Richard Tuttle - Winged Warrior

“You will think me a fool, Emperor Marak,” the merchant began, “but I was instructed to speak to you.”

“Instructed by whom?” questioned the Emperor.

“By God,” the merchant swallowed hard. “I cannot explain this very well, but I was standing at my stall in the marketplace when suddenly I grew very dizzy. I shut my eyes to clear my vision and heard a booming voice inside my head. My eyes flew open and I was amazed at what I saw. It was not the busy stalls of the marketplace, but a lush green valley with animals frolicking in the meadow and a cool clear stream running before me. It was a most relaxing sight.”

“What did this voice say?” prompted the Emperor.

“He introduced himself as Kaltara,” the merchant continued, pleased that the Emperor had not immediately called the guards to have him evicted. “He told me that my merchant days were over. He said I had a higher calling in this life. He instructed me to visit the Emperor who was known to him as the Torak. I know that your clan name is Torak, so I assumed that you were indeed the Emperor that I was to seek. If not you, who could God have meant for me to speak to?”

“I am the Torak,” confirmed Marak. “Did Kaltara tell you what it is that you are supposed to do?”

“No,” the merchant shook his head. “I was too afraid to ask at first.”

“At first?” echoed the Emperor.

“Yes,” the merchant nodded vigorously. “I was afraid at first, but Kaltara took my fears away from me. After that point I found that I no longer cared what my task was to be. I knew that I would give up my stall and do whatever God asked me to do.”

“Are you a religious man?” asked the Emperor.

“I have never been before,” admitted Pialorta. “I have given as much thought to God as the average Khadoran, which is to say, none at all.”

“But you believe in Kaltara now because he spoke to you?” inquired the Torak.

“It was not just the words,” Pialorta shook his head. “It was much more than that. I felt Kaltara within me,” he added with reverence. “I want to run and shout to everyone in the marketplace, but that is not what I was instructed to do. I came immediately to the palace. What am I to do, Emperor Marak?”

The Emperor stared blankly at the merchant for a long time without answering. Pialorta appeared to have calmed down once his message had been delivered. He sat and waited patiently for the Emperor to speak. Finally, Marak grinned broadly at Pialorta.

“You know, don’t you?” asked the merchant. “I can see it in your face.”

“I do indeed understand,” smiled Marak as he rang the bell on his desk to summon the guards. “It was not long ago that I asked Kaltara for help. You, Pialorta, are that help.”

The guards entered the room with their swords drawn. Marak waved dismissively at them and said, “Send a tailor up here immediately.”

The guards withdrew and Pialorta looked questioningly at the Emperor.

“You shall have the chance to speak to the multitudes in the marketplace,” smiled the Torak. “You will speak to thousands of Khadorans about Kaltara, and you will explain how to worship him.”

“Me?” balked the merchant. “I do not understand.”

“You are to become the Priest of Kaltara here in Khadoratung,” declared the Emperor. “The new temple is ready to be filled with the voices of thousands of worshippers. You shall gather the faithless and teach them to become the faithful.”

Emperor Marak had expected the merchant to protest, but Pialorta merely sat with wide-open eyes, staring at the Emperor. Finally, he nodded.

“So it shall be,” Pialorta swallowed hard. “I knew it would not be an easy task, but I will do my best. Will Kaltara continue to guide me as I bring others to know Him?”

“Have faith,” smiled the Torak. “In the temple library are a multitude of books and scrolls. Many of them are replicas of those found in the ancient city of Angragar. Within those pages, you will learn much about Kaltara.”

“I will study them night and day,” promised the priest.

“I suspect that there will be other priests soon,” stated the Emperor. “Four other temples have been built in Khadora. When the priests arrive here, I shall bring them to the temple to meet with you.”

“I am most honored by your faith in me,” the priest said.

“My faith, like yours, is in Kaltara,” smiled the Emperor as a knock sounded on the door.

A tailor entered in response to Marak’s call. The Emperor had just sent the new priest off to be fitted with appropriate clothing when another knock sounded. Ophia entered the room and shut the door.

“We have just had a communication from StarCity,” announced the air mage. “The Star of Sakova wants to know if you can possibly come to visit.”

“When does she wish me to visit?” asked the Emperor.

“She would like you to be there now,” Ophia replied, “but she understands that you need time to travel.”

“Did she say what she wanted?” Marak frowned.

“She did not,” answered the air mage. “Her tone was different than normal. Her words were guarded. She was terse and refused my inquiries into the purpose of the trip.”

“Very well,” Marak said after a long moment of silence. “Go back up on the roof and contact Angragar. Do not mention the Sakovans, but cleverly discern if everything is all right there. I suspect that Lyra believes that our air tunnels have been compromised.”

“I understand,” nodded Ophia. “Should I alert our other mages that air tunnel communications might be monitored by the enemy?”

“No,” replied the Torak. “Any warning to our people must be accomplished by ordinary means. I cannot be sure of the Star’s reasons for secrecy, but the very fact that she thinks she needs to be concerned bothers me. I will go to StarCity and find out the reasons for her concern. Alert Gunta and Halman on your way to the roof. Tell them we are leaving for the Sakova.”

Ophia hurried out of the Emperor’s office. Marak stepped into his living quarters and removed the white garb of the Emperor of Khadora. He dressed in the black and silver colors of the Torak clan and strapped on his weapons. When Halman and Gunta arrived, Marak was once again the Lord of the Torak clan. Marak’s shadows knew they were heading into potential danger. They readied their own weapons while the Emperor waited for Ophia to return.

When the guards opened the door to admit the air mage, they saw the Emperor dressed in black. Their eyes grew large as they gazed upon the warrior emperor, but they kept their thoughts to themselves.

“I just had a pleasant conversation with the Qubari,” reported Ophia as she stared at the Torak. “I could not detect any hint of concern in their voices. What shall I do next?”

“Contact the Sakovans again,” instructed the Emperor. “Tell them that some of the Torak clan are closer to StarCity than we realized. Tell them to expect a delegation within the hour.”

Ophia looked curiously at the Emperor, but she knew better than to question the words of his message. She nodded her understanding and left the room.

“Within the hour?” questioned Gunta after the air mage had left the room. “You know something that you have not shared with Halman and me.”

“Many things,” grinned Marak. “Come with me and learn some of them.”

The Torak led his shadows out of the office and slipped out of the palace using the Emperor’s private entrance. Within minutes the trio entered the temple and made their way to the library. Halman and Gunta said nothing as Marak slipped the catch on the bookshelf and led them into the small area beyond.

“Just like Angragar,” Gunta nodded as Halman slid the bookshelf closed. “Let me go through first. Halman will come last.”