Dragons' Onyx (42 page)

“Then they will die crossing the Southern Mountains,” explained Alex. “The fairies will keep an eye on them to see what they do. Besides, it was necessary, considering their culture, for them to know that Lanoir has fallen to King Arik. That is what will make it acceptable for them to truly change sides. Without that knowledge in their minds, I would not trust them to fight alongside us.”

“I learn more from you each day,” chuckled Captain Azule. “No wonder we Sordoans were never able to defeat you.”

“Not Sordoans,” smiled Alex. “You are Alceans now. Round up the men. We have ships to catch before the Lanoirians decide to come down here and see how the ghosts disappear.”

Alexander Tork stood at the southern entrance to Toresh. Alongside him stood Captain Azule of the Sarga mercenary Company, and Captain Orteka of the Kadin Claws. They watched the long line of riders approaching from the south. The Lanoirian cavalry stirred up the charred fields as they approached, sending small plumes of charcoal smoke into the air. Alex turned and gazed anxiously at the one hundred Sordoans that waited with him.

“You seem nervous, Alex,” stated Captain Orteka. “Do you expect a battle?”

“It is always difficult to gauge a man’s reactions to starvation,” Alex replied softly. “I continue to hope for the best, but I intend to plan for the worst. How far away are the rest of your men?”

“Not more than five minutes,” answered Captain Orteka. “Do you want me to bring them in closer?”

“Not yet,” Alex shook his head. “Let’s wait to hear from Bantam before we make that decision.”

As if on cue, a small blue fairy descended out of the air and landed on Alex’s shoulder.

“I saw no sign of swords nor bows,” reported Bantam. “They appear to be unarmed.”

“Did you check the place that they were supposed to leave their weapons?” Captain Azule asked the fairy.

“Oh, yes,” Bantam nodded assuringly. “There are mounds of weapons of every type.”

“What of the Lanoirian that chose not to surrender?” asked Alex. “Which direction are they heading?”

“I could not find them,” frowned the fairy. “Shall I go look some more?”

“No,” stated Alex. “I have two other tasks for you that are more important. Proceed to the wagons north of the city. Tell them to move into the center of Toresh as we had discussed. Then contact our ships off the coast. I want those weapons collected immediately. They must not be left available in case the Lanoirians change their minds after they are fed. Warn them that we cannot account for all of the Lanoirians. They must use caution in collecting the weapons.”

“It shall be as the Knight of Alcea requests,” saluted Bantam.

“What an amazing alliance,” Captain Azule commented after the fairy had left. “The ability to send orders over great distances almost assures you of victory.”

“Nothing assures victory,” frowned Alex, “other than beating the other side into submission. War is not a noble endeavor. No matter which side wins, both sides get hurt.”

“A strange philosophy for a soldier,” commented Captain Orteka. “Everything I heard about Alexander Tork spoke of ruthlessness and cunning. That is not what you are about, as I have come to learn.”

“Enemies are always elevated in the minds of soldiers,” explained Alex. “Whatever I have done in my past was done for the good of my fellow man. It shall always be so.”

“They look tired and weak,” Captain Azule stated as the Lanoirian cavalry approached. “I do not think there is the will to fight left in them.”

“Probably not,” sighed Alex. “They will not be of much use in Melbin, but we are depriving Emperor Hanchi of their use.”

The lead rider of the Lanoirian cavalry halted in front of Alex and the two Sordoan captains.

“I am Za-hong,” the officer declared. “I have come to surrender. I beg food for my men.”

“Welcome to Alcea, Za-hong,” greeted Alex. “Have your men carried weapons with them?”

“We left our weapons in the burned fields as requested,” replied Za-hong. “We carry knives, but that is all.”

“If you will ensure that your men use their knives as tools and not weapons,” declared Alex, “they will be permitted to keep them. How many men have you brought? And how many were left behind?”

“We number over fifteen thousand,” the Lanoirian officer replied as he gazed at the hundred Sordoans. “We left only our dead behind. As for the knives, I assure that my men will behave respectfully. This is not an easy decision for us as a people,” he continued with a frown. “Lanoirians are a proud people. We surrender out of need for food, and because we believe what you have told one of my men. Is it true that Lanoir now belongs to King Arik?”

“It is the truth,” nodded Alex. “There are wagons of food entering Toresh as we speak. You will find rice and other staples that are generally not available north of the Southern Mountains. The food is from Lanoir.”

“The people there,” Za-hong asked hesitantly, “are they being brutalized?”

“Of course not,” smiled Alex. “King Arik would not allow such a thing. The Lanoirians have been welcomed into Alcea as equals with the other peoples who have raised the banner of Alcea. I suspect that they are better off under King Arik than they were under Emperor Hanchi.”

“That pleases me,” Za-hong smiled sadly. “Could you have my men escorted to the food please? Many are on the verge of sickness for the lack of it.”

“Certainly,” nodded Alex as Kaz approached. “I will personally ride with you to lead them.”

“That will not be necessary,” Za-hong shook his head as Alex was mounting Kaz. “I will not be going with them. Just have my men escorted.”

Alex frowned and stared at the Lanoirian officer for a while before nodding to Captain Azule. The two Sordoan captains shouted orders to their men. The one hundred Sordoan soldiers mounted and began escorting groups of Lanoirians towards the center of the city.

“Why are you not surrendering?” asked Alex.

“I have surrendered,” corrected Za-hong. “Even though it was the right thing to do, I have incurred shame for the act. I shall return to Emperor Hanchi and place myself at his mercy.”

“Why?” Alex questioned with concern on his face. “There is no shame in what you have done. Your men would die without food. They ceased to be an army days ago.”

“I have been entrusted with the command of these men,” explained Za-hong. “I have failed that command. If I take responsibility for the decision, no shame can be brought upon others for my actions. It is something that I must do.”

“Who are you trying to protect?” inquired Alex. “These men will never see Emperor Hanchi again. There is something that you are not telling me.”

“My brother is a noble in the court of Emperor Hanchi,” Za-hong answered. “That is why I was chosen to lead the cavalry. My failure will mean his life. That is not something that I can live with. While the soldiers can be excused, the emperor has the right to expect better from his officers.”

“Let me tell you something,” Alex smiled benevolently. “Emperor Hanchi is long dead. He never even led your people out of Lanoir.”

“What do you mean?” scowled the Lanoirian officer. “I have seen him myself.”

“What you have seen is a Black Devil,” explained Alex. “There is a spell that magicians use to steal another’s identity. Not only is Emperor Hanchi dead, but all of his bodyguards are as well. They have been replaced by nine Black Devils.”

Za-hong’s eyes opened wide in understanding as he stared at Alex. “There was a day that Za-chan said that the emperor no longer appeared to be himself,” he mused. “We both dismissed it as Za-chan losing favor with the emperor. If what you are saying is true, I must get word to him.”

“Think, Za-hong,” reasoned Alex. “If you try to get word to your brother, you risk having him killed. Right now, he is not aware that Lanoir has been betrayed, and he is not likely to find much acceptance for the truth among Emperor Hanchi’s hundred-thousand-man army. You only risk his life by bringing word of the truth to him.”

“I see the wisdom of your words,” Za-hong said softly after quite a long pause. “It does not please me to leave Za-chan in the dark, but it answers the question of my returning to the emperor’s camp. Please escort me to my men.”

“With pleasure,” smiled Alex as he started leading the Lanoirian officer to the center of the city.

“What will happen to my men?” asked Za-hong. “Will they be imprisoned?”

“No,” smiled Alex. “They will be fed and cared for in Melbin. Those that are fit for battle will be allowed to fight alongside the rest of the Alceans. None will be forced to fight against other Lanoirians. After the war they will be sent back to their families in Lanoir. King Arik wishes no strife with the Lanoirian people. We seek only to end the rule of Emperor Hanchi, as he is called today.”

“My men will fight,” Za-hong assured Alex. “While it may not be pleasant to fight against our brothers, it is worse to die at our brothers’ hands.”

* * *

Wyka glided over the treetops and dropped into the small clearing before Jorgel’s hut. The old man came running out of the building screaming.

“Do you have to raise the dust every time you move?” berated Jorgel as he waved away the dust in front of his face.

“If you had the proper pile of metal in front of your hut instead of bare dirt,” retorted the dragon, “there would be no dust at all. Why do humans always think they live better than others?”

“Welcome back, Wyka,” called King Arik as he stepped out of the hut and interrupted the conversation. “Did you find Gorga?”

“Of course I found him,” Wyka replied. “I know where he lives. It isn’t really that hard to find.”

“Then we shall go,” declared the king. “Let me get my weapons.”

“You need to rest,” the dragon stated. “You will need all of your strength to battle Gorga. Rest for a few days while you have the chance. Once you start to challenge him, there will be no rest until it is over. Tend to your bruises.”

“He’s right, lad,” nodded Jorgel. “If you plan to fight a dragon, you better be in excellent shape. A few days either way is not going to matter in the long run.”

“You didn’t tell me that you shot an arrow into Gorga’s eye,” remarked Wyka. “That takes great marksmanship.”

“I believe that was Tanya’s arrow,” responded King Arik. “She is a good shot with a bow. Does hitting his eye mean anything in particular?”

“His depth perception will be off,” replied Wyka. “That little bit of knowledge can mean a great deal in a fight. You will need every advantage that you can find.”

“Why don’t you kill the Ornery One?” asked Jorgel. “Why must this lad do everything?”

“He is called the Wrong One,” hissed Wyka. “The Ornery One reminds me of you. I am not a combatant in this battle. I may help King Arik in his quest, but it is his task to slay Gorga, not mine. You are also free to help, old man. Shall I deposit you in Gorga’s lair?”

“I think I forgot something inside the hut,” Jorgel replied nervously. “I better go and fetch it.”

Wyka chuckled with tiny wisps if smoke puffing out of her nostrils as Jorgel hurried into the hut.

“You enjoy torturing him, don’t you,” laughed King Arik after Jorgel had departed. “Why are you so mean to him?”

“Jorgel would make a fine dragon,” smiled Wyka. “He gives as good as he gets. You have no need to worry about him. I will not eat him. Can’t imagine there is much there worth eating anyway.”

“Alright,” King Arik conceded as he held the Sword of Heavens before him and rotated to find the direction of the Dragons’ Onyx, “I will rest a few days, but you must promise to let me know if Gorga moves. I do not want to lose him again.”

“He will not be going anywhere,” assured Wyka. “He is waiting for you to come to him.”

* * *

The wagon halted at the edge of the plain before the city of Southland. The occupants were nervous as they all crowded under the canvas roof and passed the large casket out the back. Fredrik and Mustar lowered it gently to the ground.

“You can drop the shield now, Podil,” declared Mustar. “Help me open this, Fredrik.”

The two men grunted as they broke the seal on the casket and slid the top to one side. Inside the casket was the body of Master Khatama. He appeared to be dead. Balamor jumped off the back of the wagon and bent down to inspect the Mage. He nodded with satisfaction.

“Give me the tea, Podil,” Balamor said. “Mustar, raise him up so I can get him to drink this concoction.”

Fredrik helped Mustar raise Master Khatama to a sitting position while Balamor opened his mouth and slowly poured the tea in. Master Khatama’s eyes popped opened as he sputtered a small amount of tea down the front of his tunic.

“Don’t waste it,” scowled Mustar. “We don’t have any to spare.”

“Greetings to you too,” Boris replied sarcastically. “Where are we?”

“Just outside Southland,” smiled Niki. “Did you have a nice nap?”

Boris turned and stared at Niki for a moment and then smiled broadly. “I did at that,” he answered. “Help me out of this casket.”

“Well that seemed to work fairly well,” remarked Podil as the men helped Boris out of the casket. “I must admit that I had my doubts.”

“Doubts are the bounty of a magical mind,” smiled Boris. “Never leave them behind you. Let’s get into the city. We need to sell this wagon and buy some horses.”

“You are going to sell your wagon?” frowned Niki. “Why? It just doesn’t seem right to be without it.”

Boris stopped and stared at Niki again. He looked over at Fredrik and smiled as he nodded his head in answer to some unspoken question.

“Perhaps I won’t sell it,” Boris grinned as he climbed up onto the seat of the wagon. “Nevertheless, we need to enter Southland right away.”

Fredrik and Niki untied their horses from the rear of the wagon and mounted them while the rest of the group took their place on the wagon. Boris urged the team forward and they soon entered the city.

Southland was filled with women and children. They moved through the streets in every direction. The men of the city mostly manned the walls. Boris guided the wagon through the streets and halted it behind an inn. He climbed down off the wagon and entered the rear door of the inn. The rest of his party looked at each other in confusion for a few moments before Mustar shook his head and entered the inn. The rest of the group followed him.