Dragons' Onyx (34 page)

“Essential,” nodded Boris. “We will be attempting to do something that has never been done before. Enormous power and control will be needed.”

“There are six of us already,” frowned Niki. “How many more can you possibly need?”

“There are four of us,” retorted Master Khatama. “The time for you and Fredrik to leave is fast approaching. Learn what you can from these masters while they are able to teach you. You will probably never again get the chance to learn from them.”

Niki turned and ran into the woods. Fredrik looked at the others and saw the cold determination on their faces. He ran after Niki and found her crying away from the clearing.

“What is the matter?” he asked.

“Can’t you hear?” sobbed Niki. “Whatever they are planning to do, it is going to be fatal. That is why Uncle Boris doesn’t want us around any more. He is kicking us out just to save us.”

Fredrik was going to try to convince Niki that she was interpreting things wrongly, but the cold stares he remembered seeing on the faces of the others made him realize that Niki was correct.

Master Khatama’s merchant wagon rumbled along the road that paralleled the Great Sordoan Desert. Fredrik sat on the seat with the reins in his hands, urging the most out of the team of four horses without overtiring them. Niki slept, stretched out on the seat with her head on Fredrik’s lap. Under the cover of the wagon, Podil sat, seemingly lost in prayer over a large sealed casket. Balamor slept, curled into a ball amongst the piles of merchandise, while Mustar snored loudly, his body in a seated position against the side of the wagon with his head back against the canvas.

Podil’s ageless face lost its serene composure as the distant sounds of thunder filtered through her meditation. Without interrupting her spell, the elf magician turned and gazed out the back of the covered wagon. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw a large cloud of dust on the horizon.

“Mustar,” Podil called softly. “Get up.”

The desert mage’s head snapped forward and his eyes scanned the wagon, giving the impression of someone waking in an unexpected place.

“Is it my turn already?” he asked as his eyes settled on Podil and the casket. “It feels like I just got to sleep.”

“No,” Podil replied calmly. “There is something that requires your attention. I dare not get distracted from my duty.”

“Hmmph,” frowned Mustar. “What is it that you need?”

“Look out the back of the wagon,” stated the elf.

Mustar grunted as he pushed himself towards the center of the wagon and turned to look out the back. His eyebrows rose as he saw the dust cloud. He quickly crawled to the back of the wagon and peered out.

“Riders in the distance,” Mustar shouted. “Lots of riders.”

Balamor abruptly sat up and moved next to Mustar. He frowned as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Lanoirians,” he said impassively. “From the dust they are raising, I would say it is a great number of them.”

“Maybe we should have Fredrik get this wagon off the road until they pass by,” suggested Mustar.

“No,” interjected Podil. “We dare not waste the time. I do not have good feelings about the way we are protecting the Mage. We cannot afford to stop while other travelers use the road.”

“These are not just other travelers,” scowled Mustar as he watched the approaching cavalry. “This is a Lanoirian army. They will sweep us off the road if we get in their way.”

“Are you and Balamor so helpless that you will let some soldiers endanger the Mage?” asked Podil. “Whatever Master Khatama is planning to do, I am sure that it involves the fate of the world. I am not willing to let some power-hungry soldiers get in the way of that. If you are squeamish, Mustar, take over the shields and I will deal with the Lanoirians.”

“Squeamish?” echoed Mustar. “This is not a matter of being squeamish. You are asking me to obliterate thousands of men merely because they travel the same road as we do?”

“You are suddenly concerned about the fate of Lanoirians?” pushed Podil. “I didn’t think you cared about anyone.”

“I am not concerned with Lanoirians or anyone else,” countered Mustar. “I do not get involved in man’s political follies. In the end, all of their squabbling means nothing. That does not mean the wholesale slaughter would not weigh heavily on my mind.”

“Nobody is talking about killing the Lanoirians,” interrupted Balamor. “Use your imagination, Mustar. All we need to do is create an illusion to make them avoid trampling us.”

“That works for me,” Mustar nodded thoughtfully, “but we better be quick about it. They are close enough to see us already. What shall the wagon become?”

“A large boulder?” suggested Podil. “At the speed that they are traveling, we could look like we are standing still if Fredrik slows down just a bit.”

“I can handle that,” nodded Mustar. “Fredrik will not even have to slow down. The vision will be elongated much larger than we are. The Lanoirians will just be riding around a long boulder in the middle of the road. Balamor, make sure that Fredrik understands what we are doing. Tell him to keep a steady pace and remain in the center of the road at all times.”

* * *

The unicorns swept over the desert, their wings leaving small dust devils in the dunes just below them. Alex frowned as he saw the Darkness just ahead of them. He shook his head in dismay as he thought about going under it once again. Living under the Darkness for close to twenty years had been bad enough, but once Arik had begun to banish it, being under it again was hard for Alex to handle. He grumbled under his breath.

A short time later, Alex frowned again. This time it was not the Darkness overhead that bothered him. It was a large dust cloud on the road that paralleled the Great Sordoan Desert.

“Potential trouble to our east,” Alex shouted to Jenneva.

Jenneva looked eastward and nodded. “Let’s go a bit higher to see what it is,” she suggested.

Alex nodded, and the two unicorns shot upwards. Kaz and Yorra rose high enough in the sky to let everyone see the Lanoirian cavalry.

“What are they doing out here?” Alex wondered out loud. “I thought Emperor Hanchi was moving along the coast.”

“Look at the vanguard,” pointed Jenneva. “They have a wagon. Do you think they would use so many men to safeguard one wagon?”

“No,” Alex shook his head. “There must be close to twenty thousand men in that column. One wagon would not carry enough to feed them. “

As Alex and Jenneva watched, the wagon turned into a large boulder. Alex shook his head in disbelief.

“Higher,” shouted Jenneva. “They must have seen us. That boulder is an illusion meant to hide the wagon from our prying eyes.”

Kaz and Yorra shot skyward, and the Lanoirian column became a tiny black trail winding along the edge of the desert.

“Lanoirian cavalry and magicians,” Jenneva wondered out loud. “What does this mean?”

“I am not sure about the magicians,” answered Alex, “but the cavalry is meant to entrap the Sordoans. They are running along the desert to get around General Mobami’s men and come at them from behind. The Sordoans are going to be in for a rough time.”

“I wonder about that wagon,” Jenneva mused a few moments later. “See how it is dropping back through the column of riders. Maybe the illusion was meant for the Lanoirians and not for us.”

“You might be right,” nodded Alex, “but we don’t have time to stay here and find out. We must get to General Mobami immediately. Let’s head towards the coast. Stay high until we are over the sea, then we can come in low over the water.”

Kaz and Yorra flew high over Sordoa until they reached the sea. Pillars of smoke indicated where the burning fields were and the unicorns headed in that direction. They finally located the Sordoans between Caldar and Forgum, and they glided to a beach not far away.

“Be wary,” suggested Alex as he pulled on his Knight of Alcea tunic. “Put your tunic on. I want the Sordoans to know who we are.”

Jenneva nodded as she pulled her tunic on. “Do you think they will attack us?” she asked.

“Oscar said that Arik had made quite an impression with the Sordoans,” shrugged Alex. “I am hopeful that they will not attack us, but we must be prepared for anything.”

Alex led the way off the beach to the road that ran along the coast. They turned towards the Sordoan encampment. Fifteen minutes later, they came to the guards at the edge of the encampment. The guards stared at the tunics of the Knights of Alcea and whispered among themselves. One man turned and ran into the camp.

“Greetings,” called Alex as they approached the guards. “We have come to speak with General Mobami. Can you direct us?”

“Who are you?” questioned the guard.

Alex hesitated only slightly before answering, “Alexander and Jenneva Tork. We come by request of King Arik.”

Excited whispers ran through the Sordoans and men at the closest campfires stood and stared at the two Alceans. Alex was not entirely sure how the reception would turn out. At one time in his life, he was probably the most hated man in Sordoa. He hoped those days were forgotten. It was his reputation that had caused him to adopt a number of false names over the years, otherwise his comings and goings would have been the talk of every tavern in Sordoa.

“Dismount,” ordered one of the guards.

Alex looked at Jenneva and nodded. They both dismounted and stood together. After a few tense moments of silence, a soldier ran past the guards and stopped in front of Alex.

“General Mobami would be pleased to meet with you,” he said. “If you will follow me, someone will care for your mounts.”

The guard turned and headed into the camp. Alex and Jenneva followed as two men ran out to take the reins of Kaz and Yorra. The path to General Mobami’s tent was lined with men, all waiting to see who was coming. Word of Alex’s identity ran along the line of men faster than Alex did, so most of the men knew who he was by the time he passed them. After a few moments of walking, the soldier stopped in front of a large tent and held the door flap. Alex and Jenneva stepped inside.

Alex’s eyes immediately swept over the entire inside of the tent. The furnishings were sparse. There was a wooden door set up as a table with two barrels supporting it. Around the table were half a dozen chests that were being used as chairs. Off in a corner was a simple cot, only big enough for one person. There were four men in the room and no guards. Alex began to relax a bit. He recognized Eddie from Continental Shipping in Trekum, and Captain Azule that he had met in Forgum while searching for the Book of Things. One of the other men had two thin scars, one on each cheek. They appeared fairly recent. The last man was an imposing figure. The baldhead and large mustache fit the description of General Mobami.

“So you are Alexander Tork,” greeted the general. “Welcome to Sordoa.”

“Thank you, General Mobami,” nodded Alex as he noticed Eddie averted his eyes to avoid looking at him. “This is my wife Jenneva. I recognize Captain Azule from our meeting in Forgum. Introduce me to the rest of your people.”

“Captain Orteka of the Kadin Claws,” pointed the general, “and Eddie of the Continental Shipping Company. It was his ships that took us out of Trekum.”

“Well,” Alex nodded to the two men without letting on that he knew Eddie, “We may need to use those ships again. You are about to be surrounded.”

“Surrounded?” echoed the general with alarm. “By whom?”

“Lanoirian cavalry are heading north alongside the desert,” answered Alex. “I estimate them to be about twenty thousand strong. I suspect that their intention is to get north of you and squeeze you into Emperor Hanchi’s army which is advancing from the south.”

The general gazed down at the map on the makeshift table. “They can take the road to Forgum,” nodded General Mobami. “That would put us in a squeeze. About how long do you estimate it will take them to get to Forgum?”

“You can beat them to Forgum,” advised Alex, “but it will be close. Your men and horses would be tired even if you did beat them.”

“You sound like that is not a good option,” interjected Captain Azule. “Surely you are not suggesting that we head back to Caldor?”

“No,” Alex shook his head. “You are traveling with your women and children. They are a liability to you now. I suggest that they be removed by ship immediately. Eddie can take them to Melbin. That would allow your army to move much quicker. If the ships leave tonight, they can turn around and start ferrying your men to Melbin as well.”

“We cannot retreat to Melbin because we are threatened,” the general shook his head. “There are still many fields to be burned. I made a deal with King Arik.”

“There is more than one way to accomplish that goal,” replied Alex. “Right now, you are slowly going up the coast and burning everything. You did not have to travel fast because the emperor’s army is very slow. That has changed, but that only means that your tactics must change. As long as we can keep an eye on the Lanoirian cavalry, we can outsmart them.”

“How?” asked Captain Orteka.

“Eddie’s ships,” grinned Alex. “If we know where the Lanoirians are, Eddie can deliver men to where they are not. They can burn the fields and then retreat to the ships. When the cavalry reacts to the smoke from the burning fields, we strike somewhere else.”

“That sounds like a brilliant plan,” frowned the general as he fiddled with his mustache, “but there is one major problem with it. We have no means of spying on the Lanoirians. There is no way that we will be able to tell what they are up to.”

Alex smiled as he opened his breast pocket. The general gasped as Bantam stuck her head out and looked around.

“What is that?” asked the general.

Alex scooped Bantam out of his pocket and placed her on his shoulder. “Her name is Bantam,” explained Alex. “She is a fairy. I will send her to Tagaret and she will return with some more fairies to keep you updated on the Lanoirian troop movements.”

“Shall I go now?” chirped Bantam.

Alex nodded and the blue fairy darted for the door of the tent. The flap was closed, but it presented no obstacle to the tiny fairy. She slipped through a tiny crack and disappeared.