Alutar: The Great Demon (27 page)

Those black-cloaks within Camp Destiny reacted swiftly and with alarm. Shouts of attack rang out through the huge campsite of the 1
^st
Corps, and General Tauman arrived almost immediately.

“What is it?” the general demanded.

“Someone is using battle magic within the tunnel,” the head of the black-cloaks replied excitedly. “Our sentries might be retreating from an attack on the small camp.”

“Your mages were supposed to stand their ground, Cirrus,” scowled the general. “They are the early warning of an attack. If they have retreated into the tunnel and yielded the mouth to the enemy, I will have them hanged. Get some men into that tunnel and determine the situation.”

“We could use some archers to help,” stated Cirrus.

General Tauman glanced at the tunnel entrance and saw Colonel Dorfan already sending archers into the tunnel. He nodded with approval.

“The archers are already being sent to the defensive slits in the tunnel wall,” he declared. “I will assign another squad of archers to your detail. Now get moving.”

The 1
^st
Corps had a larger than normal complement of black-cloaks, and the head of the detachment gathered over a dozen battle mages to investigate the disturbance. General Tauman watched the group depart and then rode over to speak with Colonel Dorfan.

“Send a squad of archers with the mages,” the general instructed. “The mages seem to be afraid of the dark.”

Colonel Dorfan nodded with a smirk on his face and turned to give the order to a nearby squad. When the archers were dispatched, the colonel turned back to the general.

“Should I sound the alarm?” asked Colonel Dorfan.

“All of the men have already assembled here for the trip to Waxhaw,” mused the general, “but it couldn’t hurt. Sound the alarm and then get the men into a defensive position. I can’t imagine any army fighting its way into this valley, but we will be prepared just in case.”

“Who do you think it is?” asked the colonel as he signaled a runner to sound the alarm.

General Tauman stared at the entrance to the tunnel for a moment before responding. “Anyone could take out the one hundred men we have stationed at the other end of the tunnel,” he eventually said, “but it would take a massive army to survive the trip through the tunnel. The beauty of the outpost is that it allows us all the time in the world to prepare to meet the enemy. What concerns me is that we should not have such an enemy here in Zara.”

“Unless the horse countries found a way through the Forest of Death,” mused Colonel Dorfan.

“No,” the general shook his head. “Even if they did find a way through that infernal forest, they would not be attacking us here. They would seize Olansk and march south on Giza.” The general’s brow creased deeply and he stared blankly through the colonel. He shook his head and continued, “Or maybe they would attempt to seize Tyronia. Now that would make sense. Adding another nation to the Occan fold would make them better prepared to defend against the Federation, but I still cannot imagine such a scenario. More likely, someone is trying to keep us boxed up in this hidden valley.”

“So we can’t respond to Waxhaw’s needs?” questioned the colonel.

“Exactly,” nodded General Tauman. “It would not take a great force to block the tunnel for a few days, but why would our black-cloaks flee from such a rabble as the Vinaforan rebels?”

“They fear archers,” offered the colonel as blaring horns started sounding the alarm. “Perhaps they sought the safety of the tunnel to preserve their lives.”

“Perhaps,” scowled the general, “but they will lose their lives if that is the case. I will not stand for cowardice among my men. Have all of the Despair pigeons been loaded for transport yet?”

“They have,” answered the colonel. “Are you thinking of sending a message about our situation?”

“Despair needs to be notified if we are indeed under attack,” answered General Tauman, “but I also feel compelled to offer my thoughts on other matters. Get me one of the pigeons. I will be in my tent.”

The colonel turned and departed. General Tauman turned his horse and rode back to his tent. Men were already surrounding the tent with the intent of breaking it down and loading it for transport. He ordered them to stop and dismounted. He entered the tent and sat on a crate, pulling another crate close to him to use as a table. By the time Colonel Dorfan arrived with the pigeon, the general had his thoughts down on paper, but he still needed to wait for a report from the tunnel before sending off his note. He handed the note to the colonel to read.

“You think the rebels in Karamin and Vinafor are working in concert?” questioned Colonel Dorfan.

“It is a hunch,” nodded the general. “If I were to plan a revolt in Calusa, I would expect Federation reinforcements from Waxhaw. Would it not make sense then to contact the rebels in Waxhaw and have them revolt at the same time? Would it not also make sense that Vinafor would expect reinforcements to come through Ramaldi Pass?”

“It makes perfect sense,” frowned the colonel, “but how would any of the rebels know about Camp Destiny? Many of our own Federation forces were not aware of this camp until the invasion of Alcea.”

“Quite true,” nodded the general, “and we know how well that invasion went. The Alceans had to have received intelligence from someone highly placed in the Federation army. That same person could easily have supplied our location to the rebels.”

“You suspect someone, don’t you?” inquired the colonel. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“General Forshire,” spat General Tauman. “Something about that man has bothered me from the day we met. He may have Emperor Jaar and Grand General Kyrga fooled, but Forshire is a man of ambition. He is not the type of man to be content leading a small band of misfits.”

“He is supposed to be the backup for King Mectin of Tyronia,” frowned the colonel. “If he is as devious as you think, wouldn’t he be trying to seize power in Tyronia?”

“I am sure that is on his agenda,” replied the general, “but I suspect he wants even more than that. If he is in league with the rebels of Vinafor and Karamin, he may be trying to carve out a kingdom consisting of all of the lands west of the Barrier. I will almost guarantee that it is the A Corps boxing us up in this valley.”

A runner threw open the tent flap and raced inside. He ignored the glare of General Tauman and saluted while he tried to regain his breath.

“It is dwarves,” he blurted out.

“What is dwarves?” scowled General Tauman. “What are you talking about?”

“Dwarves hold the far end of the tunnel,” the runner explained, “and they have mages among them. There is an invisible shield across the mouth of the tunnel. Not even an arrow can pierce it. The black-cloaks cannot cast spells beyond it, either. What are your instructions?”

General Tauman stared at the runner as if the man had gone crazy. For several long moments, he said nothing. Eventually, he looked the runner in the eye.

“You saw these dwarves with your own eyes?” he asked.

“I did, General,” answered the runner. “They are grotesque beasts, and their battleaxes are large enough to cleave a horse in two, but they are not attacking. They are just standing on the other side of the invisible shield, and they are…”

The runner halted, and the general’s face grew red with anger.

“Out with it,” he commanded. “What are they doing?”

“They are laughing at us, General,” the runner replied. “They are just standing there laughing at us.”

General Tauman stood, tearing his message from the colonel’s hands. He tore the message up and tossed the shreds to the floor. For several minutes he paced the floor of his tent, trying to make sense out of what he was hearing. Dwarves in Zara had been extinct for over four hundred years. That left only the dwarves in Alcea, but how could they have traveled to Zara unless the Alceans had portals of their own. And if the Alceans had portals, it would not only be dwarves coming to Zara, but others as well. Suddenly the general remembered the message from Despair. It had made an off-hand comment about Alcean Rangers in Calusa. Tauman had brushed that aside as unlikely, but now he wondered. If Alcea had sent dwarves to Zara, an attack by the Rangers made more sense. He started to ponder where the Red Swords might be, but shouts from outside the tent distracted him. He looked towards the tent flap expectantly. The flap flew aside and a sergeant raced into the tent.

“We have a problem, General,” the sergeant said excitedly. “We have water flowing into the camp from the west.”

“Water?” frowned the general. “Since when is a little water a problem for the 1
^st
Corps?”

“Not a little water, General,” the sergeant replied. “It is a lot of water. It is as if a dam has burst. There is a wave rolling towards us.”

The general raced outside and stared to the west. In the distance he could see the deluge approaching. He knew immediately what had happened.

“Dorfan!” the general shouted. “Get everything off the ground. Get every available man to build a semicircular berm around the tunnel entrance. It has to protect an area large enough to hold the entire 1
^st
Corps.”

“A berm?” questioned the colonel.

“A berm,” repeated the general. “They are trying to flood us. As soon as you get the berm started, gather every available mage. Someone has managed to infiltrate the valley and open a large number of portals to Alcea.”

“But that will flood the entire valley,” gasped the colonel. “A berm will never stop it.”

“The berm is to give us enough time to defeat those dwarves blocking us in here,” retorted the general. “Get it started now!”

Colonel Dorfan took off at a run. General Tauman returned to his tent and hastily scribbled a new message for Despair. Just as he was finishing up the message a black-cloak entered the tent.

“You sent for me?” asked Cirrus.

“I sent for more than just you,” snapped the general. “I have tasks for your people, and they need to be addressed immediately. The first task is to get
 
enough mages across the valley to shut the portals before we all drown. Secondly, I want the shields those dwarves are holding to be destroyed. We need to get men outside the tunnel to start pushing the dwarves back.”

“Their shields are impressive,” frowned the black-cloak. “We have been battering them with everything we can think of, but they do not even seem to be weakening. I suspect that they have a host of mages out there reinforcing each other’s spells.”

“Then get some mages over the mountains to attack them from behind,” ordered General Tauman. “Unless your magic works well underwater, it will soon be worthless unless we either get those portals closed or the tunnel opened.”

“I will see to it,” promised Cirrus.

The black-cloak retreated from the tent and called for his mages to assemble. Before his men could respond, the wave hit, toppling soldiers and mages alike. Cirrus managed to maintain his footing, but many of his fellow mages were completely soaked when they reported in. Cirrus shook his head in disgust.

“We have been ordered to close the portals on the other side of the valley,” Cirrus explained. “Twenty-four of you are to fly westward and accomplish that mission. The rest of you are to fly over the Barrier and attack the dwarves on the other end of the tunnel. Do whatever you must to get those shields down.”

Cirrus proceeded to count off his mages and assign them to their tasks. When the men were assigned, he watched them climb onto a ledge to transform and take to the air.

The birds flying westward paired off and then spread out so that one pair headed for each of the twelve western portals. The northernmost pair of birds headed for door number one, the first portal to Carid in Cordonia. The mages knew the locations of the portals, but they could not see the door when they arrived in the area. The floodwaters were already so high that the doors were underwater. The only things extending out of the flood were the tall trees of the forest. The birds circled trying to locate the actual doors. As they flew past one of the large trees, two arrows flew from within the branches of the trees. Both birds immediately transformed into their human forms and fell to the waters below.

“Good shooting, dwarves,” chirped Dew. “Should I levitate you to safety now?”

“Not yet,” answered Frack. “They might send another pair when these two don’t return.”

“Right,” agreed Rik. “We will stay here until the water starts to rise up to us. Make sure you don’t fall asleep, fairy. I don’t want to have to swim to the side of the mountain.”

“I have already slept enough waiting for this moment,” quipped the fairy. “I will stay right here until you are ready.”

* * * *

On the eastern peaks of the hidden valley, dwarven archers stood ready for the expected flight of birds. When the starlings did arrive, they came en masse, but the archers did not let a single one of them pass over the peaks. Black-cloak bodies dropped from the sky and smashed onto the rugged crags below. The whole exercise was over in moments, and the dwarves settled back down in case another flock attempted the same maneuver.

“One of those birds did not turn into a human when I shot it,” worried one of the dwarven archers. “Do you think it is still alive?”

“That one was a pigeon,” laughed a fellow dwarf. “It probably just chose the wrong time to take to the sky. Don’t worry about it. I saw it hit the rocks below. It is dead.”

* * * *

General Tauman stood on a rock ledge, the water lapping at his feet. He watched in horror as his men tried to stay afloat. Some of them tried to cling to the face of the mountain, but the waves that rolled in dashed the men against the rocks. The berm he ordered constructed had never been completed before the rising waters made it a pointless exercise. The tunnel was now completely underwater and his men were discarding their weapons so that the weight would not drag them down. Hundreds of his men had started scaling the sides of the mountain, but only one of his regiments had any real skill in mountain climbing. He had hoped that some of them could cross the mountain peaks and attack the dwarves, but he soon discarded such optimism when one of his men fell to his death with an arrow in his chest. It appeared that the dwarves also held the high ground and escape over the peaks was merely an illusion. He watched in dismay as the finest fighting force in the Federation was reduced to men treading water in hopes that the rising floodwaters would reverse course. The general knew that was not going to happen, and he watched as man after man went under and did not surface again.