Richard Tuttle - Island of Darkness

“Lord Shamino has a guest from Omunga,” the Lord Marshal of the Torak clan began. “He is from the city of Zaramilden, and he has come to buy food.”

“An Omungan in Khadora to buy food?” echoed the Emperor. “The situation down there must be worse than I thought. Both nations have long discouraged trade between each other.”

“It gets stranger,” interrupted Yenga. “There is an emissary from Gatong with Lord Sevrin as we speak. They want to buy food from the Ragatha clan. What should I advise the lords to say to these Omungans?”

“I am hesitant to answer that question,” mused Emperor Marak. “I have not had an update from the Sakovans on the situation down there. I thought they were arranging to feed the Omungans.”

“The Omungans and the Sakovans are at war,” Yenga informed the Emperor. “They believe that the Katana was taken over by a mage. They do not think he is Larst any longer.”

“So that is why StarWind was asking the questions that she asked,” sighed Marak. “This is important news. I should have been told sooner. Have we sent ships to Alamar yet?”

“Not yet,” replied Yenga. “Most of our food has been going to the north to estates that were hit by the locust infestation.”

“I heard yesterday that our mages finally have that under control,” the Emperor said. “Those shipments should be able to be halted now.”

“Should I send the ships to Alamar then?” asked Yenga.

“Not yet,” Emperor Marak said after a pause. “I need to talk to Lyra to find out what is going on down there. I will get back to you shortly with instructions.”

“What about these emissaries from Omunga?” pushed Yenga. “They expect a simple answer to their plea for food.”

“Tell Lord Shamino and Lord Sevrin to delay their answers,” instructed the Emperor. “Have them hold a feast for their guests in honor of the historic visits. Make the feasts lavish with an overabundance of food. I want them to be impressed with the wealth and power of Khadora.”

“So it shall be,” agreed Yenga. “I will pass on your words and await your next message.”

The Emperor signaled for Ophia to break the connection.

“Connect me with StarCity,” requested the Emperor.

“I cannot,” frowned Ophia. “I have never been there, nor have I have ever accepted a message from there. I would not know where to end the air tunnel.”

Marak frowned and nodded his head. “Perhaps you could go downstairs and get me a cup of tea?” asked the Emperor. “Fresh tea. I do not want something an hour old.”

“You are trying to get rid of me,” smiled Ophia. “One can only imagine what you would do up here on your own while I was gone.”

“What are you inferring?” Marak asked with concern.

“Many of my fellow mages have been speculating since the discovery of male mages in Khadora,” replied Ophia. “If there is one, cannot there be others? If there are others, could not one be the man who has championed magic in this country? The lord who has spent hours observing his mages in practice with an understanding eye for the problems that we were facing? Am I wrong to suspect that you know perfectly well how to form your own air tunnel?”

Emperor Marak’s eyes narrowed with concern for a moment and then he began laughing.

“I do not know why I am always so surprised when one of you figures this out,” he chuckled. “You are all tremendously intelligent and never fail to notice the slightest aberrations. I will forego the tea.”

Ophia grinned victoriously while Emperor Marak wove his own air tunnel to StarCity. When he made a connection he handed the air tunnel to Ophia.

“You need to know the end points of everyplace that I need to communicate with,” he said to Ophia. “I am not ready to let the world know of my capabilities. We will spend some time up here, and I will help you familiarize yourself with them.”

Ophia nodded gratefully and took control of the air tunnel.

“This is Emperor Marak of Khadora,” he said into the air tunnel. “I need to speak to the Star of Sakova.”

“She is not in StarCity,” replied a Sakovan voice. “She has gone to Alamar.”

“Can you contact her?” asked the Emperor. “I need to speak with her.”

There was a long moment of silence. Marak pictured the mages of StarCity weaving another air tunnel to Alamar. It was several minutes before Lyra’s voice came through the air tunnel.

“Emperor Marak,” greeted Lyra. “What is wrong?”

“There are emissaries in Khadora trying to buy food,” Marak explained. “I just learned that you are at war down there. I wanted to know what is happening and how I can help.”

“The Omungans are trying to cut off the Sakovan food deliveries,” reported Lyra. “They are also starting to invade the Sakova. I think I have managed to close our eastern front by neutralizing Alamar. The soldiers garrisoned here will not attack us, and I think the Okata armies that were coming here have turned around for fear of disease. It is a small step, but it will make our struggle a little more manageable. Are your prepared to start sending food to Alamar?”

“I am,” replied Marak. “The locust plague is under control, and there are now growing fields in the wastelands of Fakara.”

“Wonderful,” Lyra said. “We will try to send our caravans to a different Omungan city when your ships start arriving here in Alamar.”

“What about the people of Gatong and Zaramilden?” asked the Emperor.

“Zaramilden is cutoff from the rest of Omunga,” declared Lyra, “as is Duran. The Wall of Mermidion allows for access only by sea from the rest of Omunga. If their people are starving, you should sell them food. It is the proper thing to do.”

“How will that help you conquer Omunga?” inquired Emperor Marak.

“We are not trying to conquer Omunga,” replied Lyra. “We are just trying to avert war.”

“Then you are seeking the wrong goal,” declared Marak. “You need a new strategy. You must gain control over all of Omunga.”

“Why?” balked Lyra. “You have never talked this way before. What has changed?”

“I became the Torak,” answered Marak. “I spoke with Kaltara. Things are much clearer to me now. I fear that we have little time to prepare our peoples, and believe me when I say that the Omungans are to be counted as our people. You must conquer Omunga.”

There was a long silent pause after Marak spoke. He could almost envision the mental turmoil that Lyra was experiencing.

“The attacks on the Sakova will not end,” continued Marak. “They won’t even stop when Larst is defeated. Vand will merely replace him with a new Katana. You must change their government and make that country part of yours. We have little time.”

“I am not a conqueror,” Lyra finally said. “What would you have me do?”

“Get the Omungans to switch sides,” answered Marak. “Do it one city at a time if you must, but destroy what is known today as Omunga. Only then will the Sakovans and Omungans be free to unite and begin preparations for the coming invasion.”

“If I attack Omungan cities,” frowned Lyra, “I will just be confirming the words of Larst and his bloodthirsty generals. The people will see the Sakovans as aggressors.”

“If you must attack, then make sure that you are seen as benevolent and victorious aggressors,” suggested Marak. “I am in a position to help you. I could send armies along both coasts.”

“No,” Lyra replied quickly. “Khadoran armies will be seen as foreigners more so than Sakovans. That is not the way to unite the people. At the proper time, I would like to announce that the Sakovans are allied with Khadora, but no armies at this point.”