13 Day War (45 page)

“The two forces will be evenly matched,” answered the general, “at least in terms of numbers. I have not seen the Lanoirians fight yet, so I can not gauge their worthiness on the battlefield, but I know Kolling to be a shrewd strategist and a bulldog when it comes to giving up ground. I truly do not know how it will turn out, but I will do what I can to minimize the bloodshed. I would like to think that you would join me in that endeavor.”

“I will,” vowed Colonel Rotti. “I am sorry for the way I have acted, but I have had a hard time understanding these Alceans. I kept looking for the real reasons for their actions, not realizing that I was already seeing the truth. Tell me how I can help.”

General Somma smiled fatherly. “General Ruppert’s army should be in the vanguard. I will place myself at Bin-lu’s service and try to negotiate the surrender of the 13
^th
Corps. It would be helpful if you joined Rut-ki at the other end of the column. She will be trying to get General Hanold to surrender the 26
^th
Corps. Hanold is a reasonable man, but I do not think he will surrender unless Ruppert does. Treat him with respect. Do not push him unless Rut-ki decides that the time has come to do so.”

* * * *

Prince Oscar entered the library and closed the door. King Arik, Alex, Balamor, General Gregor, and Prince Midge all turned to see who was entering the room, but they quickly returned to their discussion of the trap being set for Artimor, the last Claw of Alutar.

“Stop talking,” Prince Oscar said loudly. “I do not want to hear your plans yet.”

“Why not?” asked Alex. “This is your plan that we are discussing.”

“I understand,” replied the prince, “but I do not want to know any details just yet. I just need a minute to speak with General Gregor before I leave.”

“Before you leave?” asked King Arik. “Where are you going?”

“To buy a new pair of boots,” smiled Prince Oscar.

“Is that wise?” asked Alex. “Remember that Artimor is a demonkin of great power. We have no idea what he can do.”

“But we do have some idea of some of his capabilities,” retorted the prince. “K’san was able to see through the eyes of Red Swords and hear through their ears, and K’san was inferior to a Claw of Alutar. I highly suspect that Artimor is doing exactly the same, but on a much grander scale. That is why I needed to talk to General Gregor. I want him to speak to several soldiers about the king’s visit to the estate, and I want him to warn those soldiers that the information is very secret. They are not to talk to anyone about it. Do not discuss our preparations at all. Only the people in this room are to know, with the additions of Jenneva, Tanya, and Theos.”

“You think Artimor will learn the secrets?” asked Balamor.

“I do.” The prince nodded. “I expect that he has dozens of unwitting moles inside the Royal Palace.”

“Then why is there a need for you to visit the shop?” asked the king. “I do not like the idea of you putting yourself in danger needlessly.”

“There is a need,” answered the prince. “I think Artimor may have far more spies than he can juggle. If he does not expect anything extraordinary to happen, he will not go looking for the secrets we wish for him to discover. My visit should be enough to spur him to look deeper into what is going on in the palace. I am a high profile noble, and he will no doubt sift through my thoughts when I enter his shop.”

“He will learn that we are planning a trap?” frowned Prince Midge. “Was your mother an ogre?”

Alex coughed loudly, and the fairy prince gazed at him to see the Knight of Alcea shaking his head in warning. Prince Midge noticed that the king was not laughing at his joke and suddenly realized that he was besmirching the Bringer’s grandmother. He blushed bright green. Before the embarrassment could become the topic of conversation, Prince Oscar responded.

“I do not think he will learn about the trap. I intend to concentrate on the king’s unannounced retreat to a private estate and nothing more. That is why I do not want to hear your thoughts and plans until later. I also plan to take two soldiers with me as guards. If the demonkin tries to magically delay me to probe further, they will have specific instructions to drag me out of the shop after a certain amount of time has expired. Artimor will not tip his hand by attacking me. I am not one of the big fish he is hoping to net.”

“Be careful, Oscar,” Alex said with concern. “Artimor is not like dealing with a bandit. Tread softly.”

Prince Oscar nodded and exited the library. He left the Royal Palace, but halted in the courtyard where a number of soldiers stood ready to defend the palace. The soldiers straightened in the presence of the prince. Oscar strode in front of the soldiers, examining their boots. When he found two soldiers whose boots were in need of repair, he ordered them to accompany him. He said nothing to them about his destination until they had left the grounds of the palace.

“I have one stop to make,” Prince Oscar announced to this newly formed escort. “Listen to my words carefully and ask no questions. I am going to enter a shop and make a purchase. If I am not out within three minutes, you are to enter the shop and get me out, even if you have to do so forcibly. You will say nothing to me or anyone else until we all return to the palace. Do you understand?”

One of the soldiers opened his mouth to ask for clarification of the strange orders, but he suddenly thought better of it. Prince Oscar was well known within the palace for being exact with his orders. The soldier nodded his understanding. The shoemaker’s shop was fairly close to the Royal Palace and within minutes they reached the entrance to the shop. The two soldiers immediately took up posts on each side of the doorway and the prince entered the shop. A tiny bell rang as Oscar closed the door. An old man with thick, white hair hobbled through a curtain and entered the room. The shopkeeper looked at the prince with a puzzled expression.

“May I help you?” asked Artimor.

“You may,” Prince Oscar smiled warmly. “You are the shoemaker who made the boots for the king?”

“Were they not to his liking?” asked the demonkin.

“Quite the contrary,” replied the prince. “He wears them every day. I must agree with him that the workmanship is exquisite. As I am in the market for another pair of boots myself, I thought that you should be the one to provide them.”

“Ah,” nodded the shoemaker, a hint of skepticism in his voice. “You are Prince Oscar, are you not?”

“I am.”

“And you want me to make you something similar to what I gave to the king?”

“Not at all,” replied Prince Oscar. “I merely need a pair of simple boots to use during inclement weather. They need not be anything special, but I thought I would buy them from you to show the king’s appreciation of your gift.”

Prince Oscar felt a tingling sensation in his mind. Had he not been expecting something to happen, he would never have felt it. He concentrated on his plans to secure the old estate of Duke Everich for the king to convalesce in. The feeling lasted only a minute, and Oscar suppressed a sigh of relief.

“Perhaps something that you have in stock would suffice,” the prince continued. “I am rather short on time today.”

The shoemaker nodded with a smile and walked to one of the shelves. He took a pair of new boots off the shelf and handed them to the prince.

“These boots are your size,” said the shoemaker. “You will not even need to try them on. Trust me. I am an expert on feet.” Artimor paused and then lowered his voice, “Some of my customers have been lamenting the fact that the king has not addressed the plague that is running rampant in the city. Is he not well himself?”

Prince Oscar started as if someone had just uncovered a state secret. He glanced around the shop anxiously and then returned his eyes to the shoemaker. He sighed and nodded slightly.

“He is feeling a bit under the weather,” the prince replied confidentially, “but it is better not to talk about such things. Besides, I am sure that the citizens do not need the king to tell them about the sickness plaguing the city. How much are the boots?”

“They are a gift,” Artimor smiled.

“No,” balked the prince. “You have been more than generous already. I insist on paying. A merchant should not be expected to provide for royalty at the expense of others.”

Just then the door opened, and two soldiers entered the shop. Prince Oscar shoved several gold coins into the shoemaker’s hand.

“I must leave,” the prince said apologetically. “I will stop by again and let you know how well these fit.”

The prince and his escort left the shop and walked back to the Royal Palace. Before passing through the gates, the prince made the soldiers swear not to reveal where they went or what his orders had been. Once parted from the escort, Oscar hurried up to the library to join in the planning.

“The deed is done,” reported the prince. “Now we can get to the details of this plan.”

“Are you sure he knows about the Everich estate?” asked Alex.

“I felt a tingling in my mind,” answered the prince. “I am sure that he was probing it. “Why did you pick the Everich estate for the ambush site?”

“It has certain features that we can make use of,” smiled Alex, “but mostly because it will contain any damage to an area where there are no innocents. Now we have to plan how to get Arik into the estate without being attacked.”

“Keep the king heavily shielded while transporting him,” suggested Balamor. “While Artimor can likely blast away the shields, he will be hesitant to do so if he thinks that the shields will be dropped once the king is on the estate. He will want the maximum effect of his spells to do damage, not be dissipated by shields. I think you should have multiple, powerful mages shielding him for the trip. The more the better. Let him sense the power of the shields.”

“Wycaramor was strong enough to destroy this library,” commented General Gregor, “and Lycindor destroyed two rooms in the palace. If the Mage is correct, and Artimor is the most powerful Claw of Alutar, Duke Everich’s estate will not fare well under the demonkin’s attack. It will likely be damaged. Are you sure it is wise to have the king inside such a structure? He will be trapped.”

“The King will be safe,” promised Alex. “We just need to be sure of Aritmor’s location at all times.”

“The fairies will handle that,” chirped Prince Midge. “I have already assigned fairies to keep watch on the demonkin.”

“Then we are ready to plan the rest of this,” declared Prince Oscar. “Let me explain how I envision this unfolding and then Alex can present the military requirements for the ambush. We will need to discuss everything quickly, but thoroughly. There will be no room for ambiguity, and we have little time to put everything in motion.”

* * * *

Colonel Dukirk sighed anxiously as he rode through the swamp with twenty other riders. He was now five leagues ahead of the main column of Team Danver Shores, and he was not happy with what he was seeing. Instead of the roadway widening and returning to forested land as he had expected, it had continuously narrowed until the murky waters crowded the road on both sides. The road resembled a land bridge through the watery muck, and there was not a decent campsite in view.

As if responding to the colonel’s sigh, the squad leader spoke. “It doesn’t look good, Colonel. The road stays rather narrow up ahead as far as I can see.”

Colonel Dukirk nodded in agreement. “We are already at the distance of a day’s march, but I cannot imagine camping here for the night. We will ride on a bit farther.”

Less than an hour later, the land widened around the road. The cavalry squad halted to survey the land. It was a grassy meadow, though quite damp underfoot. Colonel Dukirk dismounted as did the other riders. When the colonel stepped off the relatively hard surface of the road, his boots sank just a bit in the muck. He shook his head in disgust and sighed once again.

“It’s better than nothing,” commented the squad leader.

“Barely,” conceded the colonel. “Send one of your men back to General Pryblick to inform him that today’s march will be a bit longer than normal. He will want an accurate estimate of the distance so he can pace the infantry appropriately.”

The squad leader nodded and summoned one of his men. He quietly instructed the soldier and sent him on his way before returning to the colonel.

“Do you think the ground will dry any under the brunt of the sun?” asked the colonel. “I have no practical experience with swamps.”

“Nor do I,” admitted the squad leader. “The only sizeable swamp in Zara is on the western side of the Barrier. I have never been there, but I think the men should expect damp ground tonight.”

A violent splash caught the attention of the two men, and they both whirled towards the sound. They gaped at the sight of a giant reptile with a cavernous mouth full of long, sharp teeth. The creature must have felt foreign eyes upon it because it closed its mouth and slithered off into the water.

“What was that?” gasped the squad leader.

“I don’t know,” the colonel said in a whisper, “but it does not give me a warm feeling about our campsite. That thing looked as if it could swallow a man whole.”

“That would be far less painful that what I was envisioning,” quaked the squad leader. “Did you see the teeth on that? It could rip the belly out of a horse with one bite.”

Colonel Dukirk nodded as he eased towards his horse. “I am going to check further north. Perhaps there is drier ground within a reasonable distance.”

The squad leader whistled to get his men’s attention as he hurried after the colonel. “We will join you. We are, after all, supposed to be protecting you.”

Colonel Dukirk smiled inwardly at the squad leader’s devotion to duty. He knew that that the man was fearful of remaining near the giant reptile, and he did not blame him. Such monsters were unheard of. The cavalry squad rode for another hour before halting once again. The road through the swamp had narrowed within minutes of leaving the campsite, and it had not widened again. Now, an hour north of the campsite, the road ended.

“This cannot be,” scowled the colonel. “We must have missed a turn somewhere.”