“He does not only speak to you,” smiled Ukaro. “I think His hesitancy is that you may not demand that He speak to others. He will do so as He sees fit.”
“There is still the problem of convincing others,” sighed Marak. “I don’t know how to do it.”
“Stop worrying about it,” soothed Ukaro “Just do it. It will come to you. You must have faith in Kaltara before you can give it to others. He would not task you to a job without providing the skills necessary to finish it.”
“Alright,” nodded the Torak. “Your advice has always been good for me.”
“I see that you are making great progress with your Khadorans,” stated the Chula shaman. “We have noticed the difference already.”
“We have made progress,” replied the Torak, “but there is still more to do. One of the problems remaining has to do with the borders between the Chula and the Khadorans. Some lords have laid claims to Chula land.”
“That is to be expected of a people who have always sought our lands,” shrugged Ukaro. “What will you do about it?”
“I am not sure yet,” answered Marak. “I may ask the Chula to give up some lands to solve the problem. I will review each claim personally.”
“You have the right to do so,” frowned Ukaro, “but use it wisely. Such decisions could foster bitterness if not done carefully. The goal is to unite your peoples, not drive them apart.”
“I understand,” nodded Marak. “I should return to Khadoratung. Give my love to mother.”
“She will be sorry to have missed you,” Ukaro smiled warmly.
The Emperor returned to the library and passed through the secret doors to the temple in Khadoratung. Gunta and Halman were waiting anxiously outside the temple.
“At last,” sighed Gunta. “I do not care to be apart from you for so long.”
“If I am not safe in the temple of Kaltara,” smiled Emperor Marak, “where can I be safe?”
“Between Halman and me?” grinned Gunta.
“I always seem to get attacked when you two are around,” chuckled the Emperor. “We are returning to the palace where I also do not need your protection. You should take some time off for yourselves. Have a meal and rest a bit.”
“After you are safely inside the palace,” declared Halman.
Emperor Marak nodded, and the three Torak warriors walked from the temple to the palace. Marak’s shadows escorted him to his office and then left. The Emperor walked to the large wall map of Khadora and stared at it. He tried to envision the attack that Vand would throw at him, but he soon realized that looking at just Khadora prohibited him from seeing the whole story. He made a mental note to order a map of the land stretching from the ancient city of Angragar to the southernmost point of the Sakova. A knock on his door drew his attention, and he granted authorization to enter. An Imperial Guard entered and waited for permission to speak. Marak nodded.
“There is a merchant at the entrance to the palace that demands to speak to you,” declared the guard.
“A merchant?” frowned the Emperor. “Did he say what he wanted?”
“No,” the guard shook his head. “In fact, the guards are at a loss as to why he would wish to speak to the Emperor. He is not a well-known merchant that might sell goods to the palace. He runs a small stall in the marketplace. Should I turn him away?”
Marak stood silently for a moment, wondering if it might be an assassination attempt. Finally, he shook his head.
“No,” answered the Emperor. “Treat him with the same respect that you would extend to a lord. Bring him up to see me.”
The guard nodded and withdrew from the office. Marak walked to the window and gazed out at the city of Khadoratung. He knew the visitor would not be Fisher in one of his many disguises because he had already spoken to his spy. Marak subconsciously fingered the pouch that held his Sakovan stars while he waited for the knock on the door. He did not have to wait for long. The knock shattered the silence of the office, and the Emperor gave his approval for the merchant to enter.
Marak turned to face the door as a tall, lean man was shown in. The man’s face showed the strain of many years in the sun, but he was not yet old and frail. The man’s tunic was clean, but showed obvious evidence of many repairs. Marak surmised that the man’s stall was not very productive. The man bowed with respect, and the Emperor nodded for the guards to leave. The merchant waited for the doors to close before speaking.
“Thank you for seeing me,” the merchant bowed. “I am called Pialorta. I am but a small merchant in the marketplace here in Khadoratung.”
“Welcome, Pialorta,” smiled the Emperor as he walked behind his desk and waved at the chair before it. “Sit down and tell me what has brought you here today.”
The merchant moved hesitantly to the chair and finally sat down, but Marak could tell that the man was extremely uncomfortable in the presence of the Emperor.
“I truly do not understand why I am here,” confessed the merchant. “In fact, I was sure that I would be turned away when I asked to speak to you.”
“Then why did you try?” asked Emperor Marak.
The man chewed on his lower lip as he stared across the desk at the most powerful man in Khadora. His hands began to shake. Several silent moments passed between the two men before the merchant spoke haltingly.
“You will think me a fool, Emperor Marak,” the merchant began, “but I was instructed to speak to you.”
“Instructed by whom?” questioned the Emperor.
“By God,” the merchant swallowed hard. “I cannot explain this very well, but I was standing at my stall in the marketplace when suddenly I grew very dizzy. I shut my eyes to clear my vision and heard a booming voice inside my head. My eyes flew open and I was amazed at what I saw. It was not the busy stalls of the marketplace, but a lush green valley with animals frolicking in the meadow and a cool clear stream running before me. It was a most relaxing sight.”
“What did this voice say?” prompted the Emperor.
“He introduced himself as Kaltara,” the merchant continued, pleased that the Emperor had not immediately called the guards to have him evicted. “He told me that my merchant days were over. He said I had a higher calling in this life. He instructed me to visit the Emperor who was known to him as the Torak. I know that your clan name is Torak, so I assumed that you were indeed the Emperor that I was to seek. If not you, who could God have meant for me to speak to?”
“I am the Torak,” confirmed Marak. “Did Kaltara tell you what it is that you are supposed to do?”
“No,” the merchant shook his head. “I was too afraid to ask at first.”
“At first?” echoed the Emperor.
“Yes,” the merchant nodded vigorously. “I was afraid at first, but Kaltara took my fears away from me. After that point I found that I no longer cared what my task was to be. I knew that I would give up my stall and do whatever God asked me to do.”
“Are you a religious man?” asked the Emperor.
“I have never been before,” admitted Pialorta. “I have given as much thought to God as the average Khadoran, which is to say, none at all.”
“But you believe in Kaltara now because he spoke to you?” inquired the Torak.
“It was not just the words,” Pialorta shook his head. “It was much more than that. I felt Kaltara within me,” he added with reverence. “I want to run and shout to everyone in the marketplace, but that is not what I was instructed to do. I came immediately to the palace. What am I to do, Emperor Marak?”
The Emperor stared blankly at the merchant for a long time without answering. Pialorta appeared to have calmed down once his message had been delivered. He sat and waited patiently for the Emperor to speak. Finally, Marak grinned broadly at Pialorta.
“You know, don’t you?” asked the merchant. “I can see it in your face.”
“I do indeed understand,” smiled Marak as he rang the bell on his desk to summon the guards. “It was not long ago that I asked Kaltara fo
r help. You, Pialorta, are that help.”
The guards entered the room with their swords drawn. Marak waved dismissively at them and said, “Send a tailor up here immediately.”
The guards withdrew and Pialorta looked questioningly at the Emperor.
“You shall have the chance to speak to the multitudes in the marketplace,” smiled the Torak. “You will speak to thousands of Khadorans about Kaltara, and you will explain how to worship him.”
“Me?” balked the merchant. “I do not understand.”
“You are to become the Priest of Kaltara here in Khadoratung,” declared the Emperor. “The new temple is ready to be filled with the voices of thousands of worshippers. You shall gather the faithless and teach them to become the faithful.”
Emperor Marak had expected the merchant to protest, but Pialorta merely sat with wide-open eyes, staring at the Emperor. Finally, he nodded.
“So it shall be,” Pialorta swallowed hard. “I knew it would not be an easy task, but I will do my best. Will Kaltara continue to guide me as I bring others to know Him?”
“Have faith,” smiled the Torak. “In the temple library are a multitude of books and scrolls. Many of them are replicas of those found in the ancient city of Angragar. Within those pages, you will learn much about Kaltara.”
“I will study them night and day,” promised the priest.
“I suspect that there will be other priests soon,” stated the Emperor. “Four other temples have been built in Khadora. When the priests arrive here, I shall bring them to the temple to meet with you.”
“I am most honored by your faith in me,” the priest said.
“My faith, like yours, is in Kaltara,” smiled the Emperor as a knock sounded on the door.
A tailor entered in response to Marak’s call. The Emperor had just sent the new priest off to be fitted with appropriate clothing when another knock sounded. Ophia entered the room and shut the door.
“We have just had a communication from StarCity,” announced the air mage. “The Star of Sakova wants to know if you can possibly come to visit.”
“When does she wish me to visit?” asked the Emperor.
“She would like you to be there now,” Ophia replied, “but she understands that you need time to travel.”
“Did she say what she wanted?” Marak frowned.
“She did not,” answered the air mage. “Her tone was different than normal. Her words were guarded. She was terse and refused my inquiries into the purpose of the trip.”
“Very well,” Marak said after a long moment of silence. “Go back up on the roof and contact Angragar. Do not mention the Sakovans, but cleverly discern if everything is all right there. I suspect that Lyra believes that our air tunnels have been compromised.”
“I understand,” nodded Ophia. “Should I alert our other mages that air tunnel communications might be monitored by the enemy?”
“No,” replied the Torak. “Any warning to our people must be accomplished by ordinary means. I cannot be sure of the Star’s reasons for secrecy, but the very fact that she thinks she needs to be concerned bothers me. I will go to StarCity and find out the reasons for her concern. Alert Gunta and Halman on your way to the roof. Tell them we are leaving for the Sakova.”
Ophia hurried out of the Emperor’s office. Marak stepped into his living quarters and removed the white garb of the Emperor of Khadora. He dressed in the black and silver colors of the Torak clan and strapped on his weapons. When Halman and Gunta arrived, Marak was once again the Lord of the Torak clan. Marak’s shadows knew they were heading into potential danger. They readied their own weapons while the Emperor waited for Ophia to return.
When the guards opened the door to admit the air mage, they saw the Emperor dressed in black. Their eyes grew large as they gazed upon the warrior emperor, but they kept their thoughts to themselves.
“I just had a pleasant conversation with the Qubari,” reported Ophia as she stared at the Torak. “I could not detect any hint of concern in their voices. What shall I do next?”
“Contact the Sakovans again,” instructed the Emperor. “Tell them that some of the Torak clan are closer to StarCity than we realized. Tell them to expect a delegation within the hour.”
Ophia looked curiously at the Emperor, but she knew better than to question the words of his message. She nodded her understanding and left the room.
“Within the hour?” questioned Gunta after the air mage had left the room. “You know something that you have not shared with Halman and me.”
“Many things,” grinned Marak. “Come with me and learn some of them.”
The Torak led his shadows out of the office and slipped out of the palace using the Emperor’s private entrance. Within minutes the trio entered the temple and made their way to the library. Halman and Gunta said nothing as Marak slipped the catch on the bookshelf and led them into the small area beyond.
“Just like Angragar,” Gunta nodded as Halman slid the bookshelf closed. “Let me go through first. Halman will come last.”
“It goes to the Chula temple,” warned the Torak. “We will not be entering their library.”
Gunta nodded and opened the door to the closet. He stepped in and closed the door. Marak waited several seconds before opening the door and stepping into the closet. He closed the door and reopened it, stepping out into the small area behind the bookshelves in the temple in Changragar. Seconds later Halman stepped out of the closet.
“Now through to Angragar?” asked Gunta.
Marak nodded and the trio repeated the procedure, coming out in the small area behind the bookshelves in Angragar.
“And on to StarCity,” instructed the Torak.
Gunta nodded once more and stepped through the door bearing the mark of the Star of Sakova. Within moments the three warriors were behind the bookshelves in StarCity. Gunta peered through the spy hole and observed the library. Lyra was standing in the center of the room ushering out the few people who had been using the library. Gunta waited for the Star of Sakova to close the doors to the library before releasing the catch that swiveled the bookshelves.
Gunta led the way into the library as Lyra stood staring at him. When Marak exited the small area, Lyra moved swiftly across the room and embraced him.
“I am glad to see you,” Lyra said softly as Marak hugged her. “How did you arrive so quickly? Were you already at Changragar?”
“There is a new door at Changragar, “ explained the Torak. “It leads to the temple in Khadoratung. Ophia sensed some urgency in your request. Have our air tunnels been compromised?”
“I do not know,” replied Lyra, “but I could not take the chance that they were compromised. We have something very important to discuss, and I do not want anyone to know about it before we discussed it.”
Chapter 6
Spy Holes
The Star of Sakova led the Torak and his shadows out of the library in StarCity. She led the way through the corridors of the Sakovan palace, sending Jostin to find StarWind and have her meet the group in her office. When everyone had entered the Star’s office, she closed the door and said nothing until StarWind arrived.
“StarWind,” Lyra began after the Sakovan spymaster ahd arrived, “I would like you to brief Emperor Marak on this situation. Leave nothing out.”
“Very well,” StarWind said. “Earlier today HawkShadow discovered a boy roaming around in the forest near the Wound of Kaltara. The Wound is a tremendous canyon that stretches for hundreds of leagues. It is impassable. The entire area around the Wound of Kaltara is desolate and uninhabited. HawkShadow captured the boy and discovered that he was close to death. He had abrasions covering his face, chest and legs. Several bones were broken. The boy incurred these wounds while climbing the Wall of Mermidion.”
“The huge cliffs along the coast?” interrupted Emperor Marak. “I thought they were unscalable?”
“For all intents they are,” replied StarWind. “The boy fell several times, but managed to stay
alive long enough to reach the top.”
“Kaltara was surely with this boy,” interjected Lyra. “His name is Kenda.”
“His father should have a talk with the lad,” frowned the Torak, “but why are you telling me about him?”
“His father is dead,” frowned StarWind, “as is the entire population of Duran.”
Marak closed his eyes and sank onto one of the chairs before Lyra’s desk. StarWind waited while the Emperor composed himself. She knew exactly how he felt.
“I am sorry,” Marak finally said. “I suspect that I know where this story is going, but please continue, StarWind.”
“Your assumptions are correct, Emperor Marak,” nodded StarWind. “The boy described a vicious attack on the city of Duran. Half a dozen large ships carried warriors and mages in from the sea. From the description that Kenda gave, it appears that the Motangans used a magical fog to hide their approach. When the fog lifted, it dissipated instantly. The attack commenced at the same time. The Motangans showed no mercy. Every individual was struck down; buildings were searched and burned. The second wave to arrive was a group of mages. Kenda believes that they were brought ashore to search for survivors. The invaders’ intent was to leave no witnesses.”
“How was it that Kenda managed to escape?” asked the Torak.
“Kenda and his friend had decided to climb the Wall of Mermidion the night before,” answered StarWind. “It is a rite that the young pursue in Duran. No one ever succeeds, but there are seldom any serious injuries in the attempts. Typically the boys climb as high as they dare and then return to the city to take their punishment. The boys left the city before dawn. They were several hours up the wall before the fog lifted.”
“And Kenda’s friend?” asked Marak.
“He died,” reported StarWind. “He was seen on the wall and fell victim to a mage’s fiery blast. Kenda kept to the dark crevices, but Motangan soldiers were ordered to search the wall. He had no choice but to succeed in getting to the top.”
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