Ancient Prophecy (20 page)

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Authors: Richard S. Tuttle,Richard S. Tuttle

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Young Adult

BOOK: Ancient Prophecy
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“I know, John,” the Targan Prince replied. We think we know how Mitchel got elected. The chest of gold that was supposedly from King Byron was planted to make Suarez look bad. We also think that Alvira and Rivera were killed before they dropped out of the race. Do you remember how Mordac portrayed King Austin? We think that Mitchel has done the same with the other two candidates.”

“You think President Mitchel has ties with magicians?” queried Secor.

“Not ties with magicians, John,” sighed Oscar. “Mitchel is a Black Devil and not just any Black Devil either. He is one of Sarac’s Inner Circle. Sarac has found a way back and he’s planning to destroy Targa. Do you remember Aurora?”

John slumped into a chair and stared at Prince Oscar. “Yeah, I remember her. What has she got to do with this?”

“She is now the Empress of Sordoa,” sighed Prince Oscar. “Ali Kasim died. Sarac seeks to use the armies of Sordoa and Cordonia against Targa once again.”

“What can I do?” asked John.

“I think General Fernandez is a straight arrow,” speculated Oscar. “If he knows that Mitchel stole the election and plans to use Cordonia’s army for Sarac’s needs, he may be able to get the army to refuse. I don’t know for sure, John, but it is worth a try. I have something that may help.”

Prince Oscar removed a vial from his pouch and set it on the table and then proceeded to answer Secor’s unasked question. “It is a very strong acid, John. I think Sarac brought gold from the other Universe to bribe officials and voters. The fake gold has a slightly different composition and will be destroyed by this acid, while regular gold will not be harmed. I don’t know if this in itself will convince the General, but it may help. I would also have him look for the bodies of Alvira and Rivera. I suspect that the candidates are long dead and the bodies should get his attention.”

“Oscar,” promised John Secor, “you know I will do whatever I can. Too many people -- good people -- have already died because of this maniac and his lust for power. Do you want to come with me?”

“I don’t think it would help General Fernandez see the truth if it was presented by the Crown Prince of Targa,” replied Oscar. “I am going to stop and see Alex, Jenneva and the baby on my way back to Targa. I have a feeling that we are going to need Alex’s skill before long.”

“Very well,” John said, “but let him have as much time with his family as you can. His task is likely to be deadlier than ours. Did they have a boy or a girl?”

“I’m not sure,” Oscar replied. “Jenneva wanted a girl, but I think Alex had his heart set on a boy. I’ll let you know.”

Prince Oscar left Secor’s shop and headed back to his Door. After passing through Egam’s cave, he entered Jenneva’s study and found Shanor reading. “Hello, Uncle Oscar!” she exclaimed.

“Hello there, squirt,” the Prince greeted. “How about a ride to wherever Alex is?”

“Sure!” the little girl said as she scampered onto Oscar’s shoulders. “He’s outside with the unicorns.”

“Unicorns?” questioned Prince Oscar as he made his way outside through the back door.

Alex looked up at the sound of Oscar’s voice. “Oscar!” he exclaimed. “Boy, is it good to see you.”

“I came as soon as I could,” apologized Oscar. “I was out at Dalek taking care of Callie and the baby and I didn’t get Lord Habas’s message until today. I stopped by Kantor to get John Secor going on trying to inform General Fernandez about Mitchel, but...I’m sorry, I know I’m going too fast and talking about things you are not even aware of.”

Alex looked over at Shanor who had climbed down off Oscar’s back. “Shanor, see if Jenneva needs any help with the baby.”

Alex led Oscar over to a bench by Kaz and Yorra. “I know more than you think, Oscar,” sighed Alex. “Somehow Egam knew of events here and warned us of Sarac’s moves. What is more important than Targa’s troubles right now is getting Callie and your baby to safety.”

“Targa’s troubles and mine are the same,” declared Prince Oscar. “What do Callie and the baby have to do with anything?”

Alex told Oscar about the ancient prophecy and Alutar. “So you can see why it is important to make sure that your family is safe.”

Oscar looked drawn and nodded. “I will send her and the baby to Grakus. We just bought a nice villa there and I don’t think anyone knows about it yet. I’ll make sure that no one does.”

“You should go with them, Oscar,” clarified Alex. “There is nothing you can do in Targa to stop the prophecy.”

“I may not be able to change the prophecy,” explained Prince Oscar, “but I can still minimize the unnecessary loss of Targan lives. If Sordoa and Cordonia are willing to be puppets for Sarac, it will be their blood that is left on the battlefield, not ours.”

“You’re right, of course,” accepted Colonel Tork. “I have been waiting for Jenneva and the baby to feel better before starting out myself, but I guess I have no time left. I have to go to Trekum and make sure Aurora’s child is kept safe. I don’t know how I can accomplish that. I know she will recognize me the moment she sees me, but Jenneva is not yet ready for travel.”

“Trekum is a long way off, Alex,” ventured Prince Oscar. “Why don’t you let the Spiders handle it?”

“I can be in Trekum before you get a message to the Spiders,” offered Alex. “Time is very important now. Things are progressing faster than I thought. Still, I should have time for my manners. Let me introduce you to Kaz and Yorra.”

Alex stood and pulled Prince Oscar over to the unicorns. “They can mind speak, Oscar. The black one is Shamta Kaz and the white is Yorra. Shamta is their title for Prince, so you too have something in common.”

Kaz, Yorra, this is my friend, Prince Oscar of Targa.

Prince Oscar, it is a pleasure to meet a friend of Alex and Jenneva.

Oscar bowed to the unicorns and felt slightly silly, not knowing what the proper protocol was for addressing a unicorn Prince.
Shamta Kaz, Yorra, your greeting warms my heart. Indeed, it is my pleasure to meet you.

We do not stand on ceremonies, Prince Oscar. Yorra and I greet you as a friend. Perhaps one day we will have time to become better acquainted.

Prince Oscar smiled as Alex pulled him back towards the building. “You really have no time left, Oscar. Go and get your family to safety. We can talk later.”

“Amazing creatures,” commented Oscar, “but how do they help you get to Trekum quickly? Are they that much faster than horses?”

Alex chuckled. “They can fly, Oscar, but yes, even on the ground they are considerably faster than horses. Now, get moving.”

Prince Oscar stared at the unicorns and waved goodbye even as Alex was pulling him back towards the study.

“We have a Door to Trekum now,” remembered Oscar. “I can get word to the Spiders through it, or rather, Larc can. He has access to the Royal Palace now through a contract for supplies.”

Alex skidded to a halt. “That’s great!” he exclaimed. “I really didn’t feel very good about leaving Jenneva, anyway. Shanor is a great help, but I just feel better being here myself.”

“Okay,” smiled Oscar, “but I still have to be moving. I will call on you after I get Callie and the baby off to Grakus.”

Oscar disappeared through the Door and proceeded to Dalek. There he hastily packed traveling bags and bundled his family through the Doors to Tagaret. Callie and the baby rested while Oscar arranged passage on the
Princess Lidia
, the Targan Royal Yacht. He also ordered a Door placed on board the ship. On the way to the ship, Prince Oscar explained the prophecy to Princess Callie. Callie’s eyes welled up with tears as she clutched her baby closer to her.

“Nobody is going to use my child as a tool for their own ends,” she declared.

“Nobody knows of our villa in Grakus,” soothed the Crown Prince. “You will be safe there. I will join you when I can, but first I must do all that I can to provide for our people.”

Oscar kissed his child and embraced his wife, holding her for a long time until the Captain coaxed Callie on board. Oscar stood and watched the ship sail out of the harbor, hoping that it would not be too long before he was reunited with his family. With his thoughts as dark as the western sky, Prince Oscar of Targa shuffled his way back to the Royal Palace to begin preparations for the coming war, wondering which neighboring country would be the first to attack.

Once through the gates of the Palace, Oscar hurried to the King’s Study and ordered a meeting with General Gregor, Lord Habas, and Larc. It took nearly an hour for the group to assemble and Prince Oscar spent the time studying the wall map. When everyone was present he told of his conversation with Alex and the details of the prophecy. While he trusted every person in the room, he told them only that he had sent his family away and did not mention their destination. The fewer people who knew where to look for his child, the better he felt. Only Alex and the Captain of the
Princess
Lidia
would know where they were and even they would not know of the exact location. Grakus was a very large island.

After the situation was laid out for the members of the group, Prince Oscar instructed Larc to get someone to protect Aurora’s child. King Byron ordered the recall of General Clark to help map out battle strategies and General Gregor canceled all military leaves and ordered the army to standby for deployment.

John Secor entered the Office of Military Intelligence and asked for General Fernandez. Within moments he was shown into a lavish wood paneled office that was lined with bookshelves and told to take a seat. Instead of sitting, John walked around the room browsing the many volumes of books. The General appeared to have practically every book ever written on military strategy and tactics.

The door opened and the General marched in and greeted John. “John Secor, the painter. Welcome. Please have a seat.”

The General positioned a chair for John and then set himself behind the desk. “Are you interested in military strategy, John?”

“Not really,” admitted John. “I am amazed at your book collection, though. I was not aware that military strategy was such a lengthy topic.”

“Ah,” smiled the General, “but the man who refused the Throne of Targa has not come to my office to discuss military strategy, have you? I also doubt that you desire to paint a portrait of me at my President’s request, so perhaps you can enlighten me?”

John detected the innuendo regarding the President and could tell that the General was not entirely happy with the peoples’ vote. “No, General, I am not a painter today, but a patriot of Cordonia. As you are aware of my refusal to wear the Crown of Targa, you should also be aware of the reason. I am a painter and my home is here in Kantor. I am Cordonian and while I may have close ties to Targa, my concerns today are centered on the welfare of Cordonia’s citizens.”

“As are mine,” interrupted the General.

“I am sure that they are, General. That is what brings me to your office. I hope that I may speak confidentially.”

The General nodded and John Secor continued. “As I stated, I have close ties to Targa, the Crown Prince being my son-in-law. I have received disturbing information from Targa regarding our new President.”

General Fernandez straightened in his chair and struggled to hide his interest. “And what does Targa think about our elections?”

“A number of things,” John offered. “They believe that President Mitchel will force Cordonia to declare war against Targa. A war that will be devastating to both countries.” John watched for a reaction from the General, but the Intelligence Officer did not flinch. “They also believe that President Mitchel stole the election.”

General Fernandez’s eyes grew wide. “And what makes them think that?” he asked calmly.

“A number of reasons,” John stated, “For one, Mitchel is a known Black Devil, a member of Sarac’s Inner Circle.”

“I was led to believe that the magician’s chosen few were banished along with him?” queried the General.

“Indeed they were,” remarked Secor. “It would appear that Sarac has found a way back. His plans include the takeover of both Cordonia and Sordoa. It would seem that he has accomplished both.”

General Fernandez could no longer hide his interest. He had heard reports of Ali Kasim getting married and declaring himself the Emperor, but he also knew Ali Kasim was no magician. “So Ali Kasim is a Black Devil, too?”

“Not at all,” answered John Secor, “but Ali Kasim does not rule Sordoa. He died quite recently and the nation is ruled by the Empress, a woman who was one of Mordac’s closest associates. She calls herself Miriam Rakech, but we know her as Aurora.”

General Fernandez stared at John Secor for a few long moments. He had not received any word of the Emperor’s death, but he had known of Miriam Rakech and could find no records of anyone with that name. He was aware that Aurora had not been killed in the raid on Mordac’s castle, but that proved nothing. “How can they be sure that Sarac is free?”

John reached into his pouch and extracted the vial of acid and a piece of gold that he had already tested and placed them on the General’s desk. “This is a piece of gold from my shop. The vial contains a strong acid, but it will not harm the gold, not this gold. Sarac financed his campaigns using gold from his Universe. The gold appears to be identical to our gold, but it is not. One drop of this acid and his gold will dissolve.”

The General rose and strode over to a cabinet and grabbed a tray and placed it on his desk. He picked up John’s gold and fondled it. He placed the gold on the tray and picked up the vial. He dropped a small amount of acid on the gold and watched it drip onto the tray. Next, he opened a desk drawer and removed a small pouch. He withdrew several small pieces of gold from the pouch and lined them up on the tray. Moving from piece to piece, he placed a small drop of acid on each gold piece. Out of the six gold pieces, two disintegrated.

The General pushed the vial of acid back to John Secor. “This is not really proof of your claims,” he said. “Even if President Mitchel bought things with fake gold, it is not really a matter for Military Intelligence.”

“How about the murders of Alvira and Rivera then,” suggested the painter? “Do you really believe that those two candidates would back Mitchel? Where are they now that the election is over? Please, General Fernandez, do not forget the ability of a Black Devil to assume another person’s identity after their death.”

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