Authors: Richard S. Tuttle
Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Young Adult
"Then we will time it accordingly," vowed Garth. "You do understand that the day of your freedom will not be soon?"
"Prince Rigal has told me," nodded Prince Saratoma. "Many pieces of the puzzle must come together before we strike. No matter how many months away that grand day is, the time will go quickly for the Dielderal. We have much to do. While we are all skilled with the bow and arrow, King Elengal has mandated practice for everyone. We are also preparing food stocks for the children and our warriors for when they must remain hidden. We have much to do before we are ready."
"Good," smiled Garth. "I didn't want to raise your expectations to unreasonable levels."
"You and your people have brought hope to the Dielderal," smiled Prince Saratoma. "That is something we have not had for many generations. No matter how long we must wait now, we know that one day we will be free once again."
"Have you come to help us look?" asked Morro.
"No." Garth shook his head. "We are trying to get all the enemies of the Federation to join together. To do so, we must gather twenty thousands warriors, otherwise the horse countries will not be persuaded to help. My main purpose for stopping here was to determine how many elves we could count on. We are not staying the night. We are off to find the dwarves if they still exist."
"The dwarves?" frowned Prince Saratoma. "Even if they still live, why would they help the Dielderal?"
"I don't know that they will," conceded Garth, "but I must pursue the matter. There are few enough places to find fighters. Dwarves have fairly long memories, and the Empire did enslave them. If we do find them, I will try to get them to commit to helping the elves. I think it would be wise of King Elengal to prepare the Dielderal by dispelling the old tales of hatred towards the dwarves."
"We now know that our histories were wrong," nodded Prince Saratoma, "but it is hard to throw away feelings that were ingrained in you from birth."
"It must be done," declared Kalina. "The future of the Dielderal may depend upon it."
* * *
In the library of the Royal Palace in Tagaret, Zack Nolan placed a large map of Alcea on the table and unrolled it. He took nine small pieces of wood with red numbers on them and began placing them on the map. The others crowded around to see what he was doing.
"These are the approximate locations of the nine Doors we have tracked so far," declared the Alcean spymaster. "Four of them have been placed in barns, two in temples, two in inns, and one in a private home. Of the nine Doors, two are in Cordonia, two in Lanoir, two in Sordoa, and three in Targa. The Doors are numbered from sixteen to twenty-four. What does all this tell us?"
"It tells me that we have missed the placement of fifteen Doors," frowned Prince Oscar. "We are playing a dangerous game here, King Arik. I think we should destroy the nine Doors that we know about."
"Not yet," disagreed the king. "If we start destroying Doors now, we will inform the Zarans that we know about the portals. I do not want them to know that we know."
"But we have already missed fifteen of them," countered Prince Oscar. "They can send an awful lot of men through that many Doors in a short period of time."
"We will have to find the Doors that were installed before Runt warned us about them," said Queen Tanya.
"By searching all of Alcea?" frowned Lord Clava. "You are asking the impossible. One of those Doors is in a private home. If we start paying a lot of attention to Doors all over Alcea, we will notify the Zarans that we know about the portals just as sure as if we destroyed the ones we know about."
"He is right," agreed General Gregor. "We would have to locate the Doors without appearing to be looking for them. It is an impossible task. If we could narrow it down in some way, we might be able to be covert about searching for them."
"I am curious," frowned Sheri. "How do you install a Door in an inn and not expect it to be used?"
"They were installed as doors connecting two rooms," answered Zack Nolan. "In each case, one of the rooms was rented for a year in advance."
"So they are going to bring thousands of men into a room at an inn?" questioned Wylan. "That hardly sounds practical."
"The two cities where they chose inns are both in Sordoa," replied Zack Nolan. "Much of Sordoa was destroyed during the war. The populations of Pontek and Caldar have never recovered from the devastation. It would not take many soldiers to secure those cities while the rest of the army filed through the inn."
"And there are not many farms for sale in Sordoa," added Lord Clava. "I suspect, based on the number we are seeing, that barns are their first choice. Am I to presume that the Doors in barns are on farms owned by Snakes?"
"We believe that to be the case," nodded Zack Nolan. "The farmers are in effect guarding the Doors. Each of the farms has changed hands within the last three years."
"Why are the Doors in such small cities?" asked Fredrik. "The Federation cannot hope to conquer Alcea by attacking the likes of Pontek. It might be weeks before anyone even noticed."
"That is what makes them such ideal locations," General Gregor pointed out. "It takes time to get a large army through a single Door."
"But the Doors are so spread out," interjected Niki. "They can't possibly be planning on attacking everywhere at once."
Rut-ki leaned over the map and tapped her fingers on the three pieces of wood in Targa.
"What are you thinking?" asked Bin-lu.
"Triangulation," answered Rut-ki. "It reminds me of the classic stance in martial arts. There are Doors in Danver Shores, Mya, and Miriam, but none in Tagaret. What if you wanted to assemble a large army to attack a major city? Would you not bring them in from various angles for a simultaneous attack?"
"Of course!" General Gregor replied enthusiastically. "One would want to attack from four sides, but each of our capital cities are seaports. The positioning of the blocks is beginning to make sense from a military viewpoint. Take Kantor for example. There are Doors in Carid and Paso. I would almost bet that there is also a Door in Darcia. That would triangulate Kantor."
"Then we should also find one in Gortha in Sordoa," remarked Fredrik. "That would take care of Trekum."
"And one in Chi for attacking Ongchi," nodded Bin-lu. "That would complete the triangle started by Barouk and Elmor. If the theory is valid, we have just narrowed down the areas we need to search."
"And we have a decent idea of the type of structures the Zarans prefer to use," stated Zack Nolan. "We could start our search in each of those cities by finding out if any farms have changed hands in the last three years."
"Followed up by anyone renting rooms for a year in advance," added Rut-ki. "This might work."
"If we are successful in locating Doors in all three of those cities," frowned Prince Oscar, "that will still only account for half the Doors shipped to Alcea so far. Where are the other twelve?"
"One step at a time," replied King Arik. "Bin-lu, you and Rut-ki will go to Chi. Wylan and Sheri will handle Gortha, and Tanya and I will go to Darcia. Fredrik and Niki will handle the fairies and any further Doors that are shipped to Alcea."
* * *
Fakir Aziz led the two mages and the riderless unicorn through the woods of Tyronia where the Yio River joined with the Kanton River. Not far downstream from the junction, the historian turned off the road on a seldom used trail. Less than half a league later he stopped outside a small cabin and dismounted. Zynor and Kalmar also dismounted and stretched.
"What are we doing here?" asked Kalmar.
Fakir Aziz did not answer the question. He walked up to the door of the cabin and entered it.
"You should learn not to ask him questions," Zynor said to Kalmar. "He shares only what he wants to."
"Why is he so secretive?" frowned the Koroccan mage.
"I do not know that he is secretive," shrugged the Zaroccan mage. "Sometimes I think his mind is elsewhere, but then who am I to talk. I have forgotten half of what I know."
"It comes back to you quick enough," smiled Kalmar. "I have to admit that when we started this journey together, I thought you had little talent. I certainly did not expect to be learning from you."
"Fakir has some kind of effect on me," commented Zynor. "He causes me to remember things that are only distant memories."
"And he makes me look at life through the eyes of others," nodded Kalmar. "He is someone special, isn't he?"
"He is," Zynor nodded thoughtfully. "I feel as if I have always known him, yet he is a mystery to me even now. It is as if I should remember him, but I doubt that we have ever met before."
"I feel as if he can look right into my soul," Kalmar said softly. "It scares me, yet it also comforts me. Does that make any sense?"
Zynor looked at Kalmar for a moment and then nodded slowly.
"There is no one home," Fakir declared as he returned to the two men. "We will have to look for him in Ur."
"Who are we looking for?" asked Kalmar.
"Theos," Fakir said as he mounted his gray unicorn. "Let's ride."
The three men retraced their path to the Kanton Road and turned towards Ur. Within an hour they were entering the city.
"Those are Federation uniforms," Kalmar said softly. "Tyronia must have fallen to the Federation."
"So it would seem," replied Fakir Aziz. "You would be wise to keep your feelings about them to yourself. Nothing can be gained by antagonizing them."
"But there are thousands of them," Kalmar said anxiously. "Perhaps it would be wiser not to enter the city."
"I must find Theos," declared Fakir. "You and Zynor are free to wait out here for me if you wish."
"I don't care much for cities," stated Zynor. "Perhaps we will wait for you back up the road a bit."
Fakir merely nodded and continued onward. He entered the city alone, still leading the riderless unicorn. Inside the city, the soldiers were numerous. They lounged at every corner, and patrols marched the city streets. For two hours he rode up and down every major street in the city with no success. Finally, he halted and dismounted. Closing his eyes, Fakir concentrated on Theos. It took only a moment to sense the Tyronian mage, but when Fakir opened his eyes, his brow furrowed with concern.
Leading the two unicorns, Fakir Aziz turned and headed towards the Old Keep. There were hundreds of Federation soldiers surrounding the old fortress, but it was the eight black-cloaks that Fakir focused on. He stared at them for several moments and then turned to gaze at Theos, who was hiding in an alcove across the street from the Old Keep. Fakir crossed the street and halted the unicorns so they blocked the middle-aged mage from leaving the alcove.
"Move along, old man," Theos said softly.
"Do you see the tall black priest standing near the gates to the Old Keep?" asked Fakir.
"What?" Theos asked with annoyance.
"That priest is more than just a mage," declared the historian. "He is demonkin. Should he focus his attention upon you, your intent will be all too clear to him."
"And what would you know about my intent?" scowled the Tyronian mage.
"You are a Tyronian patriot," stated Fakir, "but your method of stating your grievance will get you killed. Despite your considerable talents, there are six Federation mages and hundreds of Federation soldiers out there. While your attack might kill many of them, you will surely die."
"What is it to you if I die?" scowled the mage. "It is my life."
"Is it?" retorted Fakir. "Life is a gift from God. Those who seek to take their own life, for whatever reason, are throwing that gift back into the face of God. He would not be pleased."
Theos stared at the old man in wonder. "Just who are you?" he demanded.
"You may call me Fakir Aziz," smiled the tutor. "I have come to take you away from this city."
"Why should I go with you?" asked Theos.
"Why should you stay in a city where your worthless body would be destined to litter the street? Your talent is important to the world. Do not let your unbridled rage make you blind to the truth."
Theos frowned. He glanced at the mages in the street and then at K'san. His eyes eventually landed on Fakir Aziz. The tension that had wracked his body was gone, and he felt serenely calm.
"You didn't answer my question. Why should I go with you?"
"Your destiny is not in Ur," declared Fakir. "Follow me, and I will guide you to it."
* * *
The Federation soldiers escorting General Forshire were young and inexperienced. At night when two of them were supposed to be on sentry duty, they often sat together talking softly instead of maintaining a vigil over the campsite. On the trail they talked casually as if no one would dare to attack a squad of Federation soldiers. General Forshire did not reprimand the men, nor did he teach them the errors of their ways. He let them babble incessantly so that he might learn more about them. In fact, after everyone but the sentries had fallen asleep, Clint often released Peanut to spy on the sentries. The fairy delighted in his spy missions and reported even the most mundane topics of conversation. By the time the small column had made its way through Ramaldi Pass, Clint had a pretty fair idea of who each of the twenty men were and what they believed in.
Upon exiting the pass, the column had turned south on Blood Highway to shorten the journey to Despair. Blood Highway was a new road that led directly from Ramaldi Pass to Valdo, the capital of Spino. The first part of the journey hugged the base of the Barrier, and the latter part paralleled the Blood River. The new road cut in half the distance from the pass to Spino and the Empire of Barouk, yet it was not heavily traveled.
Clint marveled at the condition of the broad, hard-packed road, and wondered why such a construction project would be undertaken for so little traffic. They had already ridden along Blood Highway for three days, and they had not passed a single village. What little population did exist consisted of hunters and trappers, and they avoided the soldiers whenever they appeared. It was near the end of the third day when Clint spied another wide avenue branching off to the west. That new road showed signs of heavy traffic as did the portion of Blood Highway stretched out before the column. Rut marks in the hard-packed dirt showed that heavy wagons had passed over the side road in large numbers, and Clint grew curious.