-cloaks. Shouts of surprise filled the tents as the unicorn slashed his way inside. Arms rose threateningly towards the Knight of Alcea on the unicorn’s back, but Wylan had anticipated such a response. He dove from Wesik’s back as soon as he was through the tent wall. Half a dozen magical projectiles soared above the unicorn’s back, some igniting the tent fabric, while others sliced through the thin material.

Wylan came out of his dive in a roll and sprang to his feet with his staff extended before him. The black-cloaks scattered, trying to put space between themselves and the staff-wielding lunatic. They were not all successful. Wylan jabbed his staff into the stomach of one mage and then snapped it upward when the mage doubled over in agony. The upward thrust drove the mage’s nose into his brain. The black-cloak collapsed to the floor.

On the other side of the room, the forgotten unicorn sent the black-cloaks a message of his own. Wesik speared a black-cloak with his horn and then tossed the corpse at the remaining mages. Wylan took advantage of the distraction to move in closer and swing his staff at the closest mage. The staff struck with a resounding crack. The mage’s body flew through the air and slammed into one of the tent’s supports. The tent shook wildly, and part of it started to collapse. Another part of the tent was burning from the earlier spells cast at Wylan. The Knight of Alcea knew that his time in this world was fast expiring. He tucked his staff in and dove towards the remaining mages, intent on taking as many of them with him as he was able to.

Wesik lowered his head and charged, spearing another black-cloak on his incredibly sharp horn. He felt two magical projectiles slam into his body in close succession. One spell struck his flank, and the searing heat felt as if it was rapidly eating through his flesh. The other spell was one of brilliance, and it struck his face. Wesik’s world turned to blackness as he shook the mage’s body off his horn. The pain in Wesik’s flank grew excruciating, and the unicorn began to feel a loss of control of his hindquarters. Unable to see the enemy, Wesik started swaying his head back and forth as widely as he could, hoping to snare another mage before he died.