Demonkin (8 page)

“Nothing at all,” replied the guard. “I suspect that they plan to take the women with them. Can we do anything to stop it?”

“I am open to suggestions,” sighed the king. “With three mages and a hundred soldiers, I do not think we would fare well in a battle with them, and even if we did win, we would be jeopardizing everything we have been planning for. The Dielderal would be annihilated within a week.”

“That is the feeling of the others as well,” stated the guard. “There is much frustration among the people over this. We feel so helpless.”

“Maybe I can talk them out of whatever it is they are planning,” the king said as he rose to his feet.

“You would be well advised to remain clear of them,” warned the guard. “They are not in a hospitable mood.”

“Neither am I,” scowled the king, “and I cannot stand by while they abduct our women.”

“Then we will stand alongside you,” declared the guard as he started to follow the king.

King Elengal stopped and turned to face the guard. “No. I will not give them the chance to slaughter us all. I alone will face them, and I will try to do so in a non-confrontational way, but no matter what happens, no one else is to argue with them. See that everyone else stays out of it.”

“As you wish,” the guard replied resignedly.

King Elengal turned and strode out of the building. He walked to the historian's hut and found that K'san had taken it over as his own. He walked in without knocking and K'san looked up with irritation on his face.

“I understand that you are gathering women from their homes,” King Elengal said. “That is not called for under our agreement with the emperor.”

“Then the agreement has changed,” growled K'san. “Get out of here and leave us alone.”

“The emperor has also promised that our archives would be respected as sacred to our people,” the king continued. “I do intend to lodge a protest with the emperor over this.”

King Elengal was not sure if it was his imagination or not, but he thought he detected a flicker of fear in K'san's eyes. K'san rose from his seat and glowered at the king. King Elengal decided to press further.

“I ask you again,” the king asked authoritatively, “for what purpose are you taking elven women from their homes?”

K'san's arm rose quickly. The king's eyes widened in horror as a ball of fire shot from K'san's fingertips. The fireball struck the king's chest, and his body was thrown out the doorway from the force of the impact. The king landed on his back and slid a few feet before stopping. The king opened his mouth to scream in pain, but nothing came forth. Instead, his whole world was deadly silent. During that brief moment, the king heard K'san's voice clearly as the priest spoke to one of the black-cloaks.

“Forget the Eulena woman. Choose the next one on the list. It is time to go.”

Then the king's scream ushered forth from his lips. Elves ran forward to put out the flames burning on the king's chest, and as the pain struck home, darkness overcame his mind.

The young couple crawled quietly to the edge of the ridge and peered down at the Calusa Road. The woman grabbed her long, brown hair and forced it down the back of her tunic so that it didn’t fall across her eyes as she gazed at the group of travelers below. The man turned his head as he detected the motion beside him. He glanced at the woman for only a moment, but her eyes instantly glared back at him.

“You should tie it,” Lymm remarked softly.

“When your hair gets longer than a knuckle,” taunted the Rhodan, “then I might be interested in your advice.” Lymm sighed and shook his head. Chimene turned her gaze back to the road and the group of travelers below. “What do you find so interesting with this group? They do not appear to be a threat.”

Lymm hesitated before answering. He subconsciously ran his hand through his short, black hair as the Rhodan’s taunt still echoed in his mind. “Do you see nothing unusual about the group?” he eventually asked.

“I see four men and a woman,” answered Chimene. “They are not heavily armed, and they do not appear to have taken any particular care in choosing their campsite. They obviously are not concerned with being attacked, and they do not appear to be capable of attacking anyone. They are just travelers. What did you see that caused us to leave our horses behind and crawl up here?”

Lymm stared once again at the small group having their morning meal around the campfire alongside the Calusa Road. “The group appears to have spent the night alongside the road,” Lymm stated. “That alone causes me concern.”

“There are no inns along this section of the road,” frowned Chimene. “Where else would you expect them to sleep?”

“It is not so much that they slept where they did,” explained Lymm, “but rather that they were able to do so without us knowing about it. There were no reports of these travelers approaching this area yesterday, and there was no report of a campfire last night. Boric gets regular reports of everyone coming and going along the Calusa Road. This group has never been mentioned before.”

“Are you sure?” asked the Rhodan.

“I am sure.” Lymm nodded. “First off, they are not lightly armed; they are unarmed. I do not see a single weapon among them. That alone makes me suspicious. Boric has worked hard to let everyone know that the bandits own this road. To travel along it without protection speaks of carelessness.”

“Maybe they do not fear bandits because they have nothing to steal.”

“Look again,” instructed Lymm. “Those horses are Occans. Each of them is worth a fortune, and they even have spares with them. There is something strange about this group, but I cannot tell what it is. Still, I must report them to Boric. You stay and watch them.”

Chimene stared at the group as Lymm backed away from the edge of the ridge. She saw one of the men rise, say something to the others and then walk into the woods. She hurriedly slid backwards and raced to the horses to catch Lymm before he road away.

“We are not supposed to separate,” she said to her partner. “If you return to camp, I must go with you.”

“Are you afraid to stay in the woods alone?” taunted Lymm.

“Would you care to try your sword against me?” Chimene scowled in return. “I am not afraid of you or anyone else. Yortana told us to stay together, and I know how to follow orders.”

“Then what is the purpose of both of us being out here?” snapped Lymm. “We are just wasting resources. We have done nothing that couldn’t have been done by just one of us.”

“I will not argue your point,” frowned Chimene. “I can only assume that we are meant to learn to work together. In that light, the orders make little sense, but I will follow the orders given to me.”

“Then we shall ride together,” sighed Lymm. “I only hope the strangers aren’t gone by the time we get back from camp.”

The pair rode quietly for a while before urging their horses into a gallop. Within a half hour, they arrived at the secret canyon and gave the password of the day. Karaminian patriots and Rhodan warriors alike watched their progress along the canyon floor as they rode towards the dead end. They dismounted and moved swiftly up to the cave where Boric and Yortana resided. When they entered the cave, the two leaders were talking to Max Caber. Chimene let Lymm make the report. She remained silent and watched Yortana’s face for any sign of her feelings about the group. Chimene was curious to know if her leader would find anything strange about the travelers, but it was the Alcean who seemed to have the greatest interest.

“Are you sure they were Occans?” asked Max. “Have you seen many Occans before?”

“I haven’t seen many,” admitted Lymm, “and those that I have seen were from a distance, but there is no mistaking an Occan for another horse. Is it important?”

“It might be,” Max replied distractedly. “I think I might go and have a look for myself. Where exactly were these travelers?”

“Due west,” answered Lymm. “They could not have camped any closer to us and still been on the Calusa Road.”

“You two have done well,” nodded Max. “Rest your horses a bit before heading back out. I will tend to our travelers.”

Max did not wait for any protests over his course of action. He strode quickly out of the cave and down into the canyon. While he did not wish to say anything to the others, he suspected that some of the Alceans were nearby and didn’t want to announce their presence to the locals. He mounted his unicorn and rode swiftly out of the canyon. As soon as he was out of sight of the secret canyon, he halted and stuck his finger into his breast pocket.

Runt immediately popped his head out and looked around. Seeing no one around, the fairy shot to Max’s shoulder. “It’s about time you let me get out and exercise. What is the mission?”

“There is a group of travelers due west of here,” explained the Ranger. “I suspect they are some of our people on unicorns, but I want to know for sure before I get there. Go on ahead and scout them out.”

“I will spy on them and return swiftly,” vowed the little man as he shot into the sky.

Max chuckled softly and shook his head in delight. He always enjoyed the exuberance of the little people.

“They are fascinating creatures, aren’t they?”

Max whirled around to face the speaker. His eyes grew large as he stared at Fakir Aziz. “What are you doing here?”

“Here, as in Karamin?” chuckled Fakir, “or here, as in the woods outside your secret canyon?”

Max dismounted and turned to face the historian. “Is there a different answer for each of those questions?” the Ranger asked in confusion.

“Very much so,” smiled Fakir. “Why I am in Karamin is of no consequence to you or the people you are with.”

“So you say,” frowned Max, “but everything that happens in Karamin is our concern. And how do you know about our canyon? I doubt that you could have ever been there.”

“Actually,” smiled Fakir Aziz, “I was there last night. You have your hands full trying to join those two forces together. May I make a suggestion?”

“I may not know who you are,” sighed Max, “but I know you well enough to know that my answer to your question will have no effect on your actions. You are going to give me your thoughts whether I want them or not.”

“I do not always behave in such a manner,” replied Fakir, “but in this case you are correct. The Rhodans are not used to being in the company of men, and the Karaminians are treating the Rhodans as women and not warriors. If you can get the men to treat the Rhodans as fellow warriors instead of as women, relations between the two groups will quickly improve.”

“But the Rhodans are women,” retorted the Ranger, “and fairly good looking women at that. You cannot expect a man not to be mindful of that.”

“I understand,” smiled Fakir. “If the men can forget that they are women for a short while, respect will grow between the groups. They will begin to learn from one another. I am not saying that romance can be avoided, or should be for that matter. In fact, I can almost assure you that many romances will blossom out of this venture, but that cannot come to pass until the men first put gender out of their minds. The Rhodans need to be respected for their skills before they can move further along in this venture. Their mindset is one that has been cultivated over a long period of time. It cannot be easily brushed aside.”

Max nodded in silence for a moment. “I think I can see what you are saying. I will make it happen.” Fakir made no effort to reply, and Max started fidgeting. His feelings towards Fakir were mixed. He somehow knew that the old man posed no threat to him, but he was wary of the secret ways in which Fakir maneuvered. There was something about the old man that bothered Max.

“Ask,” commanded the historian.

Max blinked at the command. He looked into the old man’s eyes and frowned. “I don’t know where to begin.”

Fakir Aziz chuckled softly. “I put spells on your blade,” he explained compassionately. “One of them was a tracking spell that allowed me to find you whenever I wanted to. That is how I found your secret canyon last night. While I did spend some time observing your people, there was not a good opportunity for me to speak with you, so I didn’t. When your people spotted my group this morning, I knew that you would feel the urge to investigate. I merely waited until you paused to release the fairy.”

“Alright,” Max nodded. “But why would you want to talk to me anyways? I am nothing special.”

“I disagree,” smiled Fakir. “You are an extremely capable man, Max Caber. You understand some things in ways that no one else can envision. Your gift is in the way you can visualize something that does not yet exist, and you have the mechanical skills to create the object that you imagine. While it is not magical, your gift is a rare blessing indeed. That you always use that gift to make life better for others is a testament to your character. You are quite a special man after all, Max Caber, but death may await you in Calusa. Your desire to right the wrongs of others will call on you to do things that you might not survive. Are you prepared for such a final sacrifice?”

Max’s eyes narrowed in thought. He knew that Kalina thought that Fakir might be the Mage, but the Ranger had little appreciation for what that really meant. Magic had never been a part of his life, and he knew little about it, but he had no doubt that Fakir was not talking about idle probabilities. Somehow, the old man was telling him that he would die during the coming confrontation. Was it to scare him away? If so, why?

“Does death frighten you?” asked Fakir.

“Death is inevitable.” Max shook his head. “While I do not seek to hasten its arrival, neither will I hide from life to forestall it. My life is pledged to Alcea, and that means that I must fight in Calusa. I can not walk away from the coming battle.”

“I expected those very words.” Fakir nodded with satisfaction as he handed a bundle of cloth to the Ranger.

Max took the dark cloth with a questioning glance at the old man.

“It is a gift from me,” smiled Fakir Aziz. “Perhaps you will find a use for it in Calusa.”

The historian turned to walk into the trees, but Max’s voice halted him.

“What was the second spell for?”