“He is either close to discovery,” declared Fisher, “or he is close to death. Either would do. He is also concerned about others using an air tunnel to impersonate him. Perhaps they would try to spread false information.”
“To what end?” inquired Marak
“I can think of many uses for disinformation,” shrugged Fisher. “If I was in Vand’s position, I could give you an early date for the invasion and then have my spies watch to see what your reaction is. I would then change my plans accordingly. Or I might give you a later date for the invasion and strike early. The possibilities are endless.”
“So I see,” frowned Emperor Marak. “From what HawkShadow and Rhoda told me of their escape from the Island of Darkness, I have no doubt that Aakuta’s life is in danger. He is a courageous man to stay on that island.”
“He has already accepted his death,” nodded Fisher. “I only hope it is swift in coming when it finally arrives.”
“You are telling me this for an explicit reason, Fisher,” Marak said. “What is it?”
“I think we need another set of eyes and ears on that island,” declared Fisher. “We can no longer depend on Aakuta as our sole source of information.”
“And just who would you suggest that we send to their death?” questioned the Emperor.
“I have never been one to offer up the life of another,” stated Fisher. “I think that I should go myself.”
“Out of the question,” Marak shook his head. “You are vital to my needs here. I just cannot afford to lose your services, Fisher.”
“You cannot afford to be blind as to what is happening there either,” countered Fisher. “There is no one capable of performing that task besides me.”
“Aakuta is still in the game as far as we know,” replied the Emperor. “Let’s discuss this again when he no longer contacts us. For now, I would be lost without your eyes and ears right here in Khadora.”
“You sound as if you are expecting trouble,” frowned Fisher. “I have not picked up anything of that nature. What troubles you?”
“What troubles me?” echoed the Emperor. “I really do not know, Fisher, but something is gnawing at me. Perhaps it is the fact that nothing seems to be going wrong. If I was Vand, I would be trying to create all sorts of chaos to keep us off guard, yet everything is running smoothly. What does that suggest to you?”
“That we are missing something,” nodded Fisher. “I have been feeling that way myself, but I guess I have not dwelled upon it. You are right. Vand should be up to something, especially after the rescue of the elf king.”
“I want you to find out what we are missing, Fisher,” instructed Emperor Marak. “I know that is asking you to do the impossible, but if anyone can do it, you can.”
“I will do my best,” offered the spy. “I will be gone from Khadoratung for some time. When is the best time to contact you?”
“Early morning or around the evening meal,” suggested the Emperor, “but if you need to contact me at other times, do so. I want to know what you find out.”
Fisher nodded and left the office. Marak stared blankly at the closed door for a while, his mind lost in thought. Eventually the door opened and a guard stuck his head in. The Emperor nodded and waved dismissively as he rose from his desk. It was time for the meeting of the Lords’ Council.
Marak left his office and proceeded to the chambers of the Lords’ Council. An extra chair had been brought to the table in anticipation of his arrival, and the Emperor sat down. Lord Chenowith was chairing the meeting, and he began as soon as the Emperor was seated.
“This is an historic moment for our country,” Lord Chenowith began. “I was notified this morning that Khadora is now completely slave free. For the first time in the history of our country, there is not a single slave within the boundaries of Khadora.”
Murmurs of accomplishment rippled around the table. The lords were pleased.
“Where do we stand on resolution of border agreements?” asked Lord Patel.
“Over ninety percent of clan borders have been officially agreed to,” answered Lord Chenowith. “Most of the remaining disputes are between two rival clans and each clan has agreed to resolution of the problem by the Lords’ Council.”
“What cases will be left unresolved?” asked Lord Kiamesh.
“Cases that involve borders with the Chula,” replied Lord Chenowith. “That is one of the reasons that I have asked the Emperor to join us today. I am hopeful that he can lead a delegation to the Chula to help solve these last problems. Emperor?”
“I will need to review each border dispute before discussing them with the Chula,” answered the Emperor. “As you are all aware, Khadoran seizures of Chula territory have been a problem for centuries. There is no record of the Chula ever seizing Khadoran land. The Chula will be reticent to give up land that they believe is theirs.”
“You can’t just ask each estate to forfeit what they believe to be their land,” frowned Lord Quilo. “That would not sit well with the Assembly of Lords.”
“I am aware of that,” nodded the Emperor. “That is why I want to review each dispute first. I have little doubt that most of those claims will be outright attempts to claim Chula land as the borders are officially set, but I want to look for valid claims first.”
“How will you tell the difference?” asked Lord Quilo.
“I will ask the Chula,” replied Emperor Marak.
“That’s it?” frowned Lord Quilo. “You will just take the side of Chula? What does that say about your Khadoran lords?”
“I think it is clear what it says,” answered the Emperor. “I have first hand experience dealing with Chula boundary disputes. If Khadorans have any type of claim at all to the disputed land, I expect the Chula to honestly tell me so. I wish I could say the same about my Khadoran brothers, but we all know that is not possible. Maybe someday it will be possible, but that day has not yet arrived.”
“So all of the disputed claims will be disallowed?” asked Lord Chenowith.
“I did not say that,” replied the Emperor. “I fully expect the Chula to recognize the situation that I am in. I believe that they will give up some of the disputed land to ensure peace with the Khadorans, especially in cases where any type of validity can be attached to a claim.”
“You have a lot of faith in the honesty of the Chula, don’t you?” asked Lord Patel.
“I do,” nodded the Emperor. “When one considers that this entire country used to belong to them, one can understand their hesitancy to give up more of it, but they are also a practical people. What they desire most is to halt the incursion into their lands. I am confident that some small portions of land will be forfeited to achieve that goal.”
“I want to meet the leaders of the Chula,” declared Lord Chenowith. “I want to speak with the people that you think so highly of. Can you arrange that?”
Emperor Marak remained silent for a long time. He wondered how these high lords would react to being in a Chula village. How would they react to a Chula shaman who had the face of a lion? He remembered his trip with Axor through Fakara, and how the Fakarans received the Chula shaman. Initially there had been fear, but the Fakarans grew to accept the shaman. Slowly, he nodded and smiled.
“I think it is time for all of you to meet the Chula,” smiled Emperor Marak. “Some things about our neighbors will amaze you because they are so different; other things will amaze you particularly because you will find that they have many of the same thoughts as you have. They are like us in many ways, yet very different in others. You should be informed about your new allies. I will see to it.”
The lords looked at Marak suspiciously for a moment, but Lord Chenowith chuckled at the Emperor’s ability to leave things unsaid and continued with the meeting.
“The Emperor’s edict regarding temples to the god Kaltara is well under way,” he continued. “Each major city in Khadora now has a temple to Kaltara, although those temples remain unused. Would the Emperor care to tell
us what he has planned for them?”
“This is probably the hardest part of my reforms,” admitted the Emperor, “but it is also one of the most crucial. Whether or not you understand it, Kaltara guides our fate. The great battles that are about to befall us will be a battle between good and evil, between Kaltara and Dobuk.”
“Dobuk is the god that Vand follows?” asked Lord Jamarat.
“Dobuk is the Great Demon,” corrected Marak, “but yes, that is who is driving Vand and his minions. Khadorans must learn that we are fighting for more than just ourselves. We are fighting for Kaltara and all that is good in this world. Our enemies are strong and powerful, but Kaltara will aid us if we ask him to.”
“Can’t you ask Kaltara to aid us?” asked Lord Jamarat. “I heard that he talks to you.”
“He does,” smiled Emperor Marak, “and He does help me. Look at the remarkable path my life has taken, from the son of a slave to the Emperor of this great country. Kaltara has guided me all of the way, but should he aid thousands upon thousands of others who do not even believe in him? I want all of our people to know Kaltara. I want all of our people praying to Kaltara for help with the coming struggle. Can any of you tell me how to accomplish this?”
Most of the lords had blank stares on their faces, but Lord Chenowith was smiling. Emperor Marak looked at the Walkan lord with curiosity.
“To many people in Khadora,” Lord Chenowith volunteered, “this Lords’ Council is the most respected body in the world. To untold thousands of Khadorans our new Emperor is the hero of legends. I think the answer to your problem, Emperor Marak, lies within this room. We set the example for how we want our citizens to behave. If we want them to believe in Kaltara, then we must believe in Kaltara.”
“And if our Emperor believes in Kaltara,” Lord Jamarat quickly added, “then I want to believe in Kaltara. How do we learn?”
Emperor Marak grinned at the simple solution presented to him by the lords. He rose from his chair and addressed the Lords’ Council.
“I suggest that we immediately retire to the newly built temple in this city,” declared Emperor Marak. “There I will introduce you to Kaltara.”
Chapter 5
The Voice of Kaltara
Emperor Marak led the members of the Lords’ Council into the new Temple of Kaltara in Khadoratung. While the temple had been constructed quickly, the workmanship was impeccable. The temple was built from plans provided by the Qubari. The lords gazed around with appreciation as the Emperor led them to the prayer chamber.
“I should have visited sooner,” remarked Lord Patel. “This is an exquisite structure. Is it true that it is modeled after the one in Angragar?”
“It is an exact replica,” nodded the Emperor as he halted outside the prayer chamber and opened the door. “This chamber has no windows. I normally do not bother with a torch, but I think one is appropriate for this visit. Take one in with you, Lord Patel.”
Lord Patel took a torch from a holder outside the chamber and carried it inside. The other lords followed, and the Emperor entered last and closed the door. The chamber was large and circular. Marak walked to Lord Patel and took the torch from his hand. He placed it in a wall sconce and returned to the center of the room.
“Let us kneel and hold hands,” suggested the Emperor.
The lords formed a circle with the Emperor and knelt down. Most of the lords were slightly anxious about being in the temple, as religion had never been an important part of Khadoran life. They didn’t know how to act, and Emperor Marak sympathized with them. It was not long ago that he had those very same feelings himself.
“Kaltara,” Emperor Marak began, “I have brought the Lords’ Council of Khadora with me today to learn about you. They are to help me spread the word about you so that all Khadorans might praise you.”
“Welcome to my home, Torak,” boomed a voice. “Your heart is in the right place, but I question your methods.”
“I do not understand,” frowned the Emperor.
“The people must have faith in me,” replied the voice.
“I know,” replied Marak as he noticed the other lords staring at him in a curious manner, “that is why we have come.” Fearing that the others were being left out, Marak asked, “Am I the only one hearing your voice?”
“You are, Torak,” replied the voice. “If I speak to every citizen of Khadora, and they listen, that does not constitute faith. Oh, they may tremble at my voice and do what I wish for a time, but that is not what I seek. The people must believe in me, and that is your task.”
“I understand,” frowned Marak, “but I am not a priest. I seek your help in this matter. At least help me get things started. The Lords’ Council is critical for my efforts to defeat Vand. These men have come here willingly to learn about you. Help me teach them.”
The lords were frowning as they listened to the Emperor carry on a conversation as if he were talking to someone, but the chamber was silent except for Marak’s words. Doubt began to creep into their minds, even though they had the highest regard for the Emperor. Marak began to think he had made a grievous error.
“I will grant your request this one time,” the voice boomed so that everyone could hear.
Expressions of awe filled the faces of the members of the Lords’ Council as the lords finally realized that Kaltara did indeed exist.
“Has not the whole world heard the crack of the awakening of Angragar?” Kaltara continued. “The Sakovans heard it. The Qubari fell to their knees when they heard it. The Chula celebrated it, and Vand’s people trembled upon hearing it. Have the Khadorans been so long without faith that they do not know my hand when it strikes?”
Not a single person in the chamber spoke. The faces of the lords were open-mouthed, their eyes wide with sudden understanding.
“You have done well, Torak,” the voice continued. “I am pleased with the temples that you have built. Now you must fill them. Use these men that you regard so highly. Your time is very short. The evil comes soon. The Time of Cleansing is now upon you. Prepare to fight in my name.”
The torch blew out as a great gust of wind traveled around the circular chamber. High overhead, the darkness was split by a brilliant glow that illuminated the chamber, as the sun would have. The glow slowly began to fade, sending the chamber back towards the darkness. The lords let out a collective sigh as if they had all been holding their breath the entire time.
Without a word, the Emperor rose and retrieved the extinguished torch. He carried it as he moved to the door and opened it. Everyone filed out of the prayer chamber.
“I could never have imagined such an experience,” remarked Lord Chenowith when they had reassembled outside the prayer chamber. “I am glad that he chose to speak to us. I will be the first to admit that my doubt was growing in there.”
“Why did he call you the Torak?” asked Lord Jamarat.
“The time we live in was prophesized thousands of years ago,” explained Emperor Marak. “The rise of the Torak, the Star, and the Astor was foretold in those prophecies. Why I was chosen to be the Torak, I do not know, but it is something that I cannot turn away from.”
“And this Time of Cleansing?” asked Lord Quilo. “That is when this evil will come to fight us?”
“Exactly,” nodded the Emperor. “It will be soon. We have much to do to prepare for it. I will let you lords return to the palace,” he added after a pause, “I wish to inspect the temple alone.”
The lords nodded and proceeded out of the temple. The Torak walked blindly around the temple, supposedly on an inspection tour, but his mind was elsewhere. He was pleased that Kaltara had spoken to the lords, but he also realized that it was not likely to happen again. He still needed a way to get the Khadorans to revive their lost faith.
In his wanderings, the Torak ended up in the library. He was pleased to see that the shelves were lined with books. He suddenly stopped walking and stared at the section of the shelves that hid the secret doors in Angragar. With the u
rge of curiosity, he walked to the shelves and sought the secret lever. He was quite astonished when his hand came into contact with it. Looking around to ensure that no one was present, he pulled the lever. When the bookcase slid open, Marak slipped through the crack and pulled it closed. He shook his head in awe as he saw a single door in the hidden enclosure. Without a thought, he marched to the door and opened it. He stepped into the small enclosure and closed the door.
He cautiously opened the door and felt a coolness invade the small space. He exited the closet and walked to the spy hole behind the shelves. There was no one present in the library. He turned around and saw that two doors were behind him, the one he had just exited, and another. With a grin on his face, Emperor Marak released the catch on the bookshelf and walked into the library of the Chula temple. He closed the bookshelf and left the library.
A short distance away from the library was an office that was reserved for the priest. Marak walked to the office and peeked through the open door. A Chula shaman was in the room and his head immediately swiveled towards the door, his long mane swaying violently.
“Did I make too much noise looking in on you?” grinned Marak.
“You were silent as always,” grinned Ukaro as he crossed the room and hugged his son. “It is impossible to sneak up on a Chula shaman, though. We have a sense about things around us. How are you? Where are your shadows?”
“I am fine, Father,” answered Marak. “Halman and Gunta are still waiting for me outside the new temple in Khadoratung.”
“In Khadoratung?” the shaman frowned questioningly. “But how?”
“I am not sure myself,” shrugged Marak. “I was touring the new temple and found that one of the secret doors existed. I passed through it and came out here. There is now a second door in this temple.”
“Kaltara is aiding you,” smiled Ukaro. “It must be that you will have need for such travel.”
“I suppose,” frowned the Torak. “Something is bothering me, Father. I took the Lords’ Council to the prayer chamber in Khadoratung to meet Kaltara. He was reticent to speak to them, although he eventually did. How am I to convince others to follow Kaltara if He only speaks to me?”
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