Richard Tuttle - Island of Darkness

HawkShadow eased the mat away and slid out of the hollow. He laid the mat gently on the ground as he surveyed the sentries on the far bank. Most of them stood with their backs to the river. The others sat with their backs against the trees. They too were facing away from the river. HawkShadow rose and peered over the near bank. He smiled inwardly as he saw that his calculations were accurate. He was in the middle of the Imperial Guard encampment.

The Sakovan assassin pulled himself up onto the bank. He looked briefly at the placement of the sleeping men and charted a path through the camp. The hair on his neck stood up as he contemplated his next move. He knew that he would either accomplish his mission silently, or he would die this night. He pushed the thought from his mind.

HawkShadow rose to his feet and started walking deeper into the encampment. He concentrated on each and every step as he walked between the sleeping bodies. He counted the bodies on each side of his path as he passed them. When he reached fifty, he stopped and turned to face the river. He slowly opened his empty pack and secured the flap so it would not make noise. Then he dropped to his knees between two sleeping soldiers and drew his knife.

HawkShadow gently picked up the braid of the man sleeping on his right. He cut through it with his knife and gently placed it into his pack. The man did not move. He turned to the man on his left and sliced through his tail just above the white ribbon. The man mumbled softly and rolled over. HawkShadow remained poised to drive his knife into the man’s eye for several seconds before he decided that the man would not wake up. He gently placed the tail into his pack and crawled forward to the next pair of men.

HawkShadow felt his body starting to sweat in the cool night air. He ignored it and looked at the man on his right. The man’s tail was facing away from him, and he ignored the man, turning to the man on his left. He cut another braid and placed it in his pack. Again he crawled towards the river to the next pair of men where he picked up two tails. The sweat under his arms was beginning to dampen his clothes. The next pair of men offered up a braid and a tail. The following pair yielded only one tail.

As HawkShadow was about to sever the hair of the twelfth man, a soldier rose on the other side of the victim. HawkShadow flattened himself to the ground. He watched as the soldier wandered off towards the river to answer the call of nature. The assassin remained frozen in place. He waited nervously for the soldier to return, hoping that the man’s sleepy eyes would not notice the close proximity to the two men next to him.

As the soldier threw himself to the ground, HawkShadow’s intended victim suddenly rolled over. The Imperial Guard’s body rested partially on top of HawkShadow. The assassin waited for the man’s movements to stop and then slowly slid out from under him. HawkShadow decided to move on and bypassed the two men that he was between. He crawled to the next pair of men.

HawkShadow spent the next hour making his way back towards the riverbank, collecting tails and braids as he went. His pack began to bear down on him from the weight of the hair, but he was dissatisfied with the yield from his harvesting. Too many of the soldiers had been facing away from him. He had his mind set on taking fifty specimens with him, and he only had thirty-seven.

HawkShadow crawled to the next row of soldiers. He did not bother counting off bodies and working his way back as he had before. He started cutting from the first pair of men in the new row. He managed to collect another six tails before another soldier rose to walk to the river. The Sakovan assassin again remained frozen and waited for the man to return.

The soldier was gone for a long time, and when he returned and went back to sleep, HawkShadow decided to abort the quest for fifty tails. The hours until dawn were too few to dally any longer. He turned and crawled back to the riverbank.

HawkShadow slid over the riverbank. He closed his pack and secured it while keeping an eye on the sentries across the river. He made his way back to the hollow and picked up the grass-covered mat. He worked his way into the hollow pulling the mat with him. When he had the mat properly positioned, HawkShadow secured it with knives so it would not move while he slept. He made himself as comfortable as he could in the small space and closed his eyes knowing that the commotion in the morning would easily awaken him.

Less than an hour later HawkShadow awakened to shouts from the encampment. The whole camp was aroused before dawn as men awoke to find their tails missing. Some Imperial Guards were cursing loudly while others were laughing. He heard more than one smack as embarrassed soldiers resorted to violence on those who were laughing. Chaos ruled the Imperial Guard encampment.

It did not take long for the officers to chime in. HawkShadow heard the shouted orders from the safety of his hollow. For over an hour the Imperial Guards searched the camp in an attempt to find out how the Sakovan raiders had managed to slip by the sentries. The sentries that were on duty were told that they would be punished for their failure to secure the camp.

Before dawn the officers ordered the camp taken down. The Imperial guards mounted their horses and began crossing the river. It took over two hours for the soldiers to cross the river. HawkShadow waited another full hour before exiting his hiding spot. When he did exit, SkyDancer was there with two chokas.

“How did it go?” SkyDancer asked. “Did you get your fifty?”

“Only forty-three,” frowned HawkShadow. “I ran out of time.”

“Forty-three should be enough to rattle them,” smiled SkyDancer.

“They are rattled,” declared HawkShadow. “They broke camp before dawn. An added bonus is the punishing of the sentries that were on duty. The soldiers will be quick in their desire to return home if this continues.”

“Then it shall continue,” grinned SkyDancer.

“So it shall,” nodded HawkShadow. “You must do your bit today. I need to catch some sleep.”

“I have a few things planned for them,” declared SkyDancer. “Meet me near Triple Creek when you are refreshed.”

“I will be there before midday,” promised HawkShadow as he mounted one of the chokas. “I am going to move away from this spot to sleep. I don’t want to take a chance on one of them coming back for a look.”

Emperor Marak stood on the top of the Imperial Palace in Khadoratung. He gazed out over the capital while his mage, Ophia, wove an air tunnel to Fardale. When she was ready she nodded to the Emperor.

“Lord Marshal Yenga,” greeted the Emperor. “I understand there are matters that demand my attention?”

“There are,” replied Yenga. “Things are happening quickly, and I don’t know how to respond to the requests. I felt much better when you were here in Fardale.”

“Much is happening here as well,” replied the Emperor. “I am needed here and cannot return at this time. What are the problems?”

“The first is not a problem,” reported Yenga. “We have received word from the Chula that Rykoma has found a way to revitalize the fields of Fakara. He and the mages you sent from the school in Chantise have managed to plant several dozen watula fields. Rejji has sent farmers to begin tending to them.”

“That is wonderful news,” smiled Marak. “How soon before there is a harvest from them?”

“Rykoma plans to accelerate the growth,” stated Yenga. “The fields will be flourishing by the time he has another hundred fields planted. I think the food problems of Fakara are soon to be nothing more than a memory.”

“I could not ask for better news,” Marak said excitedly. “What are the problems?”