13 Day War (79 page)

The three riders split up and left the colonel. Colonel Hershey sighed with frustration and settled down on the grass to await their return. He had not been anxious to follow Tamora too closely, but neither had he intended to lose him completely. Despite having ten-thousand men under his command, he suddenly felt vulnerable, and he did not like the feeling.

Over an hour later, the tracker returned to the meadow. He galloped across the open area shouting about an impending attack, and soldiers rose to their feet in alarm. The unit commanders began shouting orders to form a shield wall facing west, and men scrambled to get into position. Colonel Hershey rose to his feet even before he was able to hear the words of warning. The sight of his men bracing for battle warned him of the danger, but he shook his head in confusion. He had expected any attack to come from the east, unless the snipers had gathered to attack the rear of the column, but the column was not moving. It made no sense. The colonel waited to hear the report from the tracker. He did not have to wait long.

“The enemy is behind us,” the tracker said in alarm. “There are thousands of them. It is the largest assembly of cavalry that I have ever seen, and they are racing towards us.”

The colonel raised an eyebrow. As most corps in the Federation army had two-thousand riders, the tracker’s words indicated a serious battle was in the offing. He mounted his horse, gazing across the meadow as the 24
^th
Corps formed up in a defensive battle formation. In the distance he could see the enemy start to ride into the meadow. The Alceans turned upon entering Watling Flats, peeling off in both directions to form a line opposing the shield wall. The colonel kicked his horse into motion and rode forward until he was just behind the shield wall. He halted alongside a captain from his own regiment.

“This looks like trouble, Colonel,” the captain said softly. “Any idea where the 2
^nd
Corps is?”

Colonel Hershey glanced right and left, checking the formation of the shield wall. “None,” he replied. “We will have to stand alone.”

“Who are they?” asked the captain. “Half of them do not even wear uniforms. Where did they come from?”

The colonel sighed nervously. “The uniformed ones are the Army of Cordonia. I have no idea who the others are, nor can I fathom what Cordonians are doing in Targa, but there are already enough riders opposing us to cause me considerable concern.”

Sudden shouts from north of the colonel’s position caught his attention. He glanced in that direction and saw men pointing towards the sky. He looked up to see a horde of flying horses coming towards the meadow. On the back of each horse was a warrior dressed in black. He watched in disbelief as the horses landed at the far northern edge of the meadow and formed a battle line. More shouts of alarm from the south caused him to turn away from the spectacle, only to find a repeat performance in the south. The only distinction between the two groups was the lack of uniforms on the flying warriors landing at the south edge of the meadow.

“I don’t believe what I am seeing,” the colonel muttered in awe. “Flying horses?”

“Look again, Colonel,” the captain said. “There are horns upon the heads of those creatures. They are unicorns. I feel like I am dreaming.”

“Then we are dreaming together, Captain,” the colonel responded. “I estimate about one-thousand in each flying group, and ten-thousand riders to the west. Maybe more. This battle is not going to go well for us. The wings on our shield wall will never hold off a charge of a thousand men.”

All of the unicorns had landed, but a dark shadow raced across the meadow, forcing the colonel to look up again. He gasped when he saw the two dragons soaring overhead. They had come out of the east and banked lazily as the riders upon their backs stared down at the battlefield. The colonel turned to watch them as a roar of alarm ripped through the rest of the shield wall. The dragons returned to the east, but a spear shot downward before they disappeared. The spear landed right where the colonel had spent time waiting for reports, and on the end of it was a flag of truce.

“Merciful beast!” exclaimed the captain. “Wake me from this nightmare.”

The colonel said nothing, a claw of fear clutching his chest. He stared at the flag of truce with great apprehension. As the commanding officer of the 24
^th
Corps, it was his duty to respond to it, but there was no enemy representative there. Suddenly, a swath of forest disappeared, and the extension of the Mya-Tagaret Road replaced it. Standing in the middle of the road were four people, two dressed in gleaming white and two in black. They stood ready to parley. Colonel Hershey swallowed hard and reluctantly rode towards them. When he arrived within a dozen paces, the colonel dismounted and walked a few paces further.

“I am King Arik of Alcea,” declared the man in the gleaming white and gold. “I have come to demand your surrender, Colonel Hershey.”

The colonel had figured as much. He was in a poor position to refuse if everything he saw was real, but if the sudden appearance of the road had really been the vanishing of an illusion, might not the rest be an illusion as well? He turned and gazed back across the meadow. He knew nothing of magic. He had no skills to gauge the truth or falseness of what he was seeing.

“You tricked me by concealing this road,” frowned the colonel. “Why am I to trust what else I see?”

King Arik unexpectedly stepped forward. The colonel started as the Alcean king’s hand rose, but he did not react by grabbing for his weapon. He sighed in relief when the king’s hand rested on his shoulder.

“You can believe what you can feel,” the king said softly. “I will give you leave to examine my forces by touch if that is what it takes to end this confrontation. The road was hidden for two reasons. We did not want your army to leave this meadow before I had a chance to seek your surrender. I do not wish to kill your men, Colonel. The 24
^th
Corps is the last of the Federation armies threatening Alcea. There is no reason for your men to die.”

“And the second reason?” asked the colonel.

King Arik removed his hand from the colonel’s shoulder and turned, waving his hand towards the road ahead. Alex, Jenneva, and Queen Tanya stepped to the side of the road so that the colonel’s view was unimpeded.

“I didn’t want your men to have to gaze upon the fate of the 2
^nd
Corps,” the king said solemnly.

Colonel Hershey gazed along the road, which was littered with the dead of the 2
^nd
Corps of the Empire of Barouk. He grimaced in disgust and turned his head away. The colonel turned around and gazed at his army. All of the men were watching him intently, and he shook his head in resignation. Drawing his sword, he held it high over his head and then plunged it into the ground.

The Grand Ballroom of the Royal Palace in Tagaret was packed. King Arik had invited all of the provincial governors, military commanders, Knights of Alcea, and advisors from around the country. Dozens of small groups were spread around the room exchanging tales of the 13 Day War that had just concluded. While there were subdued outbreaks of laughter and gaiety throughout the room, the most common emotions were ones of great relief for the continued safety of Alcea and mourning for those lost in the battles. When King Arik and Queen Tanya entered the room, all of the conversations died, in expectation of the king’s speech, but the king waved dismissively at the assembled people and began to mingle with the various groups. Alexander Tork stood quietly in a corner watching the king making his rounds. After a while, Jenneva noticed Alex’s absence and sought him out. She found him in the corner and joined him.

“You are not celebrating?” she asked.

“Celebrating?” echoed Alex. “Over ten-thousand Alceans died in the last two weeks. That is not cause for celebration.”

Jenneva sighed and nodded. For as long as she had known the quiet warrior, she had never known him to celebrate death, whether it was the death of a comrade or the death of an enemy, yet she felt that there was just cause for celebration, and she pushed her reasoning at her husband.

“Their sacrifices will be honored,” Jenneva said softly, “but I think you lessen their sacrifices by not enjoying the very thing they died for. Alcea has been preserved. Our losses were slight compared to the Federation losses, and we managed to capture far more of the enemy than we killed. By any measure you can think of, we have far exceeded our expectations.”

“Granted,” Alex agreed, “but I cannot help the way I feel. Men should not have to die because some ego-driven ruler in a far off land decides to take what is not his.”

“Everyone in this room agrees with you, Alex,” Jenneva said. “There is more to your mood than just your abhorrence of death and killing. What is really bothering you tonight?”

Alex hesitated and then sighed deeply. “Our war with the Federation has only begun. We have indeed saved Alcea from the clutches of Emperor Jaar, or whoever is behind him, but Alcea will never be truly safe until the Federation is destroyed completely. Tonight is just a brief respite before the war in Zara begins.”

Jenneva nodded in agreement, her own mood starting to sour. “You are correct, husband, but do not drag me and the others into a pit of despair. Our celebration may be brief, but it is one that we have all earned. Join in thanksgiving for all those who have survived and leave the war in Zara for tomorrow’s worries. The break will do you good.”

Alex sighed again and nodded towards the king. “Our young king has grown much since this all began years ago, even just since you and I have been in Zara. He not only has a gift for ruling the people properly, but his skills at leading an army have become impressive. He is a king that I am proud to serve.”

“Tanya has also grown,” smiled Jenneva. “Alcea is fortunate to have the two of them.”

As the two Knights of Alcea stood watching the king and queen, King Arik broke away from the group he was talking to and moved to the center of the room. The room fell quiet.

“I promise to keep my words short,” the king said. “Are we all here?”

“No,” General Gregor said loudly. “There are three more coming. I will hurry them along.”

The general moved quickly to the door and exited the room. People began talking again, but the king remained alone in the center of the room. A few moments later, the door opened again and the general walked through and returned to where he had been standing. He left the door open and the king raised an eyebrow. Before he had a chance to say anything, Wylan and Sheri walked through the door. Zalaharic entered behind them and closed the door. The room erupted in cheers and shouts of joy. Even the face of Alexander Tork broke into a smile.

“Blessed Sword!” exclaimed King Arik as he moved towards the couple and embraced each of them in turn. “Now we have yet another reason to celebrate.”

Everyone in the room wanted to talk to the two Knights of Alcea, but Wylan merely bowed to the king. Sheri smiled broadly and curtsied and then the couple moved to the side of the room so that the king might address everyone. The room fell quiet again.

“I said that I would be brief,” King Arik began, “and I will be brief. The main purpose of bringing you all here tonight is to make sure that your views of this war are written down and preserved for future generations, but it also allows me a chance to tell all of you how we fared during the 13 Day War, and how much I appreciate the sacrifices made by all Alceans.”

The king unfolded a piece of paper and looked at it before continuing, “In the last thirteen days, we lost over eleven-thousand Alcean patriots, a loss that will be greatly mourned throughout the kingdom. The Federation lost over sixty-five-thousand men. That is such a large number that it is hard to fathom, but there are larger numbers yet. We captured over one-hundred-fifteen-thousand Zarans in the three provinces of Lanoir, Sordoa, and Targa. We also have isolated sixty-thousand more in an alternate Universe. That is a far better result than any of us had imagined when this war began.”

The king folded up the paper and continued, “We were able to accomplish this great feat because of the people who make Alcea what it is. If we had had to depend only upon the humans among us, we would have failed miserably, but Alcea is much more than just humans. Without the elves and the dwarves, we would have lost battles in all three provinces. Without the dragons and the unicorns, we could never have even made it to some of the battles, never mind win them, and without the fairies, we would have been fighting blind, with no knowledge of enemy movements or even our own. The Federation generals never counted on such support for our war effort, and that is why they lost. We cannot expect them to act so foolishly in the future. That is why our fight must be carried to Zara. The Federation must be destroyed completely, and that part of the war will begin soon. Some of us in this room will be involved in battles over there, but all of us in this room will be involved in the struggle in one way or another.”

King Arik paused and gazed around the room at the people gathered. “I just mentioned that we have one-hundred-seventy-five-thousand Zarans under our control. Most of those men have been placed in internment camps where we are responsible for feeding them and tending to their welfare. This task is not to be taken lightly. I want these prisoners well cared for. Other than the security provisions to keep them from escaping, I want them treated as guests in our country. They will not be given rotten food or filthy water. They will eat as well as our own soldiers, or even better. If there is a shortage of food, the Zarans will be fed first.”

Murmurs ran around the room at the king’s statement, and he paused to allow the noise to die.

“These men will eventually be repatriated to their homeland after the Federation is destroyed,” the king continued. “We have already taught them that we Alceans are not prone to laying down our arms before an enemy. Now I want them to remember that the Alceans treated them well. If we fail to do this, another generation of Zarans will grow up with its eyes on our riches, and we will go to war again. I will not leave such a legacy to our children, and neither will any of you. Go out of your way to ensure that the Zarans are well taken care of. In this way we preserve our own future generations.”