Richard Tuttle - Island of Darkness

“What are you doing?” scowled SunChaser as she entered the kitchen and saw the spell go off. “Unfreeze that cat this moment. That was cruel.”

“Not until I know who it is,” Temiker said stubbornly.

“What are you talking about?” frowned SunChaser. “It is a cat.”

Suddenly icicles flew from the cat and it disappeared. Temiker backed up warily and pushed SunChaser backward as he did so. A moment later, a tall man with the face of lion appeared. His split lips were smiling.

“How did you know?” asked Ukaro.

A knife slid into SunChaser’s hand to face the threat, but SkyDancer was laughing.

“Our friendship has caused me to look at animals differently,” smiled Temiker. “Why are you here? Why have you kept your identity secret from SunChaser?”

“I do not know SunChaser,” shrugged Ukaro. “I was afraid that revealing myself would cause her to ask questions that I preferred not to address.”

“Who is this?” demanded SunChaser.

“This is Ukaro,” introduced Temiker. “He is the head shaman of the Zatong tribe of Chula in Khadora. He is down here to help us with the Omungans. He is well trusted by Lyra as well as myself.”

“I apologize for my deceit,” Ukaro grinned at SunChaser. “I also thank you for your care and nurturing since I arrived. For a human who does not have pets, you scratch very thoughtfully.”

“What are you doing here?” asked SunChaser.

“Snooping mostly,” admitted Ukaro. “It is amazing how many places you can go in this city as a cat. I have toured the headquarters of the Imperial Guard as well as the Imperial Palace. Today I managed to get into the Katana’s private garden. I also found a secret entrance to the Imperial Palace. It opens into the office of the First Minister.”

“That could be helpful knowledge,” SunChaser said with appreciation. “Are you able to move with ease inside the palace?”

“Sometimes,” shrugged the Chula shaman. “Cats have a hard time opening doors for themselves, and I did not dare to drop my disguise inside the palace. The time for that will come later.”

“So you feel as I do then,” nodded Temiker.

“How do you feel?” SunChaser asked questioningly. “What are you saying?”

“That the battle for Omunga will come down to killing the Katana,” Ukaro replied.

“More than that. Lyra has to take control of the Omunga government,” interjected Temiker. “It is the only way to rein in the huge armies. The government of Omunga must kneel before the Star of Sakova. No other result is acceptable.”

“I guess I agree,” sighed SunChaser, “but I cannot imagine how we will accomplish that. HawkShadow is delivering a note right now to General Didyk. If it works, the last major army will leave this city by morning. Still, this Katana does not make public appearances. I fail to see how a handful of us can storm the Imperial Palace and take control of the government.”

“Well we have time to work on a plan,” shrugged Temiker. “Lyra is coming here, isn’t she?”

“She is,” answered SkyDancer. “StarWind and Goral will also be coming. Everyone else is fighting the Omungans.”

“So there will be eight of us,” remarked SunChaser. “It is not much, but we will do what we are called to do.”

“Nine,” smiled Ukaro. “Do not forget that Kaltara will always be with us.”

* * *

The door flap to the great tent flew open and the officer hurriedly entered. General Romero looked up from his desk with annoyance.

“What great victory have you come to report this time?” the general snapped sarcastically.

The officer slowed his approach and walked to the desk cautiously. He knew better than to challenge the general’s mood when Romero was sarcastic.

“They destroyed our siege engines again,” reported the officer.

“I ordered you to create them far from our encampment,” shouted the general. “How would the Sakovans even know we were building them? Did you manage to take any prisoners this time?”

“No,” the officer shook his head. “The Sakovans vanish as soon as they attack. I had men strung out in the forest as sentries to detect their approach, but no one came or left. It must be some kind of magic that we do not understand.”

“Did they use that magical light again to destroy our machines?” asked General Romero.

“They did,” nodded the officer. “Some of my men tried to block the light with their bodies. The blades sliced right through the men and continued onward to destroy the siege engines. We have no defense against such spells, General.”

“Well start all over again,” bellowed General Romero. “I must have siege engines to get past their walls. Get out of here before I have you whipped.”

The officer hurried out of the tent, relieved to be out of the presence of the general. As soon as he left, a senior officer, who had been in the tent listening to the report, walked over to the desk and sat before it.

“Don’t take it out on the men,” the staff member said soothingly to the general. “They are doing everything they can. The fact is, General, that we have been outmaneuvered this time. Without siege engines, we will never defeat General Manitow.”

“Without food,” snapped General Romero, “we cannot even retreat to Tanzaba. We must get into Alamar now, or this army will die.”

“Then it is time for negotiations,” suggested the staff member. “Perhaps you can barter food for the retreat of our army?”

“If they even have enough food in there to feed my men,” sighed the general. “It is not a bad idea, though. I know Manitow. Perhaps I can bully him into surrendering. That would certainly shorten this siege. Ready my horse.”

“You are going yourself?” the staff member said with alarm. “Is that wise?”

General Romero snorted and stared at the senior officer as if the man’s fear was misplaced. He did not want to admit that he could not trust any of his men to go into the city. The general knew there was a good chance that whoever he sent would never return. Who could blame a starving man for staying where there was food to eat?

“I am not afraid of Sakovans or Manitow,” declared General Romero. “Ready my horse.”

The officer nodded and left the tent. General Romero straightened his uniform and gathered what he would need for the trip. When he stepped out of the tent, the officer was waiting with the general’s horse. The general mounted his horse and rode towards the city walls.

General Romero thought briefly of a defender shooting him with an arrow, but he quickly dismissed the fear. As he approached the city, he could hear shouts rippling along the wall. It was obvious that the general had been recognized for who he was. Few officers had only one arm, so he knew that he was easily identifiable. He rode straight for the closest gate. As he neared the walls, the gate opened to admit him into the city. The general rode through the gate and stopped when a wall of pike men confronted him.

“If the general will dismount,” stated an officer of Alamar, “I will take you to General Manitow. Your horse will be cared for until you return.”

General Romero felt awkward inside the city of Alamar. He was grateful for the officer’s welcome as it gave him a chance to retain his dignity while crawling to the enemy. As the general was guided to the headquarters of the Imperial Guard, his eyes wandered in every direction. He observed the number of men upon the walls, and the state of their armor and weapons. He was dismayed to find no faults with either.

General Romero had never been to Alamar before, but he felt as if the officer was taking too many turns to reach the headquarters. Still, he had no choice but to follow. The tour wound its way through the marketplace, and the general nearly stumbled as he failed to watch where he was going. He halted and stared at the stalls of the market. Food was heaped upon the tables, and the prices were ridiculously low. His eyes widened as he watched a butcher carving up a large wasooki.