Demonkin (48 page)

“The sooner the better,” answered the gypsy princess, “but I can probably wait a few days if that is necessary, but no longer.”

“Let me see what I can do,” offered the colonel. “It may be possible for me to mix those records in with my own unit and then take them out of the building. If I can get them, you will only have a single night to peruse them. I would have to get them back before someone noticed them missing. Is that a problem?”

“That would be fine,” smiled Natia.

* * * *

The sun rose over the Sea of Tears, painting the buildings of Giza with an orange glow. General Forshire finished the morning meal in the common room of the Palace Keep and exited the inn for a morning walk through the city streets. He wandered aimlessly, but kept to the main streets of the city. Part of his mission was to be seen by others, but the walking also gave him some private time to think about things. As he was walking near the Temple of Balmak, a dozen black-cloaks exited the building. A cold shiver raced up his spine, but he kept his distaste hidden. He altered his course to take him away from the temple, fearing an encounter with K’san.

Several minutes later, the general was passing by one of the city garrisons. He halted as several dozen black-cloaks emerged from the garrison and headed towards the waterfront. Never had Clint seen so many Zaran mages at one time. His curiosity piqued, he followed the mages at a distance. As the black-cloaks walked the city streets, more of them flowed out of side streets and joined the group from the garrison. The mob of black-cloaks continued to swell, and Clint fell back a bit to avoid getting too close to them. Eventually, the mages reached the waterfront, and they turned towards the shipyards. Not wanting to enter the shipyards, Clint halted on the wharf and pretended to watch the sunrise as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“It is a sight to behold, isn’t it?” a feminine voice said softly.

“I have always enjoyed sunrises,” Clint replied as he turned and saw Natia standing alongside him.

“Me, too,” the gypsy princess smiled, “but that was not what I was talking about.”

Clint glanced at the shipyards. The gates were now closed and the mages had been swallowed up by the fence surrounding the shipyards. “You saw them?”

“From a distance,” Natia answered quietly. “What is going on?”

“I have no idea,” admitted the general. “I was just out for a walk when I saw them converging on the waterfront. I followed them to see what was going on.”

“There were scores of them,” frowned Natia. “I do not feel comfortable in a city with that many of them.”

“I estimate around one hundred,” retorted Clint, “and no one should feel comfortable near so many of them. Whatever is happening, it is significant.”

For several minutes, the two Alceans stood silently, staring out at the sea.

“Peanut should be back soon,” mused the Ranger.

“I would not send a fairy to spy on them,” cautioned Natia. “With that many mages, who knows what they might be looking for. It would be too risky.”

Clint nodded silently in agreement. Natia glanced around and saw a tavern with outside tables. She tugged on Clint’s sleeve and nodded to it.

“I have already eaten,” Clint said, “but the view should be as good as any when they come out.”

The two Alceans walked to the tavern and sat down at one of the outside tables. A young woman appeared immediately and rattled off the menu. Clint ordered a couple of ales and the woman went inside and returned promptly with two mugs. The Alceans quietly sipped their ale as they waited for the black-cloaks to emerge from the shipyards. An hour passed without the gates opening, and Natia began to feel exposed sitting with a Federation general.

“I should leave,” the gypsy princess said softly. “While it might be all right to be seen with you by Federation officers, the thieves are sure to notice me if I dally here much longer. They might ask too many questions about my lingering with a general.”

“I don’t suppose the thieves in Giza are much different than the ones in Despair,” retorted Clint. “I am sure that your sitting with me has already been noted, but feel free to go. I will let you know what I have discovered when your fairy arrives from the island.”

Just then, a loud series of noises emanated from the shipyards. Shouts rang through the air with an excited pitch. The Alceans looked expectantly at the gates to the shipyard, but nothing happened. Natia glanced seaward and her eyes widened in understanding. She nudged Clint, and he turned to see a massive ship bobbing in the water. Men scrambled across the deck of the huge ship as they worked to raise gigantic sails.

“I do not think the black-cloaks will be leaving the shipyards through the gates,” Natia said in awe.

Clint frowned in confusion. His eyes swept the deck of the large ship, but the men onboard were not mages; they were seamen. “What are you saying?”

“I learned earlier that that ship has about one hundred small cabins below deck,” answered Natia. “I am pretty sure that the black-cloaks are onboard.”

“For what purpose?” asked the general.

“I don’t know,” admitted Natia.

* * * *

Captain Kent sat before Captain Takir’s desk in the garrison in Olansk. They sat quietly, waiting for the sergeant to return. When Sergeant Lamar did return, he closed the door and crossed the room to the desk before speaking.

“Both of them are dead,” the sergeant reported quietly.

“Dead?” scowled Captain Kent. “Couldn’t you have taken at least one of them alive?”

The sergeant glared at Captain Kent, and his lips curled as if he were about to snap a nasty reply at the captain from Despair. Captain Takir sighed heavily and the sergeant glanced at him.

“What happened?” Captain Takir asked calmly.

“They refused to surrender,” answered the sergeant. “It was as if their only choices were fleeing or dying. They feared capture more than they feared death.”

“Were they wealthy?” asked Captain Takir.

“Hardly,” replied the sergeant. “A few coins, but hardly worth the bother of divvying up.”

A thin smile crossed the lips of Captain Takir. He knew how his men tried to keep whatever they found to themselves, and he hardly discouraged it as long as those doing the taking were loyal to him. “So they weren’t paid assassins.”

Captain Kent sighed with relief. “You mean I have been hiding in this garrison for nothing?”

“That isn’t what Captain Takir said,” scowled the sergeant. “They were surely assassins, and I can’t think of anyone they might want to kill other than you. Someone wants you dead rather badly, but these men were not paid to do the job. Something else is driving them.”

“I don’t understand,” frowned Captain Kent. “What are you trying to say?”

“Paid assassins would surrender once they were caught,” explained Captain Takir, “but these men preferred death to surrender. Whoever sent them is someone they fear greatly. I think it is time that you tell us why these killers keep coming to Olansk.”

“I have no idea,” replied Captain Kent.

“You are lying to me,” declared Captain Takir. “I think you know exactly why you were sent here, and you know who is trying to kill you. Either you share that information with me, or Sergeant Lamar and his men will not bother with the next group of assassins to come to town.”

“I know nothing,” Captain Kent replied adamantly, but his shaking hands betrayed his fear.

The captain from Despair rose to his feet and stormed out of the office, slamming the door on his way out.

“He is as afraid as the assassins,” Sergeant Lamar commented.

“If not more,” agreed Captain Takir.

“What do we do?” asked the sergeant. “Should I stop looking for strangers in town?”

“No,” sighed Captain Takir. “Keep an eye out for more assassins.”

“Why?” frowned the sergeant. “Why not just let him die?”

“I probably should,” replied the captain, “but I am curious.”

“Curious or greedy?” chuckled the sergeant. “You are thinking that someone wants Kent really bad, and that means that they might pay handsomely to get their hands on him. Am I wrong?”

“That is a thought,” conceded the captain, “but would you bargain with someone who can instill such fear in others? Why would this mysterious person keep his bargain with me? Why wouldn’t he just have me killed once Kent is dead?”

Sergeant Lamar pressed his lips together in thought as he stared at the floor. Eventually he shrugged in defeat. “Alright, but why keep him alive then? The killer will keep sending more assassins until Kent is dead, and Kent will never talk, so we are just delaying the inevitable. I say we let him die.”

“I think Captain Kent is in denial,” answered Captain Takir. “Sooner or later he will tell me what I want to know. Besides, what other excitement is there in Olansk?”

* * * *

Captain Kent paced the floor of Captain Takir’s office as they waited for Sergeant Lamar to return. It had only been three days since the last assassins were killed, and already another pair had shown up. Captain Kent began to think about tearing off his uniform and running away from Olansk. Each attempt on his life made the captain more confident that Despair would never stop trying to kill him.

“It’s never going to stop,” Captain Takir stated as if reading Kent’s mind. “You might as well tell me what kind of trouble you are in. Maybe I can find a way out of it for you.”

“There is nothing to tell,” Captain Kent replied stubbornly just as the door opened and Sergeant Lamar stepped into the room.

“Dead,” the sergeant said apologetically. “One of my men even tried to tackle one of them, but the assassin leaped off the roof to his death.”

Captain Kent sighed with relief and slumped into a chair.

“There is also a column of soldiers approaching the city,” reported the sergeant. “It is led by a colonel.”

“A colonel?” frowned Captain Takir. “How big of a column?”

“Only two squads,” answered the sergeant. “They are probably just passing through.”

“Are they from Giza or Despair?” Captain Kent asked anxiously as he rose to his feet.

“What does it matter?” Captain Takir asked as he made eye contact with the sergeant. “What are you hiding, Kent?”

“Nothing,” Captain Kent spat as he turned and fled the room.

“What was that about?” asked the sergeant.

“The assassins have failed,” mused Captain Takir. “Evidently, Kent thinks the next step is an assault on the garrison to kill him.”

“The man is mad,” scowled the sergeant. “Two squads could never prevail over the garrison.”

“Perhaps,” shrugged the captain, “but I want him kept in this building. He has the look of someone running scared, and I suspect he might try to flee. See that he stays put, and warn the men that we might have an inspection.”

The sergeant left the room, and Captain Takir began to dwell on the puzzle of Kent’s behavior. A few moments later, the room outside the office erupted in shouts and the sounds of a struggle passed through the door. Captain Takir strode to the door and opened it. He looked into the large room and saw Sergeant Lamar holding Captain Kent in a bear hug. The captain was struggling, but the sergeant had a firm grip and was not letting go. On the floor near the men was a travel pack, and Captain Takir nodded knowingly.

“Put him in a cell,” ordered Captain Takir.

“No!” screamed Captain Kent. “You must let me go.”

“I may only be a captain,” retorted Captain Takir, “but I am the Commanding Officer of Olansk. I will not let a colonel take you from my protection, and my men will rebuff any attack on the garrison, but you are going to stay in that cell until you level with me.”

“Let me go,” shouted Captain Kent.

Captain Takir merely looked at the sergeant and nodded towards the cells. The sergeant lifted the captain off his feet and carried him down the hallway. He returned a moment later.

“You really going to stand up to a colonel?” asked the sergeant.

“We will see,” shrugged the captain. “I doubt the colonel is even stopping in Olansk, but if he is looking for Kent, I will not give him up. Something stinks about Kent, and I want to know what it is.”

“The colonel can bust you,” warned the sergeant.

“He can,” agreed the captain, “but I will still command this garrison. It will take an order from Grand General Kyrga to have me stripped of command. If the colonel does bust me, I will appeal to Despair to have that action overruled. Besides, once I make it known that I will fight any actions against me for doing my job, I doubt that anyone will mess with me unless I do something really stupid.”

“You are almost as crazy as Kent,” laughed the sergeant.

“I just have to be careful not to break any rules while the colonel is here,” replied the captain. “I can do that.”

The column of soldiers halted in front of the garrison in Olansk. The soldiers dismounted, and the colonel led one squad into the building while the others remained with the horses. When the colonel stepped inside, he saw a score of soldiers equipped for battle. A captain and a sergeant stood before the men, and everyone saluted as the colonel crossed the threshold.

“Welcome to Olansk, Colonel,” Captain Takir said. “I am Captain Takir. Is there something we can help you with?”

“There is,” the colonel replied. “We can talk in your office.”

“Right this way,” the captain said pleasantly as he waved towards his office.

“Nobody enters or leaves the garrison,” the colonel said to his men.

“Excuse me, Colonel,” Captain Takir said with a frown, “but my men have duties to attend to. They need free access in and out of the building.”

“Nobody leaves or enters,” the colonel replied stubbornly. “Your office, Captain?”

Captain Takir hesitated. It was obvious that the colonel was making a show of his authority. The captain knew that he had little leeway in arguing the point, and he eventually decided that it was not the right time to resist. Besides, he wanted to find out what the colonel wanted from him, so he nodded and walked into his office. The colonel followed him and closed the door.

“I will be brief,” said the colonel. “You have had a recent transfer from Despair, and I need to talk to him. His name is Captain Kent.”