“We have less than an hour, Lomar,” stated Adan. “Maybe less if they decide to send cavalry on ahead to hold the bridges. Will we be ready?”
“We are just about done,” answered Lomar. “I am having the boats brought forward now. What about your wagons?”
“They are ready,” assured the gypsy, “but I will not bring them into view until I get a surrender from General Pryblick. Keep the boats out of view as well. Perhaps you can hide them behind the barricade until we need them.”
“Done,” agreed Lomar. “Do you think they will attack us?”
“They would be fools to do so,” Adan answered after a moment’s thought, “but they just might. I intend to inform the general of his precarious position, but the Federation generals are pretty used to getting their own way. If it comes to a fight, I will pull in the gypsies meant to escort the wagons. That will add a thousand men to our side.”
“Thirteen-hundred against twenty-thousand,” sighed Lomar. “Those are long odds for us.”
“Not really,” smiled Adan. “They cannot line up twenty-thousand men on that small spit of land, but we can line up thirteen hundred behind this barricade. They cannot possibly win, and I intend to convince them of that.”
Lomar nodded and Adan walked away. The gypsy king moved away from the river to the staging area for the gypsy wagons that would be transporting the prisoners to the camps set up between Danver Shores and Melbin. Five-hundred gaily-painted gypsy wagons had been stripped inside to make room for the prisoners. The wagon drivers and the escorting warriors sat around in a makeshift camp doing what gypsies do best. They were trading stories and reciting tall tales, but there were no casks of ale this day. Adan had decreed that there would be no drinking until the victory celebration when all of the prisoners were in their prison camps. Adan stayed only long enough to inform Rax about the timing of the enemy’s approach and left it to her to spread the word. As he made his way back towards the river, Moth landed on his shoulder in a controlled crash.
“Riders are coming up quick,” reported the fairy. “There are thousands of them, and the general is among them.”
Adan nodded as he pondered the reason for the sudden change of pace. He half expected a squad to arrive early to secure the bridges, but thousands of riders indicated something entirely different. The only thing he could think of was that the Federation had thought of a way to get to Tagaret that Adan had not considered.
“I think they have had enough of the stinging flies and mosquitoes,” commented Moth. “They are especially bad this morning. The whole column is trying to swat the things and walk at the same time. It is rather funny to watch.”
Adan chuckled and picked up the pace. He hurried to the bridge area and waited for the enemy to arrive.
Only minutes away from the river, General Pryblick frowned as the vanguard slowed to a halt. He looked at Colonel Dukirk beside him and nodded towards the vanguard.
“Go see what the problem is,” demanded the general.
The colonel nodded and rode forward. When he reached the lead riders, he did not have to ask why they had stopped. He gazed at the fortifications on the other side of the river and swallowed hard. Seeing the lack of bridges across the river, Colonel Dukirk immediately knew that the Alceans had tricked them into the swamp. He shook his head with fear as he pondered how the general would take the news. With anxious resignation, the colonel turned his horse and rode back to the general.
“I think you need to go forward and see this for yourself,” the colonel reported cryptically. “My words would do the situation no justice.”
“Don’t play games with me, Colonel,” snapped General Pryblick. “I am not in the mood for it. Why have we stopped?”
“We have stopped, General,” answered the colonel, “because we cannot proceed. The bridges have vanished.”
“Nonsense,” spat the general as he guided his horse out of the column. “We will talk about this later, Dukirk, but you will not enjoy what I have to say.”
General Pryblick rode to the front of the column and gaped at the sight before him. At first he could not believe what he was seeing. The bridges were gone and the fortifications were new. They had not been there the day before when they had entered the swamp. He was sure of that. He gazed at the catapults aimed towards him and shook his head. Eventually, his eyes focused on the lone man standing at the far edge of the river. He frowned in confusion. The man wore no uniform. In fact, he was dressed garishly for a fighting man, yet there he stood, obviously waiting to speak to someone. General Pryblick rode forward and the column followed him. The general halted right at the edge of the river and stared at the man across from him.
“Welcome to Alcea, General Pryblick,” Adan called out in a friendly tone. “Shall we talk?”
“Who are you?” the general called back. “And what do we have to talk about?”
“I am called Adan,” answered the gypsy, “and I am authorized by King Arik of Alcea to accept your surrender. Now, we can shout across the river, or we can meet in the middle of it. Which would please you more?”
The gypsy signaled the men behind him, and a boat was dragged to the river’s edge. The general stared at the gypsy and considered his options. Wanting a closer look at the fortifications, he decided to accept the invitation.
“I do not care much for floating in boats,” shouted the general, “but if you will guarantee my safety and return me to this shore, I will meet with you where you stand.”
“Agreed,” shouted Adan as he waved for two men to row over and fetch the general.
While the boat was being rowed across the river, the general ordered one of his men to fetch Colonel Dukirk. The man left and returned with the colonel just as the boat reached the shore.
“You are coming with me, Colonel,” ordered the general. “You will see first hand what your foolish actions have brought to us.”
The two officers dismounted and entered the boat. The gypsy made no protest over the addition of the colonel. In fact, he smiled broadly. That smile worried the general more than anything else, and he began to wonder if he was being a fool for trusting the man to honor a truce. Of course, it was too late to alter the terms of the meeting as the boat was already under way. The general gritted his teeth and endured the ride. When they reached the shore, the two Federation officers walked up to Adan.
“This is Colonel Dukirk,” announced the general. “I didn’t think you would mind his coming.”
“Certainly not,” smiled Adan. “Hello again, Dukirk.”
The colonel’s face paled and the general gasped.
“You two have met before?”
“I met Adan in Danver Shores last fall,” admitted the colonel. “He claimed to be a smuggler who took goods through the swamp. That is why I felt confident that the road went through.”
“It used to years ago,” stated Adan, “but no longer. Your men are on an island in the swamp, General. Fortunately, King Arik is desirous of capturing your men rather than killing them. He has authorized me to accept your surrender and transport your men to camps where they will be fed and taken care of until the end of hostilities. Will you accept?”
General Pryblick looked around, examining the barricade and estimating the number of men manning it. He turned back to Adan with a scowl on his face.
“You can’t be serious. I see a couple of hundred men and nothing more. You expect me to surrender twenty-thousand fighting men to you? I will make you a counteroffer. Fix one of the bridges so my men can easily cross the river, and I will make you a very wealthy man. Perhaps I can arrange for you to rule over a portion of Alcea after it is conquered.”
“I already rule over what I wish to,” replied Adan, “and the Federation will never rule any of Alcea.”
“You are mistaken in that belief,” retorted the general, “but I will not belabor the point. The fact is that you are faced with overwhelming odds. You cannot expect a surrender, so you are just wasting time. There is nothing else to talk about.”