Richard Tuttle - Island of Darkness

“What are you doing?” scowled the Smarc. “Give me the clova.”

Aakuta dropped the wrapped clova on the beach. The foreign mage snarled and bent down to pick up the food. Aakuta’s hands grabbed Smarc around his neck. He swiftly lifted the man off the sand and smiled when he heard the snap of bones breaking. He tossed the body into the surf and retrieved the package of clova from the beach. He brushed off the sand from the package and placed it in his pack.

The dark mage walked to the small sailboat and examined it. He frowned at the size of the small craft, but he knew he could make do with it. He waded into the surf as he pushed the boat back into the sea. He walked it along the shore to the outlet of the Meliban River and then hauled himself over the side. As the current of the river floated the sailboat out to sea, Aakuta raised the sails and settled in for a long journey.

* * *

“I am glad to find you in Fardale,” Lyra said into the air tunnel. “The last report I had from StarWind indicated that you were going into battle against the Jiadin.”

“They have not returned yet?” asked Lord Marak.

“They should be here today,” answered Lyra. “Even with Chokas it is a long ride from Khadora to StarCity, and half of that had to be done by horse.”

“Well much has happened since they left,” declared Lord Marak. “The Jiadin in Khadora have been defeated, and I have been elected Emperor of Khadora.”

“Emperor?” gasped the Star of Sakova. “Praise Kaltara! He is working actively to aid us in the fight with the great evil. My people will be excited to hear this news.”

“It is a most unexpected turn of events,” conceded the Emperor. “I truly believe that the tide is changing in Khadora. The Lords’ Council stands firmly behind my plan for reforms. This country is going to go through some drastic changes in the immediate future.”

“I can only imagine,” Lyra said excitedly. “What are you doing back in Fardale then?”

“I need to appoint someone to manage the Torak clan in my absence,” explained Emperor Marak. “I felt it was better to do that now before things got really hectic in Khadoratung. There will be another Assembly of Lords meeting next week. That is when the fun will start. I am going to propose my changes and members of the Lords’ Council have prepared speeches backing each and every one of them. It is going to be quite a shock to most of the lords.”

“Will they revolt?” questioned Lyra.

“I do not think so,” answered the Emperor. “Oh, there will be great dissent at first, but when the Emperor and the Lords’ Council agree on something, most of the lords will follow without question. They will grumble in private, but I do not expect anything to come of it. How is the situation down there?”

“Things are also amazing down here,” replied the Star of Sakova. “I have had several meetings with First Minister Larst. The meetings have been most agreeable, and I believe peace between the Sakovans and the Omungans is a certainty. Since our last meeting I have had news that Larst has been chosen Katana. With him leading the Omungan people, things are going to get much better here. There is one problem that I could use your help with.”

“I figured that you were using the air tunnel for a reason,” chuckled Marak. “What can I do for you?”

“The Omungan crops are suffering severally from some strange disease,” explained Lyra. “Their animals are also being affected. I have agreed to supply the worst hit areas of Omunga with food, but we will not have enough to feed everyone. I was wondering if you could start sending loaded ships down to us. We have sufficient gold on hand, and I am willing to pay a generous price for whatever you can send our way.”

“I will send what I can,” agreed Emperor Marak, “but I am not sure how much we can spare. Although our harvests have been greater than any other year, I have been using up our supply at an alarming rate. I have ships going to Fakara daily, and the north of Khadora has been hit with a plague of locusts. Our food supply is rapidly diminishing.”

“Locusts?” questioned the Star of Sakova. “Could they be magical?”

“Magical?” echoed Marak. “I suppose they could be. We are using mages to destroy them. Why do you ask?”

“I believe the disease afflicting Omunga is magical in nature,” answered Lyra. “Actually, that is the belief of Temiker. He has his students studying the issue right now.”

Emperor Marak was silent for several moments as he digested Lyra’s words.

“What are you thinking?” prompted Lyra.

“A dark question is making its way through my mind,” mumbled Emperor Marak. “We know that mages are being sent to foment trouble in each of the three countries that occupy this landmass. They have used our people to stir up trouble and tried to start wars. Is it too far of a stretch to think that they might also seek to destroy our ability to feed ourselves?”

“Oh no,” gasped Lyra. “Nothing would destroy our ability to resist their armies greater than a lack of food. What can we do about it?”

“I am not sure,” admitted Marak, “but we have to make plans immediately. Even if I am wrong about this, we must increase food production.”

“Or decrease consumption,” suggested Lyra. “Am I wrong to use our supplies to feed the Omungans?”

“No,” advised the Emperor. “You are using your food for good reasons. You are helping a starving people and gaining peace at the same time. No one will find fault with your decision. Kaltara is guiding you wisely.”

“At least until we run out of food completely,” sighed the Star of Sakova.

“We must make sure that that does not happen,” replied Emperor Marak. “I am glad that you caught me while I was in Fardale. I think that I will make inquiries while I am here. I will start sending supplies down to you as soon as I can. I will contact you to let you know when they will be arriving.”

“Thank you, Lord Marak,” Lyra responded. “I mean Emperor,” she added.

“Just Marak is fine,” laughed the Emperor. “Titles have never meant much to me between friends. My people here still call me Lord Marak. It is hard for them to adjust.”

“I can imagine,” smiled the Star of Sakova. “I will wait to hear from you.”

Emperor Marak signaled for the air mage to drop his end of the air tunnel. He stood silently for several moments in the office of Lord Marshal Yenga.

“I will be gone for a few days,” he finally announced as he turned and strode out of the office.

Marak walked out of the mansion and mounted a horse at the stables. He ignored the friendly calls to him as he rode out the gates and headed towards the Sitari Valley. His mind pursued solutions to the potential food crisis as he rode towards the Chula village. He was vaguely aware of the Chula warriors that ran alongside him in the forest, but he did not let them distract him. When he arrived at the Chula village, Tmundo was waiting for him.

“Favored son of the Zatong,” greeted Tmundo, “what brings the Torak home to the Chula?”

“I seek the counsel of a Chula shaman,” answered Marak.

“Then you are doubly fortunate,” smiled the leader of the Kywara tribe of Chula. “Your father is still residing with us. I will have both Rykoma and Ukaro join us. Please enter my hut and make yourself comfortable.”

The Torak nodded and entered the tribal leader’s hut. He had barely entered the hut when Tmundo returned with Rykoma and Marak’s Chula father. Ukaro grinned broadly as he crossed the floor and hugged his son. He broke the embrace and held Marak at arm’s length.

“Look at you,” Ukaro grinned. “You grow more powerful every time we meet. I have heard that the flatlanders have made you Emperor. Is this true?”