Alutar: The Great Demon (41 page)

“I am not as skeptical as Samuel,” stated Prince Harold. “I do believe that the Alceans have stated their goals truthfully. Perhaps that is because of my relationship with Zalaharic, but my nature is to seek confirmation wherever I can find it. I am sorry if that upsets you, but I am very pleased to have you confirm my beliefs. I think it is time that I met my father.”

Garth’s eyes widened with concern. “Meet your father?” he echoed. “Your father wants you dead. I did not bring you to Farmin to sacrifice you to the Federation.”

“You brought me to Ertak to see the misery that my people have to endure,” retorted Prince Harold. “I have now seen that. If I am to be of any help to them, I must be in the line of succession. That is something that only my father can accomplish.”

“There is an added danger to that plan, Harold,” Natia said softly. “Some people are trying to kill your father. Think of what it would look like if you suddenly showed up in Farmin and then your father was killed. It would be particularly bad if your father was not overjoyed to see you.”

Prince Harold bit his lower lip as he stared at Natia. He eventually nodded. “That makes it even more important for me to see him soon. If he does not have long to live, I must get him to recognize me now.”

“You are not listening,” Garth scowled. “You took only what you wanted to hear out of Natia’s words. You are worth nothing to the people of Ertak if you are dead.”

“I am worth nothing to them alive if someone else replaces my father,” countered Prince Harold. “I have heard your objections. I am willing to concede that your words are true. Now try to understand me, Garth. I have been worthless my entire life. I have sat around waiting to die. Death no longer scares me. Zalaharic has given me a new life, and I vowed that I would not waste this one. I will see my father, and he will acknowledge me as his heir. I will accept nothing less.”

“What if he refuses?” asked Natia.

“He won’t,” stated Prince Harold. “He can’t. He has no one left to call his own. I can only lose if I have been specifically removed from the line of succession, and my father refuses to reinstate me. If that is the case, my bid to lead Ertak would have failed anyway. Don’t you see, I have to meet with him. Ertak must see that I am accepted as fit to rule. They must know that the king accepts me. Otherwise, I will start my reign with the elite trying to undermine my every move.”

“They will try that anyway if you plan to favor the poor,” Natia pointed out.

“No doubt,” agreed Prince Harold, “but they will have no justification for their actions. They will be seen for what they truly are, and that is something the wealthy never want. They like to hide behind benevolent shields. Besides, many of them will try to court my favor, hoping that they can ride out the financial storm. It will not be easy, but it will be manageable.”

Garth inexplicably smiled. “You are more than even I gave you credit for. The people of Ertak will flourish under your reign.” Garth walked to the window and stared out at the sea for a moment before turning back to face the prince. “You shall see your father, but we will do this my way. I will not allow you to throw your life away on the whim of a self-centered, egotistical Federation king. I will gauge your father’s acceptance of you before the meeting.”

“I will meet him regardless of his attitude towards me,” demanded Prince Harold.

“You shall meet him regardless of his acceptance of you,” promised the Knight of Alcea, “but the setting of your meeting may change depending on how safe I feel it will be for you. Is that acceptable to you?”

“Other than the risk you are taking,” frowned Prince Harold. “Why should I allow you to suffer for me?”

“Because I have a knack for getting out of tight spots,” replied Garth.

“I can believe that,” retorted Prince Harold, “but do you have experience dealing with reluctant kings? It seems to be a bit beyond the experience one might expect from a warrior.”

Garth smiled. “You have read the books about Alcea, Prince Harold. I am known there as Alexander Tork, and I have a history of dealing with reluctant kings.”

“Tork?” gasped Prince Harold. “And Samuel and I were trying to best you with swords?”

Prince Samuel looked confused, but Natia started giggling.

“No one can best Alex Tork with a sword,” she said. “That you both weren’t black and blue is a testament to your natural abilities.”

Garth turned serious. “I will arrange a meeting with King Harowin,” he stated as he looked at the princes. “Until then both of you must remain in Natia’s room. It is possible that the king might send someone here to check my room while I am still in the Royal Palace. I wouldn’t want you to be found if that were to happen.”

The workers toiled under the unusually hot afternoon sun outside the western wall of Tagaret. Colonel Borowski, the leader of the Alcean Army, watched with curiosity as the workers raised eight tall poles. The poles stretched away from the city wall in a straight line, each increasingly farther away from the ramparts. Nearby, King Arik was speaking softly to some of his advisors, and the colonel waited patiently for a chance to speak with him. While the colonel waited, he saw several Red Swords arrive with extra packs carried in their hands. He grew more curious. The Red Swords placed the packs on the ground near the king and awaited further instructions. The colonel inched closer to the king, hoping to learn the reason for his summons.

“The attack could come as early as tomorrow,” stated General Gregor. “It depends on how much ground the Federation army travels today and tomorrow morning.”

The king nodded and then saw Colonel Borowski drawing near. He turned to face the colonel.

“Colonel Borowski,” the king said with an appreciative smile, “I need you to organize an archery contest today.”

“An archery contest?” the colonel echoed in confusion. “I do not understand.”

“We need to identify your fifty best archers,” explained the king. “That is why we are setting up the poles as we are. Each of your soldiers will take their first shots at the first pole. The target is to be located one pace above the ground. Based on the results of that contest, you will eliminate half of the soldiers from further competition. Those remaining in the competition will then target the second pole. Again, half of those will be eliminated. The competition will continue in a like manner until the eighth pole is the target. The top fifty men in that contest will be chosen for a certain task during the battle.”

“May I ask what that task will be?” queried the colonel.

“You may,” smiled King Arik. “Those men will be reserved for firing at any siege engines that the Federation might bring against our walls. They will be equipped with fire glue and given free rein to fire whenever they think they can successfully hit an engine.”

Colonel Borowski frowned. “Such a contest would take days to complete,” he said. “We don’t have the time.”

“We won’t have the time during the battle either,” retorted General Gregor. “The contest need not be formal. Have each soldier carve his initials into his arrow. The men will step to the wall in groups of a hundred, fire, and walk away. The arrows will all be collected at the end of the round and the results announced as the arrows are returned to their owners. There will be no ranking involved. The arrows will be either in the winning half or the losing half. It is as simple as that. All eight rounds should be completed before sunset as the poles will need to be moved then.”

“The poles will be moved?” questioned the colonel. “Will they not be left in place to help the archers determine their range?”

“No, Colonel,” the king responded with a nod towards the packs just brought by the Red Swords. “Each pole will support the head of one of the Federation generals who died during the War in Alcea. The poles will be moved to new positions that will present the greatest psychological impact on the approaching army. I want the men of that army to understand that they are in for a fierce battle. The dead generals will announce that to them.”

“I understand,” Colonel Borowski said. “The contest will begin within the hour.”

* * * *

General Askor of the 37
^th
Corps stared in horror at the city wall and the thousands of arrows streaming from it, and all of them were aimed at him. Even as his men scaled the walls towards victory, the arrows continued to come towards him. He tried to turn away from the city walls, but whenever he did, he bumped into a tall pole. Bumping into the poles was not what produced the terror in his heart. It was the heads upon the poles that fell on him each time he made contact with one of the poles. The heads all held expressions of terror on their faces, and it seemed as if each of the dead men was trying to tell him something. Their grotesque mouths opened as if screaming, but the words came out like wisps of the wind. He could not understand what they were trying to say, and that seemed to make them scream all the more. As terrifying as it was, the worst of it were the faces. He recognized them all. He saw Fortella, Franz, Gattas, and Kolling. Omirro, Montero, Whitman, and Ritka were also there. They were all Federation generals just like him, and they wanted him to understand something, something important.

General Askor bolted upright and stared into the darkness of his tent. There were no city walls before him, and no arrows streaming towards him. He reached and ran a hand through his hair. His hand came away covered in sweat. He realized that he had had a bad dream and tried to shake off the feeling of terror, but his face clouded with confusion as the sounds drifted to his ears. They were the sounds of men shouting and cursing, and he was sure that it was not part of his dream. He rose to his feet and rushed to the flap of his tent. He moved the flap enough to see outside. The two sentries immediately turned to look at him.

“What is going on?” asked the general.

“Bugs, General,” one of the sentries answered. “Bugs are attacking the campsite.”

“Bugs?” echoed the general, his face distorted with disbelief. “Find Colonel Hildon and have him report to me immediately.”

General Askor did not wait for a response. He let the flap fall back in place. He made his way to the table and lit a lantern. Filling a basin with some water, he quickly rinsed his face and then got dressed. By the time he was done, Colonel Hildon had arrived.

“Report, Colonel,” the general said tersely.

“I don’t understand it, General,” reported the colonel, “but insects are attacking the men. More than insects, actually. It started with ants, mosquitoes, and spiders, but centipedes, snakes, and even bats are now attacking us. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Vermin are attacking my army?” scowled General Askor. “Did I hear you right?”

“Yes, General. The entire camp is awake at the moment. The situation is quite chaotic.”

General Askor merely waved dismissively at the colonel as he sat down at the table. Colonel Hildon left the tent, and General Eylor entered. The general of the 38
^th
Corps sat down at the table and looked questioningly at the Force Leader.

“Our tents appear to be the only places in the encampment not affected,” stated General Eylor. “Kind of strange, isn’t it?”

“I think I would have been willing to suffer a few insect bites rather than have that dream,” General Askor commented in a distracted manner.

“You had a dream?” General Eylor asked anxiously. “Were there heads in it?”

General Askor’s head snapped towards his fellow general, and his eyes widened with wonder. “They were on poles,” he said softly.

“Just outside the city walls,” General Eylor nodded. “I did not think that it was a dream.”

“What are you saying?” frowned General Askor. “Of course it was a dream.”

“That both of us just happened to have at the same time?” scoffed General Eylor. “I think not. It was a warning. Dreams are always recognized as dreams when one awakens, but this did not feel like a dream. Some entity is warning us that the Alceans know that we are coming. I can feel it.”

“That is nonsense,” General Askor said with bluster. “Do you really believe that the gods would come and speak in our minds to warn us about the Alceans?”

“Not the gods,” General Eylor frowned. “Quite the opposite. The dream had a certain taint to it. I felt unclean when I awoke. Didn’t you?”

General Askor had not thought much about it, but as he reflected on his waking moments, he had to nod. Still, he thought the idea of anyone speaking to him in his mind was absurd.

“And that would probably explain the lack of creatures near our tents,” General Eylor continued. “Perhaps the insects can sense the source of the taint and avoided it.”

“I cannot think as you do,” General Askor shook his head exaggeratedly.

“Forget the dream,” urged General Eylor. “Do not think any more about it, but answer this question from your heart. Do you think the Alceans know that we are coming?”

“Yes,” General Askor answered without hesitation. “I can not say why I feel that way, but I do, and strongly.”

“That is what we were supposed to feel,” General Eylor nodded with satisfaction. “I am not sure if the rest of the dream has meaning, but I awoke very sure that we have been discovered somehow. The question now, is what do we do about that? How do our plans change if the Alceans know that we are coming?”

“I am not sure that our plans need to change,” replied General Askor. “At least not based upon what the Alceans know. We may have to change our plans because of the insect attack, though. Hildon reported that the entire camp is awake. If that is true, we cannot force march the men tomorrow and arrive at the walls of Tagaret. The men would be fatigued. We will have to have another encampment tomorrow before reaching the city.”

“I concur,” nodded General Eylor. “Colonel Hildon’s report is accurate. The entire camp is awake, and they are itching and scratching. It is amazing that a mighty army such as ours can be slowed down by the smallest of things, but it hardly matters in the long run. We were pushing our men so that we could attack Tagaret without warning. That is no longer an option, so we should ensure that the men are well rested.”