Dwarven Ruby (29 page)

“Do you know the nature of the threat, Captain?” asked one of the sergeants.

“No,” frowned the captain, “but it may be an internal threat. Colonel Salvo took it seriously enough that he does not want anyone to know about this reassignment. That means that your buddies will not hear about the move. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” the men shouted in unison.

“You will also not report in at the mansions when you arrive,” continued the captain. “You will ask the guards at the gate where the men can camp, and then tell them that they are not to speak of it until authorized by Colonel Salvo or myself. Let me make this clear in case some of you have not been following me. This is not a casual outing for your men. They are to set up a camping area on the estates, and then I want them to remain on alert. I will expect one third of your men to be ready to repel any attack at any given time. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” the men shouted in unison.

“Good,” the captain said sternly. “Now I am going to try to catch up with Colonel Salvo before the inn runs out of food. I expect to see these barracks empty when we return from our meal.”

Captain Bantim finally returned the salute and stormed out of the barracks. He began his whistling again as he approached the gates and then returned to the Palace Shadow. He walked through the Palace Shadow and emerged out back where a carriage was waiting for him. He climbed into the carriage and immediately began changing his clothes as the carriage rolled onto the city streets. By the time the carriage entered the estate of Stafa Rakech, Zack Nolan was once again dressed as Fabel.

* * *

The black shapes flitted soundlessly from shadow to shadow while the city slept. Occasionally a burning torch would disappear from its sconce on the wall of a building. Other torches would simply be extinguished for no apparent reason. Wherever the black shapes flew, the city grew darker.

David Jaynes grabbed hold of the rope that was lowered from the rooftop of a tall building. With a grace that belied his years, David smoothly pulled himself up the rope and onto the roof. He immediately moved away from the rope to allow the other men to come up. David moved to the edge of the roof and gazed down upon the city of Tagaret. He smiled with approval as he saw the growing line of darkness snaking through the city. While most of Tagaret was dimly lit with infrequent torches, a totally black line running from the Royal Palace towards the western gate stood out clearly. Along that line there was not a single shred of light. He softly ran across the roof to peer towards the gate.

From his new vantage point, David could see the black line extending towards the gate. He nodded to himself and scanned the rooftops of the buildings across the street. As hard as he tried, he was unable to see the archers that he knew were there. A warm feeling of the type that came from a successful raid washed over him, and he had to remind himself that the operation was just beginning. David focused on the growing black line again as it neared the gate. He knew the intended movements of the black shadows below, but even with that knowledge he could not follow their progress. As the black line spread right up to the gate, he imagined that he could see three shadows on each side of the gate separating from the rest.

One of those shadows was Jami Witzak, the younger brother of Randi Witzak. Jami pressed his body against the tower alongside the gate. When his two teammates had joined him in the darkness, Jami silently cracked the door to the tower open. Jami’s two teammates swept through the door silently. Jami followed swiftly. Inside he saw his teammates holding the bodies of two Targa soldiers. One of the black shadows had his foot balancing a chair that threatened to fall and make a noise. The man could not set the chair down because of the body he was supporting. Jami walked over to the chair and grabbed it so his teammate could remove his foot. Jami silently set the chair down. His teammates quietly laid the unconscious soldiers on the ground and began tying them up and gagging them. Jami softly padded up the steps of the tower, all the while counting numbers in his head. When he reached the top of the steps he halted in the shadows.

He knew the next step was the most dangerous in terms of discovery. The top of the tower had burning torches that had not been extinguished. The timing of his attack had to be synchronized with the conquest of the other tower and the two guards within the gate itself. The Rangers had developed a counting rhythm to synchronize events. All of the Rangers practiced the rhythm everyday, even when doing mundane chores. Jami continued counting.

When Jami’s numbers fell into place, he moved swiftly upward. The soldier stood facing away with his arms carelessly leaning on the parapet. Jami stepped up behind him and looped a wire garrote around the man’s neck.

“We have no need to harm you,” Jami said softly. “We do however demand silence.”

The guard began to frantically struggle and Jami tightened the garrote.

“Are you so anxious to die?” Jami snarled softly as he heard a soft footfall behind him. “Relax so I can tie you up instead of having to kill you.”

One of Jami’s teammates stepped past him with two loops of rope. He began tying the guard’s feet together. The guard struggled to remain free. As Jami tightened the garrote tighter, the guard gave up his struggle and his body went limp. Jami lowered the unconscious body to the floor as his other teammate stepped out of the stairwell wearing a Targa uniform. Jami and his black clad teammate carried the guard’s body down the stairs, leaving his fake replacement on top of the tower. Jami stepped out of the tower and placed his back against the wall again. He scanned the street until he saw the rider slowly approaching. As the rider drew close, Jami stepped out of the shadow and signaled success. He instantly merged back into the shadow as Mitar Vidson passed by.

Mitar rode towards the other tower to receive the success signal before turning through the gate. Inside the gate, which was now open, two men dressed in Targa uniforms gave the success signal as Mitar slowly rode through. Mitar smiled as he rode into the new section of Tagaret, which existed between the old wall and the new wall. Far in the distance, Mitar could still see some lights along the street, but they were mysteriously winking out. By the time he reached the outer gate, the path from the outer gate to the Royal Palace had been secured.

“Open the gate and give the signal,” ordered Mitar.

The torches from the towers on each side of the gate began to move back and forth. Mitar watched as the first Red Swords appeared out of the forest. They moved slowly and deliberately, their eyes scanning the wall and the clear area before it. Mitar turned his horse around and headed for the Royal Palace. The assault on the Royal Palace was reserved as the last action of the night. It was the part of the plan that was most likely to alert the Targa army. It was decided that the queen should already be in the city before the takeover was attempted.

Mitar rode through the city streets at a slow trot, fast enough to guarantee that he would have time to determine the success of the mission, and yet slow enough so that the noise would not signal any danger. His eyes scanned the route that the queen would pass by in just a few minutes.

The enormity of the operation pressed heavy upon Mitar. Close to three thousand men lined the selected route. If an alarm were raised at this point, Tagaret would suffer a bloodbath of enormous proportions, making the future defense of the city almost impossible.

Mitar slowed as the gates to the Royal Palace came into view. Up ahead he saw an officer heading towards the gates. The officer was whistling loudly. As the officer neared the gates, the two soldiers stationed there saluted. The officer started to walk through the gates when a voice echoed loudly from the direction of the Palace Shadow. The officer turned and stared into the darkness. After a moment’s hesitation, the officer waved to the unseen voice and called out to him in a friendly manner.

“Sergi, you old dog,” called the officer. “When did you get back?”

“Just tonight, Bantim,” replied the approching officer. “Do you know if Colonel Salvo is in this late? I was supposed to report to him as soon as I arrived.”

Captain Bantim turned to one of the soldiers guarding the gate, as the second officer approached the other.

“Is the Colonel still here?” he asked. “I have not seen him since dinner.”

The soldier shrugged and turned to look towards the palace. Captain Bantim’s open hand struck the soldier’s neck soundly. He reached out and grabbed the man’s body before it fell noisily. Sergi was already holding the other unconscious soldier. Shadows flitted from across the street and lifted the two bodies. They carried the bodies away. Two men dressed in Targa uniforms marched across the street and took up positions where the unconscious guards had stood. Mitar nodded to his men as he halted at the gate.

“Has there been any change in their routine inside the palace?” Mitar asked Captain Bantim.

“No,” the captain shook his head. “They are as lax as usual. These lads have no right guarding a privy. This is almost no challenge.”

“Never underestimate the chance of failure, Zack,” frowned Mitar. “These lads will do fine once they are trained properly. How long before the rest of the men are over the wall?”

“One three zero and counting,” Captain Bantim replied. “They will come over the wall at one hundred.”

“Perfect,” grinned Mitar. “I want you to take one last look inside the palace. Take Randi Witzak with you.”

“That’s Sergi to you, Sir,” grinned Randi. “At least while I am wearing this foul uniform.”

Mitar grinned and nodded as the two officer impersonators turned and headed for the palace doors. At the count of one hundred, Mitar waved his hand in the air and signaled the waiting shadows across the street. He rode slowly into the courtyard of the Royal Palace as his men ran across the street. Mitar rode past the Red Sword barracks and around the corner of the palace until he could see the regular army barracks. He sat there watching the shadows sliding down ropes from the walls. The shadows immediately broke up into teams, which positioned themselves around each of the barrack buildings. Wooden wedges were silently slid under the doors to the barracks. The next set of shadows over the wall took up positions along the wall with their bows ready. The last set of shadows took up positions alongside the doors leading into the Royal Palace itself.

Mitar nodded to himself and turned around. He rode back to the gates and peered down the darkened street. He could not see the approaching army, but he could hear the dull thunder of their hooves. He was glad that General Gregor had decided to muffle the horses’ hooves or the noise would have awoken people. Within seconds the vanguard of the escorting Red Swords came into view. Mitar moved to one side of the gate to avoid obstructing traffic.

“Did the Rangers all get in without a hitch?” Mitar asked one of the gate guards.

“They did, Sir,” nodded the soldier. “Precisely on the count as well.”

Mitar nodded as Sergeant Trank came into view leading the queen’s escort. The sergeant nodded to Mitar as he rode through the gates of the Royal Palace.

Sergeant Trank halted and turned around to face the gates just outside the doors to the Royal Palace. He watched as the first dozen Red Swords smoothly dismounted and ran several long tether lines the length of the walls. The lines were secured and the dozen Red Swords ran back to the gates. As the Red Sword soldiers arrived in the courtyard, they dismounted and clipped their reins to the tether lines. Sergeant Trank sat on his horse and watched the arriving men dismount and disperse to their assigned locations. Although the operation was swift and smooth, it took half an hour for the queen’s carriage to arrive in the courtyard. By that time, three hundred Red Swords were already inside the Royal Palace. General Gregor dismounted and clipped his horse to the tether line, and then opened the door to the carriage. Queen Marta stepped out and looked around the courtyard. General Gregor snapped his fingers and a protective squad formed around him and the queen. The squad led the queen into the Royal Palace.

They strode slowly and carefully through the corridors of the palace, which were lined by Red Swords, until they reached the residence section. The doors to the King’s Chamber stood open.

“I would prefer my old room,” stated Queen Marta as the squad stopped in front of the open doors.

“For now you will reside in the King’s Chamber,” replied General Gregor. “We are better able to protect you here.”

“Not to mention that the Queen’s Chamber is uninhabitable,” added Zack Nolan as he stepped out of the King’s Chamber. “The palace staff has been living in the residence section. Only the King’s Chamber has been off limits to them.”

“But this is where Arik should be staying,” protested Queen Marta.

“And so he shall in the future,” nodded General Gregor with a smile on his lips, “but for now you shall stay here. Save your venom for the Council. They are sorely in need of it.”

“So I shall,” chuckled the queen as she swept into the King’s Chamber. “Were there any casualties?”

“I will have a report in minutes,” promised General Gregor. “I think it went exceedingly well.”

“The morning will be a critical time,” offered Zack. “We may have gotten the queen here safely, but we cannot hide her from the Council and the army.”

“I have not come here to hide,” the queen said sternly. “I will address the Council in the morning.”

Mitar Vidson entered the room and bowed to the queen. “Welcome home, Your Highness,” greeted Mitar.

“You have the report, Mitar?” asked General Gregor.

“I do,” nodded Mitar. “There were sixteen casualties in all.”

“Sixteen men died getting me here?” questioned the queen.

“Not exactly,” smiled Mitar. “Sixteen men were wounded during the operation. Two Targans at the outer gates and fourteen Targans inside the Royal Palace. None of the injuries are serious, although several involve broken bones.”

“The bloodless coup,” smiled General Gregor. “You have my congratulations Mitar. You and all of the men who made this possible.”