Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

“Because we must know how he got here,” yelled the mage. “Have you no sense at all? Duran is supposed to be inaccessible from the land. Do you see any boats in the harbor?”

“My men are quite capable of attacking and defeating him without killing him,” argued the officer. “All you had to do was ask properly. You do not give orders to my men. I do.”

Suddenly, the air rippled in front of the mage. One moment the mage was opening his mouth to yell at the officer, the next moment his head exploded in a fine red mist. The Torak was surprised by Lyra’s spell, but he did not need to wait for an invitation to join the battle. He immediately tossed a ball of light at the soldiers crowded at the front of the building. The ball of light instantly flattened, and blades of light grew out of it as it sailed into the group of men. The blades sliced into the men, body parts flying through the air.

Marak swiveled to strike another group to his right, but they were already dead, their charred bodies sending spirals of smoke into the air. The whole plaza had erupted with confusion. The Torak turned rapidly to search for the other large group that had been behind him, but the soldiers were running away from the plaza. As Marak continued his turn, he saw the reason for the soldiers running away.

Myka soared overhead, a Motangan soldier screaming in each claw. Fire spit out of her snout in a long searing streak. On the dragon’s back, Lyra was tossing fireballs with one hand and force bolts with the other.

“Grab your sword, Torak,” taunted Myka as she dropped the bodies of the Motangan soldiers. “You will miss all the fun if you just stand there. Flush them out for me.”

The dragon flew after a large group of Motangans that were heading for the sea. Marak grabbed his sword as he saw two Motangans duck into the blacksmith shop. He ran after them.

For the next two hours, the Torak methodically checked every building in the city while Lyra and Myka hovered overhead. A few of the soldiers put up a fight when discovered in their hiding places, but most of them tried to run away. Lyra and Myka caught them all.

When the last building was checked, Marak returned to the plaza and sat with his back to the well. He was cleaning his sword when Myka landed, and Lyra slid off of the dragon’s back.

“What an amazing creature,” Lyra said as she sat down next to Marak. “Are you alright?”

“I am fine,” nodded Marak. “The two of you were great today. I don’t mind telling you that I had my doubts about coming here while I was in the plaza surrounded by the Motangans. There was certainly more than a corte of troops here.”

“This was just practice,” snorted Myka. “Sort of like playing hide the Motangan. In a real battle you don’t get to eliminate the enemy in small groups.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Marak replied dryly.

“I felt indestructible up there today,” grinned Lyra. “What a way to fight the enemy!”

“There was only one mage against you today,” warned Marak, “and no archers. Do not ever feel indestructible. There is no such thing.”

“The blue cylinder spell protects me completely,” countered Lyra. “I know of nothing that can penetrate it.”

“Who knows what another mage can do?” shrugged the Torak. “Besides, you cannot hold that spell forever.”

“What is bothering you, Marak,” frowned Lyra. “Is it that Myka and I killed more Motangans than you?”

“No,” sighed the Torak. “You two did great. I wouldn’t have survived today without both of you. I think that is what is bothering me. Halman and Gunta have become quite angry with me since I have been riding Myka. They feel that I am exposing myself too much without them around to protect me.”

“And they think I am incapable of protecting you?” snorted Myka. “Ridiculous.”

“That’s not the point, Myka,” replied Lyra. “I know what Marak is talking about. My people are the same. They constantly offer up their own lives to protect me. That is quite a sacrifice for anyone to make, and it hurts when they find out that it is not needed.”

“But those two always protect the Torak,” frowned Myka. “They are even called his shadows, but must they be with him every minute?”

“They worry for his safety as a mother worries for her child,” explained Lyra. “Can you imagine that, Myka?”

Myka did not reply, and Lyra turned to look at the dragon. Tears were clearly visible in Myka’s eyes, and Lyra bit her lower lip with anguish. She had not imagined that Myka might have been a mother, but it was clear from her reaction that she had been.

“I am sorry, Myka,” Lyra said softly. “I didn’t know. What happened?”

“I am going to check on the fishermen,” Myka said abruptly. “I will be back soon.”

The dragon leaped into the air and flew out to sea.

“She lost a child?” asked Marak.

“Apparently so,” nodded Lyra. “The hurt is still strong enough that she does not wish to discuss it.”

“I am sorry for my attitude,” apologized the Torak. “I am glad that you demanded to come today, otherwise I might really have made Halman and Gunta unhappy.”

“So you felt vulnerable today?” asked Lyra. “Is that it? Because if that is all that it is, it was a great day indeed. We both must remember the feeling of vulnerability. Kaltara may favor us, but we are not Kaltara. We must never forget that. Any of us can die at any moment, even though we are asked not to fear death.”

“It is not death that scares me,” replied the Torak. “It is the prospect of leaving my work undone. Still, I cannot afford to become too cautious. What Kaltara expects of me will require me to risk my life many times before this is done. I have come to terms with that.”

“You have done well so far,” smiled Lyra. “Without your efforts, none of us would have been ready for this invasion. Keep doing what you have been doing. It will all work out.”

“We are hardly ready for the invasion,” replied Marak. “We are better prepared than we were before, but we know so little about the Motangans.”

“True,” nodded Lyra. “What are we to do about Duran? I mean after we steal their supplies? Won’t they just bring more supplies in here?”

“They might,” Marak answered, “but I have planned a surprise for them. I have brought poison with me. Whatever your fishermen do not take, we will poison.”

“Clever,” nodded Lyra. “The Motangans will soon learn to be suspicious of everything. StarWind arranged to leave barrels of ale in Alamar when we retreated. It is no small wonder that the Motangans did not chase us last night.”

“That was smart,” chuckled Emperor Marak. “You have good people, Lyra. Look, Myka is returning. The fishermen can not be too far off.”

“We do not have to wait here for the ships to arrive,” offered the Star of Sakova. “Those ships are huge. Myka would have no problem landing on one.”

“That suits me well,” nodded the Torak. “Time is valuable right now. The invasion fleets are on their way to Khadora and Fakara. I need to talk to your skimmer pilot to find out what happened with Doralin’s fleet and then I will return you to Breele.”

“Return me to the edge of the Sakovan heartland,” replied Lyra. “We expected the Motangans to attack at dawn. My people will not put up much of a fight until we are in the forests. For now we will retreat each time they engage us.”

* * *

“We can rest here,” declared StarWind as they reached the crest of a small hill. “We do not want to lose the Motangans.”

The Sakovans dismounted and immediately started to set up a temporary camp. Campfires were started and sentries were selected, although there was little need for sentries. The terrain west of Breele was mostly meadows and gradually rose in elevation as one got closer to the heartland. From their current vantage point, the Sakovans could see the Motangan vanguard in the distance. The sea of red uniforms stretched out as far as the Sakovans could see.