Alutar: The Great Demon (35 page)

“But you would be alive,” the captain pointed out. The colonel frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but the captain held up his hand in a plea to continue. “I am not a coward, Colonel, and I know that you are not, either, but these Alceans have us beat. We can not even bloody them while they have their way with us. If we continue towards Calusa, the Rangers will once again raise the flag of truce. You will refuse to surrender because your pride will not allow it. In doing so, you will have condemned every single man in this column to death. Dead men do not serve the Federation very well, Colonel. The only way this portion of the 31
^st
Corps can serve the Federation is to turn around and make haste towards Waxhaw.”

“You want me to retreat in the face of the enemy?” scoffed Colonel Rhio.

“Look over my shoulder, Colonel,” the captain said softly. “Look at the remnants of the 31
^st
Corps. Those men are ready to bolt into the woods the moment the officers take their eyes off of them. We no longer have a fighting force. We have a bunch of scared men in Federation uniforms. The Rangers have played their hand rather well. The killing of forty sentries hit the men harder than losing eight hundred men to a sniping attack. If you try pushing these men towards Calusa, most of them will not be in the column come morning. Trust me on this. They will flee during the night.”

“I think you are exaggerating,” retorted the colonel. “I am sure that some of them are afraid, but these lads are not deserters.”

“They know that we will only receive three offers to surrender,” stated the captain, “and they know about the notes shoved into the sentries’ mouths. The men are not stupid, Colonel. If the Rangers show another white flag, you will lose control of your army. We must turn around and return to Waxhaw.”

Colonel Rhio fell silent. He stared over the captain’s shoulder at the men and then turned to stare along the road southward towards Calusa. Eventually, he sighed deeply and nodded.

“You are correct, Captain,” the colonel said wearily. “This column would be of no use in Calusa if we did manage to get it there. You are also right that I would not surrender. I would rather die than kneel before my enemy. Notify the unit commanders that we are turning around. I don’t have the stomach to face them right now.”

Captain Hahn nodded sadly and turned to inform the column that they were returning home.

* * * *

Colonel Pfaff and General Forshire arrived at the Royal Palace in Waxhaw. The colonel led the general through the gates of the palace and to the office of King Daramoor. As he did so, he saw some of the Vinaforan soldiers pointing at the general and chuckling under their breath. He was embarrassed by their behavior, and he hoped that the general did not notice, but he felt as if General Forshire noticed everything. If the A Corps commander did notice, he did not let it show.

“Report to your king as we discussed,” General Forshire said softly. “When you are done with your report, advise the king that General Forshire wishes to speak to him. I will wait here.”

Clint sat on a bench in the corridor outside the king’s office, not far from the two guards flanking the door. Colonel Pfaff entered the office. Before he had a chance to speak, the king ordered one of the guards to get General Nazzaro. Colonel Pfaff knew enough to remain silent until the general arrived, which was only minutes later. When the general sat down, Colonel Pfaff began his report.

“The rebels will no longer be a problem in Vinafor,” Colonel Pfaff declared. “I must report that we incurred severe casualties during the fighting. Fifteen hundred of our men will not be coming back to Waxhaw.”

“Fifteen hundred?” gasped the general. “Are you that incompetent that you could throw away three fourths of your men to kill a handful of rebels?”

“The merchant’s report was inaccurate,” Colonel Pfaff replied defensively. “The rebels numbered over three thousand.”

“Three thousand?” frowned the king. “I had no idea that there were that many of them. What about General Blackmoor?”

“His death was confirmed,” answered Colonel Pfaff, “but his body was unrecoverable. We managed to back the rebels up against the Lombardi River. I am afraid that the so-called general’s body was swept away with the flow of the river, but I saw him die myself. There is no doubt that he is dead.”

“Well done, Pfaff,” congratulated the king. “You have proved to be quite resourceful.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” the colonel responded.

“He lost fifteen hundred men,” objected the general. “How can you congratulate him? What are we to use for defense of the city now? We have but three thousand men left.”

“King Daramoor,” interjected the colonel, “I happened to run across a Federation army on the Lombardi Road. They arrived at the tail end of the battle and helped us finish off the rebels. I took the liberty of inviting them to Waxhaw until General Tauman arrived with the 1
^st
Corps. General Forshire of the A Corps is waiting outside to speak with you.”

“Forshire?” glowered the general. “The A Corps is a bunch of misfits, not an army.”

“He has two thousand men under his command,” retorted the colonel. “I thought that we could use the extra men until Colonel Rhio returns from Calusa.”

“You have done well, Pfaff,” stated the king. “Send General Forshire in as you leave.”

Colonel Pfaff saluted and withdrew from the room. He told General Forshire to go in, and Clint rose and entered the king’s office. He walked to the desk and sat in the chair next to General Nazzaro.

“Have you no manners, Forshire?” scowled General Nazzaro. “You did not bow to the king, and you sat without leave to do so.”

“I do not recall asking for a meeting with you, General Nazzaro,” retorted General Forshire. “I am here to speak with King Daramoor. As for your rude questions, I am not Vinaforan, therefore I have no obligation to bow to King Daramoor. As for leave to sit, it was obvious to me that permission was not required as you were already sitting when I came in. Anyone who would give leave to have you sit, certainly would not hesitate to offer me the same courtesy.”

King Daramoor raised an eyebrow as he listened to verbal dueling. It was clear that there was some tension between the two generals, and Daramoor always liked to know who everyone was allied with. He held his tongue and watched the incident play out.

“How dare you compare yourself favorably to me?” scowled General Nazzaro. “I command a true army, not a band of misfits.”

“Until yesterday,” General Forshire countered, “the 31
^st
Corps had accomplished nothing in its entire history. My band of misfits, as you call them, is the only army to have hunted down Alcean rebels and eliminated them, including the powerful mage that destroyed the Federation
 
fleet and the shipyards in Giza. Your lack of success aside, you are but one of Kyrga’s many generals. I am the Imperial General of the Federation. I report directly to Emperor Jaar.” Clint turned to gaze at the king. “I had wished to have a private conversation with you, King Daramoor, but if you are already engaged in another matter, I will wait until it is concluded.”

Clint stood to leave, but King Daramoor spoke quickly. “No, General Forshire, please wait. General Nazzaro was just leaving.”

General Nazzaro glared at General Forshire, but he rose and exited the room. Clint looked at the king and found him smiling.

“I take it that you and Nazzaro do not get along,” chuckled the king. “Do you have proof of your words regarding your position in the Federation?”

Clint reached in his pouch and withdrew the proclamation. He handed it to the king. “I do not suffer fools well, King Daramoor, and Nazzaro is worse than a fool. He is incompetent and subversive.”

King Daramoor read the proclamation and handed it back to the general. “I must admit that I had not heard of an Imperial General. I thought you were bluffing. Why do you say that Nazzaro is subversive?”

“He covets your throne,” the general declared.

“What?” frowned the king. “Do you realize what you are accusing him of?”

“I know what I said, King Daramoor,” replied the general, “and I meant what I said. You do know that General Garibaldi is dead, don’t you?”

“I received word of his death,” the king nodded. “What of it?”

“I believe that Nazzaro arranged for Garibaldi to die,” accused General Forshire. “You are aware that he was in Despair at the time of Garibaldi’s death?”

“I was not told about the timing of Garibaldi’s death,” answered King Daramoor, “but I do know that Nazzaro attended the celebration last fall. Did you know Garibaldi?”

“I shared a dining room in the Imperial Palace with Garibaldi and Fabio of Karamin,” answered General Forshire. “It was Garibaldi who warned me about Nazzaro. During the celebration, I got a chance to learn more about Nazzaro. I even got to watch him make a fool of himself. There was a wealthy Vinaforan lord there, and Nazzaro ridiculed the man, almost cost him a great deal of money by spoiling a contract with some Baroukan lords. I also heard him disparage you. He claimed that you were unfit as a general and more so as a king. He tried to promote himself as your replacement rather than Garibaldi. How convenient it must have been for him to have Garibaldi die that week.”

King Daramoor’s brow creased heavily. “So you were meant as the replacement for King Mectin of Tyronia?” he asked. “Is that why you were sharing a dining room with Fabio and Garibaldi?”

“That is correct,” General Forshire nodded. “Frankly, they sent the wrong man from Ur to Despair. I have no desire to rule. I am a general and that is all I want to be. You heard Nazzaro call the A Corps a band of misfits. That is what most of the Federation generals believe. In fairness to them, most of my men were recruited out of the prisons from Despair to Giza, so I guess they can be called misfits, but I have trained those men well, and they are the most loyal of Federation soldiers. That is what a general does, is it not? He takes raw materials in the form of untrained men, and he makes a fighting force out of them. That is what gives me joy, and I would place the A Corps against any Federation army. I have no slackers in the A Corps.”

King Daramoor grew irritable through the general’s monologue. He could not care less about the A Corps, but he did not want to appear anxious to learn more about Nazzaro.

“Who was the Vinaforan noble?” the king asked.

“Lord Zachary,” answered Clint. “He is a little known lord in Vinafor, but he is among the wealthiest of your landowners. I met him a couple of years ago when he journeyed to Ur to enter into some business deal with Sidney Mercado. I was assigned to escort him around town.”

“A general to escort a nobleman?” questioned the king.

“He was a personal friend of King Myer,” answered Clint. “Anything less than a general would have been considered a slight in King Myer’s mind.”

“His name does not ring a bell,” frowned the king. “Are you sure that he is Vinaforan?”

“Without a doubt,” answered the Imperial General. “Ask Colonel Pfaff about him. I seem to remember the colonel mentioning his name. Speaking of Colonel Pfaff,” the general said as if some thought just brightened a corner of his mind, “you have an excellent officer in that man. I happened to arrive as he was finishing off the rebels yesterday. His force was outnumbered, yet he managed to place the enemy right where he wanted them, and he defeated them soundly. If you wish to send him off to Despair, I would be happy to sponsor him as a general. He shows a clear understanding of strategy and tactics. He also was able to motivate his men well, and use their strengths against the enemy’s weakness. He has a bright future.”

“I will discuss it with him,” the king replied dryly. “What do I have to do to get rid of Nazzaro? Is there a mechanism in the Federation for requesting a new Commanding General?”

“There is,” frowned General Forshire, “but I would advise against using it. There would have to be a hearing held to discuss the failures of Nazzaro and your reasons for wanting him dismissed. Once Nazzaro learned of the proceedings, he would have you killed.”

“He wouldn’t dare,” scoffed the king.

“Wouldn’t he?” retorted General Forshire. “He would have nothing to lose. What do you think Despair does with disgraced generals?”

“Then how do I get rid of him?” scowled the king.

General Forshire smiled thinly. “I should think that the answer is obvious, King Daramoor, but let me make a suggestion. Should Nazzaro die unexpectedly, Grand General Kyrga will appoint one of his cronies to become the Commanding General of Vinafor. If you should ever find yourself in that position, elevate one of your own people to the post before informing Despair of Nazzaro’s death. The replacement of Nazzaro would then become a minor inconvenience, and Despair would probably never get around to appointing a replacement. You will end up with a Commanding General that is loyal to Vinafor and you.”

King Daramoor nodded silently as his mind thought of the possibilities. “I don’t suppose the A Corps…”

“No, King Daramoor,” Clint responded before the king could ask. “We will not get involved in the affair. My men are soldiers, not assassins. I should also warn you that if you intend to assign this to a junior officer, do not assign it to the man you plan to elevate. If his involvement was discovered, it would look bad for both him and you.”

“If I were to ever contemplate such a thing,” the king said with a dismissive wave. “Of course, that is not something we do in Vinafor, but I do appreciate hearing your thoughts on the matter, General Forshire. Thank you for visiting today. I will have a suite in the palace made ready for you.”

“I appreciate the hospitality, King Daramoor.”

Clint rose and exited the king’s office. As soon as he was gone, the king ordered one of his guards to find Colonel Pfaff. Moments later, the colonel entered the king’s office, and the king waved him to a chair.

“Who is Lord Zachary?” asked the king.

“He is probably the wealthiest man in Vinafor,” answered Colonel Pfaff. “He is something of a hermit, though. He has a vast estate along the Lombardi River, and he owns many of the vineyards up there, though he holds many of them in the names of others.”