Richard Tuttle - Star of Sakova

“He is on his way to Okata,” Lyra sighed. “I want patrols out as soon as you can get them ready. Block ever route to the Capital and stop him from getting there.”

“He will not let anyone stop him, Lyra,” Temiker interjected. “Once he has made his mind up about a course of action, nothing will sway him from his goal.”

“But he will die and give Alazar the reason he needs to attack us,” protested the Star. “He will not even be able to get into the city.”

“Do not underestimate my brother,” frowned Temiker. “Now that he is thinking clearly, he will be impossible to stop, not only for us, but for Alazar as well.”

“What can stop him?” Lyra pleaded. “Tell me what I must do.”

“Not what can stop him,” Temiker said with a darkness upon his face, “but who can stop him. You are the only one powerful enough to stop him. Perhaps he will even listen to you and you will not need to destroy him.”

“Destroy him?” echoed Lyra incredulously. “I cannot kill my own father.”

“You also cannot let him destroy himself and start a war,” reasoned Temiker. “Your choices are not good, but they are the only choices available to you.”

Lyra was speechless. Temiker thought she would start crying again, but her face clouded over with anger like a massive dark cloud blotting out the sun.

“Send out the patrols anyway, StormSong,” Lyra ordered. “Also find StarWind. Tell her we are going to Okata and that I want her to organize the group who will be going. Tell her to keep it small.”

“You can’t go into Okata,” StormSong protested. “The Sakovan people have been without a Star too long. They will never agree to it. Let me go in your stead.”

“I didn’t ask for anyone’s agreement,” snapped Lyra. “With or without the Sakovans, I am going. Carry out your orders.”

StormSong looked like she had been slapped, her eyes wide open with shock and her jaw hanging slack. Slowly, her mouth closed and her eyes glazed over with determination. She bowed to the Star of Sakova and silently slid out of the room.

“Why do I have to fight everyone to do what must be done?” sighed Lyra after StormSong had disappeared. “I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but only I can take care of this problem. Surely she must have surmised that from the conversation?”

“She did,” nodded Temiker. “What you don’t understand yet is that these people love you. They will die before they allow harm to come to you. StormSong will be in the group going to Okata or I am not a mage. StarWind’s problem will be in keeping people out of the group.” Temiker started to leave the room and turned when he reached the door. “I will be going as well, whether the Star of Sakova wants me to or not.”

Lyra looked up at the empty doorway and shook her head. Just what I need, she thought. Barely old enough to be thinking about starting a family and now I am going to be leading an army into the Capital of Omunga.

She shook her head again and pushed the thoughts out of her mind. She needed to get ready for the trip and figure out how to stop Malafar before the world collapsed on the Sakovans.

Lyra moved swiftly down the stairs and out into the pre-dawn courtyard. The mountain air was crisp and cool and the blackness of the sky was fading to gray. She pulled her vest tightly about her and headed for the choka pens. She saw a crowd of people standing around long before she reached the pens and grumbled to herself. This was not going to be an easy trip she realized and finally sighed with acceptance.

She tossed her pack to Jostin as she got close to the pens and he scampered off to secure it on a choka. Lyra strode into the center of the group and surveyed those chosen for the trip. She stopped and stared when her eyes came to rest on Goral, StormSong, and MistyTrail. Great, she thought, a giant, an elf, and an overly tall female warrior with an attitude. The trio wouldn’t pass an easy inspection when it came time to enter the city. Perhaps they could pretend they were all part of a circus act.

Lyra shook her head and continued her observation of the group. StarWind, HawkShadow, Temiker, and SunChaser completed the party, eight in all. Too large for stealth and too small for any effective defense, she thought, but quickly decided not to argue anymore.

“Any word from the patrols?” she asked StormSong.

“Nothing,” declared the tall Sakovan. “SkyDancer will keep them looking even as we travel though. I can’t imagine how he could escape detection.”

“Let’s hope we are as good at it when we get into Omunga,” Lyra responded. “How do we enter the city with chokas?”

“We will switch mounts with one of the patrols,” StarWind explained. “StormSong sent one of them out with horses so we could make time with the chokas and then switch mounts with them.”

“Good idea,” Lyra nodded. “Are all of us necessary?” she asked StarWind, knowing the answer already.

“This is the smallest party I could put together,” the spymaster assured her. “We will be all right. StormSong and MistyTrail will split from us when we get close to the city. The rest of us will appear to be the same party coming back into the city that left under Minister Kapla’s authorization with the exception of you. SunChaser will be able to explain your presence somehow.”

SunChaser grinned as she looked at the Star of Sakova, “My younger sister perhaps. I will tell Kapla that you were living in my house up north and I had nowhere else to send you. He will not ask questions.”

“Very well,” Lyra sighed, “let’s get moving then. I want to be in Okata before Malafar gets there.”

***

“I see Okata is open for trade once again,” greeted Mayor Ferde.

“Welcome, Ferde,” responded First Minister Larst as he looked up from behind his desk. “It has been a long time. Yes, I finally managed to convince the Katana that we were only hurting ourselves by restricting access to the city.”

“And what of the assassin?” questioned the mayor as he sat in a chair across the desk from the First Minister. “Is there no longer any fear of him returning?”

Larst shook his head and sighed as he toyed with his long mustache. “The Katana still fears for his safety, but it lessens with each passing day,” replied Larst. “He is almost convinced that Malafar is probably dead. He did get hit in the back with a fireball before he escaped. Not many would even have had the strength to walk after such a wound. Besides, Malafar achieved his objective and there is no reason to believe that he would be foolish enough to try it again if he is still alive.”

“Why do you suppose he did it?” inquired Mayor Ferde.

“The Sakovans have always hated us,” answered Larst with a shrug. “The real question is why it never happened sooner. The Katana has had the palace mages working nonstop to strengthen his shields, so that the act cannot be repeated.”

The Mayor of Campanil crossed his legs, pulled out a pipe, and began stuffing it with bocco. The silence grew thick as the mayor grabbed a candle off the First Minister’s desk and lit his pipe.

“Larst,” Ferde said, finally breaking the quiet, “we have known each other a long time. As Minister of Trade, you were always reasonable and put the best interests of the whole country before anything else. I have admired that stance even when it meant a loss for Campanil. You have many years of service to our nation and you are knowledgeable in all areas. Why is it that you were not chosen to be Katana?”

Larst scrutinized his visitor with a puzzled brow trying to find a hint of a trap in the proffered question. It was treasonous to speak against the Katana and the mayor’s question could be posed to ensnare the First Minister out of his coveted position. Still, Ferde had always been friendly and courteous to him in the past, even when he had ruled against the mayor’s position. He pondered the implications of his answer before replying.