Richard Tuttle - Island of Darkness

“Eating a last meal is hardly something that matters much when everyone is going to die,” frowned the mayor. “Why can’t you just leave us alone? I will make sure that General Papper’s troops do not attack Sakovans, and you can forget about us.”

“That is not acceptable,” Lyra shook her head. “My next stop is Fortung. I will not leave Gatong behind me as an enemy city. Your choices are limited. Either you surrender peaceably, or I will defeat you. I prefer that I not be forced to kill the people of Gatong. I will also point out that I will be working my way towards Okata. Any armies from the capital will have to go through me first. Therefore, your risk is small. If I die, you merely have to swear your allegiance to the Katana. If he dies, you need do nothing but eat the food I provide. What could be simpler?”

“You present a good case,” the mayor swallowed hard. “There is still one small matter that must be attended to.”

“What is that?” asked Lyra.

“General Papper,” replied the mayor. “We will need his confirmation for this to work. While the Imperial Guards may take some orders from me, it is ultimately the general that they will obey.”

Lyra nodded and frowned. She turned to the Khadorans.

“It is time for you to leave the city,” she said to the captain.

“I think we should stay until this is resolved,” objected the captain.

“Your portion of this is resolved,” Lyra said adamantly. “I want you out to sea before General Papper is released from his cell.”

“You will end up back in a cell,” warned the captain.

“I will not,” assured Lyra. “If the general so much as tries to harm me, I will destroy this city by myself. You do not want to be here.”

“You must be kidding,” replied the captain, as his eyes grew wide with disbelief.

“She is not joking,” interjected the Khadoran mage. “The damage to the doors in the prison was such a small effort on her part that she did not even need to concentrate. Believe her and give her the keys to the cell.”

The captain nodded and handed the keys to Lyra.

“Thank you,” smiled Lyra as the crew turned to leave. “Have a safe voyage home. Send in one of the Imperial Guards when you leave.”

The crew left and an Imperial Guard cautiously entered the room. Lyra tossed the keys to him.

“General Papper is locked in a cell downstairs,” stated Lyra. “Please free him and bring him to the mayor’s office.”

The Imperial Guard looked to the mayor for confirmation. The mayor nodded and the soldier left the room.

“I hope you know what you are doing,” the mayor said with concern. “General Papper will be furious when he arrives here. I would not be surprised if he immediately attacks you.”

“I would not be surprised either,” Lyra said as a blue cylinder suddenly surrounded her. “I do expect you to calm him down before too many Imperial Guards get hurt.”

“Before they get hurt?” questioned the mayor as he stared at the blue cylinder. “Were you serious about destroying this city by yourself? Can you really do that?”

“I have never tried destroying a city before,” confessed the Star of Sakova, “but I have never met a task I could not accomplish. I certainly do not wish to experiment on Gatong.”

“Nor do I want you to,” agreed the mayor. “You have not lied to me yet. I suspect that your words are true. What does the blue cylinder do?”

“It protects me from harm,” answered Lyra. “Any attempts to harm me will be disastrous to those who try.”

The door to Mayor Robit’s office flew open, and General Papper stormed in with four Imperial Guards. He glared at the Star of Sakova with obvious contempt.

“Seize her,” he shouted.

“Stop,” shouted the mayor. “We are here to talk, not fight.”

The Imperial Guards halted and glanced from the mayor to the general.

“I gave an order,” shouted the general. “Obey me.”

The first Imperial Guard moved forward and reached out to grab Lyra. His scream roared through the room as his arm passed through the blue cylinder. The soldier spun away from Lyra, clutching the stump of his arm. He stumbled several feet before falling on the floor and writhing in pain. The second soldier watched in horror as he halted, his hand mere inches from the blue cylinder.

The general swore and pulled his sword. He shoved the second soldier aside and swung his sword towards Lyra’s neck. He stared with disbelief as the blade of his sword vanished. He pulled the sword back expecting to see the blade reappear as if the whole thing had been some type of illusion. He stared at the shortened blade and then looked up at Lyra.

“Can we talk calmly now?” she asked.

“Sit down, General,” offered the mayor. “Any attempt to harm Lyra will only result in more embarrassment. I have had a long talk with the Star of Sakova during your absence. She has something to say that you must hear.”

One of the Imperial Guards lifted the wounded soldier and carried him out of the room. The other soldiers stood and stared at Lyra with fear etched on their faces.

“How can you act so calmly about this?” scowled the general. “Are you going to just sit there and let this Sakovan dictate to us?”

“I am,” nodded the mayor. “You see, instead of trying to use brute force, I opted to listen to find out what the problem is.”

“And what is the problem?” snapped the general.

“The problem, General,” smiled the mayor, “is that you are trying to destroy our new leader. Unless we agree to do what the Star of Sakova wants us to do, Gatong will cease to exist.”

“You are mad,” retorted the general. “I will never follow this witch.”

“Then I suggest you run into her blue cylinder head first so we can be about the business of choosing your successor,” shrugged the mayor. “The Sakovans are allied with the Khadorans. Emperor Marak already has an army ready to come to Gatong to destroy us. Are you willing to lead your men into battle against the northern horde? Are you wiling to do it without any food supplies? Are you willing to leave your flank open to attack from Sakovans while you are doing it?”

“Are you serious?” asked the general as the color drained out of his face. “Did she play that trick with some guy’s voice and try to make you believe it was the Emperor of Khadora?”

“She did not,” answered the mayor, “but the Khadoran mage from the ship did. I, too, was skeptical at first, but I now know that it was genuine.”

“How could you know such a thing?” asked the general as he tossed his useless sword on the floor. “You have never heard the voice of the Emperor of Khadora. Whatever she did to persuade you, I would not believe it.”

“What persuaded me was not something she did intentionally,” replied the mayor.

“Then what convinced you that the voice actually belonged to Emperor Marak?” asked the general.

“The Star of Sakova slipped and called him Marak,” smiled the mayor. “It struck me that it was a rather familiar greeting for people who had never met. The clincher was the attitude of the Khadorans when she did it. Each and every one of them stared at her with admonishment. They obviously disapproved of someone addressing their emperor in such a way. It was not something that anyone would think to fake beforehand.”

“How is that possible?” the general asked as he turned to look at Lyra.

“Magic can accomplish many things,” Lyra answered. “The air tunnel is a rather simple spell. I could easily demonstrate it for you. Do you know the voice of anyone in Alamar?”

“I know General Manitow,” offered General Papper. “Are you telling me that you can speak to him from here?”