Richard Tuttle - Island of Darkness

Temiker smiled at the woman’s admission. He realized that she must have been in similar situations in the past.

“If I free you from my spell,” asked Temiker, “Do you promise to tell me what has happened without trying to run away?”

Mistake hesitated and Temiker’s eyes narrowed.

“I can cast spells much quicker than you can run,” he warned. “You will make the promise and keep it, or I shall contact Lyra immediately. Trust me when I say that I can speak to her within minutes.”

“You know how to use an air tunnel?” gasped Mistake.

“I do,” nodded Temiker.

“Alright,” sighed Mistake. “I will stay and tell you why I am leaving the Sakovans, but if you even try to contact them, the deal is off.”

“Fair enough,” smiled Temiker as he waved his hand over Mistake. “Come around to the rear door of the school. I will get you inside without the Sakovans seeing you. You could probably use a good hot meal while I direct the food wagons to the Imperial Guard.”

Mistake nodded eagerly as she rubbed her hands over her body to get rid of the chill of the magical spell. She followed the magician to the rear of the school and slid through the door. Several students looked up as she entered, but they immediately returned to their studies. Temiker led her directly to the kitchen.

“Eat what you want,” offered Temiker. “I will guide the Sakovans to the Imperial Guard and return to talk to you. Remember your promise.”

“I will,” sighed Mistake as she wondered where she could possibly go now that she had fled the Sakova.

Temiker left the kitchen and entered the dining room where the Sakovans were sitting. He waited patiently as the last of them finished eating. When they were done, Temiker walked them to the wagons. He climbed up onto the seat of the first wagon and gave directions to SpringThaw. Within minutes the caravan was parked in front of the headquarters of the Imperial Guard in Alamar. People looked curiously as SpringThaw and Temiker climbed off the wagon and entered the building.

Temiker led SpringThaw across the floor of the large foyer in the headquarters. A long oval counter sat in the middle of the room, and Temiker marched straight towards it.

“We would like to see General Manitow,” Temiker announced to one of the Imperial Guards behind the counter, his voice echoing loudly throughout the room.

The Imperial Guard looked up with an air of annoyance. He looked briefly at Temiker, but his eyes lingered on SpringThaw.

“Who are you, and what do you want with the general?” asked the Imperial Guard.

“Surely you recognize me,” Temiker retorted. “My friend is an emissary from Sakova.”

There were a half dozen Imperial Guards behind the counter, and a dozen more traversing the room from one corridor to the next. They all stopped and stared at SpringThaw as if a murder had just been committed in the foyer.

“A Sakovan?” echoed the Imperial Guard with a hint of condemnation in his voice. “What is she doing here?”

“She is delivering three wagons of food for the people of Alamar,” declared Temiker. “Will you summon the general please?”

The room burst into motion. Two Imperial Guards who had been leaving a corridor immediately turned and ran back through the archway. A half dozen other Imperial Guards crowded around the front door of the building, peering at the caravan parked out front. Barely a minute had passed when a tall gray-haired officer strode through one of the archways and approached Temiker and SpringThaw.

“I am General Manitow,” he announced. “What is going on here?”

Temiker smiled and stepped back so that SpringThaw was left facing the general on her own. The Sakovan inhaled deeply before speaking.

“I am SpringThaw,” the Sakovan declared. “I have been sent to Alamar by the Star of Sakova. We have brought three wagons of watula for the people of Alamar.”

“How much?” General Manitow asked sharply.

“There is no charge for the food,” replied SpringThaw. “It is a gift from the Sakovans to their peaceful Omungan neighbors. I have come to you for help in distributing it properly. I do not wish to cause havoc in your streets.”

“Is this some Sakovan trick?” questioned the general. “Why would the Sakovans send food to us?”

“Your people are starving,” answered SpringThaw. “We have a surplus. Is that not what neighbors do in times of need?”

“Not in my lifetime,” frowned the general. “You say that there is no cost to us for this food, but I am curious what the Sakovans hope to gain from this gesture.”

“Peace,” smiled SpringThaw. “Peace between our peoples, and good health for the people of Alamar. We would like to make regular shipments to your city. Can we discuss this while your men arrange to distribute the food?”

“Regular shipments?” echoed General Manitow. “Do you mean that the Sakovans are willing to send more food to us without cost?”

“That is exactly what I mean,” SpringThaw smiled as she nodded.

“Let me inspect your cargo,” stated the general as he turned and headed for the street.

SpringThaw followed the general out of the building. Temiker also followed but he kept his distance. He did not want to be the center of attention at this time. He knew that the Omungan people had to realize who was making the gift.

The general stepped up to the middle wagon and stuck his head inside the canvas. He shook his head in disbelief as he stared at the wagonload of watula. He quickly checked the other two wagons and returned to the bottom of the steps leading into the headquarters. He stared shouting orders.

“Direct these wagons to the marketplace,” shouted the general. “Organize the unloading at empty stalls. I want a wall of Imperial Guards around the wagons and the stalls at all times. I want runners sent throughout the city. Each family may send one person to the market. Organize it efficiently. I will have no riots in my city. When each family has received food, I will allow them to return for seconds if there is enough. Anyone trying to get seconds before every family has received their first share will be arrested.”

Imperial Guards scattered to follow the orders of General Manitow. The general watched for a few moments before returning his attention to SpringThaw.

“Your gift is well received, Sakovan,” stated the general. “Please accompany me to see Mayor Reaker. He is truly the recipient of this gift. My men will ensure that it is distributed fairly.”

Temiker watched the general leave with SpringThaw. He stood for several moments watching the Imperial Guards race around to carry out the general’s orders. With a smile on his lips, Temiker walked back to his schoolhouse. He found Mistake still in the kitchen sipping a cup of hot tea.

“How did the food delivery go?” asked Mistake.

“It went very well,” smiled the mage. “I do not think the Omungans know what to make of it, but the people are starving here. It will be hard to overcome centuries of hatred and mistrust, and I think things will work out fairly well. Now, what is your story? Are you related to MistyTrail?”

“I am her sister,” Mistake nodded. “I came all the way from Fakara to find her.”

“Then why are you running away from her?” questioned Temiker. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“She does not feel the same way about me that I feel about her,” shrugged Mistake. “Having a sister means nothing to her. I will not force myself on anyone. I just want to go home.”

“And home is in Fakara?” inquired Temiker.

“It is the only home I know,” nodded Mistake. “I don’t even have a horse. I came to Khadora by boat and to the Sakova by choka.”