Alutar: The Great Demon (57 page)

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Authors: Richard S. Tuttle

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Young Adult

BOOK: Alutar: The Great Demon
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Thimble shot through the crack under the door and disappeared as Karl helped Althea to her feet. Althea looked sorrowfully at Clint, but the Ranger purposely turned away and began readying his weapons. He pulled the small quiver of myric quills from his pack and attached them to his belt while Karl guided Althea out of the room. A few moments after the door closed, Clint was ready for battle. He turned to stride out of the door when he saw a fairy hovering before him.

“Peanut?” Clint said with surprise. “When did you get back?”

“I arrived with Karl and Thimble,” answered the fairy. “If you were not so concerned about Karl and Althea, you would have noticed me sooner. Are you no longer concerned about them?”

Clint sighed anxiously as he tried to keep his mind focused on the battle plan. He suddenly frowned as the fairy’s words struck him. “Mercy!” he exclaimed. “I should be guiding them to the tower. If anyone sees them, they will be attacked without me to cover for them. What was I thinking?”

Clint tore the door open and raced out of the room. Peanut shot after him and hovered over his head as the general ran through the corridors.

“Perhaps you were thinking about how you would salvage your own life from this mess,” offered the fairy. “This mission does not seem to be going well at all.”

“It almost never does when people let their emotions rule their thinking,” Clint said softly to his partner. “Go on ahead and watch over them until I catch up.”

Peanut shot forward with a burst of speed and soon entered the stairwell. He could hear the footsteps of people above him, and he cautiously slowed down so that he would not risk stumbling into soldiers. When he eventually caught up to the fleeing couple, they were just entering the tower stairwell. Karl noticed the fairy immediately and stopped with a quizzical expression, wondering what would cause Clint to send Peanut after him. Althea kept running up the stairs.

“You will not escape by standing here,” frowned Peanut. “Keep going. I will watch over you.”

“I am glad Clint thought to send you,” Karl remarked. “I will need you to levitate Althea to the ground. She cannot climb the tower as I can.”

The Knight of Alcea turned and started running up the stairs. Suddenly, he heard Althea scream. Karl drew his sword and raced up the stairs. As he rounded a bend, he saw Althea, her feet dangling in the air. He also saw K’san, his large black hand holding Althea by the throat. Karl moved his sword before him and angled it upward as he raced towards the demonkin. K’san uttered a guttural laugh as he roughly shook Althea and then threw her body at the Knight of Alcea. Karl’s eyes opened wide in horror as he heard Althea’s neck crack. As he reached the top step of the stairs, Althea’s body impaled on Karl’s sword, the force of the collision tearing the sword from his hands. Karl felt himself on the verge of tumbling down the stairs. He swiftly threw his body to one side and dove to the floor. As Karl’s eyes flicked back towards the stairwell in search of his sword, K’san grabbed him by the neck and lifted him off the floor.

“So this is a Knight of Alcea,” sneered K’san as he lifted Karl high in the air and walked to the nearest crenel. “I am not impressed.”

The demonkin held Karl outside the tower, ready to let him fall to his death. Karl was not sure what the priest was waiting for, but the demonkin’s hand had shut off Karl’s ability to breathe. He began to feel his head swim, and he swiftly tried to retain his ability to focus. He wondered if the Mage had enchanted all of their blades when he did the swords. Not knowing the answer to the question, he pulled the knife from his belt and tried to stab the demonkin’s arm. Karl was unsure of whether the knife pierced the skin of the priest or not, but K’san’s hand opened, and Karl felt himself falling to his death.

K’san abruptly turned away from the crenel as he heard someone coming. With a look of confusion, he saw General Forshire holding a sword, and the blade of that sword slid into the priest’s body with ease. K’san’s hands reached out to snare the traitorous general, but Clint ripped the sword upward, bringing death to the demonkin.

* * * *

General Forshire pulled two myric quills from the small quiver at his side. He held one in each hand with his arms extending downward next to his legs. As he approached the king’s chambers, the two guards stiffened at his approach, but relaxed when they recognized him.

“K’san was looking for you,” one of the guards said. “Did he find you?”

“He did,” smiled Clint as he headed straight for the king’s door. “Thank you for sending him to me.”

Clint stepped right up to the door as if he was going to enter the king’s chambers, but he had no such intention. Both of his arms quickly came up, delivering the poisonous quills into the bodies of the two guards. Both guards tumbled to the floor, and the Imperial General turned and walked away.

General Forshire made his way to the main gates of the Old Keep and asked one of the guards there to summon Colonel Magee for him. While he waited for the A Corps colonel to appear, Colonel Craz showed up.

“We need to talk, General,” the colonel said brusquely.

“Indeed we do, Colonel,” Clint replied with a steely expression. “Your security here in the Old Keep is unacceptable.”

The colonel was surprised by the general’s forceful response, and he frowned deeply, but he was not about to be put off by Forshire.

“Karl Gree did not enter this keep through the gates,” Colonel Craz declared. “You have some explaining to do, General. How did your friend gain access to the keep?”

“He climbed one of the towers,” answered Clint.

“Inconceivable,” scoffed the colonel. “He would have been seen and reported. Where is he now?”

“He was not seen because he had two mages holding illusions to block him from sight,” replied Clint. “As to where he is now, he is dead.”

“Dead?” echoed the colonel. “Explain.”

“He was not exactly an old friend of mine,” answered General Forshire, “although I did send a message asking him to meet me here tonight. I received word that Karl Gree was the head of the rebels here in Tyronia. I wanted him here tonight to interrogate him.”

“That is why he is now dead?” asked the colonel. “What did you learn from him?”

“That is not why he is dead,” Clint replied. “My interrogation of him was not intended to kill him, and it didn’t. What I did learn is that he already had an accomplice here in the keep, a woman named Althea.”

“I know of her,” frowned the colonel. “She is one of King Mectin’s women. I wondered why she volunteered. It made no sense at the time, and it still doesn’t. The king keeps his women restrained at all times. There is no way that she could be of any use to Karl Gree.”

“You have it backwards, Colonel,” Clint explained. “She was not helping Karl. Karl was here to free her. And you are incorrect about the king keeping his women restrained at all times. They are only restrained when he is not abusing them.”

“Then the king’s life is in danger,” the colonel said with alarm as he signaled a soldier to come to him.

“Althea is dead,” General Forshire stated firmly as the soldier halted next to the colonel and awaited his instructions. “K’san already discovered her true purpose for coming here.”

“I am confused,” Colonel Craz said softly.

“If you will refrain from interrupting,” sighed General Forshire, “I will explain it to you.”

The colonel nodded.

“When I was interrogating Karl Gree,” Clint began, “he told me about Althea and her purpose for coming here. I immediately halted the interrogation and tied the rebel to a chair while I rushed to get Althea. When I arrived at the king’s chambers, I noticed that the two guards were dead, and Althea was gone. I rushed back to my room to find Karl was gone. Evidently Althea had rescued him, but Karl had already told me of his covert entry into the keep. I ran to the tower to intercept them, but K’san was one step ahead of me. He had already killed Althea before Karl attacked him. I have to tell you, Colonel, that Karl Gree was no ordinary rebel. I believe that he was a Knight of Alcea because his blade sliced right through K’san. That is not supposed to be possible.”

“K’san is dead?” the colonel said in disbelief. “He is immortal.”

“Hardly,” scoffed General Forshire. “The Alceans have enchanted blades that can kill the priests. They have done so in Waxhaw more than once. Anyway, I was not in time to save K’san, but I was in time to make Karl Gree pay for the murder. I threw him from the tower.”

Colonel Craz addressed the soldier waiting nearby and instructed him to verify the deaths. Clint shook his head in a disapproving way, and the colonel hesitated.

“What?” Colonel Craz asked testily.

“You insist on interrupting me,” scowled General Forshire. “You are about to send this man to verify the deaths of people who are inconsequential. Send him to verify the king’s death.”

“The king?” snapped Colonel Craz. “King Mectin is dead?”

“That was Althea’s mission,” answered Clint, “and your security procedures allowed it to happen. You should have screened the women chosen to enter this keep, and you should have had roving patrols in every corridor of this keep at all times night and day. I could not find a single soldier to help me pursue the assassins. I do not think General Marashef is going to be pleased.”

“Blast Marashef,” scowled the colonel as he waved for the soldier to check on the king. “What does he matter now that the king is dead? He will probably try to place himself on the throne, but that is not going to happen. We will be ruled by a Tyronian or not at all.”

“Emperor Jaar will not permit Marashef to rule Tyronia,” stated Clint, “but that hardly matters right now. I also learned from Karl Gree that the rebels plan to attack this keep tonight. You need to start worrying more about that and less about General Marashef.”

“Tonight?” the colonel asked in disbelief. “Are you sure? He could have been lying.”

“He was telling the truth,” replied Clint, “and that leaves me with a bit of a problem. While King Mectin was on the verge of authorizing the A Corps to enter the keep, he no longer has the ability to do so. As the Imperial General of the Federation, I could take it upon myself to authorize it, but I am not anxious to get into a battle with you and your men over it. Will you allow them inside to help defend this keep?”

Colonel Craz hesitated. While he knew that King Mectin favored Forshire, the king had not readily agreed to have the A Corps inside the keep, and Craz was not sure why. While the colonel was pondering the question, an A Corps colonel appeared and walked up to General Forshire.

“What do your patrols report, Colonel Magee?” asked General Forshire.

“There is a lot of movement in the city streets,” answered Colonel Magee. “While my men are not familiar with nighttime traditions in Ur, they recognize attempted stealth when they see it. There are hundreds of men sneaking around the city, but none of them seem to want to come near the keep. It looks as if they are trying to keep their gathering a secret.”

“I suspected as much,” nodded the general. “I want you to assemble the men for departure.”

Colonel Magee frowned in confusion. “An early morning departure?” he asked.

“An immediate departure,” the general responded. “Those rebels are gathering to attack this keep. I will not have the A Corps trapped between the rebels and the walls of this fortress. Either we will be coming inside the keep to defend it, or we will be leaving the city entirely. I will let you know the answer as soon as Colonel Craz makes up his mind.”

“Bring them in,” Colonel Craz said. “I feel confident that King Mectin would have made the same decision given the circumstances.”

“You heard the colonel,” General Forshire said to Colonel Magee. “Get the men in here as quickly and as orderly as possible. Make sure that they know that any order given by Colonel Craz is the same as if it had come from my mouth. We are guests here, and I expect the men to behave properly.”

Colonel Magee saluted and hurried out of the keep. Colonel Craz raised an eyebrow at the general’s words. Despite General Forshire berating him for his lack of security, his words seemed to show enough confidence in Colonel Craz to trust him with command of his A Corps men. Colonel Craz was pleased.

“I will leave the positioning of my men up to you,” General Forshire said, “but I would suggest intermingling them. I suspect that your men have more skill with swords, and they are better suited to protecting my archers should the walls be breeched.”

“I will see to it,” Colonel Craz replied with a smile.

General Forshire smiled and turned away from the colonel. He almost felt pity for Craz. The colonel thought highly of General Forshire, but he did not realize that the real Forshire was long dead. As Clint remembered that the colonel was devoted to the deviant dead king, his feelings of pity vanished, replaced by a quiet rage over the treatment meted out by the colonel and his dead king on the people of Ur.

* * * *

General Forshire and Colonel Craz stood on a balcony overlooking the front wall of the Old Keep. The full moon cast a glow over the castle walls and the city streets beyond. While General Forshire kept his eyes on his men below, Colonel Craz stared incredulously at the gathering rebel horde emerging from the surrounding streets.

“There are thousands of them,” the colonel said in disbelief. “How have they managed to hide so many men in this city?”

“I guess the king’s men were more interested in finding women than men,” the general quipped dryly.

“I see no siege engines or scaling ladders,” the colonel continued as if he had not heard the general. Suddenly, the general’s taunt struck him, and he turned to look at General Forshire.

“Is that how you see us?” scowled the colonel. “We are nothing more than Mectin’s procurers? We need to clear the air here, General, if we are to get along in the future. There are rumors running rampant through my men that you are to replace King Mectin as the ruler of Tyronia. While I would consider it an honor to serve under you, many of my men feel differently.”

“Oh?” General Forshire responded. “And how do your men feel?”

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