Alutar: The Great Demon (15 page)

* * * *

The Sea Turtle was a large Spinoan cargo ship that plied the waters of the Sea of Tears. It was two and a half days out of Giza on a run to Despair, and its holds were loaded with food. The captain and half the crew were below deck, asleep in their bunks. The mate and the other half of the crew were on deck. The night seas were calm, and the sailors sat around talking while the mate manned the helm. Coming from Giza, the Sea Turtle was far offshore, which accounted for the lack of other vessels in the vicinity. The only danger this far out was running into another ship in the darkness of night, so the mate called every once in a while for one of the sailors to search for lights on the horizon. What none of the sailors saw was a vessel approaching them from the rear. It carried no lantern to mark its position, and it had no sails. It had no freeboard whatsoever, but it moved smoothly and silently across the water.

Five Alcean sailors sat cross-legged on a woven mat, and a water witch stood proudly among them. Haditha guided the floating mat right up to the stern of the Sea Turtle as Captain Gomery released Squirt from his pocket. The fairy shot upward into the dark while Chanz removed a grappling hook and line from his pack. He recoiled the line and held it in his left hand while his right hand gripped the hook. He waited. The Sea Turtle suddenly floundered and the fairy shot downward.

“The deck crew is asleep now,” reported Squirt. “It is safe to come aboard. I will go below and see to the rest of the crew.”

The fairy shot upward again, and Chanz tossed the hook over the stern rail. Chanz and three sailors swiftly climbed the rope, but Captain Gomery stood by Haditha’s side.

“I will help you up,” offered Captain Gomery.

The water witch chuckled. “I think not, Gomery. I will wait for your fairy to return and levitate me. You go on up.”

The captain nodded and climbed the rope. When he reached the deck he was not surprised to see the crew already at work. Chanz was at the helm and bringing the Sea Turtle around to head for the Isle of Despair. Captain Gomery nodded with approval before relieving the mate at the helm.

“As soon as we are steady on course,” Captain Gomery instructed the mate, “take the rest of the crew and bind our captives. They are to be blindfolded as well. Tell the captives that no harm will come to them, but remind the crew not to speak of elves or the Isle of Despair in their presence.”

Chanz nodded and ran off to carry out the captain’s orders.

“There is no need to play with the sails,” offered Haditha as she walked up next to the captain. “I can get us there faster.”

“Rest,” Captain Gomery smiled broadly. “The sea tonight is almost as beautiful as you. We will be on schedule without taxing your powers. Besides, we have a long voyage scheduled as soon as we arrive at the island.”

“We will have time for a rest while they unload the food and load the elven warriors,” countered Haditha. “Are you enjoying yourself, Gomery?”

“Very much so,” grinned the captain. “I have both of my loves close at hand.”

“You are an old romantic fool, Gomery,” teased the water witch.

“I know,” the captain responded as he reached out and took Haditha’s hand.

* * * *

The sky was already beginning to lighten with the coming dawn when Colonel Donil reached the last hedge before the wide expanse of lawn surrounding the large tent. He crawled forward and gazed across the lawn of the Imperial Palace in Despair. The A Corps colonel gazed at Colonel Taerin’s window, but the Baroukan colonel was already gone. Colonel Donil waited. A few minutes later, he watched as Colonel Taerin stepped out of one of the rear doors of the palace and strode purposefully towards the large tent and the two sentries guarding it. Colonel Donil could only see one of the sentries from his concealed position behind the tent, but he saw the man stiffen as Colonel Taerin approached. Trusting that his Baroukan ally had captured the attention of both sentries, Colonel Donil rose and dashed across the lawn. When he reached the rear of the tent, he knelt and drew his knife from a sheath on his belt. He paused, his ears straining to hear the words being spoken near the flap at the front of the tent.

“I am assigned to palace security,” shouted Colonel Taerin. “How dare you refuse my entry into this tent!”

The sentries did not shout back, but Colonel Donil heard the sound of swords being drawn. It was now or never, he realized. He swiftly grabbed the tent material and sliced into the seam. He had hoped to make it look as if the seam had unraveled, but time prohibited that. He spread the material and crawled into the tent. The voices from the front flap immediately diminished, and the colonel sheathed his knife. The interior of the tent was as dark as night, and Donil rose to his feet, his hands stretched out before him. Mentally picturing where he would place a portal inside the tent, were the task given to him, the colonel moved silently forward. When his hands eventually touched wood, Donil sighed slightly and grasped the frame of the door. He moved around the door until he stood before it. Slowly and silently, Colonel Donil drew his sword. He slowly opened the door with his free hand, poised to defend himself in case there were guards on the other side. The door opened, and the colonel saw light through it. It was a weak light, but it was not artificial. He blinked and stepped through the doorway, closing the door behind him.

Colonel Donil looked around in confusion. He appeared to be in some kind of small hut, but the interior was demolished. A large thick curtain hung by one corner from the wall. It was tattered and torn. A smashed table and chair rested in the far corner, apparently shoved aside to make room for the army marching through the small building. The floor had once been wooden planks, but those planks were now splintered and smashed down into the dirt. The light that Donil had noticed when he opened the door was sunlight, and it was filtering in through a doorway that no longer held a door within its grasp. Outside the birds were chirping, and the colonel made his way across the small room and stepped out into the forest. There was no one in sight.

Colonel Donil sheathed his sword and gazed up through the forest canopy. The sun was already well into the sky. His first thought was of Alcea. He remembered the time shift that had occurred when he went through the door to Mya, but he had to be sure. It was just as possible that he was in some other strange land, and this was the only chance he would get of finding out and getting the word back to General Forshire. He stood for a moment trying to get his bearings. There was nothing special about the forest that he could see. The only aberration was the wide swath of destruction which marked the passage of the Federation army. Colonel Donil strode away from the cabin following the path of the army.

The trail led almost due south and became less destructive as he moved away from the cabin. It was easy to follow the footsteps of 20,000 men, so Colonel Donil turned his attention to listening for sounds before him. He did not want to stumble upon the Federation’s rear guard, but he needed to know where they were going, or at least where he was. He continued on at an unhurried pace, and an hour later he found himself standing on a well used road. The road ran roughly east to west, and the army had turned eastward. Donil’s thoughts immediately returned to Mya. When they had come through the portal near Mya, he remembered someone saying that they were just a short distance east of the city. The portal location had been chosen to avoid the city on the march to Tagaret. While the colonel was sure that he was not on the road from Mya to Tagaret, he assumed that whoever placed the portal he had just come through would be of a like mind. Instead of following the Federation army, the colonel turned westward to learn of his own location. No longer fearful of running into the army’s rear guard, Colonel Donil picked up his pace until he was jogging along the road. An hour later, his confidence was shattered. It was his feeling of relief from danger that had doomed him. Having no fear of running into native Alceans, he grew careless, mindless of the fact that he was wearing a Federation uniform.

“Halt!” came the shout from the edge of the forest.

Colonel Donil faltered as armed men emerged from the forest all around him. He halted abruptly and raised his hands so that they were away from his weapons.

“Well, look here!” called one of the ambushers. “We got us another runaway. An officer even.”

“No,” argued Colonel Donil. “It is not what you think.”

The last thing Colonel Donil heard was laughter as something hit the back of his head and darkness claimed his mind.

When the colonel awoke, he was disoriented. The ground was cold and the sky was dark. His head throbbed, and he suddenly remembered being captured. He rose to his hands and knees and felt about. The ground was smooth, and it suddenly dawned on him. He was imprisoned. He stood with his hands outstretched and moved cautiously forward until he reached the wall. He followed the wall around until he came to a door. He ran his hands over the door and felt a small rectangular opening with bars in it, but there was wood beyond the bars, a shutter of some type. Colonel Donil clenched his fists and pounded on the door. A moment later the shutter moved away from the small window and the light from the torch lit corridor beyond the door flooded through. A face appeared in the window.

“Keep it down in there,” scowled the guard.

“I need to speak to someone,” demanded the colonel. “I do not belong in here.”

“You keep quiet in there,” retorted the guard, “or someone will be in to beat some quiet into you.”

The guard closed the shutter, returning the cell to darkness. Colonel Donil slumped to the floor. He was tempted to bang on the door again, but he knew
 
that he had to have the right words to say before he did. Just demanding to be let out would not gain him anything but the ire of the guards. As the colonel thought about what to say, he realized that he knew precious little that would gain him a chance to speak to someone other than the guards.

He didn’t know who General Forshire really was, nor did he know who the Ranger reported to. He did not know if he was even in Alcea, although he guessed that he probably was. He knew so little about the world. There might even be another continent out there that he was unaware of. What if he said that he was working for the Alceans and these people were enemies of the Alceans? Or the Federation could even have captured him. The men who ambushed him wore no uniforms, but they had called him a runaway. Perhaps they thought he was a deserter. The colonel’s mind spun with confusion. Finally, he thought of the one thing that he could say that would not endanger him. He rose to his feet again and banged on the door. The shutter opened very quickly and an angry face appeared.

“I will not warn you again,” spat the guard. “Be quiet.”

“The 37
^th
Corps and the 38
^th
Corps of the Federation are only a few leagues away,” Colonel Donil said quickly. “I must speak to your leader.”

The shutter slammed shut, and Colonel Donil once again found himself in darkness.

Outside the cell, the guards were changing shifts. The new guard and the old guard exchanged brief greetings.

“Quiet tonight?” asked the new guard.

“All except the Fed they brought in this morning,” answered the old guard. “He keeps banging on the door as if he is someone important. I think those hunters must have hit him a little harder than they should have. The guy is delirious. He just mumbled something about two Federation Corps being only a few leagues away.”

“Probably a deserter then,” the new guard replied. “He probably fears getting caught by them more than he fears us. I doubt he even knows that the war is over. He’ll get the picture when he is shipped off to one of the prisoner camps. Any idea when that will happen.”

“It can’t be too soon for me,” laughed the old guard. “I don’t look forward to him keeping me up all night.” The guard suddenly frowned. “I bet it won’t be for a few days at least. The last time the baron sent some of them off there were five or six of them. I doubt he would send a detail out for a lone runaway.”

“I figure you have the right of it,” agreed the new guard. “Happy dreams.”

East of the Calusa-Waxhaw Road, Colonel Atman raised his hand to halt the five regiments of the Federation’s 30
^th
Corps. Before him stood the mouth of a narrow canyon. He stared at it suspiciously.

“Did they have any sentries on the ridges?” he asked the soldier who had escaped from the patriot’s hideout.

“They had no sentries at all,” answered the soldier. “Not even at the mouth of the cave.”

“That seems rather careless of them,” the colonel commented. “I find it hard to believe that even the rebels would be so negligent.”

“They were a confident lot,” offered the soldier, “and the cave has all the signs of having been used as a camp for a long time.”

“You have fulfilled your task, soldier,” the colonel waved dismissively. “Join the ranks and prepare for battle.”

Colonel Atman turned and waved his second in command forward. Colonel Cidel soon joined him and the officers sat side by side staring at the mouth of the canyon.

“You think it is a trap?” asked Colonel Cidel.

“It would be if I had my army in that cave,” Colonel Atman nodded. “I want you to take the 2
^nd
Regiment and find a way around this mountain. I want to make sure that there is no exit at the other end of that cave.”

“I heard that the canyon is nearly a league in length,” commented Colonel Cidel. “It will take me some time to find a way around the mountain. How will we stay in touch?”

“We won’t need to communicate,” answered Colonel Atman. “Your regiment is merely to stop the rebels from fleeing from me. Kill any of them that come your way. I will have more than enough men without taking yours. After we are done, I will send a runner to notify you.”

“Alright,” shrugged Colonel Cidel. “Are you still planning to march right in? What if it is a trap?”

Colonel Atman chuckled. “I am not that stupid, Cidel. I plan to put a company up on each ridge before I enter the canyon. The bulk of my men will camp here for tonight. That will give you plenty of time to get around the mountain. In the morning, my four thousand men will advance into the canyon and strike them before they awaken from their drunken stupor. We will be on our way back to Calusa before high sun tomorrow.”