Over an hour later, the tracker returned to the meadow. He galloped across the open area shouting about an impending attack, and soldiers rose to their feet in alarm. The unit commanders began shouting orders to form a shield wall facing west, and men scrambled to get into position. Colonel Hershey rose to his feet even before he was able to hear the words of warning. The sight of his men bracing for battle warned him of the danger, but he shook his head in confusion. He had expected any attack to come from the east, unless the snipers had gathered to attack the rear of the column, but the column was not moving. It made no sense. The colonel waited to hear the report from the tracker. He did not have to wait long.
“The enemy is behind us,” the tracker said in alarm. “There are thousands of them. It is the largest assembly of cavalry that I have ever seen, and they are racing towards us.”
The colonel raised an eyebrow. As most corps in the Federation army had two-thousand riders, the tracker’s words indicated a serious battle was in the offing. He mounted his horse, gazing across the meadow as the 24th Corps formed up in a defensive battle formation. In the distance he could see the enemy start to ride into the meadow. The Alceans turned upon entering Watling Flats, peeling off in both directions to form a line opposing the shield wall. The colonel kicked his horse into motion and rode forward until he was just behind the shield wall. He halted alongside a captain from his own regiment.
“This looks like trouble, Colonel,” the captain said softly. “Any idea where the 2nd Corps is?”
Colonel Hershey glanced right and left, checking the formation of the shield wall. “None,” he replied. “We will have to stand alone.”
“Who are they?” asked the captain. “Half of them do not even wear uniforms. Where did they come from?”
The colonel sighed nervously. “The uniformed ones are the Army of Cordonia. I have no idea who the others are, nor can I fathom what Cordonians are doing in Targa, but there are already enough riders opposing us to cause me considerable concern.”
Sudden shouts from north of the colonel’s position caught his attention. He glanced in that direction and saw men pointing towards the sky. He looked up to see a horde of flying horses coming towards the meadow. On the back of each horse was a warrior dressed in black. He watched in disbelief as the horses landed at the far northern edge of the meadow and formed a battle line. More shouts of alarm from the south caused him to turn away from the spectacle, only to find a repeat performance in the south. The only distinction between the two groups was the lack of uniforms on the flying warriors landing at the south edge of the meadow.
“I don’t believe what I am seeing,” the colonel muttered in awe. “Flying horses?”
“Look again, Colonel,” the captain said. “There are horns upon the heads of those creatures. They are unicorns. I feel like I am dreaming.”
“Then we are dreaming together, Captain,” the colonel responded. “I estimate about one-thousand in each flying group, and ten-thousand riders to the west. Maybe more. This battle is not going to go well for us. The wings on our shield wall will never hold off a charge of a thousand men.”
All of the unicorns had landed, but a dark shadow raced across the meadow, forcing the colonel to look up again. He gasped when he saw the two dragons soaring overhead. They had come out of the east and banked lazily as the riders upon their backs stared down at the battlefield. The colonel turned to watch them as a roar of alarm ripped through the rest of the shield wall. The dragons returned to the east, but a spear shot downward before they disappeared. The spear landed right where the colonel had spent time waiting for reports, and on the end of it was a flag of truce.
“Merciful beast!” exclaimed the captain. “Wake me from this nightmare.”
The colonel said nothing, a claw of fear clutching his chest. He stared at the flag of truce with great apprehension. As the commanding officer of the 24th Corps, it was his duty to respond to it, but there was no enemy representative there. Suddenly, a swath of forest disappeared, and the extension of the Mya-Tagaret Road replaced it. Standing in the middle of the road were four people, two dressed in gleaming white and two in black. They stood ready to parley. Colonel Hershey swallowed hard and reluctantly rode towards them. When he arrived within a dozen paces, the colonel dismounted and walked a few paces further.
“I am King Arik of Alcea,” declared the man in the gleaming white and gold. “I have come to demand your surrender, Colonel Hershey.”
The colonel had figured as much. He was in a poor position to refuse if everything he saw was real, but if the sudden appearance of the road had really been the vanishing of an illusion, might not the rest be an illusion as well? He turned and gazed back across the meadow. He knew nothing of magic. He had no skills to gauge the truth or falseness of what he was seeing.
“You tricked me by concealing this road,” frowned the colonel. “Why am I to trust what else I see?”
King Arik unexpectedly stepped forward. The colonel started as the Alcean king’s hand rose, but he did not react by grabbing for his weapon. He sighed in relief when the king’s hand rested on his shoulder.
“You can believe what you can feel,” the king said softly. “I will give you leave to examine my forces by touch if that is what it takes to end this confrontation. The road was hidden for two reasons. We did not want your army to leave this meadow before I had a chance to seek your surrender. I do not wish to kill your men, Colonel. The 24th Corps is the last of the Federation armies threatening Alcea. There is no reason for your men to die.”
“And the second reason?” asked the colonel.
King Arik removed his hand from the colonel’s shoulder and turned, waving his hand towards the road ahead. Alex, Jenneva, and Queen Tanya stepped to the side of the road so that the colonel’s view was unimpeded.
“I didn’t want your men to have to gaze upon the fate of the 2nd Corps,” the king said solemnly.
Colonel Hershey gazed along the road, which was littered with the dead of the 2nd Corps of the Empire of Barouk. He grimaced in disgust and turned his head away. The colonel turned around and gazed at his army. All of the men were watching him intently, and he shook his head in resignation. Drawing his sword, he held it high over his head and then plunged it into the ground.
Chapter 50
Respite
The Grand Ballroom of the Royal Palace in Tagaret was packed. King Arik had invited all of the provincial governors, military commanders, Knights of Alcea, and advisors from around the country. Dozens of small groups were spread around the room exchanging tales of the 13 Day War that had just concluded. While there were subdued outbreaks of laughter and gaiety throughout the room, the most common emotions were ones of great relief for the continued safety of Alcea and mourning for those lost in the battles. When King Arik and Queen Tanya entered the room, all of the conversations died, in expectation of the king’s speech, but the king waved dismissively at the assembled people and began to mingle with the various groups. Alexander Tork stood quietly in a corner watching the king making his rounds. After a while, Jenneva noticed Alex’s absence and sought him out. She found him in the corner and joined him.
“You are not celebrating?” she asked.
“Celebrating?” echoed Alex. “Over ten-thousand Alceans died in the last two weeks. That is not cause for celebration.”