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.
Chapter 21
Unexpected Surprise
It was a bright sunny morning in Tagaret, and Sergeant Skyler whistled as he walked the streets of Tagaret. He sported a wide, friendly smile, and he nodded in greeting to everyone he passed. Less than a block from the Royal Palace, the sergeant entered a small shop and purchased a tin of pipe tobacco. He dallied in the shop for a few moments, discussing the state of the city with the shopkeeper. Both men expressed concern about the plague spreading through the population, and each of them remarked about the levels of incivility that appeared recently. It was the typical type of conversation that one would expect between two citizens, and the sergeant was careful as always not to discuss matters best left inside the Royal Palace. As an aide to the head of the Alcean army, Sergeant Skyler knew not to speak of such things in public.
The sergeant’s next stop was the shoemaker’s shop to pick up a pair of boots that he had left to be repaired. A tiny bell rang as he entered the shop. The sergeant closed the door and looked around the dimly lit shop. Thousands of pairs of shoes and boots filled the store, attesting to the large volume of customers that the shoemaker had managed to attain during his short time in the city. The curtain at the rear of the shop moved and an old man shuffled through the opening.