Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

“Well that is certainly not the case today,” frowned StarWind. “Do not misinterpret my feelings. I am thrilled with what Lyra is doing, especially with StormSong and SunChaser, but I fear that Lyra will reach the limit of her endurance. That is dangerous for a mage. It is possible for a mage to lose her magical ability by pushing it too far. There have even been cases where death has resulted from over exertion.”

“Lyra will not lose her magical ability,” interjected StormSong as she came up behind the couple.

StarWind whirled to stare at StormSong. Her face beamed with joy, and she smiled at her friend. StormSong looked as fit as she ever had.

“You look wonderful,” smiled StarWind, “but your knowledge of magic is minimal. You are not a mage.”

“No, I am not,” replied StormSong, “but I am a Sakovan.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” asked HawkShadow. “We are all Sakovans. What does that have to do with Lyra burning herself out? She has been inside that tent all day. Even you mentioned how much your healing appeared to take out of the Star.”

“I have no doubt that Lyra’s work today will push her to the limits of her tolerance,” replied StormSong, “and I am concerned for her too, but not in the same way as you are.”

“Explain yourself,” frowned StarWind.

“Lyra is using magic to heal our brothers and sisters,” declared StormSong, “but not only magic. Healing magic is only capable of doing so much. Lyra has far exceeded those limits.”

“Well,” shrugged StarWind, “Lyra is the most powerful mage in the Sakova. I would be surprised if she could not heal better than any of the others.”

“You are not listening,” replied StormSong. “It is more than magic. Lyra is filled with the spirit of Kaltara. He is using her to heal the critically wounded.”

“An interesting theory,” commented HawkShadow.

“It is not a theory, HawkShadow,” frowned StormSong. “I felt it. I cannot explain the feeling to you, but Kaltara was within me. I should have died from my wounds, but something kept me going. When Lyra took my hand, I felt an inner warmth that I have never felt before in my life. When she prayed for me, I felt Kaltara within me. He will protect her.”

“Then what is your concern?” asked StarWind. “If Kaltara is guiding her, you should have no concerns.”

“My concern is that Lyra will continue long after Kaltara has told her to stop,” frowned StormSong. “I know that sounds foolish, but Lyra is driven to heal everyone. I do not think she can accept the fact that not everyone will be healed. When that time comes, then your fears about her burning out will be valid.”

“Well I am not going to let the healers keep me out of that tent any longer,” StarWind said with determination. “I will stay by Lyra’s side as long as is necessary to ensure that she does not hurt herself.”

“I will go with you,” offered HawkShadow. “StormSong?”

“Without question,” nodded the healed warrior. “I owe my life to Lyra.”

The three Sakovans approached the tent, and LifeTender rushed to intercept them.

“You cannot go in there,” declared LifeTender. “Lyra has requested that no one enter.”

“Out of our way, healer,” glared HawkShadow. “We will not interfere, but we are standing at Lyra’s side until she is done.”

“She is done,” said a Sakovan warrior as he exited the tent. “I am the last of the wounded. Lyra needs rest. Go to her.”

LifeTender joined StarWind and the others as they rushed into the tent. Lyra was sitting on the ground in the large empty tent. Her eyes were glazed over as she stared at the tent wall. The four Sakovans raced to her side and knelt next to her.

“Are you alright?” asked LifeTender.

Lyra nodded woodenly and tried to rise. HawkShadow and StarWind each grabbed one of Lyra’s arms and steadied her.

“You need to rest,” advised StarWind. “Do not try to get up. Stretch out and rest here.”

“There are more to be healed,” Lyra protested weakly. “Have the others brought into the tent.”

“There are no wounded outside that the healers cannot take care of,” assured LifeTender. “Those beyond our capabilities were all in here. You are not needed. You must rest.”

“Listen to LifeTender,” pleaded StormSong. “The Sakovans need you alive. Listen to Kaltara. He is guiding you.”

Lyra turned in a daze and stared at StormSong. She smiled weakly and nodded.

“You are wise, StormSong,” Lyra said softly. “He was the hand of the healing, and you are correct. My healing time is over. I will rest, but not in this tent. Bring the other wounded in so that they will be protected from the weather.”

HawkShadow and StarWind helped Lyra to her feet and guided her out of the tent. They led her to an area under a large fargi tree while LifeTender used a warming spell to dry the ground so that the Star would not have to rest on damp soil. Lyra sat down, but she looked up at the spymaster and the assassin before reclining.

“This war must end,” she said to the pair of Sakovans. “There is too much death and destruction. It does not please Kaltara.”

“We will destroy the Motangans as quickly as we can,” offered HawkShadow. “We killed over three thousand last night without a single loss. We will attack them again tonight.”

“No,” frowned Lyra. “You are to arrange a truce with the Motangans.”

“A truce?” frowned StarWind. “You can’t be serious. The Motangans are tasked to destroy every single one of us. They must be killed before they decide to attack the Omungan cities. That is why we lured them into the heartland. Think of your people, Lyra.”

“I am thinking of them,” retorted the Star of Sakova. “We have lost over thirty thousand Sakovans in this war already. I want it to stop. You are authorized to halt the Motangans from leaving the heartland, and to defend our camp, but nothing else. I want a truce with our enemy. I demand to speak with Premer Doralin. Set it up.”

“You must rest,” countered HawkShadow. “We will follow your orders while you rest, but I suspect that you will change your mind when your body is refreshed.”

“Do not presume to understand me, HawkShadow,” frowned Lyra. “Set up the meeting with the Motangans.”

Lyra reclined and closed her eyes. The spymaster and the assassin stood silently over their leader and watched her fall asleep. When they were sure that Lyra was sleeping, they turned and left her side.

“How are we to approach the Motangans and ask for a truce?” frowned HawkShadow. “They are so nervous from our attacks that they are likely to skewer us as soon as we show ourselves.”

Goral approached the pair of Sakovans. It was obvious from one glance that the giant was anxious. StarWind and HawkShadow halted their conversation and turned to the approaching giant.

“Motangan soldiers have left the encampment,” announced Goral. “Around a thousand of them are marching eastward.”

“For what purpose?” frowned HawkShadow. “Are they trying to flank us?”

“Not with a thousand men,” StarWind shook her head. “It is also too many to be deserters.”

“They were marching in a controlled manner,” declared Goral. “It is not a desertion.”

“Alamar!” HawkShadow exclaimed with certainty. “They are trying to find out why their food is not being delivered.”

“And that excites you?” frowned StarWind. “Why?”

“Because it gives us what we need,” explained the assassin. “According to Lyra’s instructions, we are free to attack this group. Their defeat will also serve as our entrance to the Motangan encampment.”

“I do not understand,” replied the spymaster. “What do you have in mind?”