Alutar: The Great Demon (19 page)

Prince Harold thought for a few moments before responding. “No,” he eventually said. “In fact, it reassures me. I understand that you are taking a great personal risk for the benefit of the Ertakan people and me. I am extremely grateful for that. You indicated that more of your people would be involved in this journey. Where are they?”

“Two of them are escorting Prince Samuel of Spino,” answered Garth. “They will be along shortly. Another two are waiting for us in Farmin. There will be others as well, but I will use them sparingly.”

“Prince Samuel is going to Farmin with us?” frowned Prince Harold. “Is that wise?”

“Truthfully,” Garth sighed heavily, “I do not know if it is wise. I am afraid to split my forces until I know that you will be safe in Farmin. Once you are safe, we will get Prince Samuel safely to Valdo.”

“There is something you are not saying,” retorted Prince Harold.

Garth Shado nodded. “I thought it would be wise for Prince Samuel to see Farmin before returning to Valdo. The rumors are that it was an Ertakan who assassinated Queen Samir, and I would not doubt that the Spinoans might seek revenge. I do not want your two countries to start off their new relationships with distrust at the helm. I want each of you to understand that you will be replacing rulers who honored no limits to their actions. You and Samuel must start out as friendly neighbors. You both must push past grievances aside and forge a strong peaceful alliance.”

Prince Harold nodded. “You have given this great thought, Garth,” he said softly. “Your actions are noble, and I will accept them as such. As for starting out fresh, both Samuel and I have already agreed to do so, but I also understand what you are saying about the elite of both countries. They can cause great pressures to be placed on the policies of a new king. I would like to think that Alcea would present an ambassador to Ertak that I might call upon in times when I need honest and objective counsel.”

“I am sure that King Arik would be willing to do so,” Garth smiled. “If the nations of Zara learn to live in peace, then Alcea will also live in peace. That is our goal.”

Garth suddenly stopped talking and drew his sword, motioning to the prince to remain quiet. The Knight of Alcea stealthily moved towards the cover of a tree between the prince and the noise he had heard. He waited silently.

“Hello the clearing,” a female voice called from the forest. “May we enter?”

Prince Harold’s eyes grew wide, but Garth smiled and sheathed his sword.

“Welcome travelers,” Garth called to the unseen group in the forest. “Our camp is your camp.”

Natia, Tedi, and Prince Samuel rode into the clearing, leading two spare horses behind them. All five of the mounts were unicorns, but the princes did not know that. Harold and Samuel greeted one another and then Garth introduced Tedi and Natia to Prince Harold.

“You two were among those who rescued me from my prison,” Prince Harold said to Tedi and Natia. “I thank you for that. Will any of you be known in Farmin?”

“We are merchants,” smiled Garth. “I travel as a special agent, and Tedi and Natia travel as my assistants. The city guard should not harass us. Let’s get on our way while the sun still shines.”

* * * *

Above the mouth of the Black Citadel, twelve Alcean Rangers looked up and saw four unicorns flying in circles above them. A fairy soared down and landed on the shoulder of one of the Rangers.

“The mages need a diversion to get into position,” chirped the fairy. “Can you do that?”

“I can do that,” offered one of the Rangers. “It will take me a bit of time to provide the diversion, and I do not know how long it will distract them. Tell the mages to be ready for it.”

The fairy saluted and leaped into the air. The volunteer Ranger discarded his bow and called for others to help him fashion a long rope out of several lengths. When the long rope was completed, the volunteer wrapped one end around his chest and tightened it while another Ranger secured the other end around a rock. With several Rangers taking up the slack of the rope, the volunteer started climbing down the sheer vertical face of the mountain towards the mouth of the cave below. There were precious few handholds for the descent, and the Ranger had to depend upon his team to gently lower him. He was afraid that his feet would become visible to the black-cloaks within the cave, and that would make him a target for their magical spells, but he need not have worried. When the rope went taut, and those above him offered no further length, he was still a few paces above the opening of the cave. The volunteer was both relieved and concerned. While the black-cloaks had no target to cast their spells at, his task had suddenly become a little trickier.

Hanging on the end of the rope, the Ranger reached into his pack and extracted a jar of fire glue. With the jar in one hand and the rope in the other, the Ranger kicked out at the vertical face of the mountain. As his body arced away from the mountain, he raised his legs higher and kicked out again as the rope brought him back into the sheer face. Constantly raising his legs higher to propel him farther away from the face of the mountain, the Ranger peered downward for a view of the mouth of the cave. Pushing aside any thoughts of the rope snapping from the strain, the Ranger timed his view of the mouth of the cave. When he felt confident of success, the Ranger hurled the jar into the mouth of the cave.

Streaming magical projectiles immediately soared out of the cave, but they were hastily cast without a target in sight. Shouts of alarm rang out from within the Black Citadel, and tongues of flame leapt upward to where the Ranger hung at the end of his rope. Feeling the searing heat of the flames, the Ranger grabbed the rope and began hauling himself upward as best he could, but soon the loop of rope below him started burning. As the Rangers above began to understand what was happening, they all started hauling the rope upward. The volunteer grabbed the rope with both hands and held on as his comrades hauled him up the side of the mountain.

The mages on the unicorns moved swiftly as the fire in the mouth of the cave distracted the black-cloaks. All four of them swept downward towards the canyon path leading to the Black Citadel. They jumped off their unicorns and immediately sprang into action.

“Balamor,” instructed Queen Tanya, “I want a vertical physical shield across the face of the cave, but not right up against it. I want them to try to flee as birds and discover their error too late. Jenneva, give me a horizontal physical shield above the cave so they cannot escape that way. Theos, give me the same below the cave. I want them boxed in. I will hold the magical shields for now.”

“Put wings on the physical shields,” added Balamor. “We don’t want them turning sharply out of the cave and escaping our trap.”

Jenneva and Theos nodded and altered their physical shields to extend inward at the ends towards the face of the mountain. Within seconds, the shields were in place, and the four Alcean mages were sighted. A slew of magical projectiles spewed forth from the cave, but Tanya’s shield held firm.

“The fire glue didn’t last long,” frowned Theos.

“It had nothing to burn but itself,” commented Jenneva. “It gave us time to get set up. That was all it was intended to do.”

“True,” frowned the Tyronian mage, “but what do we do now? Just holding shields will not alleviate the threat of the black-cloaks. Sooner or later they will attack in strength, and we will get worn out.”

“I can handle two of the physicals shields at the same time,” offered Balamor. “That will free up someone else to attack.”

“That is the plan,” smiled Queen Tanya. “I am also expecting Theos to hold his physical shield and a magical one at the same time, but not just yet. Right now we must merely hold these shields to allow the Rangers time to get down to the canyon floor. If any birds strike our shields and fall without being killed, I want those Rangers down there to finish them off. No black-cloak will be allowed to survive this battle.”

For a long time, nothing happened. The black-cloaks within the Black Citadel peered out at the four mages on the path to the canyon floor, but neither side attacked. Inside the Black Citadel, the black-cloaks huddled around Targo.

“What do you make of it, Targo?” asked one of the black-cloaks. “Why would anyone be foolish enough to send only four mages to stand against us?”

“And why aren’t they attacking?” asked another. “They are well within range.”

“It is not just the four mages,” retorted another black-cloak. “Did you forget about the archers above us?”

“The archers were only meant to hold us until these four showed up,” answered Targo as he pointed out of the mouth of the cave. “You can see them fleeing now on their flying horses.”

The other black-cloaks peered out of the cave and saw twelve black-clad men on winged horses descending into the canyon.

“Unicorns!” gasped one of the black-cloaks. “I thought they were extinct.”

“Evidently not,” frowned Targo. “The enemies of the Federation appear to be more formidable than anyone gave them credit for. Those men dress the same as the Rangers I saw in Alcea.” The current leader of the Black Citadel turned his gaze to the four mages on the path. “And unless my eyes deceive me, one of those mages is the Queen of Alcea. I had not heard that she had the gift. She is known as the Warrior Queen.”

“She is the one holding the shield around her and the others,” offered one of the black-cloaks. “I am sure of it.”

“Interesting,” mused Targo. “The fact that they are not attacking us leads me to believe that they are weak. They are trying to hold us inside until others join their cause.”

“Then we must strike quickly,” urged one of the black-cloaks.

“And we will,” Targo replied with a thin smile. “I want fifty of you to transform into your bird form. The rest of us will all concentrate on the woman in white and gold. We will bombard her with everything we have while our fifty brethren fly out of here and setup positions all around them. Those of you taking flight, be wary of flying directly between us and them. You will not survive otherwise.”

Targo selected fifty of his men at random and waited for their transformations to complete.

On the path across from the mouth of the cave, Queen Tanya sensed the coming assault.

“Jenneva,” the queen said softly, “they are going to test our mettle. I may need you to reinforce my magical shields without dropping your physical shield.”

“I will be ready,” Jenneva simply replied.

Moments later, the assault began. Hundreds of magical projectiles streamed out of the mouth of the cave as fifty birds took to the air. The birds scattered in every direction, but they quickly flew headfirst into the invisible physical shields of the Alceans. As the bodies of the birds tumbled from the sky, Tanya’s shield lit up brightly as magical projectiles slammed into it. When Jenneva’s mage sight showed Tanya’s shield weakening appreciatively, she reinforced it with one of her own.

Across the battlefield in the mouth of the Black Citadel, Targo stared in disbelief. “No one’s shield can withstand such a barrage,” he scowled.

“Someone else is reinforcing it,” stated another black-cloak.

“I saw that,” snapped Targo, “but not until we blasted the queen with hundreds of projectiles. No mage can cast shields that strong.”

“Perhaps the shield was already held by three of them,” suggested one of the black-cloaks. “Maybe the reinforcing was merely the fourth one joining in.”

“Then who is holding the physical shields that killed our brethren?” Targo retorted angrily. “A physical shield takes a lot of strength, and I counted at least three of them out there.”

“Someone else must be helping them,” one of the black-cloaks concluded. “That is the only explanation.”

“Or they are extremely powerful,” frowned another. “What do we know about Alcean mages?”

There were numerous mumbles of agreement, and Targo felt his command slipping away from him.

“We will not be scared by four Alcean mages,” scoffed Targo. “There are hundreds of us in here, and they do not seem capable of harming us from out there. Sooner or later they will have to enter the Black Citadel, and when they do, they will learn a lesson about black-cloak magic. I want a watch set up here day and night and a constant bombardment on their shields. As soon as they make their move, or their shields wear down, we will all gather to destroy them.”

Targo’s words were barely out of his mouth when the Black Citadel began trembling. Targo looked out of the cave in alarm and saw the arms of the two female mages pointing towards him. He could not comprehend what they were trying to do, but he immediately tied the trembling to the two women. The rest of the black-cloaks began to fidget and move away from the mouth of the cave.

“Get back here!” Targo shouted as the trembling began to increase dramatically. “Whatever they are doing, they can’t do it and maintain their shields. Now is the time for a counterattack.”

Several cowed black-cloaks stepped forward and cast magical projectiles at the queen, but they merely illuminated the shield surrounding the four Alcean mages. Others joined in and soon scores of projectiles were streaming across the sky.

“One of the men is holding the shield now,” declared one of the black-cloaks as large chunks of rock began falling from the ceiling of the Black Citadel.

“Then they have no physical shields,” stated Targo. “Some of you test the physical shields.”

Three black-cloaks dutifully complied, but many of the others furtively faded farther into the cave, not wanting to die as a bird. The three volunteers leapt off the floor of the cave and flew in different directions. All three of them slammed headfirst into the waiting physical shields.

“This is not possible!” shouted Targo as loud cracks split the air.

“The Black Citadel is splitting apart,” one of the black-cloaks shouted in alarm. “They mean to collapse the mountain on top of us.”

Targo watched in horror as he lost control over his men. Some of his men hurled magical projectiles at the enemy, while others tried to fly to freedom, but most of them ran deeper into the cave, hoping to avoid the devastation that they thought was coming. None of them survived. Within mere minutes of the first trembling, the Black Citadel shook itself apart, allowing the mountain above it to collapse and fill the void. The mountain shook with explosive force and a great cloud of rock dust rose angrily over the peaks of the Barrier. The Black Citadel and the black-cloaks within it ceased to exist.