Emerald of the Elves (25 page)

“Zack Nolan discovered them,” replied the general. “He said that their uniforms were dirty and their boots were wet. When he looked closer, he noticed knife holes in the backs of their uniforms. He attacked them and alerted the Red Swords, but nobody thought about revenants. It was one of the ones that Zack killed that ended up assassinating Queen Marta.”

“And they were wearing Red Sword uniforms?” asked Arik.

“They were,” nodded the general. “We later found the naked bodies of the real Red Swords in the river. Since then, I have instituted new procedures for keeping track of our men. No Red Sword will be missing for more than three hours without me knowing about it. They will not use that trick again.”

“What about my entrance to the city?” questioned Arik. “Did that flush out Sarac’s people?”

“It did,” nodded the general. “Of course we can’t tell how well it went because we don’t know how many still live in Tagaret. During your entrance, fourteen were killed and twenty were captured. Jenneva destroyed another dozen during your speech.”

“Every one captured or killed helps,” declared Jenneva. “Do you think we will face similar problems during the coronation?”

“I doubt it,” replied General Gregor, “but we will be ready just the same. I think the entrance was their big chance for a quick kill. Having failed there, they will resort to treachery now.”

“How is Zack?” inquired Alex. “I heard he took a knife for Oscar.”

“He survived,” frowned General Gregor. “I do not think he will be able to resume his duties though. The knife damaged a lung. That hardly endears him to the lifestyle of a Ranger.”

“Do not sell him short,” warned Alex. “He is one of the best at obtaining intelligence. He could also make a great trainer. The Rangers will find a use for him.”

“I agree,” smiled the general. “Never take a man’s hope away from him. Zackary Nolan still has a lot to offer his country.”

“I need to get ready for the coronation,” declared Arik. “I would feel better if we can discover where those two assassins escaped to. Maybe we can discuss it further after the ceremonies?”

“I am always at your disposal,” nodded the general.

“Tanya?” asked Arik. “Will you be along shortly?”

“I can come right now,” nodded Tanya. “I offered to bring Sheri with me to the coronation. Should she come now also?”

Arik blinked as he finally noticed Sheri in the room. He seemed at a loss for words, and Alex rescued him.

“I can bring Sheri with me when I come down,” offered Alex. “Jenneva and I would enjoy her company.”

“Good,” Arik smiled as he turned and left the room with Tanya right behind him.

General Gregor pulled Alex aside for a chat and Jenneva noticed that Sheri was pouting. She walked next to the young girl and pretended to be moving lists around.

“Are you excited about the coronation?” Jenneva asked.

“Yes,” nodded Sheri.

“But something is bothering you, isn’t it?” pushed Jenneva.

“He didn’t even notice me in the room,” pouted Sheri.

“Nor did he notice the prince of the dwarves,” Jenneva pointed out as she began to understand the problem. “One thing you need to learn about royalty is that their lives are not their own. Prince Arik has so much responsibility already that he does not have time for himself. That will only get worse once he is crowned. In fact, once we find out where the Book of Things is, we will be leaving Tagaret. It is a poor excuse for a life, but that is what he must do for his people. You like him, don’t you?”

“Very much,” nodded Sheri. “Too much for my own good I guess.”

“That is understandable,” Jenneva smiled motherly. “There is so much to like in Prince Arik. Still, you should never take offense at his lack of recognition. It is not an intentional slight. It is the burden of his office and the weight of the Ancient Prophecy around his neck. He will never have much of a life to call his own. He worried about that for the longest time, but he has finally come to accept it. I guess the rest of us must accept it, too.”

“You are right,” sighed Sheri as she straightened up and brushed the tears from her eyes. “Everyone says the same thing. I have been stubborn in refusing to accept it, but I know what you say is true. I will get over it.”

“We should head down for the coronation,” smiled Jenneva. “It will be a short ceremony, and we don’t want to miss it.”

* * *

“There is nothing in Mya worth having,” scowled Lotfi. “We should continue on to Tagaret.”

“What is your hurry to get to Tagaret?” questioned Nassar. “We just captured Mya and you are ready to push onward.”

“Look around you,” snarled Lotfi. “What do you see? A lot of empty buildings are all that I see. There are no people to rule, no wealth to plunder in Abuud’s name. Why should we stay here for a single day?”

“The lack of people bothers me,” interrupted Azmet. “I had hoped to add to my army in Klandon and Mya. Instead we have left a thousand men behind in Klandon. This is unacceptable.”

“It is not worth leaving any men to protect Mya,” offered Lotfi. “There is nothing here to protect. After we conquer Tagaret, we can send some men back out here to secure the land in Abuud’s name.”

“Why did they run?” asked Halmud. “I thought we would at least get a battle out of the siege.”

“They ran because they were afraid to die,” retorted Nassar. “The fame of Azmet is spreading quickly. Everyone must know that it is futile to resist. I would wager that Tagaret yields without a battle as well.”

“Tagaret will not yield,” insisted Lotfi. “It is the city of evil. It must be destroyed totally.”

“Destroy it?” countered Nassar. “You have been pushing us towards Tagaret since we left Cleb. You spoke of the riches and splendor that we would inherit. Now you talk about destroying it all. You cannot have it both ways.”

“So we take what we want before we destroy it,” shrugged Lotfi. “What does it matter? The important thing is that we get there soon.”

“What is the rush, Lotfi?” asked Azmet suspiciously. “Nassar is correct about your pushing me towards that infernal city. Do you have another reason for wanting to be there other than spreading the word of Abuud?”

Lotfi began sweating as all eyes turned to him. He clenched his teeth and glared at Nassar. “I want Arik dead,” confessed Lotfi. “Is that not a goal consistent with spreading peace and harmony for Abuud? We conquer empty cities and think we are doing something good, but whom have we spread the word to? I urge us to push onward to Tagaret for the glory of Abuud. I ask you, Nassar, what glory goes to Abuud by our army remaining in this empty city?”

Nassar fumed and began to storm out of the room.

“Stop, Nassar,” commanded Azmet. “I have need of your council. The rest of you leave us.”

Nassar stopped and returned to Azmet’s side as everyone else left the room. Azmet put his hand calmingly on Nassar’s shoulder.

“What is bothering you, Nassar?” asked Azmet. “I have known you for a long time. Lotfi troubles you. Why?”

“I am not sure,” admitted Nassar. “There is something about him that gets under my skin. I am sure that he has motives beyond those we have, but I cannot determine what they are.”

“You are perceptive,” nodded Azmet. “Do you remember that wench, Niki?”

“The one who destroyed the statue?” questioned Nassar. “I shall never forget her. She will die slowly when our paths cross again.”

“She claimed to be the daughter of a Black Devil,” declared Azmet. “That troubled Lotfi a great deal. I wondered about that for a long time. Why should such a revelation bother Lotfi?”

“A good question,” frowned Nassar. “Do you think they are allies?”

“No,” snickered Azmet. “I think it bothered Lotfi because he is himself a Black Devil.”

“But the allegiance of Black Devils belong to the Dark One,” Nassar pointed out. “He could never truly believe in Abuud. He would be magically bound to Sarac.”

“Quite true,” nodded Azmet. “And now you know why he pushes us onward. “The story Arik told us about the Sword of Heavens must be true. That means that Arik is the prophesized king of Alcea. The Dark One wants him killed.”

“So Lotfi is trying to use your army to accomplish Sarac’s goal?” questioned Nassar.

“Precisely,” affirmed Azmet.

“Then we should kill him today,” snarled Nassar. “I will see to it.”

“No,” sneered Azmet. “Just because the Dark One wants us to destroy Tagaret does not mean that we will not. It is still a worthy goal for the pleasure of Abuud. No, we shall use Lotfi for our own purposes. When Tagaret is ours, then Lotfi shall die.”

“I would like the pleasure of killing him when the time comes,” vowed Nassar.

“Then you shall have it,” grinned Azmet. “Of course, Achmed will get his chance first. I look forward to finding out how the Black Devils operate before Lotfi dies. Now that Lotfi is no longer the driving force in our conversation, I happen to agree with his conclusion. There is nothing in Mya to keep us here. I want to move towards Tagaret in the morning.”

The Dark One’s glass shattered into hundreds of tiny glass slivers, but Sarac did not appear to notice. As the blood red wine splashed onto the desk and pooled around the shards of broken glass, the Dark One stared with closed eyes at the wall of his office. Lattimer stepped into the office and gazed at his master. Sarac’s blood dripped from his lacerated hand and mingled with the spilled wine. Lattimer grabbed a rag and walked to the desk. He took hold of Sarac’s hand and pried the fingers open. Carefully, Lattimer pulled pieces of glass from his master’s flesh and placed them on the desk. Sarac did not appear to notice the presence of the Black Devil.

When Lattimer had removed all of the glass splinters from the Dark One’s hand, he wiped off the desk and swept the glass fragments into a basin. He cast a healing spell on Sarac’s hand to close the fissures and stop the bleeding. Sarac’s eyes popped open with the use of magic.

“What is it, Lattimer?” the Dark One asked testily.

“Arik has been crowned King of Alcea,” Lattimer reported.

“Damnation,” snarled Sarac as he looked around for something to hurl at the wall. His desktop was empty. “Where is my wine?”

“You are finished with it,” Lattimer shrugged nervously.

“So your people failed again,” snapped Sarac. “How was this allowed to happen?”

Lattimer bit his tongue rather than mention that he had no men under him. To point out that the failure rested with Sarac’s men would accomplish nothing. “We lost over fifty men in the attempt to assassinate him,” Lattimer reported. “Jenneva proved to be a greater defense than we had anticipated. There is good news though.”

“Oh?” brightened the Dark One. “You have discovered who Aurora’s child is?”

“Not yet,” frowned Lattimer, “but Lotfi has convinced Azmet to move on Tagaret. The city will be under siege soon.”

“Soon?” snarled Sarac. “Everything is soon, but nothing is ever done. So we sit and hope that the false prophet does your work for you?”

“Sarac’s Ravens are close to Tagaret,” Lattimer changed the subject. “Should I instruct them to enter the city?”

Sarac gazed out the window for several minutes without answering. Finally, he spoke, “What gem are the Children working on?”

“The Emerald of the Elves,” declared Lattimer.

“And have you determined where this gem is located?” questioned the Dark One.

“Somewhat,” nodded Lattimer. “It would have to be with a major faction of the elves. The Sorelderal reside near the Southern Mountains. That area is already under clear skies. The same is true for the Dielderal in Cordonia. I think we are safe to assume that the elves of Elderal must possess the emerald.”

“Have my people from Toresh relocated to Tor yet?” inquired Sarac.

“They are in place and ready to attack on your word,” nodded Lattimer.

“But we need not attack just yet,” mused Sarac. “As you plan to let Azmet do your work for you, we have men sitting around doing nothing.”

“What are you proposing?” squinted Lattimer.

“Something that you should have suggested,” snarled the Dark One. “Use the Black Devils and the Dark Riders to destroy the elves of Elderal. Find the Emerald of the Elves and destroy it before Arik arrives. He will be busy defending his beloved Tagaret when Azmet attacks.”

“It will take some time to plan the attack and move your people to the forests of Elderal,” Lattimer pointed out.

“So what?” retorted Sarac. “Do you think that Azmet can destroy Tagaret in a single day? The siege is likely to last for months. See that my people destroy the Emerald of the Elves. That way, even if Azmet fails, we shall destroy this Ancient Prophecy once and for all.”

“It shall be as you command,” promised Lattimer.

“What of the threat from Lanoir?” Sarac asked after several moments of silence.

“Emperor Hanchi is finding little resistance to his massive army,” Lattimer stated. “General Mobami in Trekum is trying to gather all of the rogue armies of Sordoa in an attempt to hold the city. If he fails, Hanchi will move rapidly towards Tagaret.”

“Have you managed to get a man close to Emperor Hanchi yet?” questioned the Dark One.

“No,” frowned Lattimer. “We have gotten several men into the emperor’s inner circle, only to have them disappear shortly thereafter. It is as if someone down there knows who our people are. I am at a loss to explain the failure.”

“Keep trying,” demanded Sarac. “Controlling the Lanoirian army may become necessary to achieve our goals.”

“What about Sarac’s Ravens?” asked Lattimer. “Should they enter Tagaret?”

“No,” decided Sarac. “We have enough people in the city already. They must be held in reserve for when the Children leave the city. Use our people that are already in Tagaret to assassinate Arik. If he escapes, use Sarac’s Ravens.”

* * *

The stranger looked like a wealthy merchant, or the captain of a mercenary guild. His stocky stature spoke of strength, while his baldhead added a distinctive feature to remember him by. His clothing was expensive, although not lavish. He walked with a stride that boasted of confidence. Still, his eyes roved from side-to-side as he headed towards the Royal Palace. He seemed to be aware of everything that was going on around him, and yet he appeared to remain aloof. The stranger marched up to the guards at the main gates to the Royal Palace.