Chapter 1

The demonkin was tall and handsome, his piercing blue eyes peeking out from beneath his short golden bangs. His skin was bronzed as if he spent his days under the sun tending to fields. His muscles bulged with impressive strength as he shed his fine garments and threw them into the massive fireplace. Feeling eyes upon him, Lycindor turned and saw the noble holding a pile of clothes staring at him. The demonkin's lips curled upward in a menacing smile. If Lycindor had expected the human to tremble in fear, he was disappointed. The noble stared without emotion and then closed the door.

"You are very different from what I expected," the noble stated as he crossed the room and handed a pile of clothes to the demonkin. "Your appearance is as far from K'san as anyone can be."

"I am not K'san," the demonkin replied contemptuously. "I am a Claw of Alutar."

"A Claw of Alutar?" the noble echoed with a raised eyebrow. "And what does a Claw of Alutar do?"

"The Claws of Alutar are no concern of yours," scowled Lycindor as he pulled on a pair of clean, but worn pants. "Your concern is to see that I have what is needed for my journey."

The noble watched as the demonkin pulled on a gray tunic that matched his lowly pants. When Lycindor was done, the noble retrieved a few items from a dresser and handed them to the demonkin. Lycindor wrapped the belt around his waist and fastened it. Adjusting the sheath to his side, he slid a large hunting knife into it.

"There is a pack hanging from the mantle," pointed the noble. "It contains everything you should need for a short journey. Check it, and I will supply whatever you feel is missing."

Lycindor retrieved the pack and inspected it carelessly. He slung it onto his back and lifted a pair of boots off of the mantle. The boots were well worn, and the leather was deeply cracked in places.

"I was told that your clothing was to be clean, but also to hold the appearance of belonging to one who has traveled long and hard. I hope everything meets with your approval."

"It is satisfactory. Where is the portal?"

"In the closet. Get your boots on and I will show you."

Lycindor sat in a chair and pulled his boots on. He glanced up at the noble and waved dismissively. "I have everything I need. You may go."

"I am not yours to dismiss," scowled the noble. "I am the Chosen One of Alutar, and you will treat me with respect."

Lycindor rose, the muscles under his tunic rippling the worn fabric. His piercing blue eyes bore into the noble's eyes as he moved slowly towards his host, but the noble unflinchingly stood his ground. The demonkin halted with his face mere inches from the noble's.

"You may be the Chosen One," the demonkin said, his voice as soft as a whisper yet as firm as death itself, "but I am a Claw of Alutar. My purpose is none of your concern."

"Perhaps not," retorted the noble, "but this is my home, and I will not be ordered around within it. I will remain here until you have passed through to the other side."

Lycindor remained in the noble's face a few moments longer and then suddenly turned away as if some distant thought had demanded his attention. He strode to the closet, opened the door, and stepped into it. On the opposite wall of the closet was another door, much finer than the first. The hidden Door was finely crafted from expensive teakwood. While it would not have seemed out of place within the mansion he was leaving, Lycindor knew that the same could not be said on the other side. The demonkin opened the Door and stepped into Alcea.

The Claw of Alutar closed the Door and stood in the darkness for a moment to get his bearings. He moved aside a curtain hung to hide the impressive teak door. When he had repositioned the curtain once more, he halted again and listened to the night sounds. The hunter's cabin was so small that the demonkin could almost feel the walls surrounding him. He strode silently to the front door of the cabin and stepped outside.

The old hunter's cabin was situated in the forest five leagues northeast of Southland in the Targa Province of Alcea. It was far from any of the roads leading out of Southland, which made it an ideal place for a hidden Door.

Lycindor inhaled deeply, letting the crisp night air invigorate his body. After a few moments of listening to the forest sounds, the demonkin turned to the east and strode into the forest. He walked on through the night, and when the first signs of dawn arrived, he caught his first glimpse of the Tagaret-Southland Road below him. He moved down the hill towards the road, but he halted before exposing himself. Again he stood silently and listened. The sounds of distant horses caught his attention, and the demonkin paralleled the road, keeping to the trees for concealment. Minutes later, a squad of Alcean soldiers rode by heading for Southland. When they were out of sight, Lycindor took to the road and continued eastward.

There was not much traffic on the Tagaret-Southland Road, and those few people who did pass paid little attention to the lone traveler. It was well past high sun when the demonkin saw a farmhouse atop a small hill alongside the road. Lycindor left the road and strode up the hill. A young man and a young woman were toiling in the field near the barn while two young girls played with a dog near the farmhouse. All of them watched curiously as the stranger approached. When it became apparent that the stranger was heading for the farm, the young man straightened and walked out of the field to meet him. Lycindor smiled broadly.

"Hello," Lycindor called as the young farmer drew near. "I am on my way to Tagaret, but I could use a few days of rest. Can you accommodate me?"

The demonkin held out his hand in a friendly greeting. The farmer hesitated only a moment before greeting the newcomer with his own hand.

"Lloyd Becker," stated the farmer. "It is a long walk to Tagaret, but I suppose you already know that."

Lycindor smiled and nodded. "I couldn't afford a horse, so a long walk will have to do. I am called Lycindor."

"Well met, Lycindor. As for putting you up, I'm afraid that we don't have the space to house you."

"The barn will do well enough for the likes of me," smiled the demonkin, "and I don't expect you to feed me out of charity. I can see your woman toiling in the field by your side. I am more than willing to give you a couple of days of labor for a roof over my head and a few simple meals."

Lloyd hesitated while he tried to take measure of the stranger.

"I'm a hard worker," offered Lycindor.

"We could get the back field plowed, Lloyd," suggested the woman as she stepped alongside the farmer. "Goodness knows we will be hard pressed to do it ourselves."

"I can handle a plow," smiled Lycindor.

"Why are you heading for Tagaret?" Lloyd asked.

"I want to join the army," answered the demonkin.

"There is a garrison in Southland," frowned the farmer. "It's a lot closer than Tagaret."

"I was there," lied the demonkin, "but they said that I had to go to Tagaret. That is the only place where the Red Swords are recruiting."

"The Red Swords?" balked the farmer. "You can't just walk into Tagaret and join the Red Swords. They are the King's Own. Only the best of the army is offered an invitation to join them."

"So I heard," smiled Lycindor. "I fought alongside Red Swords in the Great War. Some of them told me that if I ever wanted to join, they would sponsor me. That is why I am bound for Tagaret."

"You must be a great warrior then," the farmer said in awe as he reappraised the stranger. "Come along and I will get you set up with the plow."

"My name is Sophia," offered the woman as the two men started walking away.

Lycindor looked back at the woman and smiled warmly. Lloyd led the demonkin to the barn and proceeded to get his lone horse hitched to the plow.

"I envy you," Lloyd said as they worked together to ready the plow. "My father said I was too young to fight in the Great War. By the time I was old enough, it was all over. What battles did you fight in?"

"The Battle of Tagaret. I probably should have joined the Red Swords right then, but I was younger and wanted to see the world first."

"You hardly look older than me," commented the farmer. "You must have started training early."

"I have been told that I possess a natural talent for killing," smiled the demonkin. "I saw a squad of soldiers on the road earlier today. Do they often patrol this area?"

"They don't really patrol here at all," answered Lloyd, "but soldiers come by every week on their way to or from Southland. The squad you saw this morning will be coming back up the road in a couple of days. If I had a spare horse, you could ride to Tagaret with them."

"Maybe I will get lucky," the demonkin responded. "Perhaps they will have an extra mount with them."

"I doubt it," replied the farmer. "I have never seen them ride by with an unmounted horse."

Sophia Becker sat up in bed and felt the empty space next to her where her husband should be. She turned and glanced around the room as the distant hammering reached her ears. When her eyes fell on Lloyd standing in the moonlight coming through the window, her brow creased.

"Why are you up?" she asked softly.

"Lycindor is chopping wood again," Lloyd answered.

"He does that every night. That is no reason for you to leave our bed. Is something bothering you?"

Lloyd did not answer.

"Lloyd," Sophia pleaded softly, "come back to bed. You worry too much. You will not be worth anything in the morning without some sleep."

"And when does he sleep?" Lloyd asked suspiciously. "He works all day and chops wood all night. When does he sleep?"

"I don't know," sighed Sophia. "Lloyd, you should be glad that he sleeps very little. He has the back field already sowed, and we have enough firewood to last through next winter. Be happy that he happened along."

"I should be," admitted Lloyd, "but something about him troubles me. Maybe it is the way he looks at us."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you never noticed his eyes? He has the look of a fox staring at a henhouse."

"So his eyes are strange. So what? I don't care how he looks at us as long as he keeps working the way he has. We will have a bountiful harvest this year."

Lloyd was quiet for a while as he stared out the window and watched Lycindor chopping wood. When he spoke it was barely a whisper.

"I suppose his unnatural gaze doesn't bother me too much until he looks at you and the girls. A shiver races through my body when I see him eyeing you up."

"Well, there is nothing we can do about it."

"Actually," Lloyd said as he turned away from the window and pulled his pants on, "there is something that I can do. I am going to ask him to leave."

"We can use the extra help, Lloyd."

"I know, but this farm doesn't mean anything to me if it brings harm to you and the girls. I want him out of here in the morning. I am going to speak with him now. Go back to sleep. I may be a while."

Sophia sighed and nodded. She knew that no one could change Lloyd's mind once he made it up. She watched her husband leave the room and then put her head back on the pillow.

Lloyd went downstairs and exited the small farmhouse, gazing up at the full moon as he rounded the corner of the house. Lycindor must have heard him coming because he had leaned the axe against the barn and stood waiting for the farmer.

"Was I making too much noise?" Lycindor asked.

"Do you ever sleep?"

"A couple of hours is good enough for me. If the noise is bothering you, I will find something else to do."

"You have already chopped enough wood to last the year."

Lycindor nodded silently. Lloyd frowned at the thought of asking the man to leave the farm, but he could not shake the uncomfortable feeling of having him around his family.

"Have you thought about continuing your journey to Tagaret?" the farmer asked.

"I have." Lycindor cocked his head and stared at the farmer. With a glance up at the farmer's bedroom window, the demonkin decided that it was time to move on. "In fact, I will be leaving in the morning, but before I go, there is something in the barn I want to show you. It is rather exciting."

Without waiting for a response, the demonkin turned and strode into the barn. The farmer followed, wondering what could possibly be exciting in the barn. When he stepped into the darkness, Lycindor turned and placed a hand on the farmer's head. Lloyd tried to reach up and remove the hand, but his body refused to cooperate. His mind began to swim, and his vision soon turned to blackness.

Lycindor reached out with his free hand and supported the farmer's sagging body while he pulled the memories from Lloyd's mind. When he was done, the demonkin snapped the farmer's neck and lifted his body off the ground. He moved to the barn door and glanced up at the window. No one was looking out. He carried the farmer's body to the front door of the farmhouse and opened the door. Inside the house, the demonkin put the farmer's body on the floor. He climbed the steps silently and slowly opened the door to the farmer's bedroom.

"What did he say, Lloyd?" Sophia asked without rolling over.

Lycindor's lips curled upward in a wicked smile as he raised his arm and sent a fireball streaming into Sophia's back. The woman screamed loudly, but the screams died quickly. Lycindor turned and headed for the girls' room. When he touched the door, the dog started growling. As soon as the demonkin opened the door enough to enter the room, the dog leaped at him. Lycindor grabbed the dog by the throat and threw him into the wall. With an anguished yelp, the dog's body fell to the floor. The demonkin glanced at the bed the two girls slept in. Neither of the children was stirring. Without a thought, the demonkin tossed a fireball at the bed. The bed burst into flames without a whimper from the girls. The curtains caught fire and smoke started to gather at the ceiling. The demonkin turned and walked away.

When the demonkin reached the ground floor, he turned slowly and sent fireballs flying in every direction. Within minutes the farmhouse was a flaming inferno, and it started to collapse. Lycindor stood and watched the flames devour the structure. A burning beam fell from above and struck the demonkin, but he brushed it aside. With his clothes on fire, Lycindor walked out of the burning farmhouse and then extinguished the flames eating his clothing. He walked away from the house and then sat on a stump and watched the fire consume the farmhouse. When dawn arrived, the house was nothing more than a charred pile of rubble, although smoke still drifted lazily upward.

The soldiers arrived less than an hour after dawn. They left the road and came up the hill to see if they could help, but they soon realized that there was nothing for them to do.

"What happened here?" the sergeant asked Lycindor.

Lycindor did not respond. He merely sat on the stump, staring at the destroyed building, his face a mask of hopelessness.

"I think he is in shock," one of the soldiers whispered to the sergeant.

The sergeant nodded in agreement and placed his hand firmly on Lycindor's shoulder. "Snap out of it, lad. Tell us what happened."

"They are all dead," Lycindor said so softly that only the sergeant heard him. "Gone. I should be dead, too."

The demonkin hung his head down and stared at the ground before his feet. The sergeant frowned with concern and placed both hands on the man's shoulders. He shook him vigorously until Lycindor raised his head and looked the sergeant in the eye. Streams of tears flooded down the demonkin's cheeks and he sniffed loudly.

"I don't know how it started," blubbered the demonkin. "I was in the barn trying to get an early start on the day. By the time I realized something was wrong, it was already too late. I tried to go inside anyway and save my family, but the fire had already devoured the stairs. My whole life has gone up in flames."

Lycindor started bawling, and the sergeant turned to the soldier nearest him. "Get this man something to eat and drink and then find some clothes that will fit him."

The soldier ran off and the sergeant examined the farmer from a distance. The farmer's hair was singed, and his clothes were badly burned, but there didn't appear to be any life-threatening wounds.

"Who was inside?" he asked softly.

"Sophia and my two little girls," Lycindor answered shakily. "I can't believe that they are gone."

"No one survived that blaze," the sergeant said sympathetically. "What is your name?"

"Lloyd Becker," answered the demonkin.

"Well, Lloyd," the sergeant replied compassionately, "we will take you back to Southland with us. Maybe you can find some people there to help you rebuild the house. Are you known in Southland?"

Lloyd wiped his eyes and looked up at the sergeant. Slowly he nodded. "There are people who know me in Southland, but I have no desire to go there."

"You can't just stay here alone," cautioned the sergeant. "Being alone here will eat you up from the inside out. Let us take you back to Southland."

"You misunderstand me, Sergeant. There is nothing left for me here. I will never repair this house, and I will never again work these fields. Without Sophia and the girls in my life, I want to get as far away from here as possible, and that does not mean going to Southland. If anything, I want to get away from this whole area of the country. Where are you heading?"

"We are going to Tagaret," frowned the sergeant, "but we have no spare mounts to carry you."

"I have an old nag in the barn. She is not a proper cavalry horse, but she will carry me."

"And what will you do in Tagaret?" the sergeant asked with a disapproving tone. "You cannot just throw your life away over this."

"I will start a new life," Lloyd said with confidence. "I have heard rumors that war is coming once again to Alcea. Perhaps your men can teach me about soldiering along the way. At least that way my life will have some meaning."

"Did you serve in the last war?"

"No. My family thought I was too young, but I am strong, and I am an excellent shot with a bow. Surely, the king must be looking for recruits?"

"Aye," sighed the sergeant. "We are always looking for good men, but I advise you to think long and hard on this. A soldier's life is not for everyone."

"I know you are trying to stop me from doing something foolish, Sergeant, but a man's life has to be worth something, or it is worth nothing. I farmed because that is what Sophia wanted me to do. Now she is gone, and she is never coming back. I never want to see another farm in my life. It would only remind me of what I have lost. Take me to Tagaret, Sergeant. Make a soldier out of me, and let my life have some meaning to it."

The sergeant stared at the farmer for a moment and then nodded in acceptance. "All right, Lloyd. I will take you to Tagaret, and my men will teach you what they can in the few days that we will be together, but I urge you to give some sincere thought to your plans once we reach the city. As much as we need soldiers, I wouldn't want any man taking up the sword for the wrong reason."

"Agreed," smiled Lloyd.

"You will call me Sergeant Toucker for the rest of our journey. I will expect you to follow my orders as if you were one of my men. If you cannot do that, I will leave you at the side of the road. Do you understand?"

"I understand, Sergeant Toucker," Lloyd said with firmness.

Sergeant Toucker sat on a log and watched the spar between Lloyd and one of his men. The fighters were using branches instead of swords so that the farmer did not get hurt, but the sergeant was beginning to wonder who would be the one getting hurt.

"The farmer is a natural fighter," the soldier next to the sergeant commented. "Look at those moves. He is good."

"Very good," the sergeant replied suspiciously. "I find it hard to believe that Lloyd has never fought before."

"Why would he lie?" asked the soldier.

"I don't know," frowned the sergeant, "but it is more than just his fighting skill. I watched him riding today. He is wary in a way that a battle-hardened veteran would be wary. When that herd of deer surprised us a couple of hours ago, Lloyd already knew that they were there. I could see it in the way he kept looking towards them, even though we could not see them."

A resounding crack split the air as Lloyd's sparring partner cracked his stick over the farmer's shoulder. The stick broke in two, but Lloyd acted as if he had not felt it. He brought his own stick around and swept the soldier's feet out from under him. The other soldiers in the camp gasped and applauded, but the sergeant narrowed his eyes. The farmer dropped his stick and stepped forward to extend a hand to the fallen soldier, ending the spar.

"Did you see that?" the soldier next to the sergeant asked excitedly. "He is a natural born warrior."

"Perhaps," mumbled the sergeant. "I plan to do some checking up on Lloyd Becker when we reach Tagaret. In the meantime, I want you to keep a close eye on him. Don't let him catch you spying, but watch his every movement."

"Will do, Sergeant, but I don't understand why you are suspicious. They say that Alexander Tork was a natural born warrior. Why not Lloyd?"

"It is possible," conceded the sergeant, "but it is my job to be suspicious. You just keep an eye on him and leave the thinking to me. I will know soon enough if he is who he says he is."

Chapter 2

Alexander and Jenneva Tork walked through the magical portal from the dwarven kingdom of Tarashin to the Royal Palace in Tagaret. They were escorted to the Council Chambers where King Arik and his closest advisors were planning for the upcoming invasion of Alcea. The two Knights of Alcea entered the room and the conversation halted immediately.

"We did not come all this way to halt your meeting," Alex said humorously.

"You are always welcome in my company," grinned King Arik. "Come in. We were just discussing the defense of Alcea. Your thoughts will be most welcome." The king turned back to face Governor Mobami of Sordoa and nodded for him to continue.

The rogue-general-turned-governor continued his statements. "As I was saying, there is a good possibility that we have rooted out all of the Snakes in Sordoa. We have not had any indication of spying in over a month."

"A good spy knows when to lie low," interjected Governor Fernandez of Cordonia. "I should know; I used to be one. While it gives one a good feeling to think they have made great progress in eradicating the spies amongst us, we can not afford to let down our guard. Let me send some people down to Trekum and see what they can scrape off the floors in your basements and alleys."

"I would be a fool to refuse such an offer," smiled Governor Mobami, "but I truly think it will be a wasted trip for your people."

"I would more than welcome the same offer for Lanoir," declared Governor Za-chan. "I do not have the same confidence in my situation as Governor Mobami does. Ongchi is a large city and our government is the largest of all provinces. I have found it almost impossible to verify everyone in such a large bureaucracy."

"Then I shall send some people to Ongchi as well," offered General Fernandez.

"Let's get beyond the Snakes," suggested General Gregor. "We still have to plan a defense against the invading Zarans. What have the provinces come up with so far?"

"I am increasing the size of Lanoir's armies," answered Governor Za-chan. "There is little else that I can do. While we know where the armies are coming from, we do not know when they will attack or how many troops we will be up against when they do come."

"There is truth in that," frowned General Fernandez as he glanced at Alexander Tork. "We need more intelligence on the enemy. Have you brought any with you today, Alex?"

"I have brought news," Alex replied, "but not the type you are asking for."

"Bring us up to date on Zara, Alex," urged the king.

"The Dielderal elves are free," declared Alex. "All four of the reeducation centers were hit within a day of the others. The children are safe, and the rest of the Dielderal have escaped. They will aid us when it is time to strike at the Federation in Zara."

"That must have caused some consternation in the Imperial Palace," remarked Queen Tanya. "Will Emperor Jaar survive such an embarrassment?"

"That I cannot answer at the moment," replied Alex, "but I might be able to on the next visit. Clint is currently on his way to the Imperial Palace to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of the founding of the Federation. He will report what the mood is in Despair."

"He is a minor general in the Federation army," frowned General Gregor. "Why would the emperor invite him?"

"He was not specifically invited," answered Alex. "In fact, he learned of it quite by accident. His troops are stationed in Olansk. A couple of days ago, General Marashef arrived from Tyronia on his way to Giza. He is taking a ship from Giza to Despair for the celebration. Clint decided to tag along as if he had received an invitation."

"Isn't that a bit dangerous?" asked Zack Nolan, the spymaster for Alcea.

"I don't think so," offered Jenneva. "The celebration is a way for Emperor Jaar to hide the embarrassment of the Dielderal. Every monarch and every general has been invited as well as many nobles from the countries of the Federation. It will be quite an event. I doubt anyone would blink an eye seeing General Forshire attend."

"Every general except Clint," Governor Fernandez pointed out.

"I suspect that General Forshire's lack of an invitation was merely neglect," replied Jenneva. "To most of the Federation the A Corps is merely an ornamental army, not a real one. There will be hundreds of people there. Clint will be fine."

"I think you are asking too much of Clint," stated Zack Nolan. "He has done a remarkable job, but he cannot do it all alone. You have him leading a Federation army around the continent and trying to spy on the Imperial Palace at the same time. If you continue to have him try to do both, he will eventually fail at both."

"That is not a choice we actually made," Alex replied defensively. "We were fortunate to get Clint inside the Imperial Palace. We will not have such luck again. We are stuck with what he can provide."

"I agree," King Arik said with an air of finality. "What about the timing of the attack, Alex? Do you have any better idea than last time you were here?"

"No." Alex shook his head. "Still, I think we can start planning a defense without waiting for every little tidbit of information. We know the locations of the twenty-four Doors, and we know which cities they plan to attack. There are really only two questions left. When will they attack, and will they attack all cities at the same time, or one city at a time?"

"The answer to that last question is critical," interjected General Gregor. "It is one thing to be attacked by sixty-thousand men. It is quite another to be attacked by two-hundred-and-forty-thousand men."

"Both questions are critical," frowned the spymaster.

"Let's not quibble," sighed Alexander. "When we get answers to those questions, we will alert you immediately, but there are general strategies that we can employ without having those answers."

"Like what?" asked Governor Za-chan.

There was a map of Alcea spread across a table in the room, and Alex walked over to it. He tapped his finger on Ongchi, the capital city of the Province of Lanoir.

"We know that Ongchi will be attacked from three sides," Alex began. "Armies will come from Barouk, Chi, and Elmor. Regardless of the number of soldiers the enemy sends against us in Lanoir, they will time the three prongs of their attack to arrive at Ongchi together. To do otherwise would be foolish."

"I agree," interjected General Gregor. "That only makes sense."

"So we should plan to foil them at every opportunity," smiled Alex. "In the case of Lanoir, Barouk is the farthest city away. At a normal march, their army will take sixteen days to cover the ground between Barouk and Ongchi, but only eight days to get from Chi to Ongchi."

"That gives us eight days to prepare for the troops at Chi?" asked Governor Za-chan.

"It does," agreed Alex, "but that is not my point. Rather than waste troops fighting the army coming from Barouk, my strategy would be to only harass it. Slow it down so it is forced to march faster and thereby increase their attrition and add to their weariness. Destroy their supply wagons so they have to forage for food. Snipe at them so they cannot sleep. If it is done properly, you will reduce a third of the enemy's forces before engaging the other two prongs."

"The same strategy would work equally well in the other provinces," nodded General Gregor.

"I see the wisdom in your words," frowned Za-chan, "but I do not see it as a solution. My province has the largest army in Alcea, yet we number only twenty-thousand. Even if the prong from Barouk never arrived, we would still be outnumbered by two-to-one, and that is if they only send a force of sixty-thousand. If they send all of their armies to Lanoir, we will be outnumbered by twelve-to-one. The other provinces would fare even worse."

"Cordonia only has six-thousand men," offered Governor Fernandez. "We will certainly stand and fight for Alcea, but there is no hope of any of us surviving even against the smallest estimate you have given."

"Tagaret falls in between," stated Prince Oscar. "We can match Cordonian's army, plus we have three-thousand Red Swords and one-thousand Rangers. That makes us ten-thousand strong. The odds are not favorable."

"What about Sordoa?" asked Governor Fernandez.

"We are about eighteen-thousand at the moment," answer Governor Mobami, "but I am still recruiting. Let's say twenty-thousand for the sake of argument."

"So we are outnumbered by four-to-one," declared Prince Oscar.

"Only if all of our armies are properly positioned to meet their armies," retorted Zack Nolan. "If we do not know their plans ahead of time, the odds against us will be astronomical. We need that information, Alex."

"I will do what I can," Alex promised, "but it is unlikely that we will have much advance notice. Clint will probably get wind of something when they start moving armies towards Camp Destiny, but that will not give us a lot of time to prepare."

"Our magicians will even the odds," suggested Niki. "I am sure Fredrik could handle ten-thousand Zarans all by himself. Maybe the others can help some, too."

The Royal Sorcerer blushed a crimson red, which contrasted starkly with his shock-white hair. Queen Tanya brought her hand to her mouth to avoid laughing and embarrassing Fredrik even more.

"The Zarans have hundreds of mages," Jenneva declared without humor. "I presume that they are well versed in battle magic, and I expect that they will accompany the Federation armies."

"So once again the odds are against us," frowned Prince Oscar. "Is there no bright side to this dilemma?"

"We just have to fight smarter than they do," replied Alex.

"Do you have any suggestions?" asked Governor Mobami.

"I always have suggestions," smiled Alex. "For one, if you are increasing the size of your armies, do not make it appear so to the public. While the Zarans are aware that we know something of the coming attack, they know very little about how much we know. That gives us many chances to surprise them. In Alcea we need to feed them false information. Purposely understate the size of your armies. Disperse your armies so that spies cannot count them."

"Won't that let the Zarans think that we will be easy to conquer?" asked Governor Mobami. "Wouldn't it be better to portray great strength to make them reconsider an invasion?"

"The Federation will not be deterred by the size of our armies," answered Alex. "In my mind, the ideal misinformation would be two-tiered. I would want the Federation officers to be overconfident, but I would want their soldiers to be fearful of us. This will drive a wedge between the officers and their men. The soldiers will learn to distrust their officers, and they will hesitate to follow orders when the officers show anything less than full confidence. It will then be the job of our generals to take advantage of those hesitations."

"A tricky proposition," mused the spymaster. "Do you have a plan to accomplish this?"

"No," sighed Alex. "I said it would be ideal, but I am not sure if it is practical. In any event, that is something that must be handled in Zara. It is not something for the people in this room to concern themselves with."

"I agree," stated the king. "Why don't we break for the midday meal and meet back here in an hour?"

As the advisors filed out of the Council Chamber, the king and queen dallied as they talked to Alexander Tork. Zack Nolan quietly pulled Jenneva aside and talked softly to her. When Alex noticed Jenneva shaking her head vigorously, his eyes narrowed and he grew curious. The spymaster finally gave up trying to get whatever he wanted from Jenneva and left the room. Jenneva returned to Alex's side, but she did not say anything about the altercation. With the room empty except for the two couples, Tanya invited her parents to join them in the King's study for the midday meal.

"That is a great idea," smiled Alex. "Why don't you two go on ahead. Jenneva and I will be there as soon as we freshen up from our journey."

The king and queen agreed and left the chamber. Alex turned to look at Jenneva questioningly, but she said nothing.

"Out with it," Alex said with a chuckle. "Aren't you going to tell me what he wanted?"

"Does nothing escape your attention?" Jenneva retorted with a smile.

"I always pay attention when strange men flirt with my wife."

"Flirt?" balked Jenneva. "You know Zachary better than that."

"I do," Alex admitted seriously. "He is one of the finest Rangers I have ever known, and I would trust my life to him, but he wanted something from you that you refused to give. I am curious. Don't make me beat it out of you," he added with a chuckle.

"As if you could," laughed Jenneva. "I would have you frozen before you could move."

"Probably true," laughed Alex. "So, what did he want?"

"You are persistent if nothing else. He wanted me to mind probe him, Alex."

"What? Whatever for?"

"He wants to go to Zara and spy on the Federation. To do that effectively, he needs my knowledge of the continent."

"And you refused." Alex nodded in understanding. "Yet you did it for Stan Fargo. Why not for Zack?"

Jenneva sighed heavily. "I had no choice with Stan. Someone had to replace Shawn, and there was simply no other option."

"What is different about Zack?"

"He damaged a lung saving Price Oscar's life the day they assassinated Queen Marta. He is not physically fit to go to Zara. Besides, no one could take his place as spymaster of Alcea. He is needed here."

"There is truth in your words," frowned Alex, "but his request makes sense in light of the questions he was asking during the meeting. He is correct about Clint not being able to do everything by himself."

"You can't be serious? We were extremely lucky to get Clint into the palace. We can never hope to duplicate that feat."

"Probably not," sighed Alex, "but if it was possible, Zachary is the one man I would bet on. Let's go have our meal with Arik and Tanya."

"I thought we needed to freshen up first?"

"For Tanya and Arik?" chuckled Alex. "I just wanted time alone with you."

Jenneva playfully swatted Alex as he opened the door for her. Together they walked through the corridors of the palace until they came to the king's study. The Red Swords posted outside must have been told to expect them because one of them opened the door for them. The two Knights of Alcea entered the study and saw King Arik sitting behind his desk, but the queen was not there.

"Where is our daughter?" Jenneva asked as the door closed behind them.

The king didn't answer, and Alex and Jenneva approached the desk with puzzled expressions on their faces. Jenneva spoke again, and Arik remained silent. The hairs on the back of Alex's neck suddenly rose, and he silently drew his sword. Jenneva noticed the motion and swiftly erected shields around them. That is when they heard Tanya's giggling. Alex whirled to face a large couch that sat at the side of the room facing away from them.

"If this is a joke, we are not laughing," Alex said sternly.

Tanya's face showed over the back of the couch and it held a broad grin on it.

"I told you it wouldn't fool them," Arik said as he also rose from behind the couch.

Jenneva shook her head and laughed as she dismissed the shields. Alex slowly sheathed his sword.

"Explain," he said tersely.

"Fredrik has been teaching me some of the illusion skills that Balomar taught him when they were on the road with the Mage. They are quite impressive."

"Tanya thought it would be fun to see how long it took you to notice," added the king. "I told her it was a bad idea."

Jenneva laughed and nodded appreciatively, but Alex was slower to soften his mood. Tanya came around the couch and embraced him.

"You are too tense, Father."

"He just doesn't appreciate magic well enough," giggled Jenneva. "Where is our food?"

Queen Tanya made a show of flicking her wrist towards the desk. The image of the king disappeared and four plates of food appeared on the desk. The king rounded the couch and urged everyone to sit.

"You will have to teach me that spell," Jenneva said as they sat down and began eating. "I never spent too much time on illusions."

"I would be happy to," smiled the queen. "What did Zachary want with you?"

"Is nothing secret in this palace?" Jenneva asked with mock offense. Her words were met with smiles and she continued. "He wanted me to mind probe him so he could go to Zara. I refused."

"Why?" asked King Arik.

"He is needed here. Besides, a spy in Despair would need to be in top physical shape. The palace is well guarded, and Zachary is not fit for the task. If he was being chased, he would never be able to escape."

Tanya and Arik exchanged knowing glances, but neither of them spoke.

"What are you not telling us?" asked Alex.

"Something that has never been spoken of in this city," the king said as he placed his fork on the desk and pushed the plate away. "After the Battle of Tagaret, most of the heroes returned to their homes, but Zalaharic remained in the city for several months. He and Zachary became very good friends. When the elven healer learned of Zachary's disability, and the pain it caused our spymaster to be confined to a desk, he attempted to heal Zack."

"Was he successful?" asked Alex.

"He was," nodded the king, "but we agreed to keep it a secret. Everyone knows that Zachary is our spymaster, but our enemies do not focus on him other than to see who he is meeting with if they can. By keeping his healing secret, Zack has been able to surprise many of our foes. They look upon him as an invalid, and that mistake has been fatal for quite a few Snakes."

"I understand," Alex replied. "Neither Jenneva nor I will breathe a word of it. You have our promise."

"I would not have said anything today if I did not already know how you would respond," smiled the king.

"Why did you mention it?" asked Jenneva. "You could have continued to keep us in the dark."

"Because he wants Zachary to return to Zara with us," stated Alex. "Am I wrong, Arik?"

"You are perceptive as always, Alex," replied the king. "He and I have already discussed this, and I think he is our only chance of getting the information we need. We agreed not to discuss it further until we heard from you, but your news from Zara did not answer the questions we need the most."

"What of his work here?" asked Jenneva. "He is invaluable as Alcea's spymaster."

"Prince Oscar will assume the duties," answered the king. "He will work closely with Larc to handle what needs to be done. We will miss Zachary, but we need that information from Zara. I would like Jenneva to agree to the mind probe, but I will not order her to do so. I understand that it is something that she does not enjoy, but it would be helpful for Zack when they walk through the portal."

"They?" questioned Alex. "Who else is going?"

"Will Stanton and Terris Orba."

"Spiders? Why them?"

"I do not even want the Rangers to know about Zack," answered the king. "The secret must be kept for as long as possible."

"Terris is a redhead, and Will is black," frowned Alex. "They are both exceptional men, but I would have thought that Zachary would want to keep a low profile. The three of them together will stand out quite a bit merely because they will be memorable."

"I agree," sighed the king, "but they are the best suited for the task."

"Are all three to be mind-probed?" asked Jenneva. "I am not comfortable with this."

"Call for Zachary," Alex said. "If we are discussing this, he should be involved."

The king nodded and rang a bell. The door opened and a Red Sword entered. Arik sent the man in search of Zachary Nolan and a few minutes later the spymaster joined them in the study. Alex looked at Jenneva before speaking, and she nodded slightly.

"I can supply you with two men in Zara," offered Alex. "They are both native Vinaforans, and they will be loyal to Alcea. Is that acceptable?"

"Are they skilled?" asked Zachary.

"They were caravan warriors when I met them last year," answered Alex. "Their courage is spoken for. They helped me infiltrate the Royal Palace in Waxhaw, and I spent many a night sparring with them. They are good warriors, and they have the aptitude to play a role, but you might need to train them in that area. More importantly, they understand the culture of the Federation in ways that Jenneva will not be able to help you to know."

"I know Zaran culture through the eyes of a merchant," explained Jenneva. "I can share that point of view with you, but caravan warriors see a different side of everything. They will be more familiar with the seedier parts of the cities, and their mindset will be closer to the average soldier than a merchant would experience. I think it is a good idea."

The spymaster scratched his chin and stared at Alex. "You two have been on the scene for over a year now, and I value your advice greatly. If you think it is a good match, I will accept it. Who are these men?"

"Their names are Cobb and Bork," answered Alex, "and you can trust them. I will also arrange for unicorns for the three of you, but you must not reveal their existence. That is imperative. Too much of what we are doing would be compromised if the Federation knew about the unicorns or the fairies. I assume that you will need a fairy too?"

"Actually," smiled Zachary as he gently patted his breast pocket, "Flea has been with me for some time now."

Alex glanced at the spymaster's pocket and saw a pair of tiny eyes staring out at him. He laughed.

Chapter 3

Ships from all over the Sea of Tears sailed towards Despair. Each ship was filled with generals, monarchs, and notable citizens of elite status, and they all were bound for the Imperial Palace for a weeklong celebration of the twentieth anniversary of the founding of the Federation. The excitement of the occasion did a great deal to temper the feelings of defeat brought on by the disappearance of the Dielderal elves. In fact, no one seemed inclined to speak of the seemingly impossible emptying of the reeducation centers. This was especially true of the ship carrying General Forshire and eight other Federation generals from the port of Giza in Aerta. In addition to the seven Aertan generals, General Marashef from Tyronia was also onboard.

Clint leaned on the starboard rail watching the coastline of the Empire of Barouk pass by. General Marashef was on his left and Generals Antero and Whitman were on his right. All four men stared at the magnificent mansions that lined the cliffs north of the city of Despair.

"I have been in and out of Despair many times," commented General Forshire, "but I never knew that these huge estates even existed."

"The elite of the empire do not reside in the city of Despair," General Antero replied. "Oh, they do have mansions in the city as well, but it is here along the coast where they really live. There is enormous wealth among those estates."

"The Coast Road swings inland north of Despair," added General Marashef. "Some say the whole road was moved further inland many years ago to ensure privacy for those estates. I do not doubt it for a minute. Those nobles are the true power of the empire."

"Of the empire, perhaps," scowled General Whitman, "but not the Federation. The Empire of Barouk is only one of the countries of the Federation. Aerta has plenty of powerful nobles, too."

"Be civil," General Antero warned softly. "We are here for a celebration, not to disparage our partners."

General Antero was the Commanding General of Aerta and Whitman's superior. General Whitman took the rebuke without comment, but he soon separated from the other three generals and went below deck.

"He needs to watch his tongue," General Marashef said softly after General Whitman had left. "Grand General Kyrga would take offense at his words."

"Hopefully he will never run across the Grand General during the celebration," replied General Antero. "There will be hundreds of people at the celebration. I am sure one of them will grab Kyrga's attention before Whitman misspeaks."

"Probably true," chuckled General Marashef. "Kyrga can be offended easily enough." The Commanding General of Tyronia turned and looked at Clint. "I am surprised that you have not gotten on his bad side already, General Forshire. I was quite surprised when I arrived in Olansk to see you heading an army, even if it is a small one. How did you do it?"

"The Grand General is suspicious of anyone who tries to step on his turf," answered Clint. "I made it clear from the beginning that I held no interest in politics or promotion. I am only interested in serving the Federation as a general in charge of an army. I think it is in that position that I can best serve the Federation."

"You are the A Corps, isn't that right?" asked General Antero. Clint nodded, and the Aertan general's lips turned upward in a mischievous smile. "I heard that your army is a bunch of misfits."

Clint recognized the taunt for what it was. General Antero was trying to see what Clint was made of and how he would react to a confrontation.

"They have been described as misfits," Clint answered calmly. "In truth, I recruited them out of the Federation prisons."

"You are joking," chuckled General Antero.

"I am not," retorted Clint. "Other than the squad supplied to me by General Marashef in Ur, every one of my men is from the prisons."

"Even the men I gave you were misfits," laughed General Marashef. "I should apologize for that, but truthfully, I saw a way to get them out of my command, and I took it."

"I don't understand," frowned General Antero. "From what I have heard, you were a rather talented general in Tyronia. What possible pleasure can you derive from leading a bunch of misfits around?"

Clint looked at General Antero and smiled. "General, anyone can be put in command of ten-thousand men and pretend he is a general. If he has a few good colonels under his command, he might even appear to be competent, but I have taken two-thousand castoffs and molded them into a fighting force."

"And you really think you have made soldiers out of these men?" General Antero asked.

"I command the only army to have captured rebels," Clint replied proudly. "The A Corps has also accomplished several other noteworthy deeds, but I am not at liberty to discuss them. Yes, General, I think the A Corps is a competent army, small, but competent."

"Well," smiled General Antero, "I could hardly expect you to say anything different, but the truth will come out soon enough. The real test of any army is in combat. Be careful that your men don't bolt at the first sign of trouble."

"I have taught my men to act as if I was always watching them, General," Clint replied with a slight smile. "Turn around and gaze upon the escorting squads on this ship and tell me what you see?"

General Antero frowned in puzzlement, but he turned around and gazed upon the squads of soldiers escorting their generals. Most of the soldiers were sprawled out on the deck or clumped together playing games of chance. One squad stood out from the rest. The squad from A Corp stood alert about twenty paces away from General Forshire as if awaiting a command from their leader. General Antero shook his head and turned back to look at Clint.

"You are too hard on your men, General Forshire. We are in no risk of attack on this ship."

"That is not the point," Clint responded. "A soldier's duty is to always be prepared. When they are off duty, they can do as they please, as long as they do not besmirch the name of the A Corps, but when they are on duty, they will behave so. I do not look upon soldiering as a hobby. It is a profession, and I expect my men to treat it as such."

"And they do not complain?" asked General Marashef.

"Not to me," grinned Clint. "These men will have ample time off during the celebration, but they are on duty until I am safely escorted to the Imperial Palace."

"I am impressed," admitted General Antero, "but as I said before, only in combat will the truth be known."

"There is the palace," pointed General Marashef. "I guess it is time to round up my own men. I can't wait to get some solid land under my feet again."

General Marashef left the rail, and General Antero soon followed. Clint walked over to his men and spoke softly to Colonel Donil.

"We are almost there. Remember to keep Kent in the barracks. I don't want Kyrga to see him. Use the rest of the men to find out whatever you can. Mix with the other escorts and learn anything and everything that is possible to learn."

"It shall be as you wish," frowned the colonel, "but it would help if you could narrow down what it is we are seeking to learn."

"I won't know what is valuable until I hear it," answered Clint. "Just mix and listen. Every one of these other generals is a possible threat to me. Find out everything you can. I will meet with you nightly to discuss what you have learned."

An hour later the ship pulled alongside one of the docks at the Imperial Palace. As the different delegations disembarked, a soldier was assigned to show the escorts to barracks and another soldier escorted each general to his room. Supervising the entire welcoming party was Colonel Taerin. He efficiently directed the palace soldiers and as soon as the ship was empty, it pulled away from the dock to make room for the next ship. Colonel Taerin greeted each general by name. He offered a slight smile when he greeted Clint, but he quickly moved onward to the next general. Unknown to Clint, Colonel Taerin recognized Captain Kent, but he kept his knowledge from showing.

Clint walked towards the palace in between General Marashef and General Antero. Their conversation was lighthearted, and their mood was jovial. It painted a picture of familiarity and acceptance of General Forshire to the Grand General who was covertly watching from a balcony. Once inside the palace, the three generals split up as their escorts guided them to their private quarters. As soon as Clint's escort was gone, the Ranger left his quarters and made his way to the emperor's office. He took the servant corridors to avoid being seen, but he need not have bothered. So many people were flowing into the palace from land and sea that the place was in pandemonium. One of the emperor's guards stuck his head in the door and announced General Forshire. Clint was immediately admitted into the emperor's presence, but he waited for the door to close before speaking.

"I have distressing news to give," Clint said as he bowed to the emperor.

"All news is depressing lately. What have you discovered?"

"The expedition into Elfwoods was led by Captain Kent of the city guard," Clint revealed. "He was ordered to do it by Grand General Kyrga."

"Kent admitted this?"

"He did. You should also know that Grand General Kyrga sneaks out of the palace at times to visit with K'san, the one here in Despair."

"It is hardly an offense to visit a priest," replied the emperor.

"K'san is no normal priest," retorted Clint. "He is a demonkin, and you would be well advised to keep your distance from them."

"I have a hard time believing in such nonsense."

"I understood that from the first time we spoke, but I feel obliged to warn you anyway."

Emperor Jaar broke eye contact with the general and stared at the wall for a moment. When he returned his gaze to Clint, his eyes held determination in them.

"It would appear that the Federation will soon be in need of a new Grand General. Had you not already stated that leading an army was your ultimate goal in life, you would be a likely candidate."

The hairs on the back of Clint's neck stood on end. To be placed in command of all of the armies of the Federation might allow him to call off the attack on Alcea. It was extremely tempting to accept the position, but there was danger in even appearing to want it. Clint dwelled on the offer for a moment and shook his head. If he did accept the position, he would never be allowed to cancel the invasion. Forces stronger than Emperor Jaar were driving the war.

"I have no desire to be Grand General of the Federation," declared General Forshire. "I only wish to command my army and be given free reign to do so."

"A wise answer," smiled the emperor. "At least now I know that you are not framing Kyrga to take his place. You have done well, General Forshire. I have nothing further for you."

Clint bowed and backed his way out of the office. Less than an hour later, Colonel Taerin entered the emperor's office.

"You need to see me?" asked the colonel.

"How well did you know Captain Kent?" asked the emperor.

"Not well," answered the colonel. "He seemed to be a decent captain of the guard, but that would not preclude nefarious activity. Why do you ask?"

"I was recently told that Captain Kent led the expedition into Elfwoods. I was also told that he named the Grand General as the person who ordered him to do so. I need to be sure of this information before I act."

"Then I shall ask him," offered the colonel.

"That might be difficult," frowned the emperor. "The last I heard, he was in Olansk."

"He is on the palace grounds," revealed Colonel Taerin. "He came as part of the escort for General Forshire."

"Did he?" brightened the emperor. "Find him and interrogate him. I need to know the truth of this matter. Do it quietly."

Colonel Taerin left the emperor's office and covertly exited the palace. He stealthily made his way to the barracks where the A Corps squad was housed. He entered the barracks to find two soldiers inside. One of them was Captain Kent, but he no longer wore the insignia of an officer. The other soldier jumped to his feet and saluted the colonel. Colonel Taerin looked at the soldier and nodded towards the door.

"Wait outside please."

"I have orders to stay here," protested the soldier.

"Then you will stay close to the barracks after you step outside," retorted the colonel. When the soldier made no move to exit the building, the colonel narrowed his eyes. "I am on official business from the emperor. You will wait outside or you will find yourself back in prison."

After a moment's hesitation, the soldier nodded. "I will wait outside, but I will not allow you to take him out of this building. If that is your intent, you had better call the guards now."

Colonel Taerin raised an eyebrow at the soldier's loyalty to duty, but he nodded and waved the man out of the building. When he was alone with Kent he turned to look at him and found the former captain with his back against the wall. Fear was evident in his face, and the colonel knew why.

"I am not here to harm you, Kent. I am here to verify what was told to the emperor earlier today. Who ordered you to lead a party into Elfwoods?"

"I have nothing to say unless General Forshire is present."

"You put a lot of trust in General Forshire?" the colonel asked in surprise. "Isn't he the one who dragged you back here to Despair?"

"He didn't drag me," answered Kent. "He gave me the option. I chose to come back."

"Why? If what I heard was true, you should want to be as far from here as possible."

"I am officially dead," answered Kent. "Or I should be. General Forshire promised me that."

"Alright," frowned the colonel, "but why would you come back then?"

"My family is here. I want to take them away with me. As soon as I can get out of here, you will never see me again."

"I have no problem with that," stated the colonel. "Has General Forshire agreed?"

"He has. He said the emperor might demand to speak to me, but right after that I would be free to go."

"He has been honest with you," stated the colonel. "The sooner you confirm for me what the general told the emperor, the sooner you are free to go."

Captain Kent hesitated for a moment, but he had always known Colonel Taerin as a just man. He nodded in agreement.

"It was Grand General Kyrga who ordered the trip into Elfwoods. I was forbidden to discuss the orders even with my own men. The priest K'san actually gave all the orders."

"And the elf women?"

"The priest took them. I do not know where they ended up."

Colonel Taerin sighed heavily and stared at the floor.

"You aren't here for Kyrga, are you?" Kent asked nervously.

"No, Kent. I have been honest with you. I am just thinking of the implications of what you have revealed. Things could get messy around here."

"Remember your promise," Kent pushed. "I didn't come back to Despair to die again."

"We will get you out of here safely," the colonel promised. "I have to report back to the emperor to make sure he is satisfied before you disappear. I will be back later, and we can talk about your freedom."

Colonel Taerin left the barracks and returned to the palace. He was well known by most of the generals and he suffered many interruptions before he was able sneak off to the emperor's office. When he entered, he found Emperor Jaar impatient for the information.

"Well?"

"Captain Kent confirms that Grand General Kyrga ordered the entry into Elfwoods. K'san made all of the actual decisions, and the women were left with him. I am sure that Kent is being truthful."

"I suspected as much," sighed the emperor, "but I had to be certain. The Federation will have to have a new Grand General." The emperor sighed again and shook his head. "I have been choosing them rather poorly, haven't I? Who would you suggest?"

The colonel thought that a native Baroukan was best to fill the spot, and the empire had nine capable generals. He thought for a minute before answering.

"I would suggest General Ross."

"Ross?" questioned the emperor. "I would have expected you to say Tauman or Fortella."

"General Tauman is probably the best general the empire has," reasoned the colonel, "but I can not see him as the new Grand General. His attitude of superiority would never allow him to say he was wrong, and worse, if his views differed from yours, he would try to ignore you. General Fortella is too close to Kyrga. I would not be surprised to find out that Fortella and Kyrga have violated other orders together. No, I think Ross would be loyal to the empire, you, and the Federation, in that order."

"He would place the empire over me?" frowned the emperor.

"I think he would, and I see that as a strength. What I mean by that is that he would not be afraid to tell you when he thought you were wrong. I see that as a good quality."

"Would he act against my wishes?"

"I do not think so," answered the colonel. "I think he would tell you that you were wrong and work to sway your opinion. Would you want someone to obey your every command even if that command is obviously wrong? None of us are infallible."

"I certainly have proved that with the selection of Kyrga as Commanding General," sighed the emperor. "Very well, send Kyrga to see me and then find General Ross. It is time for a change."

"Might I suggest that you hold off until the celebration is over? The purpose of the celebration is to take everyone's minds off the Dielderal. If you dismiss Kyrga the day before the celebration begins, the whole point of the festivities will be lost."

"You are a good man, Taerin," smiled the emperor. "I will still see them both tonight, but the change will not be official until after the celebration. Send them both up here."

"There is one other thing we need to talk about. Captain Kent is officially dead. He came back to Despair because he was promised that he could go free when you had no further need for him. He plans to gather his family and move far away. Can I tell him that he is free to go?"

"I see no reason to keep him, but get me Kyrga and Ross first. I want to make sure that Kyrga does not have a viable explanation before we let our witness disappear."

Colonel Taerin bowed and left the office. He moved directly to Kyrga's office, but the Grand General was not there. He went downstairs where hundreds of guests were mingling throughout the palace. After a thorough search, he finally found the Grand General speaking to a group of nobles. He signaled Kyrga that he had important information and the Grand General detached himself from the group.

"What is it?" Kyrga asked with annoyance.

"Emperor Jaar wishes to see you immediately," stated the colonel. Kyrga's mouth opened to speak, but Colonel Taerin already knew what question was forthcoming. "And no, it cannot wait."

Grand General Kyrga shook his head with displeasure and left the room. By the time he reached the emperor's office, he was in a foul mood. Downstairs were hundreds of people waiting to fawn all over him, and the hermit emperor thought he had something important to discuss. Kyrga was admitted to the emperor's office, but his bow was less than respectful. The emperor narrowed his eyes as he stared at the Grand General.

"What do you know about the foray into Elfwoods a while back?" asked the emperor.

"Is that what was so urgent?" scowled the Grand General. "Do you realize that there are hundreds of important people waiting downstairs to hear from us? Can't this wait?"

"No, it cannot wait," retorted the emperor. "I consider breaking an agreement with the Dielderal to be a serious matter."

"How can it be a serious matter when the Dielderal no longer exist?" countered Kyrga.

"Answer the question," the emperor commanded with a raised voice.

Grand General Kyrga sighed and his face lost the scowl it had been carrying. "I know nothing more than you. We have been through this before."

"Indeed we have, but we are going through it again. As you have no idea how much I know, your answer is unacceptable. How much do you know about it?"

"I know nothing about it," lied the Grand General. "As I told you before, my investigation turned up nothing of interest."

"So you did not discover that Captain Kent let the raid into Elfwoods?"

Kyrga's eye twitched as he realized that whoever was investigating for the emperor had managed to stumble too close to the truth. "I do not believe I know Captain Kent, whoever he is. If what you have found out is true, then question the captain and discover the answer to this riddle."

"I have done so," the emperor said softly.

Kyrga knew the emperor was bluffing. His investigator might have discovered Kent somehow, but Kent was dead. The investigation was at an end. "Wonderful," he replied sarcastically. "Now you can enlighten me as to your findings."

"Indeed I can. Captain Kent said that you authorized the mission into Elfwoods. How convenient that your own investigation failed to turn up this information."

"I dispute the captain's lies," declared the Grand General. "Have him restate his words to my face, and I will resign."

"Your resignation is accepted," replied the emperor.

Kyrga stared at the emperor in disbelief. He kept waiting for the punch line in the emperor's little joke, but Jaar sat there defiantly. The emperor shoved a piece of paper across the desk.

"Sign it," commanded the emperor.

Kyrga looked at the paper and saw a letter of resignation already made out before the meeting had been called. He grew furious as he read the letter.

"Enough of your games," snapped Kyrga. "I said that I would resign if that snot-nosed captain repeated his words to my face. He hasn't done that, has he? He isn't going to do that, is he? Of course he isn't. Kent is dead and you know it. Stop playing games with me. I am not resigning."

"Then you are relieved of your command," stated the emperor. "Kent is alive and well and here in Despair. He has repeatedly stated that you ordered him into Elfwoods during multiple interrogations. You are officially relieved of command, but I will allow you to save face by appearing as though you are still the Grand General during the celebration. The day the celebration ends, you will remove yourself from the palace grounds and never return. You are dismissed."