The Council of Advisors collectively gasped as Alex tackled the king and held him to the floor. For a moment, no one moved or spoke. Eventually, Alan Markel rose to his feet, his hands trembling.
“Do not endanger yourself on my behalf, Alex,” the noble said shakily. “Alcea needs you right now. The dungeons do not.”
“Enough, Alex,” pleaded General Gregor. “Let the king up.”
Theos watched everyone with an uneasy feeling. While he had held a magical shield around the King of Alcea during his entire time in the library, it was clear that a simple physical attack had made his efforts worthless. He dropped the spell, as he wondered if he should intervene and remove Alex from his position on top of the king. The Knight of Alcea was not attacking King Arik. He was only holding him down, and he had not made a move towards a weapon. The Tyronian mage stood undecided.
The commotion had been loud, and the noise had not been contained in the library. The Red Swords that had been standing guard outside the library opened the door and charged into the room. They halted just inside the door as their eyes took in the scene. Alex saw the Red Swords enter, and he released the king and rose to his feet. King Arik pushed himself off the floor and leaped to his feet. His face was distorted with anger as he pulled the Sword of Heavens free from its sheath. Alex knew that he could not defend himself against the king without the Red Swords attacking, and he was not about to shed friendly blood to save himself. He immediately dropped to one knee before the king and bowed his head, putting his faith in King Arik. He could not have picked a worse time to have such faith in the Alcean king. King Arik raised the Sword of Heavens high over his head and brought it down with a vengeance.
Alex heard the shouted warnings and cries of protest. He looked up with confusion as he saw the king bringing down the Sword of Heavens. He closed his eyes and silently bid Jenneva farewell, but the blow never struck him. Instead he heard the clanging of a sword falling to the floor followed closely by the thud of a body. Alex opened his eyes and stared at the body of King Arik.
“Take Alex to the dungeons,” ordered General Gregor, “and get a healer in here immediately.”
The Red Swords stepped forward and seized Alex by his arms. The Knight of Alcea offered no resistance as they dragged him to his feet and marched him out of the room. Konic Clava raced out of the room to get a healer.
“This meeting is over,” announced Prince Oscar. “Everyone should leave the library now.”
The advisors filed out of the room until only Prince Oscar and Theos were left. The prince stared at the Tyronian mage as if to ask if he had heard the order given to clear the room. Theos did not notice. His eyes were focused on one of the library shelves searching for something.
“What is going on?” the mage asked suspiciously.
“You should leave now,” repeated Prince Oscar. “The king no longer needs any magical protection. If you are concerned about the king…”
“I am not concerned for the king’s well being,” Theos said calmly. “I have been a victim of that spell myself. Where is the fairy, and what is going on?”
Prince Oscar moved quickly to close the door and then returned to the king’s side. He looked Theos in the eye and sighed.
“The king was going to kill Alex,” explained Prince Oscar. “It would have been foolish not to stop it.”
“If you had not dropped your magical shield,” chirped Prince Midge as he moved from behind a book on one of the bookshelves, “a Knight of Alcea would have died here today. Why did you not put a physical shield around Alex to prevent his death? You saw what was happening.”
Theos frowned at the question. It was a valid one, and the Tyronian mage examined his own actions, or lack of action. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I thought about removing Alex from on top of the king, but I chose not to interfere as it appeared that no harm would come to the king. Perhaps I should have reevaluated things when the king became aggressive.”
“The king has been aggressive all day,” retorted Prince Midge. “There is something wrong with him. I am worried.”
“How do you mean?” asked Theos.
“Arik and Alex have always been quite close,” Prince Oscar replied. “It is unthinkable that either of them would hurt the other.”
“But Alex did attack the king,” frowned Theos. “Are they both mad?”
“Alex stopped the king from killing Tedi’s father,” stated Prince Oscar. “Arik may not have intended to hurt Alan, but he sometimes forgets how strong he is. That is all Alex tried to do.”
Theos nodded with understanding. “I have been impressed with both Alex and King Arik, but I guess that I don’t really know either one of them very well. I did not realize that the king was acting uncommonly strange.”
“Well, he is,” declared Prince Oscar. “I think for now it might be better for everyone if it was not discovered that Prince Midge put the king to sleep. In Arik’s current mood, that might cause a rift between him and the fairy people, and we have too many rifts as it is.”
“How will you explain the king’s fainting?” asked Theos.
“I will have him carried to his bed and let a healer examine him,” smiled Prince Oscar. “He will be declared healthy and then go about his business. Nothing could be simpler.”
“What about his address to the people?” asked the mage.
“That will not occur today,” answered Prince Oscar. “In fact, it must not. Until we can determine what is truly wrong with Arik, we must keep him from creating more disharmony.”
“I feel uncomfortable with this,” admitted Theos. “We are manipulating the King of Alcea, and it is not our place to do so. He may make mistakes, but it is his province to do so, not ours.”
“We are not trying to take authority away from the king,” stated Prince Oscar. “We are trying to save his life.”
“Are you saying that the king’s life is in danger?” asked Theos.
“Absolutely,” replied Prince Oscar. “I do not know the nature of his sudden irritability, but it is affecting many people in the city right now. Whatever it is, it is not natural.”
Theos raised an eyebrow and suddenly seemed lost in thought. Before more could be said, the door opened. Queen Tanya and Jenneva entered the library with Red Swords behind them. The queen ran to Arik’s side. Jenneva moved slowly to let the queen arrive first.
“What happened here?” asked the queen.
“Let the Red Swords carry the king to his chambers,” suggested Prince Oscar. “I will accompany you and explain what I can on the way there.”
Seeing that the king was alive with no visible wounds, the queen nodded and rose to her feet. Jenneva narrowed her eyes and looked around the room, pausing as her gaze fell on Prince Oscar, Prince Midge, and finally, Theos. Oscar realized that Jenneva suspected foul play, but she said nothing. The Red Swords hurried across the room and two of them lifted King Arik and carried him out of the library. The queen frowned as she bent down and picked up the Sword of Heavens.
“Start your telling, Prince Oscar,” demanded the queen.
Prince Oscar told Tanya what had happened, only leaving out the fact that Prince Midge had cast a sleep spell on the king to save Alex’s life.
“I don’t know what is wrong with him today,” sighed the queen. “He was fine when he woke up, but by the time we reached the library, he was looking for a fight. I have never seen him like this before.”
The queen followed the Red Swords into the king’s chambers, but Jenneva stopped short of entering. She reached out and placed her hand on Prince Oscar’s arm to stop him outside the door.
“I do not know what game the three of you are playing,” she said softly, “but I have been up all night tending to the sick, and I need to get back to it as soon as possible. In the meantime, I need sleep. Now, tell me honestly, are my healing skills needed inside the king’s chambers?”
Prince Oscar shook his head and nodded towards Prince Midge on his shoulder. Jenneva shook her head, her lips pressed firmly together in a show of displeasure.
“Why?” she asked.
“To save Alex,” Prince Midge frowned. “I would have thought you would have been pleased that I kept him alive.”
“Arik would never hurt Alex,” retorted Jenneva, “and you know that, Prince Midge.”
“Arik would have killed Alex,” Prince Oscar said seriously. “Prince Midge did indeed save Alex’s life.”
Jenneva’s face clouded with concern. “Where is Alex?”
“General Gregor had him taken to the dungeons,” answered Theos. “He had, after all, attacked the king.”
“Get him out,” demanded Jenneva.
“I cannot,” replied Prince Oscar. “No doubt General Gregor informed the dungeon guards of the offense committed. They will only release him on the king’s orders. That is the law for an attack on the king’s body.”
“Oh, bother,” scowled Jenneva. “Come with me, Midge.”
Jenneva turned abruptly and entered the king’s chambers. Prince Midge darted from Prince Oscar’s shoulder to Jenneva’s shoulder just before she slammed the door shut. The queen looked up with a shocked expression.
“General Gregor has imprisoned Alex for attacking the king,” scowled Jenneva. “I will have no harm come to my husband, Tanya. Do you understand me?”
“He is my father, Mother,” frowned the queen. “I would not let anything happen to him. I will have him released immediately.”
“Prince Oscar says that only the king can have him released,” retorted Jenneva, “and frankly, Tanya, I do not trust Arik to do that, at least not in his current state of mind.”
Queen Tanya frowned and she opened her mouth to respond, but Jenneva gave her no opportunity.
“And before you say that Arik would not harm Alex, I just learned that the king tried to kill Alex in the library.”
“Who said such a thing?”
“Prince Oscar,” answered Jenneva, “and Prince Midge and Theos agree with his assessment. If you still have doubts, there were plenty of other people in the library.”
“What is going on, Mother?”
“I don’t know,” answered Jenneva, “but I am dead on my feet. I need sleep desperately, but I will not sleep if there is even a chance that harm will come to Alex. I need a solemn promise from you, Tanya.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to let Prince Midge keep Arik asleep until I wake up,” answered Jenneva. “That is the only way that I can be sure that Alex will still be alive.”
“Keep Arik asleep?” frowned the queen. “What do you mean by that? Is he not ill?”
“Tell her, Midge.”
The fairy prince squirmed on Jenneva’s shoulder, but the queen’s demanding stare required him to answer.
“I put the Bringer to sleep to stop him from killing Alex,” confessed Prince Midge. “It was the only thing I could think of.”
Queen Tanya sighed deeply and shook her head. “All right,” she agreed. “I will let Prince Midge keep Arik asleep, but things are getting way out of control around here. Mother, you will come here as soon as you wake up and then we will all discuss this problem.”
* * * *
As the 21st Corps of Spino marched northward along the Toulane River in Sordoa, a corporal rubbed his eyes and glanced once more at the ridge to his west. He thought he had seen the sun glint off of something metal, and he searched the ridge to find it again. When he did find it again, he gasped and his step faltered. The man behind the corporal bumped into him and the column began to unravel. Shouts and curses alerted the squad leader of a problem, and Sergeant Turang stepped out of the column.
“Chitor, out!” shouted the sergeant. “The rest of you close up the column.”
The corporal stepped out of the column and strode dutifully towards the sergeant.
“What is your problem, Chitor? Is walking too difficult for you? Should I ask General Ritka to let you use his horse?”
“I am sorry, Sergeant,” apologized the corporal, “but we have problems.”
“You have problems,” scowled Sergeant Turang. “Don’t try to make them mine.”
“Turn around slowly,” Corporal Chitor said softly. “Up on the ridge you will see a glint of light. Tell me what you see.”
The sergeant turned around casually and glanced up at the ridge. At first he saw nothing, and he was about to berate the corporal some more, but just as he was about to give up searching for whatever he was supposed to see, a glint of light struck his eye. The sergeant focused on the source of the glint.
“What is it?” the sergeant said softly.
“It’s a dwarf,” the corporal replied nervously.
“Be serious,” scowled the sergeant. “You wouldn’t know a dwarf if one bit your sister. What makes you think it is a dwarf?”
“What else could it be?” asked the corporal. “It’s short and stocky just like they are supposed to be”
“It could just be a small person,” frowned the sergeant. “I think you let those rumors get the best of you. There are no dwarves.”
“Look at the axe,” retorted the corporal. “That thing is twice as big as the dwarf. Do you really think a short man would be able to lift such a thing? It’s a dwarf I tell you.”
“Then dwarves are pretty stupid,” countered the sergeant. “If he was trying to spy on us unseen, he failed miserably. I bet a good bowman could hit him with one shot from here.”
“Stupid?” scoffed the corporal. “He is not trying to remain unseen. Neither of us saw him until he tilted that huge axe to catch the rays of the sun and send them towards us. He wants to be seen.”
Deep furrows creased the sergeant’s forehead. Chitor was right on one point. The sergeant would have never seen the dwarf if the sunlight had not reflected off the axe, but why would he announce his position when he could remain hidden?
“Why?” asked the sergeant.
“He is taunting us,” answered the corporal. “He is telling us that the dwarves are not afraid of us.”
“Well I know how to wipe that smile off his face,” scowled the sergeant as he turned back towards the column and scanned the ranks of the approaching soldiers.
He saw the next company coming, and he waved to the captain. The captain stepped out of the column and approached the sergeant.
“What is it, Sergeant?”
“If you look over my shoulder, Captain,” Turang said softly, “you will see a dwarf watching the column. This is an opportunity for you to have your best archer score the first kill in Alcea.”
The captain gazed up at the ridge, and his face darkened with anger. “Do you think it is funny to try to make a fool out of me, Sergeant?”
“No,” balked the sergeant as he spun around and gazed at the spot where the dwarf had been. “He was there just a moment ago. I swear it. Ask Corporal Chitor here. He saw it first.”
“Nice try, Sergeant,” the captain smiled thinly. “Just to show you that I do have a sense of humor, I will speak to your captain at camp tonight. I will request that he lend us your talents to handle latrine duty for my entire company. Now, find your spot in the column and return there immediately.”
The captain turned and headed back to the column.
“Great,” scowled the sergeant. “That sure made me look like a fool. Let’s get back in line before he decides on more punishment.”
The two men hurried forward to retake their assigned places in the column, but they talked as they walked.
“Do you think the dwarves were responsible for killing the black-cloaks?” asked the corporal.
“No,” replied the sergeant. “I heard it was an assassin.”
“An assassin,” scoffed the corporal. “Do you really think a lone man could enter our camp and assassinate eight battle mages? I think that is a story made up so that the rest of us don’t get scared. I bet the dwarves did it.”
“And you think it would be easier for dwarves to sneak into camp?” chuckled the sergeant. “I think you are deranged.”
“The dwarves probably have mages of their own,” retorted the corporal. “They could probably crush this entire column any time they wanted to. I think they are just toying with us.”
“Shut up!” snarled the sergeant. “I don’t want to hear any more about dwarves.”
* * * *
Prince Garong sat on the grass with a fairy standing on his knee. The Knight of Alcea stared at the image that the fairy was creating and shook his head.
“He should be looking directly into my eyes,” said the Elderal prince. “And keep his speech short. Your images of him are limited, so use as few phrases as possible to get your point across.”
Sprout frowned deeply, his tiny green head slowly shaking side-to-side. “It would help if you could just tell me which images to display.”
A female elf stood at the edge of the glade shaking her head. “You are wasting your time, Garong. We should just sneak into their camp at night and kill the mages.”
“Nothing would please me more, Rhula,” frowned the elven prince, “but Valon has forbidden it. He is afraid that their spell of fear will cause more deaths and alert the enemy to our methods.”
“Alert the enemy?” scoffed Princess Rhula. “Every day that passes, General Fortella and his army get a day closer to Tagaret, and the elves of Elderal are the only thing in his way. If we are to try to slow down his army, we have to eliminate the black-cloaks first. We do not have time for fairy games.”
“Valon’s word is law,” retorted Prince Garong. “When King Arik says not to enter their tents at night, we will not enter their tents at night. There is no point in arguing about this.”
“Then a lot of elves are going to die this week,” scowled Princess Rhula.
The elven princess turned and disappeared into the trees. Sprout turned and faced Prince Garong with a hurt look on his face.
“Fairy games? I don’t think the princess cares much for me.”
“Nonsense,” smiled Prince Garong. “Rhula treats everyone that way. Do not take it personally. She almost killed Valon one day, but that was before we knew who he was.”
“You mean the Bringer?” asked Sprout.
“Yes,” answered the Knight of Alcea. “We call King Arik Valon, just as you call him the Bringer. Now, let’s try this again.”
“I think part of the problem is that I have not seen that many priests,” frowned the tiny, green man, “and none of them spoke much while I was watching them. I cannot add words that I never heard him speak. Perhaps another fairy could do better, one who has seen and heard many priests. Such a fairy would have a large remembrance and be able to piece together the snippets required for this task.”
Prince Garong smiled sympathetically. He knew that Sprout felt inadequate for the task, but there was no time to gather other fairies and audition them. They had to kill the black-cloaks today, or they would not be able to slow the march from Mya to Tagaret enough to make a difference.
“You can do this, Sprout,” the elf said assuringly. “We just have to find the right combination of remembrances. Let’s start again. Show me what you remember, and I will pick out what we need.”
* * * *
Morgora was bored. As a black-cloak attached to General Fortella’s 2nd Corps, he found the pace of the march agonizingly slow and the opposition nonexistent. Even the training marches back in Zara were more eventful. On the training marches there had been locals to harass and intimidate, but they had not seen a single Alcean since coming through the portal. Hoping that they would run across a lone trapper or hiker to have some fun with, Morgora kept scanning the forest on both sides of the road. When he finally did see someone in the trees, the sight was not one that he had expected.
Standing well off the road where he was hard to see, K’san stared at Morgora and beckoned the black-cloak to come to him. It was an unusual request as the priests never mingled with the army as the black-cloaks did. Morgora was intrigued and a little bit thankful for the diversion. Without a word to the others, the black-cloak turned his horse to the side of the road. As the column continued past him, the black-cloak rode into the forest until he reached the area where he had seen the priest. He frowned when he found K’san standing in the midst of a large thicket. There was no way to approach the priest.
“Your appearance here is quite unusual,” Morgora said in a way of greeting. “What did you want?”
“You are to come to me tonight,” replied K’san. “Bring your brothers, but no one else is to know of this meeting. North of the camp. Less than a league. Go now.”
Morgora’s brow creased heavily. “What is this about? Why are we to sneak out of the camp without telling anyone?”
“Return to your task,” replied K’san.
The priest’s eyes moved as if they were focusing on something behind Morgora. The black-cloak turned to see what K’san was looking at. He saw nothing but trees. When he turned back to ask the priest about the need for secrecy, K’san was gone.
Morgora turned his horse and headed back towards the column, but he was no longer bored. The priest had said very little, but his appearance in the forest and the need for secrecy spoke volumes to the black-cloak. It was obvious to Morgora that K’san had a need for the black-cloaks, and that sounded exciting, certainly more exciting than anything that had happened since coming through the portal. The more Morgora thought about the priest’s words, the more curious he grew. The need for secrecy indicated that either he did not trust General Fortella, or the 2nd Corps had been infiltrated. Either way, Morgora felt that exciting days were just around the corner.