“I don’t know, Alex,” sighed the king. “If my memories of this morning are correct, I was indeed a very ugly king. I cannot imagine what my advisors must think of me now.”
“I am not concerned with the feelings of your advisors,” stated Alex. “I am only concerned with you. Has Zalaharic returned yet?”
Jenneva looked queerly at her husband. “He has not returned yet, but a fairy has been sent for him as well as Balamor. Why are you asking about Zalaharic?”
“Because the king was not the king this morning,” answered Alex. “Look, we all know Arik very well, and I do not think any here would question the fact that the king was not the Arik we know and love. That leads me to believe that the enemy has found a way to influence Arik without his knowledge. Zalaharic has an interesting ability to sense such things.”
“The irritability that is sweeping the city?” asked Jenneva.
“Yes,” replied Alex.
“But Theos has been maintaining a shield over Arik all day, every day,” stated the queen. “If the enemy even has a spell that can induce such irritability, its delivery would be impossible unless they can cast through our shields.” Alex nodded affirmatively and the queen frowned deeply. “You do realize that you are suggesting that the enemy has a way of getting through our shields? If that is the case, we are all in great danger.”
“Theos is not shielding him now,” Jenneva pointed out.
“Not while he is in his chambers,” frowned the queen. “There should be no need for that.”
“There is one Claw of Alutar left unaccounted for,” interjected the king, “and the Mage indicated that each would be more dangerous than the one before it. Do you think those demonkin might have such powers?”
“We can’t answer that,” Jenneva replied. “K’san certainly had powers that we were unprepared for, and I think the Claws of Alutar are far more powerful than the priests. Certainly Fakir Aziz thought so, and I would never disregard his thoughts.”
“The irritability that has swept this city is certainly not something that we expect to see from the citizens of Tagaret,” mused the queen. “I am willing to entertain the thought that someone could be using spells to accomplish this, but to what end?”
“Chaos,” answered Alex. “It is bad enough that this plague has forced us to confront General Bledsoe with only four-thousand men instead of ten-thousand, but to have the entire city in turmoil cripples us. Without proper armies to go against Bledsoe and then Fortella, we will have forty-thousand enemy soldiers sieging Tagaret. When that happens, we will need every able-bodied citizen helping us to defend the city.”
“It is a clever plan,” conceded the king. “Do you suppose the irritability and the plague are coming from the same source?”
Tanya’s eyebrow rose. “That is a possibility that I had not considered, but it might be worth pursuing. I just came from the infirmary. There are puzzles there that concern me. Jenneva and I have already started discussing the magic portion of that puzzle, but there was a sergeant sent to the infirmary just before I left. He had just come down with the plague, but he also just attacked his superior officer. I now wonder if it might make sense to see how many of the plague patients have also been uncharacteristically irritable. There might be a connection.”
“Two different symptoms from the same spell?” retorted Jenneva. “That is highly unlikely.”
“It might be unlikely,” countered the king, “but I think it is worth investigating. Tanya, why don’t you convene a meeting of the advisors and divvy up this new work among them? I do not think I can face them right now.”
“I think you need to, Arik,” stated Alex. “I know it may be embarrassing, but you need them to know that it was not you speaking this morning. We cannot afford to have dissention in our ranks.”
“He’s right, Arik,” agreed Tanya. “Tell them that you were affected by a spell and that we are looking into it. You need the council firmly behind you at this time.”
“Very well,” sighed King Arik. “I probably also need to address the citizens, too. It is long past time for them to be informed of what is facing us.”
“No,” Alex said curtly. “I do not think that is wise just yet.”
“Why not?” frowned the king.
“I am not sure,” admitted Alex, “but my gut screams every time you mention addressing the people. I tried to tell myself that I was merely concerned that you might act as you did this morning in the library, but I can now see that you have returned to your former self. Yet my gut still screams at the thought of you exposing yourself to danger. I cannot explain it any better than that.”
Arik, Tanya, and Jenneva glanced at one another, but it was the king who spoke. “Your battle instincts are enough to sway my mind, Alex, but we need to inform the people that the Crown is not ignoring their plight. Find a way for me to address them that pleases your gut, and I will hold off on public appearances for now.”
Alex nodded. “Jenneva said that Balamor has been summoned to the palace. As he is a master of illusions, I think he may be the answer. He certainly has an amazing ability for presenting something that is not there, no matter how complex the image might be.”
“That is a good idea,” agreed Jenneva. “He can spend some time with Arik as the king addresses the people in private. Balamor can then recreate that image at any place in the city, and no one will suspect that the king is not there in person.”
“Agreed,” stated the king. “Let’s get the advisors together so we don’t waste any more time than necessary.”
“Tedi’s father might not answer the call,” warned Alex. “He had tried to resign this morning. That is when you attacked him.”
“Then let me put on a pair of slippers,” the king responded. “I will personally go to Alan right now and beg his forgiveness. He deserves as much.”
* * * *
General Somma’s command tent was slightly smaller than General Franz’s tent, but it was still large. Colonel Rotti searched it again, afraid that his superior officer’s body was curled up in one of the corners. The colonel was not anxious to broadcast his concern for the general, but he had run out of options. He stepped outside the tent and addressed the guards stationed there.
“Did you see General Somma leave this tent?” Colonel Rotti asked.
“No, Colonel,” answered one of the guards. “No one has entered or left the tent except you in the last two hours.”
Colonel Rotti nodded and walked away. He knew that the guards had been changed two hours ago, so further questioning would get him no additional information. He was tempted to wander around the camp again, but the encampment was huge. The general could be almost anywhere, and the colonel would not find him. Rotti was worried. After two days of riding alongside that huge lake, General Somma had appeared ashen, and Rotti was sure that the general was not sleeping well. Although he agreed with most that Somma was not fit to be a general, Rotti liked the man. He was just in over his head. He knew there was a story behind Somma’s ascension, but the colonel did not have the nerve to ask the general about it. Colonel Rotti sighed anxiously and kicked the dirt in frustration. A murmured complaint reached his ears, and the colonel looked and saw that he had kicked dirt at a sleeping soldier. He apologized and decided to move towards the camp’s perimeter.
As he approached the northern perimeter of the camp, one of the colonel’s men called to him. The moon was bright and the colonel recognized the man. He walked towards him.
“Anything going on out there?” asked the colonel.
“Not a thing stirring,” Colonel,” answered the perimeter guard, “but I am a bit concerned about the general.”
Colonel Rotti’s eyes widened. “Why are you concerned about the general?”
“He left the camp,” answered the guard, “and he has been gone for hours. I offered to provide him with a protective detail, but he refused. He should have been back a long time ago.”